Читать книгу Cowboy For Keeps - Brenda Mott - Страница 11

“ARE YOU SURE you’ll be okay here, Dad?” Now that they were at Wild Horse Ranch, his father looked frail, if happy, sitting in the truck, his portable oxygen tank resting on the floorboards.

“Of course I will, son.” Matthew relaxed in the luxurious, upholstered seat of the Chevy pickup, leaning back against the headrest. “Don’t start sounding like your mother.” He smiled.

“I shouldn’t be long,” Cade said, strapping on his shoulder holster. The semiautomatic .45 pistol inside was loaded with nine rounds, and he had an extra clip in his pocket. “The keys are in the ignition, if you decide to turn on the air.” They’d parked in the shade of a canyon, and the morning was cool. “Here’s my cell phone if you need it. The reception up here can be sketchy, but—”

“Damn it, go on.” Matt waved him away. “I know how to work a cell phone.”

“All right.” Cade climbed out of the truck.

The sound of flowing water grew louder as he hiked closer to the Roaring Fork. There was a spot downstream a short way where the river pooled into a watering hole. According to Sam, the mustangs frequented the place, along with deer and elk. Picking his way through the sagebrush and scrub oak, Cade soon found it.

Sure enough, hoofprints lined the water’s edge. Fresh manure indicated the mustangs had watered here as recently as this morning, which surprised him, considering the scare the poachers had given the herd the night before. Apparently, the horses’ habits were deeply ingrained, and that could prove to be both good and bad. It would allow him to keep watch over them, but give the poachers equal opportunity to come back and find the mustangs easily.

Cade took his digital camera out of his denim jacket. It was a nice one, and he shot both stills and video footage of the watering hole. Then he moved through the brush, winding his way down the canyon toward the spot where he and Reno had run across the poachers. He found an area where ATV tracks crisscrossed through the mud, and saw shattered headlight glass on the ground in a couple of places.

He recalled the shots Reno had exchanged with the poachers. He hadn’t thought to berate her last night, but she was going to get herself hurt if she wasn’t careful. After taking pictures of the broken glass, Cade gingerly picked it all up and wrapped it inside his bandanna-style handkerchief. It wouldn’t do to leave the glass for the mustangs—or any other animal—to step on. He’d show the digital pictures and the glass to Sam.

So intent was he on what he was doing, it took Cade a moment to notice the hoofbeats coming his way. Mustangs? His heart jumped, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a horseshoe striking against rock. A moment later, Reno rode into view on the same blue roan he’d seen last night—when she’d stared at him as though she’d seen a ghost. Cade could hardly blame her. He supposed in some ways that’s exactly what he was to her. Had his actions all those years ago haunted her the way they’d haunted him?

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Until he saw Sheriff Pritchard riding behind her on a big sorrel horse. Cade’s smile turned into a scowl.

“Morning, Cade,” Reno said, not meeting his eyes.

“Look what the cat dragged back to town,” Austin said. “It’s been a while, Lantana.”

“That it has.” Cade narrowed his eyes. “There wasn’t any need for you to ride all the way out here. Sam’s got this investigation under control.”

“Well, Sam’s not here, and seeing as how I’m the sheriff of this county, I’d say it’s my sworn duty to uphold the law under all circumstances, including this one.” Austin’s pale blue eyes stared back at him.

As cocky as Cade remembered.

“Would you two knock it off,” Reno said. “Find anything interesting, Cade?”

“Tire tracks from the ATVs. Looks like there were three or four of them.”

“I know I shot out the headlights on two,” Reno stated.

Cade started to tell her why that hadn’t been a good idea, then decided not to get into it in front of the sheriff.

“I did not just hear that,” Austin said. “Reno, you can’t be out here shooting at people, even if they are trespassing.”

“They shot at me first. Besides,” Reno said, “I didn’t shoot at people. I shot their lights. They need to stay off my property. Don’t they know about Colorado’s Make My Day law? Some property owners would shoot a trespasser pretty quick in these parts.”

Austin looked as if he was going to argue the point further, but Cade cut him off. “I was just getting ready to walk upriver a ways.”

“What for?” Austin asked, resting one arm against his saddle horn, as the sorrel gelding cocked a hind leg and relaxed beneath him.

“To check out a hunch.” Cade started walking again, eyes carefully scanning the ground. He found the spot where the canyon narrowed, where the poachers had attempted to drive the mustangs into the trap they’d set for them. The shod hoofprints of his own horse and Reno’s were mixed with the ATV tracks. The muddy ground was churned up from all the activity of the night before, clumps of sagebrush trampled.

“Looks to me like they set up a portable fence here to corral the herd,” Austin said, from the back of his horse.

No shit, Sherlock.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Reno asked.

Cade hated to share his theory with Austin Pritchard, but then he supposed two heads—three in this case—might be better than one. “Trailer tracks. I have a feeling those ol’ boys were planning to haul as many horses out of here last night as they could. Before we came along and interrupted their fun.”

Reno’s eyes widened. “I’d assumed they were going to drive them into the canyon and fence them off, then come back later.”

“Could be,” Cade said. “But I don’t think so. I talked to Sam before I drove out here. The poachers have been hard to catch, and they know the BLM is onto them. I’d bet they’d want to get in and out as quickly as possible.”

“Where in the world would somebody park a sizable rig out here?” Austin pondered. “They’d have to leave it up where you parked, and that would make it mighty hard to turn around. That road’s not wide.”

Cade had already thought of that. “I don’t think that’s where they left their rigs.”

“Where, then?” Reno asked. She’d dismounted and now walked alongside Cade, leading the blue roan.

Her proximity made Cade feel too warm in the light jacket he wore. She smelled like wildflowers, and he noticed that beneath her black cowboy hat, her black braid hung nearly to her waist. She’d always worn her hair long, and the silk of it used to nearly drive him crazy whenever she let her hair fall free. He pushed away the image of an eighteen-year-old Reno.

“According to my topo map,” Cade said, “there’s a place upriver shaped like a bowl in the rocks, and a road leads from there to the one up above. They could’ve parked a rig in that bowl and had plenty of room to turn around.”

“I know the spot,” Reno said. “But the track leading out is pretty hairy. Still, it’s worth a look.”

“Glad you approve.” Cade hadn’t intended to say that so sarcastically. He supposed he was annoyed because of Austin breathing down his neck, and Reno stirring up old feelings.

She frowned. “Hey, I’m just here to be an extra pair of eyes,” she said.

Cade said nothing, but thought he saw Austin smirk.

Farther along, the ground became less trampled, but the ATV tracks continued on. Cade followed them until he found exactly what he’d been looking for. The small meadow, surrounded by canyon walls, lay at the end of a road resembling a wagon trail more than anything else.

Satisfied, Cade studied the flattened brush and tall grass. A rig had been here, all right, and not just one. From the appearance of the tire tracks, two heavy-duty trucks pulling what were likely roomy, fifth-wheel trailers had parked here last night. Cade took more pictures and video, working his way up to the road, careful not to disturb any evidence.

“I can get my deputies out here to cast and mold those tire tracks,” Austin said, when they came to an area where the road was still damp but drying fast. The tracks here were quite clear.

Begrudgingly, Cade nodded. “Be a good idea,” he said. “Can you get a copy for Sam?”

Austin lifted a shoulder. “I suppose, though I don’t see why that’s necessary. I told you, this is my county.”

“And this is BLM business,” Cade contended.

“Okay, you two boys go ahead and kick sand in each other’s faces,” Reno said, swinging back onto her gelding. “I’m going to ride farther up this road and see what’s what.”

With a final dark look Pritchard’s way, Cade kept walking, wishing now he had brought his horse.

“Care to swing up behind?” Austin halted the sorrel alongside him, and offered a hand. Cade read the mockery in the man’s eyes.

“Thanks, I can walk.”

“Suit yourself.” Austin rode after Reno, and Cade plodded after them, feeling both irritated and foolish. He’d thought about hauling Jet up here, since his trailer was a two-horse, trickier to back up than a longer trailer, but requiring less space to maneuver. But he’d decided it would be easier to examine the tracks and other possible clues left behind by the poachers if he were on foot, even if it did take a little longer to cover ground. Leave it to Austin to one-up him.

Cade peeled off his jacket and continued his mission. From the looks of things, there had to indeed have been three or four poachers, if the telltale ATV tracks were any indication. By the time he reached the upper road, Cade had no doubt the poachers had used this escape route. He hadn’t noticed their tracks as he and his dad drove in, because the poachers had taken the left-hand fork, not toward town, but away. They’d followed back roads out of the area, and would’ve taken the horses who knew where if he and Reno hadn’t stopped them.

Pausing to catch his breath, Cade noted that only one set of shod hoofprints led in that direction now. The other went right toward where he’d left his truck parked. Frowning, he took the right fork, as well, and within a couple of minutes came in sight of it, along with Reno and her horse. She’d dismounted, and was chatting with Matt through the open window of the Chevy.

Pritchard must’ve continued tracking the poachers. Let him waste his time. He’d end up riding into the next county if he planned to follow those tire tracks.

As Cade drew closer to the truck, the sound of Reno’s soft laughter filled the air. Ignoring a stirring of old feelings, he tossed his jacket inside the cab, then leaned over the pickup bed and opened a small cooler he’d placed there. “Want a bottle of water?” he asked Reno. “Dad?”

“No, thanks,” Reno said.

“I’m good,” Matthew answered. Cade noticed some color in his dad’s cheeks. The outing had been good for him. He was obviously enjoying Reno’s company.

Cade walked around to the passenger side, admiring the blue roan and wondering if he was a mustang. He studied the gelding’s legs and his large, black hooves. Black hooves generally chipped less easily than the light ones on horses with white stockings. The gelding shifted, and Cade frowned, eyeing the rear hoof on the off side.

“Your horse threw a shoe,” he said, handing his water to Reno.

“What?” She turned to look for herself. “Crap, I just had those shoes put on a week ago.”

“It happens,” Matthew said.

“You can’t ride him that way,” Cade pointed out. A horse could wear two shoes, as long as they were both on the front or on the rear. One odd shoe would put the animal off balance, at risk of going lame.

“I know that,” Reno said, not hiding her irritation.

“I’d pull the other hind shoe for you,” he offered, “but my farrier tools are in my trailer.”

Reno swore under her breath, just as Austin rode up on his sorrel. “Morning, Matt,” he called. “You doing all right?”

“I’d be better if I was sitting in the saddle instead of in this fancy truck,” Matthew said.

“What’s up?” Austin asked Reno.

“Plenty Coups threw a shoe.”

The sheriff chewed his bottom lip. “Not good. You want to swing up behind me? We can pony him back to the ranch.”

“I’ll drive her home,” Cade said. “It’ll be easier for you to pony the gelding without riding double.”

One time, at the fairgrounds when Reno was seventeen, he’d given her a ride on a frisky buckskin mare he’d recently bought. Reno had snugged up behind him on the back of his saddle, her arms tight around his waist. It was the first time he’d begun to think of her as anything other than the little sister she wanted him to see her as. He’d made the mare prance, so Reno would hang on tighter.

No way did he want Pritchard taking her home.

“DO YOU MIND?” Reno asked Austin, holding Plenty Coups’s reins out to the sheriff.

She didn’t miss the dark look he gave Cade before Austin smiled at her. “Not at all.” He took hold of the split reins. “Guess I’ll meet y’all back at the ranch. Good seeing you, Matt.”

“Same here.” The old rancher nodded, then slid over to the middle of the Chevy’s fold-down bench seat to make room.

She climbed in, saddened by the sight of his oxygen tank.

“Hope that blasted thing’s not in your way,” Matt apologized. “Just scoot it over.”

“It’s fine,” Reno said, arranging her long legs around the tank.

“So, what’d you two find?” Matt asked as Cade started the engine and drove farther down the road, looking for a spot wide enough to turn around.

Cade told him about the trailer tracks. “Also, I heard around town that an older-model, black-and-silver truck was seen in the area recently, hauling a six-horse trailer. Someone saw it near De Beque, too.”

“We’ve got to stop these guys,” Reno declared, her anger rising. “I don’t understand how people can stoop so low.”

“Makes two of us,” Cade said.

“Lots of bad folks out there.” Matt shook his head. “I hate to see this happening to the mustangs.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to them if I can help it,” Reno stated.

Back at the ranch house, Reno got out of the truck, then hesitated, leaning on the open door. “You sure you don’t want something cold to drink, Matt?” He looked so pitiful, with the oxygen tubes, his worn-out body. But his eyes were sparkling, and Reno had a feeling he hadn’t been anywhere in a while. She knew she hadn’t seen him in town in ages. “I’ve got sun tea. Better than bottled water any day.” She grinned.

“You’ve got that right. What fool ever started paying for something you can get right out of your faucet?” He glared at Cade as though the bottled water movement were his fault. “My daddy’s probably up there having a laugh at that one.” He lifted his chin to nod the brim of his dark brown Stetson skyward.

“I’m sure he is.” Reno had heard tales of the tough rancher who’d raised Matt to be a top-rate hand. “So, what do you say, cowboy? We can sit on the porch and enjoy the morning before it gets any hotter.”

“We really ought to get back, Dad,” Cade said. “Mom will worry.”

But Matt was already halfway out of the truck. “Let her.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that.” Reno reached for the oxygen tank.

“I’ve got it.” Matt waved her away. He wheezed as he stepped down from the Chevy, setting the wheel-mounted tank on the ground and walking with Reno toward the house.

She avoided Cade’s eyes, leading the way up the steps, knowing Matthew would take offense if she stood back to let him go first. “Make yourselves at home,” she said, indicating the rocker and two ladder-back chairs, one on either side of the front door. “I’ll be right with you.”

Inside the kitchen, Reno lifted the jar of tea from the refrigerator and poured some into three plastic tumblers she filled with ice. She cut lemon slices and stuck one on the edge of each glass, wondering if Matt took sugar. She didn’t, and she remembered that Cade didn’t, either. Just in case, she scooped up Wynonna’s sugar bowl and set it on a tray.

Balancing her load, Reno went out to the porch. As she nudged the screen door open with one shoulder, Cade caught it and held it for her. Suddenly she felt shaky. What was with her? He was the same Cade she’d always known.

“Here you go, Matt.” Reno set the tray on a small round table between the rocker he’d settled into and one of the chairs. She dropped down next to him, leaving Cade to sit on the other side of the door. Instead, he pulled the chair closer, facing out toward the surrounding mountains.

“That’s quite a view,” Matt commented.

They made small talk until Austin rode up, leading Plenty Coups. Reno set down her empty glass and went to meet him. “Thanks, Austin,” she said, taking the blue roan’s reins. “I sure appreciate your help with my horse.”

“No problem.” He looked toward the porch. “Y’all having a tea party?” he drawled.

Reno grunted. “I guess we are. Want a glass? It’s nice and cold.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Austin swung down from the sorrel, replaced the bridle with a nylon halter and lead rope, and tethered him to the horse trailer parked in the driveway.

“Help yourself,” Reno said. “You know where the fridge is.”

“Bring me a refill, Austin, will you?” Cade asked, with a thin smile. “Since you seem to be the knight in shining armor today.”

The sheriff chuckled, but the sound seemed forced, and Reno turned her back on the pair to lead her horse to the barn. They were acting like a couple of high school boys, trying to impress a girl. But then, she often wondered if the male gender ever grew up.

After caring for Plenty Coups and turning him out into a paddock behind the barn, Reno returned to find the three men in a deep discussion about the poachers.

“I’ve got everyone on the force keeping their eyes peeled for anything even remotely suspicious,” Austin was saying as Reno sat in the chair Cade vacated for her. “And I’ll bet the poachers know it. I’d say they aren’t likely to strike again for a while. You probably scared them off last night.”

“Maybe,” Cade said. “But it won’t hurt to keep a sharp eye out.”

“That’s what they’ll be expecting,” Austin said. “For us to be watching. Of course, it’s always good to be cautious.” He drained his glass. “Sorry to drink and run, Reno,” he said, setting the tumbler on the table. The ice cubes rattled, and as an afterthought, the sheriff fished one out and popped it into his mouth to chew on. “Tell Sam to keep me posted,” he mumbled around the ice cube.

“Yeah, sure.” But Cade wore a stubborn expression.

Wynonna pulled into the yard in her beat-up GMC pickup as Austin was loading the sorrel into his trailer. They exchanged greetings before the older woman climbed the porch steps, carrying a couple of shopping bags.

“Need help with that?” Cade asked, rising.

“Heavens no, it’s just a few groceries. How are you, Matt?”

“Been better,” the cowboy said.

“Well, let’s pray you’re on the mend,” Wynonna declared, the false hope sliding off her tongue as slick as wax on a snowboard.

As she passed Reno, she raised a curious eyebrow that said, We’ll talk about this later. Reno knew Wy would have fun teasing her about drawing the attention of two good-looking, single cowboys. Having tea on her porch at that.

I was thinking of Matt, Reno would argue.

Uh-huh.

Or maybe a cowboy with blue-green eyes. One she seemed to be harboring a new kind of feeling for, in spite of their muddy past.