before Cade saw her blinking back tears. "He's right," Cade tried to make some kind of meek amends.
"Just go away. I'm tired."
Cade started to say something else--not really sure how to get himself out of this mess--but Terrell shook his head. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to leave her alone for now and just go deal with the situation. He headed for the doorway. "I'll talk to you later."
Chapter Four
Cade had never been so damn cold in his life, not even when he'd spent a day skiing. He tugged the lapels of his borrowed sheep-skin lined jacket higher and tried not to let anyone see him shaking against the bitter coldness. He, Scott, Alan, and a half dozen other men had been here on this frozen tundra of a field for three long hours. Well, frozen tundra covered with a thick layer of snow. And the snow had started falling again almost the second they climbed out of Scott's pickup truck. If he never spent another winter day like this...
From the corner of his eye he saw Alan frowning before ending a phone call. He'd been talking to the local sheriff and Cade could tell whatever the man had learned wasn't good. He shook off his frustration with the weather and asked, "What did he have to say?"
Alan tucked his cell phone in his coat pocket. "The Sheriff said the highway patrol caught up with the cattle truck near the Kansas/Missouri border. Truck had two blown tires." He looked at Scott, then finally at Cade. "The men aren't talking, naturally."
"Never do," Scott grumbled and heaved a gut-deep sigh.
"What about the cattle? Did they still have them?" Cade asked.
He wanted the cattle back for his sake, of course, but more for Shawna's sake. He knew she felt personally responsible. He understood that, since she was the foreman. But he didn't like it. He didn't want her worrying herself sick all over again. From what he knew about cattle rustling--what Scott had told him during their drive here, there wasn't anything she or any of the men could have done. Cattle rustling was big business, dangerous business. He'd heard about how more than one rancher or ranch hand had gotten killed trying to stop some rustlers. The cattle he'd lost might be worth some major bucks, but they definitely weren't worth the loss of any of these men.
"Yeah, they had them. Twenty head, all sporting the RHR brand. But they're evidence at the moment," Alan explained with a frown. He muttered a curse hot enough to almost take the chill out of the air. "We'll be lucky to get them back in a month or two. They'll be underweight, too, when we get them." He cursed again. "Damn bad business this cattle rustling."
Cade pulled his own cell phone out, blinking past the fat snowflakes. "Burdett, you find out where the cattle are being held and send a couple men to haul them back," he told Alan. He glanced at both uncertain-looking men. "I don't pay a staff of high-priced attorneys for nothing. I'll make a call." His lawyers would deal with the cattle thieves.
"Right. A call." Scott shot him a doubting look and focused on the other man again.
Unconcerned with the cowboy's lack of faith in him--they didn't know him, after all--Cade walked a few feet away. Before making the call, he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to make a plan for dealing with this mess. He was familiar with untangling messes. He'd done it often enough when he bought a business with great potential that was currently being run into the ground. His attorneys were experts at solving problems, too.
Even as he tried to focus on what he needed to do, he overheard Scott and Alan talking in lowered tones. Using a fitting cliche, they grumbled about how everything had clearly gone to hell in a hand basket now. When they mentioned Shawna, he paid particular attention. In spite of all the problems they faced, they were still worried about finding a way to help her. It was, apparently, killing all of the ranch hands that they hadn't been able to raise the money to buy the ranch for her.
"Just go away. I'm tired."
Cade started to say something else--not really sure how to get himself out of this mess--but Terrell shook his head. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to leave her alone for now and just go deal with the situation. He headed for the doorway. "I'll talk to you later."
Chapter Four
Cade had never been so damn cold in his life, not even when he'd spent a day skiing. He tugged the lapels of his borrowed sheep-skin lined jacket higher and tried not to let anyone see him shaking against the bitter coldness. He, Scott, Alan, and a half dozen other men had been here on this frozen tundra of a field for three long hours. Well, frozen tundra covered with a thick layer of snow. And the snow had started falling again almost the second they climbed out of Scott's pickup truck. If he never spent another winter day like this...
From the corner of his eye he saw Alan frowning before ending a phone call. He'd been talking to the local sheriff and Cade could tell whatever the man had learned wasn't good. He shook off his frustration with the weather and asked, "What did he have to say?"
Alan tucked his cell phone in his coat pocket. "The Sheriff said the highway patrol caught up with the cattle truck near the Kansas/Missouri border. Truck had two blown tires." He looked at Scott, then finally at Cade. "The men aren't talking, naturally."
"Never do," Scott grumbled and heaved a gut-deep sigh.
"What about the cattle? Did they still have them?" Cade asked.
He wanted the cattle back for his sake, of course, but more for Shawna's sake. He knew she felt personally responsible. He understood that, since she was the foreman. But he didn't like it. He didn't want her worrying herself sick all over again. From what he knew about cattle rustling--what Scott had told him during their drive here, there wasn't anything she or any of the men could have done. Cattle rustling was big business, dangerous business. He'd heard about how more than one rancher or ranch hand had gotten killed trying to stop some rustlers. The cattle he'd lost might be worth some major bucks, but they definitely weren't worth the loss of any of these men.
"Yeah, they had them. Twenty head, all sporting the RHR brand. But they're evidence at the moment," Alan explained with a frown. He muttered a curse hot enough to almost take the chill out of the air. "We'll be lucky to get them back in a month or two. They'll be underweight, too, when we get them." He cursed again. "Damn bad business this cattle rustling."
Cade pulled his own cell phone out, blinking past the fat snowflakes. "Burdett, you find out where the cattle are being held and send a couple men to haul them back," he told Alan. He glanced at both uncertain-looking men. "I don't pay a staff of high-priced attorneys for nothing. I'll make a call." His lawyers would deal with the cattle thieves.
"Right. A call." Scott shot him a doubting look and focused on the other man again.
Unconcerned with the cowboy's lack of faith in him--they didn't know him, after all--Cade walked a few feet away. Before making the call, he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to make a plan for dealing with this mess. He was familiar with untangling messes. He'd done it often enough when he bought a business with great potential that was currently being run into the ground. His attorneys were experts at solving problems, too.
Even as he tried to focus on what he needed to do, he overheard Scott and Alan talking in lowered tones. Using a fitting cliche, they grumbled about how everything had clearly gone to hell in a hand basket now. When they mentioned Shawna, he paid particular attention. In spite of all the problems they faced, they were still worried about finding a way to help her. It was, apparently, killing all of the ranch hands that they hadn't been able to raise the money to buy the ranch for her.
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