Lori Connelly - The Lone Cowboy of River Bend

“You don’t need to repeat the whole ridiculous story.”

“It’s what I heard Nancy say to another young lady after you stomped off.”

Nate shook his head. “So a twisted version of old gossip is being spread further. Great.”

“That’s the nature of gossip, twisting the truth.”

“So you still believe this is harmless tongue-wagging?”

“Actually, I’m not sure.” All hint of the good-humored teasing dropped from Matt’s tone. “The rumor about Ben is a deliberate, directed act. Someone wants to pin the rustling on him. The sudden attention to, and spreading of, your heartbroken recluse story has a similar feel but-”

“Someone is making me into a laughing stock.”

“If so, then why? You’re one man living in a remote area of a sparsely populated county.”

“Are you trying to say I’m not important?”

“In the grand scheme of things, no.”

“But?”

“I don’t like coincidences. Someone made certain to spread your story far and wide around the same time as the rumor about Ben cropped up. Perhaps, as a distraction.”

“From what?”

“Good question.”

“One you didn’t answer,” Nate muttered, stepping off the sidewalk onto the muddy road. “I need to get my gun.”

Only lawmen had been allowed to carry firearms in Silver Falls City today. Nate couldn’t have cared less whether he carried a weapon in town or not, but out on the range a gun was necessary for protection. Matt changed direction with him and they headed for a small stand, where a couple of the marshal’s men guarded the confiscated guns. The inconvenience of having to reclaim his pistol deepened his impatience and, noticing a line forming, he hastened his pace. He couldn’t wait to shake off the dust of this place and get clear of all these people.

“Because I don’t know. My first assumption may be correct.”

“Miss Collier?”

“Hell hath no fury like-”

Nate looked pointedly at his friend. “I did not scorn that woman.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your intention.”

“I turned down a single invitation.”

“Publicly.”

“She cornered me outside after church.”

“Where half the town heard you say no.”

“I was polite.”

“I know.”

“And for that you think she…” Nate shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s clever, making your refusal all about your broken heart instead of being personal.”

“Seems like a great deal of trouble to go to over one man’s no thank you.”

“Miss Collier strikes me as someone who does not like being told no and if someone shared the old gossip about you with her, well, it’s not that big of a leap.”

“I’d think others would see her purpose, then.”

“Not if what she said fit the narrative.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t socialize because Faith broke your heart.”

“Oh for the love of… That isn’t it.”

“She did hurt you.”

“So?”

“Well, now it seems only the right woman can heal you,” Matt responded as they closed in on the men gathered in front of the stand.

“What? I don’t need-” He broke off when more men approached from behind. Nate rushed forward, securing a place in line, then continued when his friend caught up with him. “We’ll finish this later, on the road.”

Matt raised one eyebrow at Nate’s cross tone. “I look forward to it. I need a word with Gus before we go.” He nodded to the left. “I see him over near the saloon. Come join us when you’re done.”

Troubled thoughts rolled through his mind as Nate watched the other man amble away. Coincidences disturbed him as much as they did Matt. How was the resurrection of old gossip connected to the rustling? The answer remained as elusive as the identity of the rustlers. Despite months of hard work, there was still no hard evidence, just suspects and suspicion.

Ranchers throughout the county were growing understandably furious. Yesterday a number of cattle had gone missing from the Crooked Rim Ranch, a few hours’ ride from Silver Falls City. He’d met Matt there early this morning. The owner was certain he knew who was responsible. Frank Meyers had accused his friend of not doing his job because he refused to arrest Ben right then.

Nate reached up and rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. If undisputable proof didn’t turn up soon, he feared his cousin would take the fall. Distracted, he was slow to step forward when the person in front of him moved and a familiar, smug, voice attacked.

“What put a sour expression on your face, Rolfe? Was the sight of those lowlifes’ necks getting stretched too much for a man like you?”

Great. Can this day get any worse?

The man who had married Faith, the woman he’d once thought to spend his life with, stood behind him. What she’d seen in the short, balding man with a nasty attitude was beyond Nate. Randy Haze had always taken pleasure in cutting people down.

“Well, was it?”

His expression carefully blank, Nate didn’t react. To him needless conflict was a waste of time and energy. He stepped up and handed his token to one of the men returning weapons, hoping Haze would lose interest if ignored. To speed up the process, he pointed to the revolver in his holster, hanging on a peg to the left. When the man reached up to match the tag on his gun belt to his token, Randy persisted.

“Are you deaf, Rolfe?”

“No.” Nate kept his response brief and bland as he took his weapon from the deputy.

“Well then?”

When he stepped off to the side, allowing the line to move forward, Nate felt the other man follow him without pausing to collect his own firearm. He adjusted the belt around his hips before looking over, meeting the disagreeable man’s gaze. For a moment he considered responding with a few choice words, then decided Haze wasn’t worth his time. Without a word, he strode off to rejoin Matt.

“I guess what they say is true.”

Nate kept walking, heading for the men standing near the corner of The Trail’s End Saloon.

“You hide away because you’re a lily-livered coward.”

His jaw clenched, but he allowed the taunt to go unanswered, unwilling to show how the slur bothered him. The ugly charge had joined the gossip regarding him in recent weeks. His suspicion about the man’s involvement deepened.

“Trouble?” Matt asked when Nate joined him and Marshal Evans.

“Just Randy being Randy.”

The marshal studied Nate briefly then looked beyond him. “Personal issue?”

“Likely.” Nate offered a measured response. He was slow to warm to people and had only met Gus on a handful of occasions.

Matt, on the other hand, knew the marshal well and was more forthcoming. “Randy Haze likes to stir things up. I suspect he’s one of the people behind the rumors we talked about.”

“Like the one saying you need to be kicked out of office?” Gus turned, facing Nate squarely. “Was he bad-mouthing the sheriff?”

“No.”

“What was his beef?”

“Just trying to rile me.”

“A troublemaker?”

“Doubt he’ll cause you any headaches.” Matt drew the other lawman’s attention. “He probably came for the hanging and Nate had the bad luck to run into him.”

“That’s over.” Tone crisp, Gus straightened his hat. “I’ll have a word with Haze, get him headed out of my town.” He nodded to Matt. “Thanks for the update. I’ll see you next week.” Then he directed another nod at Nate. “Rolfe.”

“Anything new?” Matt asked, as they watched Gus personally speed the process of returning Randy’s weapon then engage the man in conversation.