Page 26 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes (Montana Mail-Order Brides #7)

He chuckled at the idea. There were plenty of places you could ride for more’n a day and not see any sign of another soul. Yeah, the smell of bacon might be from someone passing through, but his gut said he needed to make sure it was from travelers and not scoundrels.

Figuring he’d find out more by taking an indirect route to the herd, he swung to the north and followed a ridge that gave him a good view of the land around him, apart from places where groves of trees could hide men and horses.

He studied each grove carefully for any sign of smoke or anything to suggest a man camped under the branches.

Saw nothing apart from a moose and two calves trotting from one patch of trees to another.

He shifted west, climbed for a bit and stopped, leaning over the saddle horn to study the view.

After a few minutes, and seeing nothing to concern him, he rode south and west until he saw the herd of cows, scattered across the grass and into the trees.

One of the boys sat on his horse on top of a rise.

Flint didn’t see the other but guessed he was nearby.

With a click of his tongue, he urged his horse toward the trees where the boys had set up camp.

They’d done good at it too. Their supplies were secured high in a tree so as not to become breakfast for a wild animal.

A good supply of firewood. The firepit was set in a dirt hole they’d dug.

No danger of their fire getting away from them.

Flint and Jayce had provided them with strong crates to hold their cooking supplies.

Yup. They’d done a good job of taking care of themselves as well as the herd.

He rode to their camp and dismounted.

One of the boys called, “Hello,” the sound almost lost in the distance.

The call might have been meant for him or the other boy. Two horses galloped toward him. The boys dropped to the ground as soon as they reached the camp. They greeted him but their gazes were on the lunch sack.

“How’s the leg, Joe?” He’d been riding for the past week.

Joe rubbed his thigh. “Doing good.”

The three of them hunkered down. Flint said grace then opened the sack and shared the food.

“How’s the little girl doing?” Jeff always asked about those at the ranch.

Flint guessed he was lonely. Probably enjoyed Jayce and Flint’s visits though now that Joe was better, the visits would be less often.

“Susie and Kitty are best of friends. If Susie ain’t carryin’ the cat, the cat is followin’ her. They even sleep together.”

“Ah. That’s nice.” He and Joe exchanged a look suggesting they had something to discuss. “Sure could use us a dog out here.”

“Dogs is all right if they’s trained,” he allowed. “But I don’t know anybody with dogs to give away. Shannons have an older dog. He mostly lies in the sunshine outside the barn door.”

“You’d let us know if you heard of one?” Joe might have tried to sound as if it only mattered a tiny bit, but Flint heard the longing in his voice.

“I surely will.” He’d bring the boys a dog tomorrow if he could.

They ate the sandwiches and drank from the water the boys brought from the nearby stream.

Flint couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling he had. He gave a slow study of his surroundings but saw nothing to concern him. But somehow, he felt like he was missing something.

“You boys seen anything out of the ordinary?” He hoped he sounded like he was only making conversation. Yeah, he wanted them to be alert. But not scared of every shadow.

Joe rubbed at the toe of his boot. “Saw a rider a couple of times. Off in the distance. Disappeared when I rode in that direction. Didn’t think nothing of it at first, but when I saw it twice, I wondered.

Course, I had no way of knowing if it was the same rider or someone else.

Jeff, here saw someone yesterday near the same place.

Guess that’s what’s unusual. Always about the same place. ”

The skin on the back of Flint’s neck tingled. More’n unusual he figured. “Any cows missin’?”

“Can’t really tell.” Jeff took a cookie. “Can’t get a proper count on them but not so many a body would notice.”

The tingling spread down Flint’s arms. “I think I’ll have a look around. You fellas keep a close watch on the herd.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint clung to the shadow of the trees, riding in a circular route that took him far from where the boys had seen the riders.

It might be nothing, but he meant to make sure.

Nor did he mean to ride headfirst into trouble.

He pulled his rifle from the scabbard and rested it across his knees.

For half an hour, he climbed in a direction angling away from where the boys had seen the riders.

He reached rocky cliffs that made riding difficult and swung to the left, staying high, allowing him to hopefully stay out of sight.

He had a good view of the land below him and reined in to study it.

Nothing stirred but the leaves on the trees. Still, he didn’t move.

His horse pricked up his ears. Then Flint heard it. Mooing. Their cows were a ways down the valley. Of course, some might have wandered. Or were from another herd. But he meant to find out.

He guided the horse between boulders and over rocky ground.

Came to a rock wall and had to turn aside and head down.

The view opened up. Below him was a green valley with at least a dozen cows grazing.

These were his cows. He recognized the one with the black circle on her back.

If’n he had to guess, he’d say those rustlers were back.

The tingling in his neck gave way to tightness.

He scanned the area carefully. Didn’t see anyone watching the animals. Didn’t mean there wasn’t a guard. Or maybe they were watching his herd waiting for a cow to wander away on her own so they could bring it here without anyone seeing them.

Flint remained motionless, watching and thinking. One thing he didn’t have to think about: these men weren’t getting away with this. After a bit, he made his way down the hill, carefully and as quietly as possible.

A rock rolled away from his horse’s hooves, thundering down the hillside.

His hand on the rifle, ready to use it, Flint stopped and waited to see if the noise alerted anyone. Several seconds passed before he resumed the descent. Before him lay a wide swath of pastureland. He clung to the shadows watching.

Again, his horse pricked up his ears. And then two riders herded in three cows.

Flint breathed out a silent snort. One at a time wasn’t good ‘nough for em. Letting the sound of moving cows cover his movements, Flint rode closer. He lifted his rifle and waited for the cows to trot through the narrow opening. Then the click of him cocking the gun reached one of the men.

“Didcha hear that?” The fella shifted about in his saddle looking from side to side.

“Let me see yer hands.” Flint barked out the words.

The nearest one lifted his hands in front of him. The other reached for a pistol. Flint squeezed the trigger but not in time to stop the scoundrel from getting off a shot.