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“Yup.”
“What did you think of him?” Unconsciously she tightened the circle of her arms, gathering him closer to her.
“He was okay.” His slim shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug. “I gave him a ride on Molly.”
“I’ll bet he appreciated that.” An oddly poignant picture of the two of them riding the docile mare flashed in her mind. Cat knew she should have been relieved that neither of them had felt any connection to the other. After all, she wanted father and son to remain strangers to each other. So why this twinge of regret? She shied from the possible answer to that.
Instead she focused on the positive. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she was the only one who saw Quint’s resemblance to Logan. No one else had noticed it. Certainly Culley hadn’t until she pointed it out to him.
Perhaps her secret was safe after all. It was ironic that she had been afraid all this time without cause. Logan was no threat to her whatsoever.
FIFTEEN
Evening spread its thickening darkness across the high plains, blurring the dips and swells of the rolling terrain. Night’s first pale stars glittered dimly in the empurpled sky while below, twin headlight beams raced ahead of the speeding patrol car. Behind the wheel, Logan fixed his hard gaze on the halo of light in the near distance. He had been told the headquarters of the Triple C Ranch resembled a small town. It definitely threw the light of one.
He watched it grow brighter, his foot heavy, the speedometer hovering at seventy. Weariness pulled at him, adding its strain to his restless, irritable mood. He was conscious of the day’s grit on him and the hunger that gnawed at his empty stomach, reminders that what he wanted most was a hot shower, a cold drink, and a filling meal, not necessarily in that order.
But all that would come later; he had a stop to make first.
It was the job that brought him to the Triple C. Nothing else. Naturally Cat would be there, he had no doubt. That knowledge hardened his features, turning them into an impenetrable mask.
The patrol car topped the last rising swell of land, and the lights of the sprawling headquarters broke brilliantly through the deepening cloak of nightfall. Logan slowed the car and swung it toward the white-pillared front of the big house that rose head and shoulders above the rest of the buildings. It was a rangeland mansion, not as grand or elaborate as others he’d had cause to enter, but a mansion nevertheless.
Parking in front of it, Logan switched off the headlights and killed the engine, then stepped out, a high tension threading its way through his muscles. His gaze lifted to the two-story house and the fanlike gushes of light that spilled from its windows, giving its solidness a look of warmth and welcome.
He crossed to the front steps, impatience lengthening his stride. There was no bell to ring at the front door. He lifted the heavy brass knocker and brought it down solidly three times. The hard clanging shattered the evening’s hush and grated on nerves already made raw with tension and fatigue.
There was a warning turn of the knob before the door swung open and light flooded the porch. A tall, slender blonde stood in the opening, her classically strong features composed in an expression of warm interest tinged with curiosity.
Before he could utter a word, her glance flicked to his uniform and a smile lifted the edges of her wide mouth. “You must be Sheriff Echohawk.” She extended a hand in greeting. “I’m Ty’s wife, Jessy.”
“A pleasure, Mrs. Calder.” He had long ago found formality was best. It subtly established a boundary that the average person preferred.
“I expect you’re here on business.” Releasing his hand, she backed away to admit him. “Please come in.”
“Thank you.” He stepped inside and automatically removed his hat, combing a hand through his hair to lift its flatness.
In that same fractional second, he scanned the interior area, visually fixing the layout in his mind from habit. There, across the wide sprawl of the living room, stood Cat, poised at the bottom of the stairs, her shoulders bared by a pale blue sundress that softly draped her body. She lifted her head, showing him a pride that was like steel. He stared at her, knowing a hunger for which no word existed.
Then Jessy Calder spoke, and Logan clamped off his feelings and switched his attention back to the blonde. “Ty and Dad Calder are in the den.” She walked toward a set of double doors, indicating he should follow.
Chase Calder sat behind a huge desk, still every inch the range lord, yet shorn of some of life’s vigor now. Ty lounged beside the room’s massive fireplace, a shoulder braced against its stone face, a forefinger rubbing across his mustache in a thoughtful pose. He came erect when Logan walked into the room.
“Echohawk, good to see you.” Chase rocked back in his chair, but didn’t rise. “Ty and I were just talking about the dead cattle, and wondering what you might have learned?”
“One thing is certain, Mr. Calder. Somebody out there doesn’t like you very much,” Logan stated with an abruptness that was perhaps not politically wise.
Chase gave him an amused look, a metal-hard irony at the corners of his mouth. “The Triple C has always been a big target for people with stones in their hands. A lot of things have changed, but that hasn’t.”
“And probably never will,” Logan agreed with an answering glint of wryness. “I could be wrong, but this reads like more than a simple case of malicious mischief.”
“What did you find today?” Ty asked.
“A half dozen bullets that I dug out of the carcasses, the print of a bootheel near that pile of entrails, and only one shell casing, which tells me the rest were picked up. I also found a blood trail in the grass that ran about ten yards before it disappeared. It looks to me like they butchered one of the cows, then used a winch to drag it to their vehicle and load it up.”
No sound marked Cat’s entrance into the room, but Logan knew the minute she appeared in the doorway. It was an animal awareness he had of her. But he allowed no break in his talk to betray the fact her presence was in any way unsettling. “At this point, it’s only supposition. All the signs point to that, but I can’t say it as a hard and fast fact.”
“You said they,” Cat broke in, walking the rest of the way into the room.
