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“I have. He and Cassie swear he’s not involved.”
“He and Cassie? What’s she got to do with it?”
“She’s here now. She’s the one who diagnosed Black Magic.”
Denver’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Why not Fulton?”
Colton’s back stiffened. “He was busy,” he snapped.
For a minute Denver didn’t say anything, but Colton could feel the anger, the unspoken accusations crackling over the thin telephone wires. “Keep me posted,” he finally ordered.
“Will do.” Colton hung up feeling oddly protective of Cassie and her father. Though there was no love lost between Ivan and himself, Colton couldn’t imagine the man intentionally hurting any animal—even an animal belonging to the McLeans. Nor did he think anyone around here would. Ranching stock was looked upon with a reverence that couldn’t be compromised.
He walked through the kitchen and found Milly putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “How did Denver take the news?” she asked as Colton reached for his hat and jacket near the door.
“About as well as I expected.”
“That bad?” she quipped, but the joke fell flat.
“Worse,” he muttered, glancing around the kitchen. Nearly everything was put away. “Why don’t you take off?”
“In a few minutes.” She polished the bottom of a gleaming copper pot and looked up to offer an encouraging smile.
Colton kicked open the door and strode quickly down the back steps. Outside, the sky was dark. A few pale clouds drifted across a half moon, and the breeze brushing his cheeks held the lingering chill of winter.
His boots crunched on the gravel as he strode across the yard. Was it possible? Would someone intentionally try to destroy the McLeans—and use the livestock to do it? The ugly thought soured his stomach as he yanked open the door to the old foaling shed.
There he found Cassie with Black Magic. She was talking quietly to the horse, her voice soothing, her hands gentle as they ran along his neck and shoulders. Glancing up at Colton, she forced a thin smile. “His fever hasn’t gone up.”
“Is that good?”
“I think so—but it’s still too early to tell.”
“And Tempest?”
“No change. Neither one has eaten anything.” She slipped out of the stall and washed her hands while Colton observed both stallions. Listless and dull, Tempest barely flicked his ears when Colton walked to his stall. His head was still painfully extended, and his eyes held no spark.
“Hang in there,” Colton whispered, wondering if the once-ornery stallion would take a turn for the worse.
“What did Denver have to say?”
“Nothing good,” Colton evaded. There wasn’t any reason to confide in Cassie—not yet. Denver’s theory was just angry words. When he calmed down a little, he would probably change his mind. Or would he? Uncomfortable, Colton glanced from Cassie back to Black Magic, wondering who was responsible for this mess and coming up with only his own name.
“I want to check the other horses again before I leave,” Cassie said. “Just in case.”
“Right.” Colton led the way through the various buildings. Fortunately all the horses, though disturbed slightly at the unusual intrusion, looked fine. Colton waited for Cassie at the door and snapped out the lights as she walked outside.
Aside from her truck and Colton’s Jeep, the parking lot was empty. Milly and the hands had already left. With Colton at her side, Cassie started for her car, but he grabbed her hand, turning her to face him. He didn’t want her to leave, not just yet. Having her here was comforting. She looked up at him expectantly, and his insides quivered. “If I didn’t say it before, thanks for dropping everything and coming over.”
“All part of my job,” she replied.
He didn’t let go of her hand. “But you stayed. That was above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Not really.” Somewhere in the distance a night bird called plaintively, and a mild breeze caught in her hair and murmured through the trees. Cassie’s eyes were luminous in the pale moonlight. Withdrawing her hand, she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were chilled to the bone.
“Cold?”
“I’ll survive.”
