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“That settles it then. We’ll rendezvous back here tomorrow morning.” Jessy paused to consider the drive they would have to make from Miles City. “Would nine o’clock be too early?”
“We can make it.” Chase didn’t hesitate.
A lazy smile curved Laredo’s mouth. “I think he’s tired of being snuck in and out of motel rooms.”
“I don’t blame him.” There was empathy in the look Jessy gave Chase. Then the practical side of her surfaced. “If there is nothing else, I need to start back. We all have a lot to do before tomorrow morning.”
She was halfway out of the truck when Chase stopped her. “Before you go, I have a question to ask you. What was I doing in Texas? Why did I go there?”
“You said you had a meeting with somebody named Brewster. Tom Brewster, I think it was.” Her recollection of the man’s first name was hazy.
“Who is Brewster? What does he do?”
“To be honest, I don’t know,” Jessy admitted. “To the best of my knowledge, the ranch has never had any dealings with him in the past. In some way he’s involved with cattle, but I don’t know if he’s a buyer, a rancher, a broker or what.”
“Didn’t I tell you why I was going to see him?” Chase probed.
“Just that you wanted to talk to him about some cattle.”
“Am I usually that vague?” Chase frowned in skepticism.
“No,” Jessy admitted with a slight smile. “But you also told me that being away for a few days would give me an opportunity to run the ranch on my own. I thought that was probably your main reason for going to Texas. I know you didn’t give me the impression the trip was of any great importance. I wish now I had asked more questions,” she said with regret.
“Maybe the trip was an excuse to be gone.” Chase was forced to concede that possibility. “But until we can be certain of that, see what you can find out about this man Brewster.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, he withdrew them. “No, we don’t want to tip our hand in case he is an important connection. So don’t ask questions about him, but see if I wrote his address or phone number down somewhere. If I did, get that information to me. In the meantime I’ll figure out the best way to handle it.”
“It’s logical that Chase would have called him from the hotel,” Laredo inserted. “Look through the room charges and write down any phone numbers that you don’t recognize.”
“Logan took care of your bill while they were in Fort Worth. I’m almost positive he gave me the itemized receipt. I’ll see what I can find,” Jessy promised. “Anything else?”
“For now, only one. I’ll need some cash,” Chase told her. “I don’t have a cent on me. I’m not sure exactly how much I owe Laredo and Hattie already, but it’s adding up every day.”
“I’ll bring some money for you tomorrow.” Jessy swung to the ground and retrieved her rifle, then turned back to them, unusually solemn. “I’ll meet you here at nine tomorrow. Be careful.”
“You can count on it.” Chase pulled the passenger door shut. In silence, they swung out of the old cemetery. Not until they were on the road toward Blue Moon did Chase speak again. “You’re right about Jessy. I would hate to learn she can’t be trusted.”
“Me too,” Laredo said. “She’s an easy woman to like.”
“I just hope she doesn’t give you reason to regret letting her know that you are armed.”
“If she is as square as I think she is, she needs to be alert for that.” He slid a wry grin in Chase’s direction. “Maybe you can teach her the ins and outs of cattle ranching, but I can teach her the skills to stay alive.”
Absently amused and inwardly pleased, Chase ran his glance over the man’s clean profile. “That sounds like you are signing on for the duration.”
“Do you have a problem with that?” Laredo countered, a faint twinkle in his blue eyes.
“Not a one.” Smiling, Chase settled back in the seat, making himself comfortable for the long ride back to Miles City.
The brown horse shuffled along at an easy trot, its rider in no hurry and bound for no particular destination. But Culley O’Rourke’s wanderings rarely had a purpose. The sole exception to that rule involved his niece Cat Calder Echohawk. Ever since his sister had been killed in that plane crash when Cat was still a teenager he had made it his mission to watch over Maggie’s daughter. But on this day Cat was at home, still enveloped in grief over her father’s recent death.
But Calder’s
death was no cause for regret as far as Culley was concerned. There was a time when he had been consumed with hatred for the man. The hatred had burned itself out, though, and he had come to tolerate the man’s existence, for Cat’s sake.
Without a doubt, the years had wrought many changes in Culley O’Rourke, most notably in his appearance. His hair that had once been the glistening black of a crow had grayed to the color of a weathered barn board. His once wide shoulders had thinned and appeared permanently bowed in a protective hunch. The nervous, hair-trigger energy that had so often seemed poised on the edge of violence had faded to a constant restlessness.
It was that innate restlessness that pushed him to this endless wandering that knew no boundaries. Long ago the Triple C riders had grown used to seeing him ghosting over the ranch’s vast holdings, invariably fighting shy of any contact.
If his presence drew any comment at all, it was generally something wry like, “Saw ole Crazy Culley today, sloping out of sight behind a hill.” And it was always issued with an amused shake of the head.
