Chapter Eight
Lil hadn’t expected to sleep, but exhaustion proved to be too much.
She slept hard, then woke early. If she’d had dreams, she couldn’t remember, but she felt tired upon waking, as if she’d spent the entire night running.
A quick look out her bedroom window told her that Jordan had woken even earlier.
He was leaning against the rail fence, studying the tree line on the far side of the boundary fences.
He looked like a target himself. She pushed the thought aside.
The pasture was marked with tire treads from where truck had hauled away her poor cow. Her gut tightened.
What if the shooter came back?
Maybe she and Meg would have to find another place to lease after all.
The idea she’d been so dead set against—moving an entire ranch—was more palatable than the idea of her cows being picked off one by one.
Or worse yet, harm coming to a person. And the peace she’d felt on this place, well that was certainly shattered.
She turned away from the window and grabbed fresh clothes before heading out of the room to the bathroom, planning to take a quick shower before facing the day. Meg had beaten her there. She reversed course for the other bathroom and its rarely used tub and handheld shower.
By the time she was dry and dressed, there was another vehicle in the driveway. Dakota had arrived for work, and she needed to explain what had happened—if he hadn’t already heard. News traveled fast.
She pushed the button on the coffeemaker and headed outside, scrunching her damp hair into waves with one hand as she left the house. Dakota and Jordan were talking near the fence, and she could see that Dakota was working to process whatever he’d just been told.
They turned as she approached, and Dakota instantly asked her if she was all right.
“As good as one could expect,” she said.
“This is nuts,” he said. “Someone just shot a cow.”
“Until we know more, I’m thinking that we should lay low for a while.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Take a few days off.”
Dakota’s face fell. He needed the extra money. That was no secret.
“Or I could stay here with you guys. You know. Just in case.”
He was so sincere in his offer that Lil’s heart squeezed. “We appreciate that.” She gestured at Jordan with her chin. “You’ve met the owner of the place.”
Dakota nodded. “Just now as a matter of fact.”
“He’s staying here for the time being, so we have backup if something else happens.”
“It probably won’t,” Jordan said in a reassuring voice. “But maybe a day or two to regroup wouldn’t hurt.”
Dakota nodded, studying the ground. Jordan looked at Lil over the top of the teen’s head, and she gave a tiny shrug, not knowing what he was silently trying to convey.
“My brother could use some help on the Tree Fork if you’re looking for a few days’ work,” Jordan said casually.
“Really?” Dakota was no fool.
“They’re spreading manure on the fields. Could always use a driver. Especially since I’m not there.”
“Okay …” Dakota said slowly before glancing at Lil.
“Just a couple days,” she said. “We want to hear what the sheriff thinks is and isn’t safe to do.”
“Okay. Yeah.” He looked up at Jordan. “Should I just show up? Call?”
“I’ll call,” Jordan said. “You show up.”
“Deal,” Dakota said, still uncertain as to whether he was doing the right thing by leaving Lil and Meg.
“I’ll keep you posted on what happens here,” she assured him. After the teen had headed to his truck she gave Jordan a sideways glance. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. I’d better call and let Hayes and Trev know that they’re shorthanded for a few days.”
Meaning they weren’t and that Jordan had manufactured work for her day hand. Before she could thank him, he added, “I also told Dakota that I wasn’t going to sell, so he wasn’t going to get fired.”
She loved hearing those words aloud, but reality smacked away her gratitude.
“If we aren’t too spooked to work the place.” She nudged an oversized stone in the gravel with the toe of her boot. “I’m pissed about how effective this tactic was. I lost a cow. Lost future income. I’m afraid of losing another cow. Hell, I’m kind of afraid to be standing here in the open.”
“I think that’s the general idea.”
“Agreed.” She pushed her hands into her back pockets. “After I feed, I’m going to have a cup of coffee and call my clients. Let them know what’s going on.” She pulled her lip into her teeth briefly. “Not looking forward to this.”
“When you’re done, and the deputy has finished his check, we’ll assess. Delineate what we know and what we don’t.”
Lil had almost forgotten that he was an engineer. And she hated to say it, but she was glad he was there. It was good to have someone there who, while involved, wasn’t related to her. Someone to help them sort through this. Someone who cared enough about her teenage ranch hand to give him a job.
“When we got this lease, Meg and I thought we were getting a new start, leaving the bad behind.”
“This still might be a series of unrelated incidents.”
She cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “A run of bad luck? Do you believe that?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then we need to do something about it.”
“Agreed.” Jordan gave her an appraising look, then asked abruptly, “Do you trust me?”
Lil went still, knowing that he was asking the same question Meg had asked the night before—did she think he had something to do with the shooting?
His face was drawn into hard lines as he waited for a response, and she couldn’t help but flash on the moment last night when he’d tucked the hair behind her ear, his knuckles lightly brushing her cheek. His expression had been tender then, a sharp contrast to the face he now wore.
“You’re asking if I think you had something to do with this?”
The serious lines of his face didn’t waver. “Pretty much.”
She touched his arm, felt the taut muscles beneath the cotton of his shirt that refused to give. “I wouldn’t have you here if I did.”
Her hand fell away as he gave a small nod. “Good.”
*
Despite her reply, Jordan had a feeling that he was still on the bubble where Lil was concerned.
Connery’s office didn’t open for another two hours, but he’d been kind enough to give Jordan his private number.
Jordan waited until Lil was busy with chores before making the call, standing just outside the barn, watching the sun move over the top of the trees as he waited for Connery to pick up.
The broker answered on a yawn and Jordan jumped straight to the narrative.
“Someone shot one of the McAllens’s cows last night.”
“What the hell—”
“I’m not calling because I think you’re involved. I’m calling to tell you that I don’t give a damn what happens on this ranch, I’m not selling. I’m going to build a house in the pasture and call it home.”
“Jordan—”
“If you have someone who needs to know that, tell them.”
“Now see—”
Jordan hung up. Message sent. He felt kind of bad if Connery was as innocent as he claimed, but the guy had tried to strong-arm him, so he didn’t feel that bad.
“You’re building a house in the pasture?”
Lil had come around the barn from the back while he’d been talking, startling him. He’d literally jumped when she spoke and he wondered if she could see the color rising from his collar.
“Figure of speech.”
“Good. Because I checked the lease and that’s against the rules.”
By the time he’d processed the fact that she’d made a dry joke, she was on her way to the haystack, moving with the efficiency of long practice.
She loaded a wheelbarrow with hay for the goats and wheeled it out the door.
Lil was doing a decent impression of business as usual, but it was just that.
An impression. If it wasn’t, then she was tougher than he was, because he was jumpy as hell.
*
Lil finally gave in and allowed Jordan to help with the morning chores. She wanted to go about her chores in the usual way but found it impossible with her body on high alert while half expecting a gunshot. Hell of a way to live, and whoever shot her cow probably intended her to feel this way.
The horses and goats were fed in the barn, and instead of releasing the cattle back onto pasture, she’d decided to feed them in the big corral where they’d been herded the night before to keep them from trampling the crime scene.
The cattle milled around the corral and called out their protests at not being turned loose while Lil warmed up the tractor, then Jordan manned the gate after she expertly retrieved a big square from the top of the haystack.
He followed the tractor into the corral, cut the strings then stood back while she loaded the feeders.
“They’re cramped in here,” she said after parking the tractor, “but I feel better keeping them contained until we know more.”
“Which we might.” Jordan pointed to where flashes of white showed in the aspens. A few seconds later the official sheriff’s office SUV drove into view.
Jordan set the little gray and white kitten he’d scooped up a few minutes before on the fence rails, smiling as the little guy sharpened his claws before strutting off past the milling cattle, tail high in the air. The little guy had an attitude that Jordan couldn’t help but admire.
Lil started toward the driveway and Jordan fell in step. Meg came out of the house, still pushing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. She joined them as the vehicle came to a stop.
The deputy introduced himself as Deputy Phil Wilson. He was going to check the area where the brand inspector thought the shot might have come from, and once back in the office, they were putting out bulletins asking for public input.
Jordan noted Lil and Meg exchanging glances.
Deputy Phil seemed like a decent officer, but after his inspection, he didn’t have much to offer in the way of reassurance. Jordan was aware that the guy was doing his job, working with what he had, but the lack of, well, anything, frustrated the hell out of him.
“So we just hope it doesn’t happen again.” He folded his arms over his chest as he spoke.