Page 37 of Texas Splendor
“Which is the reason I’ll keep looking, but this gives me a different angle: an irate father, a young boy McQueen might have hurt who finally grew to manhood … People will be less likely to share that sort of information, but I’ll keep that in mind as I’m digging.”
“I’m thinking of heading home. I can’t see that I’m doing any good here. Boyd stole five years of my life. I don’t want him taking any more.”
Wylan gathered up his scattered cards and began to play a game of solitaire. “I’m going to stay here a few more days, then head back to Kansas, see if this new information brings anything to the surface.”
The McQueens had moved to Texas from Kansas several years back. If Dee hadn’t brought such joy to Dallas’s life, Austin would have wished they’d never left Kansas.
“Mr. Leigh?”
Austin glanced up at the hesitant voice. Recognition dawned and he slowly came to his feet. “Dewayne, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. I was out visiting Loree today. She looks a might poorly. I have a feeling you’re the cause, but she said it ain’t my place to judge.”
Guilt cut through him like a rusty knife. He should have honored her request that he never return. “That was mighty generous of her.”
“She’s a generous sort—to a fault, if you want to know the truth. I don’t like to see her hurt.”
“I have no intention of hurting her.” It was that intention that had kept him away from her when everything inside him wanted to see her again.
“Well, see that you don’t ‘cuz you’d have to answer to me if you did.”
Dewayne spun on his heel. Austin dropped into his chair and met Wylan’s speculative gaze.
“What was all that about?”
“Personal,” Austin said just before he downed his whiskey, relishing the burning in his gut. Dewayne obviously had a soft spot for Loree. Hell, who wouldn’t?
“Nothing that might help me find Boyd’s killer?”
“No, but what would it cost me to have you search for another killer?”
“Not a cent. Your brother is paying me enough to find ten killers.”
“What information would you need?”
“Name helps. Description. Anything at all. What do you know about him?”
“Not much. He killed a family—”
“Mr. Leigh?”
Austin jerked his head around. Dewayne held out an envelope. “I forgot that Loree asked me to drop this off at the Driskill for you, but reckon I can just give it to you here.”
Austin took the envelope, studying the scrawl on the paper that looked as though it had been written with a trembling hand. “ ‘Preciate it.”
Dewayne gave him a slow nod before sauntering away.
“That from your Loree?”
“She’s notmyLoree.” Austin tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter she’d written. The words had joy, fear, and dread weaving through him. He surged to his feet, knocking the chair over.
“What is it?”
“I was wrong. She is my Loree. Do whatever it takes to find Boyd’s killer. I’m headin’ back to Dallas’s ranch.”
His Loree. Austin stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her. She was too trusting, leaving the front door and the door to her bedroom open. And the dog wasn’t a damn bit of good. It had neither heard nor smelled his approach, but just continued to gnaw on one of Loree’s black shoes near the bed, growling at it as though it were a threat when the real threat was leaning against her doorjamb.
In her daisy colored dress, she sat on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her, her toes peering out from under her backside. Her thick braid was draped over her shoulder. She had opened a wooden chest and was slowly removing tiny pieces of clothing, spreading them over her lap, and pressing them flat with her fingers, as though each garment was precious—as precious as the child growing within her.
