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“No one has ever called Laredo a Silent Sam.” It seemed the safest reply to make considering that Jessy knew Laredo would be doing a lot more nosing around.
Morning’s dawn found Culley camped next to a rocky outcropping that provided both concealment and an unobstructed view of the Circle Six ranch yard. The kitchen light had come on about ten minutes ago. Culley figured it was likely Logan in there, making a pot of coffee.
Some mornings Logan had a cup first, and on others he went straight out to do the morning chores. Sometimes he left by the front door, and sometimes by the back. In Echohawk’s profession, routines could be a dangerous habit, and he was careful not to follow any.
Knowing this about the man, Culley settled back to wait. Within minutes the big draft horses in the corral nickered a greeting and trotted to the barn door. Cully hadn’t seen Logan cross the yard, which meant that he must have exited the house through the back door.
Most mornings Culley would have ridden down and given Logan a hand with the chores, but this wasn’t one of them. This morning he didn’t budge from his spot until Logan drove off in his patrol car nearly an hour later. Even then Culley didn’t ride directly to the house, but circled around to the rear, left his horse among some trees, and slipped quietly through the back door.
Cat was busy clearing the breakfast dishes from the table. Not at all surprised by his sudden appearance, she threw him a quick smile. “You just missed Logan. He left less than five minutes ago.”
“I heard him.” Culley lingered by the door, making a searching scan of the living room. “Isn’t Quint up yet?”
“He stayed up late last night so I decided to let him sleep in this morning.” She placed the dirty dishes in the sink and took a clean cup out of the cupboard. “Want some coffee?”
After a small hesitation, he nodded. “Sure.” He crossed to the counter and took the filled cup of coffee from her.
“I’ll bet you haven’t eaten this morning. How about some bacon and eggs?” Without waiting for an answer, Cat collected the items from the refrigerator and set about preparing them. Hovering close by, Culley watched in silence. “I haven’t seen much of you these last couple days.” Her sideways glance swept over him in idle curiosity. “What have you been up to?”
“Not much.”
But Cat noticed the way he avoided meeting her eyes. She turned the bacon in the skillet and stole another glance at him. Her uncle was a man who was never entirely comfortable within the confines of four walls, yet she had the impression that he was more on edge than usual.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked in a deliberately idle tone.
“Nope.”
Cat felt certain there was something on his mind, but she didn’t press the issue. He was a secretive man by nature, but she was the one person he trusted. Sooner or later he would tell her, but his approach to the subject was likely to be indirect.
“You been over to the Triple C lately?” he asked.
“No.” Everything inside her tightened up at the mere mention of the ranch. It was impossible for Cat to think of the ranch without thinking of her father. Everything about it reminded her of him.
“I didn’t figure you had,” Culley replied. “I guess it still hurts too much.”
“Every time I drive up to The Homestead, there is a part of me that still believes I’ll find Dad in the den sitting behind his desk. But here, I’m not reminded every single minute that he’s gone, not like Sally is.” Just talking about it brought all the pain back.
For a long minute, Culley said nothing, then he remarked, “Do you remember anything about a rancher from Texas by the name of Smith?”
“I don’t think so. Why?” She darted him a quick smile, grateful for the change of subject.
“No reason in particular.” His slim shoulders lifted in an indifferent shrug. “I heard Calder was supposed to be a friend of the family.”
“He could have been. But I don’t recall them.” She cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet and emptied it into the hot grease, then picked up the second egg. “That doesn’t mean anything, though. Dad knew a lot of people that I didn’t.”
“Jessy knows ’em.”
“Then the Smiths were probably somebody Dad met at a cattleman’s function. Ty and Jessy went to a lot of them with Dad.”
“I saw Jessy talkin’ to ’im at the funeral.”
“Did you?” Cat replied without any real interest.
“The next day she slipped off an’ met ’im at the old cemetery.”
“The old cemetery?” Cat frowned in confusion. “You mean where your parents are buried?”
“That one.” He nodded.
