Half a glare met him, then she began to turn her horse in the direction of home. He only had to slacken the reins for Lightning to catch up to Mabel. He didn’t want to admit how much fun he’d had rounding up her horse this morning.

“Why is this so important to you, anyway?”

“I told you. It’s my job.”

“What does this have to do with mail-order bride ads? You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

She shot him another one of her glares. Another reason not to be distracted by the sunlight playing tricks with her hair.

If he thought about it, she’d been acting squirrelly all day.

When they’d stopped by the newspaper office, she’d shuffled through letters, fidgeting around the office.

Only after he’d stepped outside to check on the horses had she finished up, rushing out with a skip in her step.

At least she’d emerged with another letter addressed to Isaac.

Curious thing, only having one response, but maybe the mail-order ad business was slower these days than Rebekah let on. He’d have to write back when he got done following her all over town. After that, well, maybe he’d finally have a chance to start on that display case.

Rebekah side-eyed him. “Mr. Sullivan has the list of men running for president of the Cattlemen’s Association.”

It didn’t answer why she’d been acting strange, but he’d take the bait. “And?”

“I saw it.”

“Isn’t it confidential or something?”

“Heath Quade is one of them. So is Mr. Billings, the injured rancher.” Her nose tilted upward in that triumphant tilt of hers.

“Quade? How can he run? He caused that dustup. He put Kaitlyn in danger.” Lightning nickered at Ed’s heated tone.

“Maybe not everyone remembers it like your family does.”

“You want a story? Come interview Kaitlyn. Then you’ll have the truth to print about that snake.” His last words were even more heated as he turned Lightning toward the homestead.

“Fine. I will.” Rebekah’s wide eyes made it evident he’d gotten his point across. At least enough for her to let him lead for a change.

Ed tightened his jaw as he rounded the drive that led to the McGraw homestead.

He hated making their business everyone else’s, but he had an obligation to let people know what Quade was like.

As far as Ed was concerned, the man should be in jail, not running for president of the Cattlemen’s Association.

And if he had to put off working on the display case for another day to prove it, so be it.

An eerie level of quiet met them as they entered the homestead.

Lightning balked and let out a nicker as if to ask what was going on.

There had to be a logical explanation, but the hairs on Ed’s arm rose all the same.

When he passed the well, a bucket sat on its side as if it had been dropped there.

“Where is everyone?” Rebekah’s voice had a softer tone than usual. “Tillie usually runs outside to greet me.”

At the sight of a slumped figure by the outhouse, Ed nudged Lightning forward.

Rebekah kept pace on Mabel. A surge of adrenaline raced through him as he got closer, and he worked his jaw.

Drew lay face down in the dirt. A groan rose from his motionless body as Ed quickly dismounted.

In two strides, he was there, his knees hitting the dirt.

“Drew.” He lifted his brother half into his arms, pulling him across his knees and rolling him over.

Drew’s face emerged clammy and pale. Another groan was his only reply, filling Ed with dread.

Drew’s eyes fluttered, but he appeared unconscious.

The stench of vomit hit Ed square in the face.

At movement close by, he shifted to see Rebekah waiting, fists clenched, not five feet away.

He locked eyes with her. “Run to the house. Fetch Kaitlyn.” He was worried. Why hadn’t Kaitlyn noticed?

She blinked as if the words hadn’t settled in her brain yet. Then she pivoted toward the house, dust rising and filtering over on the light breeze to cling to his sweat.

“C’mon, Drew, answer me.” He tapped the side of Drew’s cheek, desperate to get a response.

Rebekah knocked on the door of the main house, the sound filling the silent yard, but no one came. A clawing began in the pit of Ed’s stomach as he watched her let herself inside.

“You okay?” Still nothing but a groan for an answer. Ed shifted on his knees until he could lift Drew’s shoulders and inch his way down to loop his arms under his brother’s. Then he half stood and began dragging his brother toward Lightning.

He had to get him inside. Had to get him help.

The door of the house swung wide to show Rebekah alone. Where was everyone?

His breath came in gasps as he struggled to move his brother. His mind couldn’t grasp what had happened here.

Rebekah raced down the porch steps. Her face matched the white lace collar of her blouse. She didn’t slow her approach until she skidded to a halt next to him, her shoulder bumping his as she leaned down to help him drag Drew. Ragged breaths escaped as she fought to catch her breath.

“Where’s Kaitlyn?” Ed’s throat grew ragged and dry from more than the heat.

Rebekah shook her head as she gasped for air. “Everyone is in bad shape. Real bad shape.”

“Is anyone awake?” Ed shifted to a better position to lift Drew onto the horse’s back, and Rebekah sidestepped to give him room.

She nodded her head, opening her mouth to answer, when Drew’s hand reached up to grasp Ed’s arm, heat pulsing from his skin.

But his hand quickly fell away again. Ed watched his brother’s eyes flutter for a moment as if he were fighting to regain consciousness, then shifted his focus past Rebekah to the house. “Nick? The kids? They’re sick too?”

“All of them. What do we do?”