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Brand ate heartily, even though he found it hard to swallow past the tension in his throat. He slipped some to Dawg. He’d no sooner scraped his plate clean before Cyrus yanked it away and handed it off.
“Now, little brother, it’s time to tell us what you know.”
Brand shrugged and gave him a defiant look. “I know where the horses are penned. Where the animal doctoring supplies are kept. And I know the cook who feeds the cowboys makes fine cinnamon rolls. That’s about it.”
Cyrus yanked on Brand’s shirtfront. He would have jerked him to his feet, but Brand outweighed him.
“You always were a selfish son of a gun. Now you think ya can keep all the money to yerself.” He released Brand with a shove. “Seems yer gonna take some persuading.” He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Dawg, who didn’t move, but gave Cyrus a look of hatred.
“How be I shoot this cur?”
Brand’s insides curled, but he simply shrugged. “He’s about dead, anyway.”
Pa shook his head. “Leave the poor animal alone.”
Cyrus snorted and stalked off ten paces. He slowly turned to face Brand, with such a malicious grin that Brand struggled to hide a shudder. Sorrow clawed at his gut. Cyrus had once been a decent big brother. Now look what he’d become.
“Dog don’t count. Saddle me a horse.” He signaled to one of the men, who did as he instructed. Then Cyrus rode away.
Brand stared after him, his heart beating wild as the hooves of a mustang.
What was Cyrus up to?
Whatever it was, Brand knew it was no good.
* * *
Sybil thought longingly of her favorite spot—the place where Brand had camped. But Eddie had warned her not to stray too far. She could have found a bit of solitude in the trees next to the river where she and Brand had spent a few minutes. But her memories prevented her from going there, so she settled for a place on the hill, surrounded by trees, within a few yards of the house.
Brand! Why did she keep thinking of him? He was not what she thought.
He’d left without even saying goodbye. Or explaining his reasons. But after Constable Allen’s visit that afternoon she understood why. The Mountie had brought a wanted poster for the Duggan gang.
“Morton Duggan and his son Cyrus,” the Mountie said. “They gather up ne’er-do-wells, but they’re the head of the gang. Notice anything about them?”
Eddie studied the drawings of the men and groaned. “The family likeness is unmistakable.” He handed the poster to Linette. Mercy and Sybil peered over her shoulders. The drawings could have been older versions of Brand.
Sybil’s insides turned to ice. A wanted man. Why hadn’t she listened to the warning voices in her head? Had the voices not said repeatedly that he was a dangerous man? A man who enjoyed risks?
Linette returned the poster to the Mountie. “He seemed like a decent man. Are you sure he’s part of the gang?”
Constable Allen considered the poster with a serious look on his face. “From the information I have, he isn’t directly involved in the robberies, but it seems he is on the scene first. It could be he garners information that he passes on to his father and brother.” The officer turned to Eddie. “I hope you didn’t share any information regarding your money or your valuables with him.”
Eddie shook his head. “Of course not. Fact is, I didn’t get more than a few words out of him, and he certainly didn’t hang around socializing with the others. Except—” His gaze hit Sybil like a blow. “You spent a fair amount of time with him. Did he ask any question that in hindsight might indicate he sought information of this sort?”
Sybil’s throat refused to work. She shook her head. If they only knew it was she who’d asked the questions. Questions to which she received few answers. Now she understood why. “He said very little and asked no questions,” she finally managed to say.
She’d fled the place as soon as she could, cutting short Mercy’s excited rant about having a wanted man in their presence and not even knowing it.
Sybil sat on the ground now, her back pressed to a tree. The larches were bright yellow, like bits of captured sunlight. But the sight gave her no joy. Brand was part of the Duggan gang.
