Page 1 of Deacon (Men of Clifton, Montana #52)

As Deacon “Deke” Anderson finally eased his dirt-streaked pickup into a crooked driveway before the low-slung ranch-style house, he let out a long, weary sigh.

The late afternoon sun beat down mercilessly through the windshield, making the paint on the hood ripple in the heat haze.

What should have been a smooth five-hour drive from Clifton to Maple Ridge, Montana, had stretched into nearly six hours.

An overturned semi and miles of stalled traffic turning the highway into a parking lot.

His boss, Dave Merkle, had sprung this assignment on him at the last minute.

He’d arrived under-prepared but knew better than to quibble when the head of your department says “go.”

He’d been surprised when Dave mentioned Maple Ridge, Montana, considering Deke had never forgotten where Ava said she was from.

Almost three years have passed and he still couldn’t forget that night with her, but the odds of finding her were slim to none and she could, in all likelihood be married by now.

Deke killed the engine and listened to the sudden, echoing quiet of the dusty yard.

He climbed out, the pounding sun already turning his shirt damp with sweat.

Wiping his palm on his jeans, he closed the truck door and strode across the parched gravel toward the porch. He knocked on the door and waited.

The door swung open and a tall, lean, silver-haired man, tanned deep as leather, stared back at him from the threshold, folding his arms, he raised his eyebrow.

“Is there something I can help you with, son?” the man asked, voice low but firm.

Deke straightened. “Yes, sir. I’m Agent Deacon Anderson with the Montana Department of Livestock. I’m looking for Mr. Hollister. We received a report of missing cattle.” He showed the man his badge.

The older man’s eyes softened, and he stepped aside. “That’s me, Rudy Hollister. Come on in and get out of this heat.”

Deke nodded gratefully, removing his cowboy hat before wiping his boots on the mat. He stepped into a simple kitchen where sunlight streamed through checkered curtains, illuminating a wooden table scattered with papers and a bowl containing apples.

“You can hang your hat on that peg,” Rudy said, nodding to the hooks by the doorway.

Deke looped his hat onto the nearest one. “Thank you, sir.” He trailed Rudy into the living room, where faded floral upholstery and the gentle ticking of a wall clock gave the space a lived-in comfort.

“Something to drink?” Rudy asked.

“I wouldn’t turn down a glass of cold water,” Deke replied.

“Have a seat,” Rudy said, disappearing around a corner. The floorboards creaked under Deke’s boots as he settled onto a cushioned chair. A few minutes later, Rudy returned with a tall glass, condensation beading on its surface. He handed it over with a courteous nod.

“Here you go, Agent Anderson,” he said.

Deke took a grateful sip, the cool water sliding down his throat. “Thanks, Mr. Hollister”

“Please, call me Rudy.” Rudy sat in another chair, but Deke noticed him frowning at him. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

“Not that I know of. This is my first time in Maple Ridge, and please call me, Deke,” he said, offering his business card. “You can reach me at any of those numbers. Feel free to call anytime.” He folded his hands around the glass. “When did you first notice the cattle were missing?”

Rudy leaned back, gaze drifting to a framed photograph of a cluster of cattle grazing beneath a cloud-streaked sky. “One of the ranch hands did and called my son. He manages the place now. He called last night; said a dozen head were gone. I’m glad Autumn Falls sent someone out so quickly.”

Deke smiled. “I’m actually from the Clifton office. Autumn Falls theft unit is swamped, so they asked for our help.”

Rudy nodded with understanding. “I heard there’s been a rash of rustling lately. Desperate times, I suppose, but taking a man’s livelihood… that’s low.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Deke said. “Even if someone’s strapped for cash, they’re stealing the very source of income ranchers depend on.”

“The last time I dealt with a theft was over ten years ago,” Rudy admitted. “We keep watch over the herd, but you can’t guard every acre every hour.”

“No excuse for it though,” Deke agreed, setting his glass on a side table, the sound of ice clinking. “Tell me how it was discovered they were gone.”

Rudy shook his head. “One of our hands spotted the empty pen and alerted Tyler. That’s my boy.” He rose. “I’d show you but I’m watching my granddaughter. She’s taking a nap but I don’t want to leave the house in case she wakes up. My son can show you though.”

Deke nodded as he stood and watched the dust motes floating in the beam of sunshine through the window. “If you’ll tell me where to find him, I’ll head there. Don’t need you roasting out there anyway.”

Rudy chuckled, stepping back toward the kitchen. “When I was stacking hay bales in this kind of heat, I thought I’d melt. Lucky, I retired from that.”

Deke laughed. “I’ve broken my back stacking more bales than I can count.”

“Same here, son,” Rudy said. “Tyler’s probably in the barn.”

“Alright.” Deke followed him back into the kitchen, where he reclaimed his hat from the peg. “I’m sure I’ll find him. Rudy, thanks for your time. Oh, do the ear tags have radio frequency identification?”

“Yes, they are RFID, and I have them all recorded.”

“Could you possibly print me out a list?”

“Sure. Give me a few minutes.” Rudy walked from the room as Deke waited for him. When he returned, he handed Deke the list.

“You’ve got my number,” Deke said, reaching out to clasp Rudy’s hand.

“You be careful now.”

Deke nodded, touched his hat, stepped onto the porch, and closed the door gently behind him. He put his sunglasses on. The heat hit him like a wave. He jogged down the steps, boots crunching over sunbaked dirt, and crossed the yard toward the weathered red barn. Dust spiraled in his wake.

Inside, the barn was cool and dim, the scent of hay and livestock pungent in the air. He paused in the doorway, removed his sunglasses, then moved down the wide aisle.

“Need something?” came a voice from the shadows.

Deke looked to see a broad-shouldered man wiping sweat from his brow, pulling off worn leather gloves and tucking them into his back pocket.

“I’m looking for Tyler Hollister,” Deke said, stepping forward.

“I’m Tyler. What can I do for you?”

“Agent Deacon Anderson, with MDOL,” Deke replied, shaking hands. “But call me Deke. Could you show me where the cattle were taken from?”

“Sure thing,” Tyler said. He glanced down the barn aisle. “Let me call one of the guys to cover my spot. I’ll meet you at your truck.”

“Works for me,” Deke said, slipping back outside and put his sunglasses back on. The sky above shimmered in the heat, waves rising off the pasture grasses. He retraced his steps to his truck, climbed in, started it, and cranked up the air conditioning.

He watched as Tyler strode from the barn, opened the passenger door, and slid onto the seat.

“Damn, that cool air feels good,” Tyler said as he put his own sunglasses on. “You’d think with September just a couple of weeks away, it would be cooling down.”

“It’s a scorcher today, but you know it could change in no time.” Deke looked at him. “Where to?”

As they made their way to where the cattle were taken, Deke glanced at him.

“Does your father have problems with any local ranchers?”

“Chet Winchester and my dad have never gotten along, but I can’t see him doing this.”

“You’d be surprised who would do what.”

“I can understand that.”

“What was the problem between them?”

“Chet blamed my dad for his loss in sales. It wasn’t anything he did. Winchester started buying cheaper cattle and no one wanted the meat. My dad only raises the best cattle.”

“I see. Alright. I’ll check into them. Anyone else?”

“Not that I can think of right now.”

Deke handed him one of his business cards. “Please let me know if someone else comes to mind.”

“I will.”

Deke nodded as they drove to the broken fence line.

“Are you married, Agent Anderson?”

“No.”

“Well, I guess that’s good since you likely travel a good bit.”

“I do, though not as much as I used to. I see you’re married.” He nodded at the wedding band on Tyler’s left hand.

“Yes. I’ve been married fifteen years to the love of my life. We have three kids. Two boys and a girl. Thirteen, Ten, and five.”

“A teenager?” Deke shook his head.

Tyler laughed. “Yeah. I know I wasn’t like that when I was that age.”

Deke chuckled. “No, I’m sure you were an angel.”

“Weren’t you?” Tyler laughed.

“Probably about as much as you.”

“Then you were a problem.”

“My dad raised three sons on his own, so yeah, we were a problem at times.” Deke grinned as he pulled the truck to a stop where Tyler pointed the fence out to him.