Kade: Armed and Dangerous by Cheyenne McCray Page B

anyone.” Kelsey
     snatched her hand away as if it had been scalded. An image of Kade’s kiss came to
     mind and a furious blush engulfed her to the soles of her feet.
    “Can you tell me about your ranch?” She tried to keep her voice steady as she steered
     the conversation to safer ground.
    Sadie quilted with deft strokes as she spoke. “Since Kade had no interest in going
     into the ranching business, a couple of years ago when we retired, Chuck sold off
     all the commercial cattle. We keep enough livestock for personal use, and raise most
     of our own vegetables and fruit.”
    Kelsey shifted her computer as she jotted down notes. “Do immigrants travel through
     your land?”
    “We’re fortunate that illegals don’t cross our property as often as they cross the
     Carters’, or the Grands’.” Sadie adjusted her glasses and continued stitching. “Then
     there’s the Mitchells’ ranch—why, Don estimates five hundred or more go through their
     back pasture every night. Like a highway. Kitty put bars on her back window ‘cause
     she’s worried for her granddaughter.”
    She sighed and shook her head. “That’s why Alex Grand bought himself a shotgun. Shoots
     up in the air—away from them, of course—just to scare them. I don’t agree with his
     tactics.”
    “By Carter are you referring to Trace Carter’s family?” Kelsey asked.
    Sadie nodded. “One and the same gal who arranged for you to stay here.”
    Kelsey smiled. “Trace is a terrific friend. I’m going to miss seeing her while I’m
     here.”
    “Trace took off for Texas with her husband, Jess,” Sadie said.
    “Yeah, that’s what she told me in her last e-mail.” Kelsey tapped her fingertips on
     her laptop. “She won’t be coming back until Christmas.”
    Sadie clipped a loose thread and started to rethread her needle. “Do you have any
     more questions about illegal immigration?”
    “A few.” Kelsey glanced at her notes again. “Do you come in contact with these people—the
     UDAs—often?”
    “The illegals we get, most of them just want water,” Sadie said. “Not too long ago,
     we discovered a hole cut into our fence beside a water trough. Rather than reaching
     over the fence to get water, they cut right through the wire.”
    Kelsey tapped her stylus. “I wonder why they do that.”
    Sadie twisted her lips in obvious disapproval of the practice, but for the woman it
     was still a mild expression that fit her personality.
    “Sweetwater Ranch has sustained the most damage that I know of.” She adjusted the
     quilting hoop in her lap. “Bull—that’s John Stevens, who owns Sweetwater—lost thousands
     of dollars in cattle when coyotes tore down his fence to run illegals through.”
    Kelsey frowned and stopped taking notes. “Coyotes?”
    “The smugglers,” Sadie said. “Also called los polleros , who are paid to sneak illegal immigrants into the U.S.”
    Kelsey’s thoughts whirled. “What do you do when illegals stop by?”
    Sadie glanced over the rims of her glasses. “Usually my husband gives the immigrants
     water while I call the authorities.”
    Kelsey looked at the dog at her feet and smiled at the large sad-eyed rottweiler.
     “I’m sure Roxie is a good watchdog.”
    “Nothing like a rottweiler to keep people at a distance.” Sadie smiled. “ ‘Course
     she’d as likely slobber all over your shoes than bite you, but we’ll keep that to
     ourselves.”
    Kelsey and Sadie talked for about an hour longer. Sadie explained how deep passions
     ran among people when it came to the subject of illegal immigrants, no matter which
     side of the issue the person might be on.
    “When does Kade get home?” Kelsey asked when they finished the interview. He’d been
     gone since at least six a.m. It was closing in on a full twelve hours from the time
     he’d left the house until this moment.
    “Anytime now.” Sadie glanced out the front window. “Looks like he’s here.”
    A low thrill invaded