Page 24 of Deadly Evidence
“I protect my land and family, Mr. Coleman. I’ve run off a lot of interlopers.”
“So your neighbor tells me.”
“Gil?” She couldn’t quell her derisive snort. “He fusses at me like an old hen, telling me to just shut my eyes and ignore anything that happens around here.”
She sensed Brady’s sudden interest in that, though he didn’t betray it with so much as a twitch.
“Tell me more about him,” he said, adjusting the cuff of his shirt.
“You don’t have all of those details in your report?” Lifting a brow at him, she tapped a stack of papers into a neat pile and then folded her hands on top of them. “Someone didn’t do their job?”
He sighed. “Look, Anna. We’re on the same side. I understand that you resent any intrusion into your privacy, but it’s policy for us to know all we can about a situation and the people we’re dealing with. Too many good men have died in this job, and we don’t take needless risks.”
Something flickered in his eyes—was that a flash of deep regret? Sorrow over a good friend who’d been killed in the line of duty?
But that’s what this man did for a living.
Anyone who loved him would deal with anxiety and uncertainty every single day, wondering if he would come home.
It was a sobering thought, because she could well imagine the fear of listening for the phone to ring when he was away.
Chastened, she bit her lower lip. “There was once some bad blood between him and my dad, but by the time Dad died, Gil was here most every Sunday for dinner.”
“And now?”
“I don’t see him that much, but he still keeps in touch. With Jonah ill, I think Gil feels obligated to offer...advice.”
“I’m guessing that you don’t need it.” Brady studied her for a moment, then cracked a smile. “Or want it, particularly.”
“He’s a very cautious man, but he wasn’t born here.” She pushed away from the desk and stood. “I’ve worked on this ranch since I could sit a horse. I’ve run it for thirteen years now, with Jonah’s help.”
“Do you trust Gil? His men?”
“Trust? Out here, we all depend on each other come time to move herds or brand or when disaster strikes. We work together, or this country will eat us alive.”
“Not exactly what I meant.”
For just a heartbeat, she imagined the joy of facing life with someone, no matter what happened.
The image was as appealing as it was improbable, for it was a luxury she would never enjoy.
“I believe in myself, Coleman.” She leveled a look at him, then glanced at the steel gun safe along the wall near the door.
Brady followed her gaze.
“I don’t trust anyone to make decisions that will affect the future of this ranch or the safety of the people who live here. If anything goes south with this operation of yours, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe.”
Bored, Mia wandered around the living room, studying family photographs on the fireplace, an old upright piano, andabsorbing the definite Southwestern flavor of the sprawling adobe house.
Everywhere she looked, there was native pottery decorated in rich peach-and-turquoise geometric designs. Navajo blankets or animal hides draped over the backs of furniture.
Old West cowboy prints hung on the walls, along with pictures of Lacey from birth until now. Anna on beautiful horses at shows, holding trophies and ribbons.
Some were of a much older man on horseback—probably Anna’s father or grandfather, though with the lowered brims of his hat, it was hard to tell.
Trying to find a way to start up a conversation with Vicente, who seemed to prepare most of the meals, she’d hung around the kitchen for a while before lunch.
He’d mostly grunted in response to her questions and acted as if hiscookingwas the most important thing in the world.
