Page 31 of A Mile of Ocean

Trent took his first bite. “Delicious as always. Now that we seem to be at war with an unknown assailant, it’s best to keep hot coffee at the ready and any kind of food that can be eaten on the run.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Dolly reminded him, pointing her slotted spatula directly at him. “I know the drill. I’m determined to get rid of all that food people dropped off. I’m slicing pieces of pie and cakes and wrapping them individually in cellophane for easy pickup. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will be placed on the rack by the back door, just like always.”

“You’re an angel, Dolly Hinton. Why hasn’t some man scooped you up and taken you away from all this?”

“Because I got better sense than to fall for a sweet talker with his eyes on my retirement money.”

Trent hooted with laughter. “Something else bothering you?”

“Other than two men dying, you mean? Truth be told, I’m dreading the funeral tomorrow. I’m running out of words of comfort for Duchess.”

“I know the feeling,” Trent said as he scooped up another biscuit. “Sorry to eat and run, but I gotta go check on the crew.”

“You got your hands full, I know. Just don’t drop in the saddle.”

“As long as you don’t drop at the stove, I won’t drop in the saddle. Don’t forget to feed Taco and Trilby.”

“Have I ever forgotten to feed anybody?” Dolly fired back, holding her spatula like a weapon. “Get out of here and get some sleep before you fall down.”

As he left Dolly, their challenges became clearer, but so did the support system around him. Despite the recent hardships, a sense of solidarity bolstered his resolve.

After shoring up the patrols again for Monday night with Woody and Cecil, Trent grabbed a quick nap at his house. He fell asleep on the couch, but his slumber was short-lived. He woke, startled by another person in the room. Instinctively, he reached for his .45 before his hand stilled.

“That gun won’t do you any good,” Scott said from his spot by the fireplace. “I’ve been dead for quite some time.”

“Scott Phillips,” Trent managed to eke out, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not real.”

“I’m real. I’m standing here big as life, aren’t I? You see me, right?”

“But you’re dead.”

“We’ve established that fact. You can’t sleep because you’re trying to figure out who wants to put an end to Rio Verde and the whole Callum family. Ask yourself why no one ever talks about Travis and Linley. Why doesn’t anyone ever use their names?”

It was eerie how close Scott came to reading his mind. “Okay.”

“Ask yourself why the person who was inside the house last night didn’t attack your grandmother.”

“I did wonder about that.”

“Anyone would. They didn’t even attack Dolly. Why is that? Why didn’t they complete their mission on Friday night? Why kill one when they could’ve made it two dead at Turtle Ridge?”

“Why did he spare her life, not once, but twice?” Trent asked, getting caught up in the game.

“Exactly. These are the questions that keep nagging at you. Maybe you haven’t voiced them to anyone, but you’ve thought about them.” Scott tapped the journal on the side table. “Finish reading Barrett’s diary. The answer is in there if you know where to look.”

“I’ve read almost all of it. It’s just Granddad’s ramblings about losing his son.”

“Then you’re skimming through the pages and not seeing the details,” Scott accused. “Finish reading the journal. Then go talk to your grandmother.”

Trent was about to ask another question when Scott disappeared into the wall. Unnerved, he picked up the journal and began to read, starting where he’d left off. He read more of the same until he got to a specific section outlining his grandfather’s mindset.

This part of Barrett’s diary made it clear that there had come a time after losing their son and daughter-in-law when things had been difficult between his grandparents. They had not gotten along for almost six months. As a result, his grandmother had gone home to live in Green River, Wyoming. Their separation lasted another six months before Barrett pleaded with her to return to California.

Their reconciliation had been slow and painful, but it had ultimately strengthened their bond. Trent couldn’t help but wonder if their past struggles held any clues to the current predicament. He was lost in these thoughts when he realized how much his family had already endured and overcome.

Trent knew he had to stay focused. He got up, stretched his legs, and decided to take a walk around the ranch. He needed to clear his mind and gather his thoughts. The fresh air and familiar surroundings might help him see things more clearly.

As he wandered, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a crucial piece of the puzzle was slipping through his fingers. He needed to talk to his grandmother. Maybe she had insights he hadn’t considered.

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