She was glad of her brother’s support but regretted that he should be made to suffer. Even so, she didn’t intend to argue.
With a contemptuous glance at the store, she turned around in her seat to stare straight ahead over the horses’ heads, determined to forget the entire incident.
Yet she couldn’t dismiss her concerns as easily the following day when Harlan Fisk rode over to talk to Reed. Summer learned of the visit after Harlan had left, when she walked over to the big house to share supper with her brother and sister, preferring even Amelia’s traitorous company to eating alone. Amelia had refused to retract her accusation, and Summer refused to speak to her until she did. After a virtually silent meal, Summer followed Reed to his study, where he told her about Harlan’s call.
The previous night several hundred head of prime stock had gone missing from the Fisk ranch, and Comanche arrows had been found at the site.
Summer sat numbly, wanting to deny Reed’s solemn disclosure, knowing she would be grasping at straws. She might have accused Will Prewitt and even Bob Blackwood of lying to gain their own ends, fabricating stories about cattle rustling, but Harlan Fisk was as honest as a man could be. If he said his stock was gone, then it was gone. It seemed that cattle really were disappearing from neighboring ranches. And the evidence pointed to Comanche involvement.
“Maybe the Comanches really are behind it,” Reed observed quietly. “And maybe”—he took a slow breath—“Amelia didn’t lie about Lance.”
Summer lifted her head to stare at him in horror. “Surely you don’t believe Lance is involved?”
“Honestly?” Reed ran a hand distractedly through hair. “I don’t know what to believe. The evidence looks pretty damning.”
“What possible motive could he have for stealing from our neighbors?”
“Revenge for what happened to his livery, maybe?”
Summer shook her head, trying to keep calm, her tone reasonable. “Not only isn’t it logical, but it’s impossible. Think about it, Reed. Lance didn’t know his livery would be vandalized. If he invited his brother to raid as Amelia suggests, then he had to have done it before he left the Comanche camp. Why would he have arranged for them to steal from this area when he planned to settle here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t trust you to keep your word about your marriage. You left him behind, remember? Maybe he thought you owed him, that the people here owed him for all the hell they’d given him over the years. Maybe he’s getting back at them. Or maybe he only wanted to repay his brother for helping him find Amelia.”
“Lance paid his brother already, in horses and money.”
“Maybe that wasn’t enough.”
“No.” She shook her head furiously. “It’s impossible.”
“It isn’t impossible, Summer.” Reed gazed at her with sympathy, but also with unwavering determination. “Nobody’s been hurt so far. That isn’t like the Comanche. Maybe Lance told his kin to lay low, to leave the ranchers alone and only take their stock.”
“And maybe it’s the whites who are stealing and blaming it on Lance!” Her eyes grew pleading. “Think about it, Reed. Will Prewitt hates Indians. He wo
uld like nothing more than to drive Lance out of the county, like Papa did five years ago. Think about it—”
“Perhaps you’re the one who should do the thinking, Summer. I realize he’s your husband…Of course you feel a certain obligation toward him for coming to Amelia’s rescue. But what do you really know about him? How do you know he can be trusted?”
“I just know. And you would, too, if you gave him a chance. Lance hasn’t been back here all that long, not enough time for you to come to know him well. Or anyone else for that matter.” She laughed bitterly. “And now Amelia has ruined any chance he had of earning their trust.”
“Has she?”
“Yes! It’s her fault—”
“Loyalty is admirable, Summer, but stubborn blindness is stupid.”
“What are you saying?”
“Where has Lance been the past few days? What has he been up to?”
Summer remained silent, unable to answer.
“He’s been gone every night since the barbecue, and during the day, too. He could be riding with his Comanche kin.”
“No.”
“I think you at least have to consider the possibility.”
“If…” She swallowed with difficulty. “If he is…involved, then there have to be extenuating circumstances.”