Page 20 of A Dangerous Heart
Eli played with his last biscuit, passing it from one hand to the other. His head swiveled to look at Isaac again.
“You gonna marry Clare?”
Enough.
“No!” he growled. “Get outta here.”
At that moment, David banged out the door, jumped off the side of the stoop, and jogged to the barn. Eli sent Isaac one last wary glance, shot up, and ran to catch up to David. They met Drew riding up from the back of the barn. Drew dismounted, stalked toward Isaac while David led his horse into the barn, yammering with Eli.
“What’s wrong with the dining room table?” Drew asked from a few yards away.
“Nothing,” Isaac said as he set his plate on the step beside him.
Drew sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. There was something in his eyes. Concern yes, but more. Fear?
“I went scouting up on the ridge. Wanted to see for myself. Spied a plow hidden behind that outcrop of boulders near the bridge.” Drew’s lips tightened into a resigned frown. “More dirt’s been moved near the bridge. Looks like that no-good conniving varmint really is aiming to divert our water supply.”
“He should be behind bars,” Isaac muttered, gazing down at his calloused hands.
After five years with the Marshals, dedicated to tracking the most notorious criminals, he found himself unable to protect his own family from one unscrupulous cattleman. He and the town marshal, Danna O’Grady, had spent hours trying to piece together evidence, to no avail. They couldn’t prove that Quade had been behind the poisoned well or the bandit that had almost killed Rebekah.
“Quade’s wily and knows how to keep his hands clean,” Drew said.
Something was bugging Isaac. Images of dirt piles and shovels near the river surfaced in his mind, accompanied byHyer’s ominous words.Enough dynamite to blow half the train to smithereens.Or half the ridge. Breakfast turned to stone in his gut.
“He’s not hiding what he’s doing this time,” Isaac said, his voice quiet, somber. “He doesn’t seem to care that we know he’s up to something on that ridge.”
Drew’s expression turned bleak, and Isaac saw the weight of worry in the slump of his brother’s shoulders and the lines etched around his eyes and mouth. If Quade succeeded in taking their water, it meant their burgeoning herd would die off, crops would wither, and their entire way of life would dry up.
“I wondered why he rode John Braswell so hard to sell out. He wanted that plot of land to divert the water,” Drew said.
“Braswell didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t prove up his land in time after his barn burned.” Another crime they couldn’t pin on Quade.
“He’s not getting an inch of McGraw land. I promised Pa that I would protect the family legacy, but I don’t know what to do anymore.” Drew didn’t usually make a habit of sharing his worries. Kaitlyn had softened him.
“What will you do,” Isaac asked, “if it comes to a fight?”
“I’m praying it doesn’t come to that. Nick wants to talk to an attorney and see whether rerouting the river and cutting off our water supply can be stopped with a lawsuit. I’d planned to ride into town today, but Kaitlyn was sick all through the night. I’d like to stick close to her and home.”
Isaac stood, walked to the paddock fence, and leaned his elbows on the top rail. Drew joined him. Voices floated through the open kitchen window. Isaac was itchy. Couldn’t sit still.
Drew pushed back off the rail. Let out another long sigh, this one resigned.
“I’ll go,” Isaac said. “I’ll hunt down Frank Mecum. If he doesn’t know, I’ll push him to find out, quickly. Marshal O’Grady or Chas O’Grady might know something about water rights.”
Drew nodded. “Fine. What about Clare?”
“What about her?” Isaac snapped.
“She’s been a big help to Kaitlyn, especially since Rebekah can’t be here,” Drew said slowly.
“She can’t stay. Not when Quade can use her as a threat to us.”
Drew chewed on that for a minute. “All right. You can take her to town, put her on the train.”
“I don’t want to stay in town. I like the ranch,” Ben whined.
Clare rested an elbow on the white cotton tablecloth, her head bowed over a steaming cup of coffee, wishing they were still at the ranch too. She forced herself to take a sip of the strong coffee and scorched her tongue. In her hurry to set the cup down, some of the brown liquid spilled onto the tablecloth. She quickly blotted it with her napkin. Now both the napkin and the tablecloth were stained.
