Caroline Burnes - Familiar Texas

Stephanie tore down the driveway, the SUV slewing in the gravel as she made a curve. She had to get to McElhanney’s before the cows were either killed or loaded into transport trucks. Those red Angus cows were Albert’s pride and joy. If anything bad happened to those cows, she was personally going to dig out Nate Peebles’s heart with a spoon.

Hank had ridden the western fence line while Rodney rode east. The wind had begun to pick up a little, and Hank was glad for the breeze. It was still hot, but at least the air was moving. He’d chosen Flicker, a red roan mare, from the six horses Rodney kept in the McCammon barn. She was a willing mount with an easy trot and tireless energy.

The land dipped slightly and he came off the rise and reined Flicker to a stop. He couldn’t believe it. The fence was still up, but obviously not for long. A bulldozer sat against the fence, perched to plow it down.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked himself as he rode up to the piece of heavy equipment. No one was around. It was as if the dozer had been driven to the ends of civilization and then abandoned. But he knew better. Someone would be back, and in a matter of minutes, that person could rip out what would take months to replace. He slipped the key to the dozer into his pocket and followed a heavy set of tire tracks that led out. Someone had brought the dozer, unloaded it and left.

Hank had no doubt the intended target for the dozer was the fence. There wasn’t anything else around to take down. He turned Flicker to the east and headed back to the ranch at a gallop. Someone was dismantling McCammon Ranch as fast as they could. Like it or not, Stephanie was in for a real fight.

When he pulled up to the barn, Flicker was tired and hot. After dismounting, he uncinched the mare’s girth and walked her to cool her.

“Hank, thank goodness you’re back!”

He turned to see Stephanie running across the barnyard toward him. He lifted the saddle off Flicker’s back with one hand and carried it into the tack room. “What’s wrong?” he asked, turning to face her.

“Uncle Albert’s cattle are at McElhanney’s feed lot. They’re going to be killed in the morning.”

Hank’s mouth was a tight line. “I don’t think so. Those cows were sold illegally, from what you tell me. Hop in my truck. We’ll ride over to McElhanney’s and see what they have to say.”

When Stephanie opened the truck door, the black cat leapt inside. Hank gave the cat a look. “Biscuit’s going to be very irritated when he smells cat in his truck.”

“Familiar has to go.” Stephanie sighed. “Sorry. That sounded very bossy. The cat needs to hear all of this.”

Hank got into the truck and started the engine. “Avis McElhanney has run his feed lot and slaughterhouse for the past twenty years. I wouldn’t sell a dead coyote to him, but he’s convenient. The way he treats animals is a shame. Did you find out who sold the cows?”

“I did.” She looked out the window, and he knew she was composing herself. He could only imagine what it would be like to come home for funerals and then find the place she expected to inherit being sold out from under her. “A man called Nate Peebles. Do you know him?”

“Some folks call him a lawyer. I think that’s too classy a label.”

Hank turned onto County Road 17 and he pressed the gas pedal to the floor. “Hang on. Tell me about the will Peebles claims to have.”

Stephanie’s jaw squared. “He says Uncle Albert and Aunt Em left everything to him. Every single thing.”

Hank was stunned by the idea of it. “That’s impossible. Albert meant to leave it all to you. He said so more than once. He said maybe you’d come home and run the ranch like you’d been taught.”

Stephanie felt the wind whipping through the window and was glad that it dried her tears before she could shed them. “Peebles says the will I have isn’t legal. There was a new will. One Uncle Albert signed just before he died. Peebles says there’s nothing I can do.”

“What about the cows?”

Her jaw had firmed and her eyes were hard and dry. “I have enough money to buy them.” She turned to him. “Could I put them at your place until I decide what I’m going to do? We could mix the herds and let them all stay by the creek.”

It was the most sensible solution. The same solution that Albert would have made, had he been alive. He cast a glance at Stephanie. With her perfectly shaded makeup, her expensive earrings and her manicured fingernails, she didn’t look like a rancher. But she thought like one. She had that same generous spirit and determination that had allowed cattle ranchers to stay in business for decades. He was developing a healthy respect for her, and Hank Dalton didn’t give his respect out lightly.

In the distance he could see the ramshackle barn where McElhanney kept his livestock standing in manure and filth until he was ready to either kill them or load them onto trucks to ship. Hank pulled beneath the shade of a dying pecan tree.

“Stephanie, this isn’t going to be pretty. Maybe you should stay here. I’ll be glad to negotiate to get your cows back.”

“Where are they?” She got out of the truck and slammed the door. “If he’s harmed them in any way…”

Hank accepted he wasn’t going to be able to protect Stephanie. She’d grown up on a ranch. She knew what was what. He motioned for her to follow him as he led the way to the office. Maybe they could set a price and he’d arrange to have the cattle shipped in the morning.

Stephanie strode into the office with Hank and the black cat one step behind her. Hank had to hide a smile as he watched her walk to the desk, put her hands on her hips and lean down into Avis McElhanney’s surprised face.

“You have my uncle’s herd of red Angus. I want them back. Now.”

McElhanney’s surprise turned to bluster. “I bought those cows fair and square. They’re mine. They’re due to be shipped out tomorrow.”

“How much did you pay for them? I’ll buy them back.”

Hank lounged against the door frame. It didn’t look like Stephanie needed any help. She was doing just fine.

“Twenty thousand dollars.” McElhanney’s grin was smug. “Take it or leave it.”

Hank straightened up, ready to do whatever was necessary.

“That’s outrageous,” Stephanie said.

McElhanney smiled. “You want the cows back, that’s what you’re going to pay for them.”

“Ten sounds more reasonable.” Stephanie reached into her back pocket and brought out a checkbook. “I’ll give you a check for ten right this minute.”

“Twenty, or I’ll call in my staff and butcher the whole lot tonight.” McElhanney’s smile widened. “Seems to me like I have the upper hand in this negotiation, little lady.”

Hank stepped past Stephanie, leaned across the desk and grabbed McElhanney by the shirt collar. He snatched him out of his chair so hard the man was across the desk and standing on his tiptoes in front of Hank. “I want to see the bill of sale you have for the cattle. Now.”

“Well, I don’t—I didn’t get a bill.”

“Stephanie, pick up the phone and call 555-1313. That’s my foreman, Junior. Tell him to bring the hands over here right now. We’ll ride your uncle’s horses home and get your cows. Mr. McElhanney has no bill of sale, then he has no legal right to the cows.”

“You can’t do this! I’ll have you in prison.”

“You can recoup your losses from Nate Peebles,” Hank said as he pushed McElhanney into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him. “You weren’t going to report the income on the cows, were you? A nice little tax dodge.” He nodded as he talked. “I may just give a call to the IRS and see if they’ve audited you lately.”