Page 17 of Silent Deception
Dazed, she returned his hug, then spread her hands palms up as she met Nora’s amused gaze. “But the tack—I don’t have anything.”
Nora hiked a thumb toward the back of the pickup. “Figured as much. We tossed in a coupla old roping saddles, bridles, and some other equipment. It all came from Jim’s barn anyway, so it’s only right it comes back here. I’ve got no need for it. And I’m leaving you one of my rifles in case you run into some varmints—two-legged or four. You still know how to handle one. Right?”
Kristin nodded, feeling a little numb. “I’ll just pray I don’t need to use it.”
Within minutes, the horses were saddled and Cody, trembling with excitement, was aboard Rebel. Tipping his hat, Luis started into the pasture with Cody close behind.
Her heart full, Kristin watched them disappear over the hill, then turned to Nora and gave her a hug. “Thank you. It was sweet of you to do this.”
Flustered, Nora took an awkward step back. “I needed to do this for my friend Jim,” she said, her voice rough. “Nothing more than that.”
The unexpected hint at a softer side touched Kristin. Nora had always been the loner of the two aunts—a proud, independent woman who’d managed a ranch on her own since her early twenties. Kristin chose her words carefully. “Of course. I know he’d be thankful for everything you’ve done. I promise I’ll take good care of this place, and his horses, too.”
Nora turned away and busied herself with gathering the halters, lead ropes, and hoof picks that Luis and Cody had left by the hitching rail. “You be careful, hear? Young woman and a child out here, all alone...”
“I’m not some city slicker afraid of the dark, Aunt Nora. Remember, I spent part of my childhood here. I won’t miss the streetlights and traffic.”
“It’s not just that.” Nora inclined her head toward the barn, so Kristin fell in step with her as she headed inside.
Once the tack was stowed, Nora leaned against a stall door with one booted foot cocked back to rest on the rough timber. “I don’t know how much you know about your dad. Kids usually aren’t aware of everything that’s going on, and I expect your momma didn’t feel inclined to share a lot of memories, eh?”
“True,” Kristin admitted. “She didn’t criticize him in front of me, but I know they fought a lot more after the foreclosure of our ranch. And after the divorce, I didn’t get to see him much.” She forced a smile. “I missed him.”
“My brother was a good man. A hard worker, and I believe he was as honest as they come. Things never did go right for him, though. Drought and cattle prices foreclosed his ranch. He scraped and saved and rallied a lot of friends to join him in a partnership to buy thousands of acres of good Texas Hill Country, back before the prices hiked up so high. People...” Nora paused. “Well, when the consortium went under, there were a lot of people around here who were hurt bad. Some lost their life savings, some lost the family ranches they’d mortgaged to join in. A lot of them blamed your dad, saying he’d talked them into a foolish scheme.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, right?”
“No. It wasn’t the fault of the man who oversaw the day-to-day operation, either. Zeb Ritter worked hard as any man could, and your dad was out there, too, working twelve-to-eighteen-hour days for him. The economy and the drought were at fault, but it’s easier to take failure when you can pin it on someone else.”
Maybe that’s why her dad hadn’t had much time for a young daughter who’d lived so far away. “That’s notfair.”
“Yeah, well, Zeb committed suicide almost eighteen months ago, and now neither one is left to blame.” Nora’s lips thinned. “I wanted you to understand because there are still some locals with hard feelings about losing money when the consortium went under.”
“I’ve already run into a few of them.”
“One other thing.” Nora paced to the side door of the barn and stared out over the dry, rolling landscape with her thumbs hooked in the back pockets of her worn Levi’s. “Everyone in these parts knows how much miserable old Clint Gallagher wanted the K-Bar-C land. It still sticks in his craw that the Home Free committee nabbed it.”
Kristin joined her at the doorway. “But what can he do about it?”
“Nothing legal,” Nora scoffed. “I just want you to understand what’s going on around here, and I want you to be careful.”
“I hardly think the man can kick me off my land.”
Nora rested a calloused hand on Kristin’s arm. “After the consortium failed your dad worked for Clint until a few weeks before he died. They must’ve had a big argument because Nate either quit or was fired. I’ll go to my grave thinking there was something fishy about my brother’s death so soon after that.”
Startled, Kristin drew in a sharp breath. “But it was ruled an accident.”
“I have no proof. But your dad drove that road most every day of his life. He knew every curve, every bump. The weather was dry. The sun had just set, so the light was still good. The sheriff doesn’t agree with me, but I believe someone forced your dad’s truck off the road. And I think I know who it was.”
* * * *
ON TUESDAY MORNING, Kristin’s stomach tightened when she checked the time. Eight o’clock. By eight-thirty she felt as if tumbleweed had lodged in her throat.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the clinic phone rang. It was a wrong number, though in small-town fashion, the caller managed to stretch that inadvertent call into a good ten minutes about local gossip and the weather.
By a quarter of ten, the waiting room was still empty and Kristin breathed a sigh of relief...until a moment later when she heard heavy footsteps tromping up the steps. The front door of the clinic squealed open.
Ryan walked in, his face a grim mask. “Sorry we’re late.”
