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“Yeah, well, he can do it somewhere else.”
Cassie smiled wryly. “I’m sure the minute he can, he’ll make tracks out of here so fast, all we’ll see is dust.”
“Can’t happen soon enough to suit me!” Ivan declared, spooning two fried eggs onto a short stack of cakes and pouring maple syrup over the whole lot.
“So what do you think happened to Black Magic?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.”
“Dad . . .” Cassie cajoled, probing past the crusty facade of Ivan’s surliness. “What do you really think?”
“How the hell should I know? He probably just ran off. The horse isn’t dumb, you know.” Ivan chuckled. “Maybe Black Magic got tired of Colton McLean and took off for greener pastures.”
“Be serious.”
“Okay, my best guess is that the stallion was randy, saw some mares and jumped the fence.”
“The wires were cut.”
Ivan’s brows inched up. “Cut?”
“Snipped—just on the other side of the Sage. Where our property butts up to the McLeans’.”
“So from that, Colton thinks I had something to do with it?”
“That and the fact that there were tire tracks on the wet ground.”
“Big deal.”
“Colton seems to think it is. He came over here with his guns loaded!”
“Did he now?” Ivan’s old eyes sparkled. “I hope you gave him hell.”
“Well, I tried to throw him off the property, but that didn’t work.” She cocked her thumb toward a worn spot under the table where Erasmus lay hoping for a fallen tidbit. “Our watchdog here barked his head off, then turned over and whined for Colton to rub his belly.”
Ivan chuckled, though the features of his face had tightened. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said. “I’d have given McLean a piece of my mind and saved you the trouble.”
“I handled it.”
His gaze darkened. “He’s a bastard, Cassie. Always has been. Always will be. I haven’t forgotten what he did to you.”
Cassie’s chest grew tight. “Let’s not talk about it.”
Tenderness crept into the old man’s features. “Okay—it’s over and done with.”
“Right.” But Cassie could feel his gaze searching hers.
“Maybe the fence was just broken.”
“He didn’t seem to think so. I thought I’d go check it out this afternoon when I get back from town.”
Ivan shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if I were you—”
“I know, I know. You’d stay away from Colton McLean.”
“All the McLeans,” Ivan clarified, his expression hardening. “But especially Colton. He’s as bad as his uncle was.” Then, as if he, too, didn’t want to dwell on a past filled with pain and betrayal, he turned his gaze to his plate and tackled his breakfast with renewed vigor.
They finished the meal in silence, Cassie stil
