Shannon Vannatter - Counting On The Cowboy

Brock hurried back with a spool of wire and cutters. He threaded the wire to make a seam across the hole, with the rooster flogging the broom through the whole procedure. By the time the repair was finished, she was shaking.

“That should keep him.” He raised up, took the broom from her. “Hey.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “You okay?”

“I just don’t know who would want to hurt Landry and Chase. She can’t handle this.”

“We won’t tell her. But Chase has to know someone has it out for this place. Maybe he’ll know who we’re dealing with. Or it could be teenagers playing pranks. Whoever it is, we’ll get to the bottom of it. And it’ll be okay.” He squeezed her hand.

Gentle, calloused palm. Soothing, comforting. And suddenly, the effect the cowboy’s touch had on her was much more worrisome than dude ranch hijinks.

Chapter Four

“We can’t tell Landry about this.” Chase paced the office.

“That’s why we asked to talk to you alone.” If only Brock could take away his friend’s stress. But instead, he was adding to it.

“What about a competing dude ranch?” Devree picked at her nails. “Any owners capable of pulling something like this to steal business?”

“No. The other owners are stand up people. They might undercut our prices, but not purposely try to sabotage us. I can’t imagine anyone I know doing this.”

“Anyone got a bone to pick with you?” Brock pressed on. They had to figure this out. “An ex-employee maybe?”

Chase snapped his fingers. “There was a ranch hand. Nash Porter. I fired him shortly after Landry and I met. A real troublemaker.”

“Is he still around these parts?” He glanced at Devree.

Fiddling with her phone? Was she trying to play it calm, ease Chase’s worries?

“He’s in jail.” She caught his gaze.

“He is? How do you know?” Chase zeroed in on her.

“I just googled him. Assault and battery, stemming from a bar fight.”

“I’m not surprised.” Chase tunneled his fingers through his hair. “There’s no one else I can think of. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Not a word to Landry. I’ll have the locks changed for the cabin. Only y’all get keys. No one else.”

“I’ll change them out today.”

“And I’m sorry about the rooster, Devree. He won’t bother you again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should have seen her. She handled him like a pro.” Maybe she was tougher than she realized. And Brock was beginning to suspect she didn’t hate the country as much as she thought she did. Trouble was—she’d probably never realize it.

Besides, his mom had toughed it out once. Then returned to the city just like Devree would.

“Come to supper with us tomorrow night, Brock. Landry’s been wanting to have you join us.”

“I reckon I’m always up for good grub.”

“Six o’clock. But no talk of live traps or wire cutters or disgruntled saboteurs.”

“My lips are sealed. But does that mean I can’t tell about watching this one run from Rusty?”

Chase chuckled. “As long as you don’t mention how he got out.”

“I bet y’all wouldn’t laugh if his spurs were aimed in your direction.” Devree’s cheeks went pink, but her good-natured smile revealed only affection for her brother-in-law.

“You’re right.” Chase sobered. “He could have easily hurt you.”

“No harm done. Except for two years he shaved off my life expectancy.” She stood. “We better get to work. The hands are coming to move the old furniture out this morning.”

“I emptied the interloper’s live trap and reset both.” He followed her lead. “Maybe the mouse population has decreased during our absence.”

Devree closed her eyes for a second, then headed for the door. “Don’t worry, Chase. We’re on it. This wedding will go off without a hitch and the happy couple will have a pristine cabin ready for their honeymoon.”

“I still think we should report it to the police.” Brock adjusted his hat.

“No!” Chase cleared his throat. “It would get around town and Landry would hear of it for sure. Just keep an eye on things.”

“Will do.” Brock followed Devree out. The guy he’d chased into the woods worried him. But he wanted to keep an eye on Devree most of all. What if she’d gotten to the cabin first? Caught Ball-Cap in the act. He could have hurt her. Once they were outside, he grabbed her elbow.

She turned to face him with a puzzled frown. “What?”

“I’m going to the hardware store to get new locks. I don’t want you going to the cabin alone.”

“Trust me, I won’t. Too many mice for my comfort.” But her attempt to make light of the situation didn’t disguise what he saw deep in her eyes.

Fear.

* * *

The dude ranch dining room was hopping with guests as the drone of multiple conversations filled the room. Typical Friday night. Devree sat in a secluded corner with Landry and Chase, as Brock gave a detailed recount of her bout with Rusty.

“I wish I could have seen it.” Landry giggled. “I can’t believe you got him back in the pen all by yourself.”

Devree shrugged, as if her rooster wrangling was nothing. “You expected me to turn into a screaming ninny?”

“Well—yes.”

It was good to hear her sister laugh, even if it was at her expense.

But then Landry frowned. “I wonder how he got out.”

Devree’s gaze met Brock’s, then shifted to her brother-in-law.

“It doesn’t matter how.” Chase refolded his napkin. “It can’t happen again. What if he’d gone after a guest? Or a child?”

“I guess you’re right.” Landry groaned. “But he’s the prettiest rooster I’ve ever seen. I hate to part with him.”

The kitchen doors opened and Chase’s parents entered, headed their way with his chef dad carrying a covered roasting dish.

“What’s this?” Landry’s hand went to her chest. “I thought we were having buffet along with our guests.”

“We always try our new dishes out on family.” Chase’s dad, Elliot, took the lid off with a flourish to reveal a large Thanksgiving-worthy turkey.

“Brock, I’m so glad you’re back.” Chase’s mom, Janice, squeezed his shoulders. “We always thought the world of you. And your folks.”

“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” There were so many mixed emotions on his face Devree wasn’t sure she could keep up. A frown marred his brow, and she could tell his smile was forced. But his pale green eyes shone with happy memories. He seemed genuinely glad to be here, but jumpy as if he expected Becca to pounce on him at any minute.

“We’ll leave you to your meal. I’ll need honest opinions.” Elliot wiped his hands on his apron, headed back to the kitchen, Janice trailing him.

“What were we talking about?” Landry frowned.

“Rusty.” Chase picked up the large carving knife and fork, started to work on the bird. “I’ve already taken care of it. He won’t bother anyone else around here.”

Devree’s gaze dropped to the bird as Chase made a deep slice across the breast. On it’s back, all fours in the air. Why would Elliot try a new turkey recipe so far away from Thanksgiving? Or was it Rusty? Her eyes widened.

As Chase doled out slabs of meat, her appetite fled.

“Give me your plate, Devree.” Chase held a large slice of meat between the carving set.

Mute, she shook her head.

“Are you okay? You look rather pale.” Landry touched her hand.

“I can’t eat him.” Her vision clouded. He may have been mean, but she hadn’t wanted him to die.

“Who?”

“I can’t eat a rooster I knew by name.”

Chase guffawed. “I can assure you, this isn’t Rusty. It’s turkey.”