Dinah joined them, and Sarah brought in coffee. “I’m taking these thefts personally,” Dinah declared, setting down her folder to accept a steaming mug. “So far every theft has been in my jurisdiction.”
“There must be something we’ve missed,” Duke muttered, also claiming a mug. “I know Colt thought taillights at the first robbery here were a Dodge pickup. But half the trucks around are Rams.” Duke sat at the desk with his coffee and opened Dinah’s file. He sifted through pages of her notes. “They rob in our county, but unload their goods halfway across the state. I take it you reached all the neighbors along Thunder Road?”
“All but Rob Parker,” Dinah said. “According to his wife, he left before sunup to deliver hay to his leased acreage across town. She’ll have him call when he returns.”
Duke turned to a clean sheet of paper. “Meanwhile, let’s take an inventory.”
They worked until noon, rechecking everything in the office, tack room, feed storage and barns, relying on Sarah, Ace and Josh Adams to say what all was missing. Winding down, Sarah and Leah insisted they break for lunch. They all trudged into the big ranch kitchen where the women assembled sliced meat, cheese, bread and tossed a fresh salad while Duke, Ace, Josh and another of the hired hands went back outside to walk every inch of ground from behind the barn where the thieves broke in, to the highway and along the ditches to see if they’d overlooked any small thing.
They hadn’t, and it was a glum crew who ate in silence, except for Leah’s kids, who chased around with Zorro, giggling and having a good time.
Pushing back, Duke stacked his plate with others who’d finished eating. Standing, he said, “Ace, if you have photos of Midnight, I’ll make flyers to blanket the area and post a missing-horse notice on the ranch website.”
Leah left the children with Sarah and excused herself to go pay some bills. Duke’s dad and Flynn drifted away. Josh had a stake in the ranch, but rarely ventured an opinion unless directly solicited. Duke wished he related to his dad better, but the truth was his twin and their dad had the better rapport.
Duke gathered the photos and prepared to leave just as Rob Parker phoned Dinah. Being up almost eleven hours straight, plus eating, had made Duke so rummy he missed most of Dinah’s conversation with the neighbor.
When she clicked off, she beckoned him over. “I had to pull this bit of information out of Rob. He noticed a black horse standing in a field with a donkey and a sorrel mare with a blaze face at Barrington Rescue Ranch. The sun was in his eyes, so he couldn’t tell the black’s gender. It could be Midnight.”
“Angie Barrington wouldn’t steal Midnight,” Sarah declared. “I volunteer a couple of mornings a week at her shelter. Angie is as sweet as can be. Duke, you’ve seen her and her son at our Family Friendship Church. She’s passionate about saving injured animals, but she’d never steal one.”
Ace spoke up. “I treat some of her rescue animals, and I agree with Mom about Angie’s integrity.”
Dinah twisted her hair off her neck. “It’s well-known Midnight was difficult to settle when you first got him, Ace. Integrity or not, I’ve heard Angie thinks all rodeo animals are mistreated. Duke, I need to head back to the office. You go to Barrington’s and have a look around. If you need a warrant for access, call and I’ll bring one out.”
Duke hesitated. He did often accompany his aunt to church, so he’d seen Angie there and in town. He mostly ran into the petite blonde at the feed or tack stores, and he found her attractive—really attractive. But he’d die before he would admit that to any of his family. He had heard from guys on the rodeo circuit about Angie’s aversion to rodeo riders. Rumor suggested a big-name Texas bronc champion wanted to marry her, but she’d dumped him because he used spurs when he rode. Locals laughed, insisting the joke was on her when she discovered she was pregnant and the guy refused to marry her. Duke didn’t know how much of the gossip was true. Crazy stories made their way around the circuit, and were often embellished and retold until no one knew the real truth.
Still, his palms grew sweaty at the notion of waltzing up to knock on Angie Barrington’s door. “I didn’t get much sleep, Dinah. Can’t you as easily swing past Angie’s ranch?”
“I could, but Cliff West, who is printing T-shirts for our sponsorship of the rodeo’s Wild Pony Race, called to say he has one shirt ready for me to approve. He closes early today, so I need to get going and stop there on my way to the office.”
Duke slowly released a pent-up breath. “Oh, fine. I’ll go by Barrington’s after I hunt up Aunt Sarah and give her some money from the event I won in Sheridan.”
“Hey, hey, you won again? Good going,” Ace said, slapping Duke’s back. “That ought to leave you sitting in great contention for the finals.”
Duke grinned. “Yep. Beau thinks I should hit the next couple of rodeos with him, but he can be such a mother hen, always pushing me to pile up more points.”
Ace and Duke fell to discussing bull riding, and Dinah took off. Spotting his aunt emerging from Leah and Colt’s mobile home, Duke flagged her down.
She accepted his money on behalf of the ranch, but looked glum all the same. “With Midnight gone, staying afloat until we get some foals will be difficult. I don’t have to tell you we paid too much for him, and counted on recouping enough from his foals to pay his loan and then some.”
“We’ll find Midnight, Aunt Sarah. A horse isn’t hockable like saddles or small ranch implements.”
“You’re right. It’s...just that you’re all such good kids, you deserve pieces of this ranch one day. I can’t believe John wasn’t a better steward,” she said, bringing up her husband, who everyone in the valley had thought was an astute rancher, but who’d turned out not to be.
“Please don’t worry,” Duke said. “Well, I’d better go see about the black horse Rob Parker saw at the Barrington ranch.”
“If it is Midnight, he broke out and somehow got into Angie’s field, Duke, so give her a chance to explain.”
“I will.” He hugged her briefly, whistled for Zorro, who’d found a spot to lie in the shade, loaded him and left. Duke hadn’t the faintest idea how to broach the subject of the horse theft with Angie. He had never been at ease around women he admired. Angie Barrington was no exception.
Scant minutes later, he stared into a fiery sun sinking between mountains to the west as he drove down Angie’s lane. He kept an eye out for a black horse, but didn’t see any animals until he neared her modest ranch house, where chickens scattered at the sound of his truck. Like many older ranch homes, Angie’s lane ended at her back door. As a rule visitors went first into the kitchen, the gathering place for rural folks.
Crawling out of his cab, Duke made his way to the house. The door was propped open. He could see Angie working in her kitchen through the screen. He patted Zorro’s head, took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the house siding.
* * *
ANGIE MADE AND SOLD horse treats for extra cash. She had a batch ready to come out of the oven and another prepared to go in when she heard a knock. Assuming it was someone dropping off a stray animal, she called, “The screen isn’t locked, come on in.” The hinges squeaked, and Angie glanced up from scooping hot cookies off a large cookie sheet. For a second she was dumbstruck at seeing Dylan Adams poke his ruggedly handsome face into her house. The angle of his cowboy hat hid his eyes, but Angie knew they were a velvety-brown.
“Ma’am,” he mumbled, causing all manner of irrational thoughts to run through Angie’s addled brain as he swept off his black cowboy hat and gave directions to a big dog to stay outside. Then the man himself stepped inside, seeming to shrink her already small kitchen with his broad shoulders and six-foot