"You were right," he growled. "There's ten missing, by my count."
She let out a long breath. Ten head gone, that was near five hundred dollars by itself. It wasn't a loss that she liked, but she could handle it. It could have been worse, but there was time enough for things to keep getting worse.
"Okay," she answered, still looking out at the cattle, grazing the already-short grass inside the paddock. "What's your point?"
"Three of them mine, from last night."
She nodded her understanding. She couldn't muster a whole lot of sympathy, but she knew what it felt like to lose part of her stake. Especially when it was already small.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I'm fixin' to go into town and talk to the Sheriff."
"It won't do you much good," she answered.
There had been a time when she'd thought that was the right answer, too. She'd been a woman, alone out there save for her children and the steers, and some strange men had been around, stealing from her. She was right to be afraid.
But the Sheriff hadn't even come out to look into it. Hadn't sent a deputy around. After a month, she'd decided a better investment would be to buy herself a repeating rifle and keep it in the bedroom. If things went real wrong, she'd at least be able to defend herself. The money mattered, but she wasn't going to let things get out of focus.
"What do you suggest, then?"
She sighed and finally turned. She hoped he couldn't see where she'd been crying last night. She hadn't been able to avoid seeing it in her eyes when she finally woke up this morning. But then, she'd never been kind to herself in regard to her looks. Perhaps she was overestimating it.
Then again, maybe she wasn't.
She thought the answer that she knew he wouldn't want to hear. Get used to it, because there's not much to be done. Then she looked at the way he wore that gun on his hip, like it was made to be there, and she thought, not much, but there is something.
"I don't know," she answered instead.
"You know anything about who's behind it?"
"I don't."
"Then I guess I'll have to have the Sheriff look into it. You might think he won't look into it, but I can't go taking the law into my own hands, can I?"
She supposed he couldn't. But as she watched him walk back out the door, she didn't like the feeling she was getting that it didn't much matter whether or not he went. It would just be one more log on the fire, and if the Sheriff had been ignoring it all these years, it could only mean one thing.
The only reason he wasn't finding those men was because he wasn't looking for them.
She didn't like what that meant for Glen's chances, and she didn't like what it meant for his safety if he tried to push the matter.
Ten
Glen Riley mopped the sweat away from his forehead for the third time since he had left the ranch. It was only an hour's ride, and he could have taken it in less time if he wanted to push the horse.
Scouting had taught him to take his time, and gambling had only reinforced the habit, so he let the horse off easy. No rush, no hurry, and no reason to panic. The Sheriff's office would still be there if he took an extra fifteen minutes. After all, he didn't need to spook anyone.
Catherine hadn't struck him as a foolish woman, but she also seemed like the sort of no-nonsense person who sometimes jumps to conclusions in their hurry to get to the point. More than likely, she had just gotten the wrong impression from the Sheriff, and she'd left before he had a chance to follow up. After all, he reasoned, as he pushed the door to the Sheriff's Office open, who would elect a Sheriff who didn't do his job?
Catherine's hands were already hurting from the dishes. She closed her eyes and tried to force her hands to loosen up. She didn't need to be rubbing so hard, but the reality was that he was getting to her, and as much as Catherine didn't like it one damn bit, she couldn't deny it.
He'd find out soon enough what it was like, but what made it that much worse was knowing, herself, what she'd gone through since he had shown up. Barely a moment's rest. When she closed her eyes, all she could see were the chisel-cut lines of his face and the strong arms, the toned body that looked like he hadn't gone a single day without using every part of his body.
Grant would learn in his own time how little going to see Sheriff Barnes would do him. That much was sure. But he couldn't know what she was thinking about while he was doing it. She'd be humiliated, and what's more, what little reputation she had after Billy was done with her would be ruined.
She could deal with the looks of consternation, with the heavy atmosphere in town. She'd dealt with it since not long after they moved into town, and she would have to keep on dealing with it.
She set the dish aside, polished to a bright shine from rubbing it twice as long as it needed. She forced herself to keep going, gritted her teeth and focused on what she was doing. She needed a distraction, and by God she was going to have it—whether her thoughts wanted to play along or not.