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“The Calders have a big name. It’s logical that they would have some protection around,” Rutledge replied in unconcern. “I’ll check out Hattie Ludlow and see what her connection was to this Laredo Smith. In the meantime, you learn what you can about him. But make sure he doesn’t find out that you’re asking about him.”
“Don’t worry. The questions won’t be coming from me.” Then Donovan asked, “Did that information I sent you about the Kaufman ranch arrive yet?”
“It came Friday.” Without expressing an interest, or lack thereof, in the property, Rutledge moved on to other matters before bringing the conversation to a quick conclusion.
When Donovan emerged from the back office a few minutes later, he was greeted by the sound of two sets of footsteps going up the rear staircase. A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth at the sight of the semi still parked outside and the empty restaurant area.
Some thirty minutes later, he rousted the rest of his girls from their beds and gathered all of them together. His instructions came with a promise of a reward and a warning not to deviate from the reason he had given them for seeking the information he wanted. All swore they wouldn’t, and he was confident they knew better than to try.
Chapter Fourteen
A relentless August sun had burned off all the early morning coolness, and the air was as dry as the thick brown grass beneath the horses’ hooves. Already Trey could feel a trickle of sweat running down his back, and it was barely midmorning.
Thirty-odd head of cows plodded ahead of him. Every now and then one would pause to grab a bite of the buffalo grass that was already cropped short. When a straggler lowered her head to sample some, Trey started to rein his horse toward it, but Laredo was already there, slapping a coiled rope against his leg. Reluctantly, the cow trotted forward to rejoin the rest.
Off to his right, a pair of cows crested a low rise at a harried trot. Tank Willis was right behind them, keeping up a steady pressure until they neared the slow-moving herd. Then he backed off and swung his horse in between Trey and Laredo.
“Those two are the last from that section. Johnny and Ben rode up to check the butte.” His horse released a blowing snort and settled into a jigging walk. In one continuous motion, Tank took off his hat, wiped his forehead sweat on a shirtsleeve, and rocked the hat back on his head. “You know, I can’t remember ever moving cattle off their summer pasture the first week in August.”
“There wasn’t any choice this year,” said Trey. “Another month on this grass and they would have chewed it to the roots.”
Tank nodded in understanding and scanned the cloudless sky. “If it don’t rain soon, we’ll be feeding them a lot of hay this winter. And soon, too.”
“True enough.” Trey rested his hands on the saddle horn, sitting easy but alert in the saddle.
“Somebody at The Oasis told me last Saturday night that they’re calling for rain next week,” Tank offered on a wistful note.
“God knows, we’re long past due for some.” Trey made his own study of the pale blue sky.
“Hey, Laredo.” Tank’s sudden grin had a streak of devilry in it. “You know that redhead that works at The Oasis—the one called Bambi?”
“I remember seeing a redhead there,” Laredo acknowledged. “What about her?”
“It seems she’s sweet on you.”
Laredo eyed him with skeptical amusement.” Where did you get a fool idea like that?”
“Andy Palmer told me last Saturday.”
“That she was sweet on me?” His glance questioned that claim.
“Well, actually Andy said that she was asking about you.” Tank’s grin widened. “She claimed she thought you were kinda cute for an old guy.” He put teasing stress on the “old” part.
“Did she want to know anything else about me?” Laredo wondered, his lazy smile still in place, but with a sharpening of his glance.
“Naw, that was about it,” Tank admitted, then eyed Laredo with sly, mocking humor. “Although Andy did mention that she thought you might be a foreman or something. She was probably trying to find out how much money you make. You’d best be careful the next time you go in there, or she’ll be sliding all over you, trying to coax some of it out of you.” Laughing, he hauled back on the reins and turned his horse away from them. “See you later.”
Off he rode in the direction of the butte. Trey ran a curious glance over Laredo, watching as he hurried along a lagging cow.
“I could be wrong,” Trey began in a casual tone, “but I had the feeling that you didn’t like the idea that this redhead was asking questions about you.”
“Maybe I’m not sure she was the one wanting the information,” Laredo countered.
“You think somebody else put her up to it?”
“Could be.”
There was only one logical choice for that person. “Why would Donovan be trying to get information about you?”
