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“Your cattle?”

“Some were mine, some were MacGruder’s, and a couple carried the Circle Six brand.”

“When was this?”

“Close to forty years ago. Long before your time.” The clipped answer indicated his reluctance to discuss it further.

Logan didn’t let that stop him. “What happened?”

“There was a drought. Our wells had dried up and the grass grazed to the ground. And Calder had that north range without a cow on it and water in the river. We drove our herds onto it. We couldn’t afford hay, so it was either that or watch them starve to death. Calder met us, told us to turn back. When we didn’t, he told his men to start shootin’ our cattle. They did.” The bitterness of the memory was in his voice and his expression. “I know we were in the wrong, but I still remember how those cows fell.” He dragged in a cleansing breath. “It’s hard land, and it breeds hard men to hard ways. The Calders are about as hard as they come.”

“And your sister married a Calder,” Logan remarked, idly wondering at that.

“Yup.” O’Rourke dropped his gaze to the ground, the brim of his hat casting his face in shadows. “He loved her. I’ll say that much for him.”

“Sometimes that’s all that needs to be said.”

“I guess.” He looked up, again observing him in that closely watchful way. “What did you think of the boy?”

Logan frowned, puzzled that O’Rourke would be asking about Calder’s grandson again. “He seemed like a good kid. I didn’t really pay that much attention. Why do you ask?”

“’Cause next time maybe you should.”

“Why’s that?” His pager beeped. Logan checked it and smothered a sigh of irritation. “Excuse me.” He walked to the patrol car, slid behind the wheel, switched on the radio and called in. “This is Echohawk. What’s the problem?”

There was an initial squawk and a crackle, followed by the excited voice of Deputy Rouch. “There’s a fire at Fedderson’s. Hubble just called from the scene and said the gas pumps are engulfed in flames.”

“Has the foam truck been called in?”

“I don’t know,” the deputy replied uncertainly. “I never asked.”

“Find out,” Logan replied. “I’m on my way.”

“Ten-four.” Rouch at last responded with the radio codes he was so fond of spouting.

“Did he say Fedderson’s was on fire?” O’Rourke stepped up to the driver’s side when Logan started the engine.

“Yep.” Reversing away from the barn, he peeled out of the yard, driving with one hand and buckling his seat belt with the other.

When he hit the highway, he turned on the siren and raced toward Blue Moon. His thoughts traveled along a dozen different tangents, and he found himself wondering again why O’Rourke had asked him about Calder’s grandson. But the answer to that would have to come at another time.

SIXTEEN

Daylight brought a steady stream of locals to view the damage of the previous night’s fire. It was the most exciting thing that had happened in Blue Moon in years. They stared at the blackened metal shells of the gasoline pumps, the charred tires propped beside them, the fire-scorched concrete around them, and the globs of melted plastic, and listened intently to accounts of those who had been on the scene. All speculated on the disaster that might have occurred if the underground tanks had blown, while others wondered where they were going to buy gas for their vehicles.

The constant flow of people brought business, more business than Sally Brogan had ever had at her restaurant. By four o’clock Saturday afternoon, she was down to one package of buns, a dozen eggs, and two pounds of hamburger, and was completely out of lettuce—and the evening crowd had yet to arrive. Left with no choice, she made a quick trip to Fedderson’s store and came out with an armload of groceries.

She was halfway back to the restaurant when a pickup pulled off the highway and parked in front of it. Sally didn’t have to see the Triple C brand emblazoned on its doors to recognize Chase behind the wheel. Jessy and Cat were with him, along with young Quint.

“Honestly, Chase, don’t tell me you came to gawk at Emmett’s burned pumps, too?” Sally walked up to him when he climbed out of the truck.

“Actually, I thought it was time I took these two young ladies out to dinner.” But his glance was already sliding past her to the station area. “I did hear there was a fire. It doesn’t look like there’s much damage.”

“It was confined to the island. The gasoline pumps are a total loss. Unfortunately, it may be as much as a week before he can get new ones installed.” Sally glanced that way as well, the paper sacks rattling in her arms.

Jessy came around the truck, followed by Cat and her son. “Let me give you hand with those sacks, Sally,” Jessy offered, reaching out.

“No, thanks. Right now I have them wedged together. If you took one, I’d probably drop the rest.” She turned her smile on the tall blonde. “You’re looking well. How are you feeling?”

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