"Not a bit," he said softly.
Catherine stood up and grabbed his arm, pulling him. He let her pull him up to his feet. "Dance with me," she repeated.
He made a face, but he didn't refuse. That was progress, she thought. Then she pulled him onto the floor. It took her a moment of awkward fumbling before she realized that he didn't know how. She wasn't sure what was more endearing—that he didn't know, or that he'd tried to hide it.
"Put your hand here," she said softly, moving his hand to her hip, where it wormed its way into the back of her mind. She took his other hand in hers and they started dancing. It was simple, it was good, and she liked it.
When she felt herself leaning into him, and when she felt her lips on his, she wasn't as surprised as she should have been. She certainly wasn't as surprised as when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"You two the ones looking for calves? Say they been stolen?"
Fifteen
Glen pressed his head back into his hands, knitted together behind his neck, and put on his best neutral expression. They'd moved off the floor, and he was thankful for that, at least. He'd already gone too far, given a little longer he might have lost his self-control completely.
He couldn't afford that. She wasn't his woman, and she wasn't going to be. He had to remind himself of that, because it was easy to let it slip in the moment, when he'd spent so much time with her the past week. When hers was the first face he saw after he woke up. And her looks didn't hurt matters, either.
"Now that you've found us, what can we do for you? Mister…"
"Huh? Beck. Avery Beck. I'm a rancher a few miles north of here, and I came down to sell my stock. Thought I'd have a look around. I've been here a week now, just to see what sort of stock goes through. It's looking like I come back in Spring."
"Did you have something to tell us about our rustling problem?"
"Oh, yeah." He nodded. The man was older than the both of them added together, and Glen had to wonder how it was that he managed to keep his ranch together at his age. No doubt with a bit of help from his staff. "Fella approached me after one of the auctions. Seen I hadn't bought nothin', and he asks if I'm interested in buying some calves. He says he's got to get rid of them, on account of his brother being hurt bad by one of the bulls. So he's got a great deal."
"Then what?"
"I figured I would go see what he had. If it were anything worth buying, or if I got 'em for a song, I'd take him up on his offer. But I ain't desperate. I've still got most of a herd goin' back home, you know?"
"You think the calves were stolen?"
"I counted… I couldn't say. I stopped after three different marks. 'Course, I didn't want to see how good the man was with the iron on his hip, neither, so I just said that I wasn't still in the market."
Catherine heard the story and wasn't sure how much she wanted to believe it. He was damn near telling them exactly what they wanted to hear, and that was what worried her.
The story
might have been genuine. That would mean that their trip had finally paid off, and she could finally relax. No more need to wander into another town, ask around again, pretending like this was the first place they were checking. No more waiting, knowing that they wouldn't find anything.
But the fact was, there wasn't a hell of a lot to the story, either. She couldn't avoid that. Glen's expression remained cut out of stone, even as he continued asking questions. Where did the man say he'd come from?
Said he'd come from East of town, ten miles out. Catherine knew that wasn't true, but she wondered if it wouldn't be worth looking into. Might be, there was something true in the story. Just not the whole thing. In her experience a half-truth was easier to tell than a whole lie. But then again, she hadn't broken any laws. Least, none of the ones that people were arrested for.
With Billy's help, she'd broken more than a few of the Bible's laws. That hadn't made it easier to hide herself, it had just made her hide herself better.
Glen nodded beside her. "Why you tellin' us this, Mister Avery Beck? Good Samaritan?"
The man's chest puffed up in pride, but he deflated a moment later. "I figure it might be worth a hot meal, maybe. But if you don't think so, then I'll head on home."
"You haven't mentioned the man's name yet," Glen countered. "Give us a name, and we'll sit and drink with you."
The man looked over at Catherine. She could feel his eyes on her, could feel him sizing her up. She hadn't said anything yet. She had to take some strength from that fact. Whatever he was thinking of her, she could try to take advantage of that, but he'd have to make the first move.
"Her too, eh?"
The man gave a big wink to Glen, whose eyes fluttered shut for a moment. She was starting to see it. He might be able to turn it off when he tried hard, but he had his tells, sure as anyone.
"She'll drink what she wants to drink, and she'll do what she wants to do. She's the boss, I'm just a hired hand."