Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Concern quickly replaced Lydia's teasing. "Then I'll keep Noah and Maggie occupied for the day. They can come home with me after breakfast to give Amy a chance to rest without Maggie finding twelve reasons she urgently needs her every hour."
Caleb almost smiled because the estimate actually sounded rather low. "They’re still upstairs. I'll tell them when they come down.”
"You take care of your wife. I'll handle the children." Lydia nodded toward the tray, her mouth curving again. "Assuming that breakfast doesn't finish her off first."
Caleb gave her a flat look before carrying the tray down the hall to Amy's room.
Amy answered his knock almost immediately, calling for him to come in.
She looked rested, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, though the pillow beneath her ankle reminded him she would need to take things slowly for the next few days.
Confusion flickered across her face when she noticed the tray. "You made me breakfast?"
"I did. The bacon came out well," he admitted, "but I'd ask you to show the eggs mercy."
Amy sampled them anyway before smiling over the rim of her teacup. "I've tasted worse."
"I'm fairly certain you're protecting my feelings." Warmth settled quietly inside him while she ate, and he stayed by the window longer than necessary, watching the yard without really seeing it. Instead, he watched Amy herself through the glass panes.
"Lydia's staying with the children today," he said as he picked up the empty tray. "Let her fuss over the house."
"And what am I supposed to do?"
"Rest."
Amy rolled her eyes, but the smile she tried to hide told Caleb she was more amused than annoyed. “I’ll be here when you get back. I promise I won’t attempt anything heroic.”
Caleb felt some of the concern leave his expression.
“I’ll settle for nothing involving stairs, horses, or uneven ground.
” Caleb left the room with that comment, carrying the image of Amy smiling after him all the way across the yard toward the waiting pasture.
Russ worked a few posts ahead, replacing storm-damaged rails, while Caleb reset the hinges on a sagging pasture gate, and Noah followed them, carrying a leather pouch filled with nails like the entire repair depended upon his careful supervision.
The boy had grown bolder over the past week. Instead of waiting for instructions, he watched Caleb closely enough to anticipate what came next, offering another nail before he had even stretched out his hand. Caleb accepted it with a quiet nod.
"I'll be out of work before the winter," Russ observed without looking up from the fence post he was driving into the ground. "You've trained yourself another foreman."
Noah's face brightened. "A foreman's important!"
"He usually thinks he is," Russ replied dryly, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. "The pay sounds better than the job makes it."
Noah turned immediately toward Caleb. "I get paid?"
Caleb looked at the boy’s hopeful expression and fought his threatening smile. "You've been listening to the wrong man. Russ has spent years trying to angle for a raise."
Russ let out a low chuckle. "And look how well that's worked out for me so far."
The easy conversation faded when they returned to the fence, leaving only the steady ring of hammer against nail and the distant sounds of cattle grazing beyond the rise. Caleb had almost finished fastening the final hinge when movement across the pasture drew his attention.
One steer stood alone several yards from the herd.
At first, he assumed the animal had simply wandered away to graze, though it never lowered its head toward the grass.
It remained strangely still, swaying slightly as though it was struggling to stay balanced, and an uneasy feeling settled low in Caleb's stomach.
He straightened slowly. "Russ." The older man followed his gaze without another word. Both of them watched as the steer lurched sideways, caught itself, then stumbled again, before collapsing heavily onto its knees.
Caleb was already moving before it hit the ground.
The animal was struggling for breath by the time he reached it, its flanks rising unevenly while thick foam gathered around its mouth.
He rested a steady hand against its neck, hoping it had just eaten spoiled feed or tangled itself in poisonous weeds, yet neither explanation accounted for the second steer lying beneath the cottonwoods near the creek.
His pulse quickened when he saw the third animal lay farther downhill.
"What are we looking at?" he asked quietly.
Russ crouched beside him, studying the steer with the practiced eye of a man who had spent most of his life around livestock. Caleb watched concern settle across the older rancher's face before Russ slowly looked toward the creek. He didn't answer.
Caleb followed his line of sight. The water flowed exactly as it always had, sparkling beneath the early autumn sun while the current slipped lazily around smooth stones, yet movement along the ridge beyond the pasture caught his eye before he could take another step.
Above them, a lone rider urged a dark horse into a gallop.
Distance swallowed every detail of them except the outline of a broad-brimmed hat and a long dark coat, though the man's hurried departure stirred an instinct Caleb had learned to trust years ago.
Ranchers rarely fled from another man's property unless they had good reason to avoid being recognized.
The horse quickly disappeared beyond the rise.
"Caleb!" Russ called. "We need Harris."
Caleb hesitated only long enough to glance once more toward the empty ridge before sprinting for Daisy.
The ride into Copper Bend sharpened the fear growing inside him with every mile.
Sick cattle could ruin a struggling ranch quickly enough on their own, and whatever he had glimpsed near the creek convinced him this had nothing to do with bad luck.
Doctor Harris wasted little time asking questions after seeing Caleb's face. The veterinarian quickly gathered his medical bag and rode back alongside him. They urged both animals hard enough that they reached the ranch in little more than half the usual time.
The pasture greeted them with grim silence.
Another steer had gone down while Caleb was away, and Russ had driven the remaining herd uphill, keeping them well away from the creek until they knew what was making the cattle sick.
He met them before either man had fully dismounted, his face grim beneath the brim of his hat.
“We lost another while you were gone. I moved the rest away from the water as soon as you left.”
Doctor Harris acknowledged the words with a grave nod before kneeling beside the nearest animal. He examined its eyes, lifted its lip to study the gums, then rested one hand against its neck without speaking. Finally, he rose. "Show me where they drink."
Caleb led him toward the creek, his eyes returning again to the ridge where the stranger had been.
The water appeared perfectly ordinary, clear enough that the bottom showed plainly beneath the current, yet Doctor Harris crouched anyway, scooping a little into his palm before pausing thoughtfully.
Instead of speaking, he began walking slowly along the bank.
Several yards downstream, he stopped beside a patch of reeds and reached for a fallen branch, using it to drag a heavy burlap sack from the water. Stones tumbled free as the dripping bundle slid onto the grass, releasing a sharp odor that carried easily through the cool morning air.
Russ stared at the sack before turning toward Caleb. "I've seen this once before," he said quietly. "A ranch near Laramie lost half its herd from it."
Doc Harris put the branch aside and looked across the pasture where the dying cattle struggled to rise. "This wasn't disease," he said. "Whoever did this meant to destroy your herd." His gaze settled upon Caleb with quiet certainty. "Your creek has been poisoned."