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“I know what you mean.” Her smile faded. “Even as a boy, Lath never caused any trouble, but you always had the feeling he could.”

“Everyone has the capacity to cause trouble.”

“You’re probably right.” She breathed in deeply and let it out in a sigh. “If there’s anything else you need, just holler.”

“I will.”

After the first few bites, the edge was off his hunger, and the meal became no different than a thousand others that he’d eaten alone, without conversation to liven it. He listened to the laughter from the bar area, and the constant run of talk, holding himself away from it as he had always done—except that night when Cat had walked over to him and pulled him into it.

Annoyed that he had allowed the thought of her to cross his mind, Logan washed the last bite of food down with a swallow of coffee, rose from his chair, dropped some tip money on the table, then gathered up his hat and the check and walked over to the cash register.

With the pool game over, Lath sat at the bar and stared at Logan’s reflection in the back mirror, tracking him as he paid for his check and crossed to the door. After it swung shut behind him, Lath took a long pull on his beer, then set it back on the bar counter, idly turning it in semicircles.

“I don’t get it,” he murmured. “That guy’s got too much smarts to be in this out-of-the-way place.”

“What guy?” Rollie glanced over his shoulder.

“Echohawk.”

He squared back around to the bar and shrugged. “Maybe he just likes it here.”

“Maybe. Then again, maybe he’s lost his nerve.”

“He doesn’t act like he’s lost it.”

“No,” Lath conceded. “But I’d sure like to know.”

“Personally, I hope I never have to find out.” Rollie tipped the bottle to his mouth.

Lath chortled and slapped him on the back, gripping his shoulder and giving it a shake. “By God, little brother, you’re smarter than I thought you were.”

Both pleased and a little embarrassed, Rollie said, “Hell, I am your brother.”

They both laughed.

It was late when Logan finally finished up all the paperwork and made the long drive to his ranch. He bypassed the house and drove straight to the barn. Tired as he was, he still had the horses to feed. Leaving the lights on, he climbed out of the patrol car and headed toward the barn’s wide door.

“I already throwed ’em some hay.” The voice came out of the deep shadows near the barn.

Whirling in a crouch, Logan had the holster flap loose and his hand on the gun butt before the voice registered as a familiar one. Even then the high alertness didn’t leave him, his gaze raking the shadows, seeking the source of it.

“Step out where I can see you.” That same tension gave his voice the hardness of command.

Culley O’Rourke separated himself from the shadows without the slightest sound. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Logan.”

“What the hell are you doing here, O’Rourke?” He straightened slowly, gripped by an anger that came from being caught completely off guard.

“Just waiting around for you to come.”

“It’s usually my enemies who wait in the shadows, O’Rourke.”

“I reckon that’s so.” He nodded, then lifted his hand, motioning toward the corral. “Like I said, I noticed your horses hadn’t been fed, so I went ahead and threw ’em some hay.”

“Thanks.” Logan made an effort to rein in his anger. “I had to work late finishing up some paperwork.”

“I know.” Culley studied him with a bright-eyed watchfulness. “I saw you with the kid today.”

“The kid.” For a puzzled instant, Logan didn’t know who he meant. Then he remembered Calder’s young grandson. “How did you see me? Where were you?”

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