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“Gracias a Diós. Maria has been frantic for her father. You can tell us everything over breakfast.”
“And how have things been here?” They walked toward the house together. She’d only been away for a couple of days, but with so much happening, it felt more like weeks.
“The animals are fine. So are Shane and Lexie and the little one. But Val has gone with Casey to look for their son.”
“Yes, I know. She sent me a text.”
“Do you think they will find him?”
“Only with a great deal of luck. I fear they will come back with their hearts broken.”
“Then I hope you are wrong,” Pedro said. “But I must ask you another question. With Ruben needing to rest and Val perhaps leaving, there is more work on this ranch than one man can do.”
“Yes, I agree,” Tess said. “I’ve been thinking about hiring more help.”
Pedro cleared his throat. “My brother has two strong sons. They are young, but good boys. They know horses and cattle, and they are looking for work.”
“They could be just what we need. Get them here, Pedro. We’ll give them a try. If they work out, they can stay.”
“Good. I’ll ask my brother to bring them in his truck. Maria and I will get the bunkhouse ready.” Pedro grinned. “Did I mention that they are twins?”
“Now that does sound interesting.” Tess gave him a smile as she mounted the porch and was welcomed by the dog, wagging and panting. She scratched his ears. It was good to be home.
Sitting around the breakfast table was almost like old times—except that Ruben and Callie were absent and Shane was there. Lexie had pulled her baby’s stroller up to the table, where she could watch him. Young Jackson was filling out, growing round and plump. Looking at her sister’s family across the table, Tess was aware that they would soon be leaving for Brock’s ranch. Now that the danger appeared to be over, there was nothing to keep them from going. How was she going to manage without them?
As the conversation drifted around to it, she gave a watered-down account of the bombing, the discovery of Jim’s body, and her own struggle with the hit man. Told in full detail, the story would have upset them all.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Shane said. “If the hit man was hired to kill Brock, why did he do so much damage at first? And why did he go after you?”
“It’s complicated,” Tess said. “The person who wanted Brock dead wanted him to suffer first—losing animals, property, and the one woman they’d seen in his company.”
“And he still doesn’t know who did the hiring?”
“Not yet.” She would never tell anyone about Brock’s secret past. That secret would remain between the two of them—as would other things that had happened.
Brock phoned her late in the day. He’d arrived home a few hours earlier and taken time to rest and catch up on events at his ranch.
“So how did things go at the ranch while you were away?” Tess asked.
“Surprisingly calm. No dead stock or broken fences. No threatening mail. I left Rusty in charge. He did a good job.”
“And did you call the police about the dead hit man?”
“I did. They identified him from his prints. Fritz Jaeger, something of a celebrity in the underworld. There’ll be an inquest, and you might need to give your testimony on Zoom. But anything you did was clearly in self-defense. And you didn’t kill him. He fell on his own needle—the autopsy will confirm that.”
“More fun to look forward to.” She made a wry joke.
“There’s something else, Tess . . .” He trailed off, as if organizing his next thoughts.
“I know, Brock. You said this trouble wouldn’t be over until you ended it. What do you plan to do?”
“Driving home, I did a lot of thinking. Everything started with that accident in Missouri, all those years ago. I need to go back, talk to people who might remember, try to find out who would hate me enough to hire a hit man.”
“And who would have enough money to pay him.”
“That too. I’ll be leaving in the next couple of days. Just me. I know you’ll be busy at your ranch, and I need to do this alone.”
“I understand.” And she really did. “But be careful. There’s a woman here who wants you back in one piece.”
