Page 18 of Sweet Deal
Rachel tugged the papers back and read through more carefully. “For what?”
On a heavy sigh, Carson shook his head slowly. “Yes, and I don’t know.”
“Crap.” Preston raked his fingers through his hair. “Do you think he’s in on it?”
“Don’t know.” Carson shrugged.
“I can’t believe it.” Rachel stared down at the page. “Have you ever been charged with a crime? Yes. Have you served time in prison? Yes. Are you currently on parole? No.” She looked up. “So he served his time?”
“Or escaped,” Carson spat out.
“You don’t honestly believe that?” Rachel was surprised by her own harsh tone.
Carson shook his head. “No. I don’t. He wouldn’t be so calm around the sheriff if he were.”
“But that doesn’t mean he isn’t in on it with Ray, or that he’s not the one who recently removed the hay baler we found from the shed.” Preston retrieved the handwritten application from his sister.
Rachel collapsed on a nearby pile of saddle blankets on top of who knew what. “So what do we do?”
“Fire him,” Preston snapped.
“He’s been good to Mom, worked hard.” Rachel scrubbed her face. “We owe him to at least ask him what’s going on.”
Carson nodded. “I’ve run the gamut on fury and confusion, between firing him or beating the truth out of him.”
“Conclusion?” Preston leaned against the doorway, the papers still tight in his fist.
“I don’t know.” Carson reached for the pages. “I see how hard he’s worked, how much he clearly worries about Mom, how respectful he is to all the women on this ranch. It isn’t adding up.”
“So what?” Preston asked. “Tell Mom, see what she thinks?”
Rachel shook her head. “She’ll take it hard. Two betrayals, so soon after losing Dad.” She didn’t have another suggestion, but that one just felt… wrong.
The sound of a vehicle door slamming drew all their attention. Pushing to her feet, Rachel led the way to the open barn doors. The three siblings stood single file as if lining up for a photograph, shortest to the tallest. Though Preston and Carson were nearly the same height, she clearly stood in front to see.
Their mother hopped out of the pickup truck. Her stride steady and strong, a relief after that horrible fall in the barbed wire.
From their left, Clint hopped over the paddock fencing and hurried to where Alice Sweet stood behind the truck, tailgate open, reaching for the large bags of feed. “Hey, let me get that.”
“I can do it.”
The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am, you can, but that doesn’t mean you should.”
A smile curled their mother’s lips upward as she nodded.
Clint tipped his hat respectfully, and the two exchanged words none of the siblings could hear. There was no telling what was discussed, but their mom nodded again and took a step back as Clint hefted the bag on his shoulder and walked off toward the feed shed.
“Okay.” Rachel spun around, staring up at her two brothers. “We do. Not. Tell Mom.”
“Agreed,” the two men chorused.
“I’ll check with the sheriff, see what he knows,” Carson added.
“No.” Rachel raised her hand. “If the sheriff doesn’t know, I don’t want to cause Clint trouble.”
Preston bobbed his head. “The Farradays. I could call Declan. Dad and Declan’s dad were close. He might be able to shed some light on the situation.”
All three of them glanced over to where Clint was reaching for another bag.
