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The Sheriff doesn’t push.
Wiley gets angrier by degrees.
“Anyway, I get out of the truck and come running. The man—oh God, Taya, it was the same one. The scar on his cheek.” She touches her right cheek. “I ask him what he’s doing, and he holds up his hat like we’re in a movie and says some nonsense like howdy or what have you.”
Wiley’s jaw clenches.
“He then turns to Dakota and winks at her.” Clara shakes her head, eyes closed. “Tell your mama what I told you. And my kid—she has a spine, she does—she tells him there isn’t enough money in the world for us to sell our ranch.”
She picks up her coffee and drinks like she needs to loosen her throat.
“I tell him to get out. Just leave. He says I should listen to him. I ask his name and who sent him. He says Sid Trafton and I should know who sent him.” She spits the name out. “And that’s when Eli comes running out to the yard. He’s curious, so he goes straight to the truck—it’s red—and before I can get to him, Trafton walks up to Eli and asks him about his horse. Eli always carries one. You know that, Taya.”
I nod. Ranger is in my office—my new good luck charm.
“I yell for Eli to come to me, which he does, and Dakota picks him up and runs inside. Runs.” Clara’s voice cracks. “These people have scared us so much that we’re running into our own home on our own land.”
The Sheriff takes notes without reacting, but his jaw tightens slightly—the man beneath the professional. Wiley looks like a thundercloud, his eyes not leaving Clara.
“Dakota handled herself,” Clara finishes.
“She shouldn’t have had to,” Wiley says flatly. He pushes off from the window and walks to the table. He sits across from us beside the Sheriff. “Clara, I’m going to stay in my truck outside all night. Alright?”
“But—”
“It’s not a discussion.” He holds her gaze steadily. “You’re not going to have to run again.”
Clara’s eyes fill, and she nods slowly. “Thank you, Wiley.” She wipes at her cheeks that are wet again. “He’d been walking around the property—like he was taking inventory—when Dakota caught him and demanded what he was doing here.” Her hand goes to her heart. “Luis isn’t in today. She was alone with Eli. That man—anything could have happened to my baby girl.”
“I’m going to do a walk of the property first.” Wiley leans forward so he can hold Clara’s gaze properly. “Then I’ll stay posted at the end of the drive.”
“You can’t sit out there all night—”
“Won’t be the first time.” This comes from the Sheriff, who looks quietly amused.
“I have a guest room.” Clara straightens slightly. “It’s not much. But it’s a bed.”
Wiley glances at the Sheriff, who shrugs.
I nearly slap my hand over my forehead.
Wiley has a thing for Clara. It’s sweet, really.
“I’ll be fine in the truck,” he murmurs.
Clara frowns. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
“Because a man came to your land and dared to talk to your kids.” There’s heat in his voice, and his eyes are hard. “That’s why.”
Clara swallows, and her back firms up. “The offer of the guestroom stands if you change your mind.”
He picks up his hat and goes out.
Clara follows him, probably to check on the kids, probably to talk to him privately.
The Sheriff and I look at each other.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask.
