Page 100 of Wrangled
“This is Ella Kirkham. Her dad used to work here, a long time ago. Would you take her to meet Butch? He and Clay worked together for a while.” I glanced at her. “Would you like that? I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ll have to excuse me. I have a lot of work to do today, and I thought you might like to talk to someone who knew your dad.”
Her cheeks pinked. “I’d like that a lot.”
I extended my hand once more. “Again, my condolences.”
She thanked me, and Teague led her toward the bunkhouse.
I sagged against the wall of the bunkhouse, clutching the envelope.
What on earth did you want to say to me, after all this time? And why couldn’t you say it in person?I had so many questions.
Why did he leave?
How did he end up in another state?
Why didn’t he contact me?
Why did he leave without a goddamn word?
I hoped the answers lay in his letter.
Teague walked over to me, his gaze alighting on the envelope. “Who was he?”
“He was a ranch hand here. When Butch came to work at Salvation, Clay had been working here for about a year.”
“What happened?”
I managed a nonchalant shrug. “He moved on. Noteveryonestays at Salvation.” I pocketed the letter and walked toward the stable. It would be quiet in there.
I wanted to read it undisturbed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Toby
Robert’s text had arrived an hour ago, and since then I’d heard nothing.
Has he canceled the ride?If that were the case, surely he’d have messaged. Zeeb said he’d spotted Robert near the stables, but that had been a while back. And something was going on. Butch was in deep conversation with a young woman, and when she left, he seemed sad. I wasn’t about to ask why—sharing Robert’s bed didn’t afford me any privileges.
When it got to two-thirty, I figured that was it, plan canceled. Then my phone pinged.
Be ready in ten minutes.
I’d been ready since lunch.
I walked over to the stables. At least we’d gotten the visit to the clinic done. Robert’s results were no surprise, given his lack of activity, but having his status confirmed had clearly been important to him. I’d felt the same way. It had only been a month since my latest test, but that didn’t matter—it was a question of trust.
If things worked out and I did make my suggestion, I wanted him to trust me.
Paul led Lightning and Rusty out of the stable, all saddled up. Across their backs lay a cotton-covered roll, attached to the saddle. I was no expert, but they looked like bedrolls to me. The thought made me smile.
Just exactly what is Robert planning?
I had no idea, but I liked it.
Paul led the horses toward a trailer, its ramp lowered. I went over to him and took Lightning’s reins. “I take it wherever we’re going isn’t close.” We walked the horses up the ramp, slipped halters over the bridles, and tethered them to the bars that ran along the inside of the trailer. It was plenty big enough for the two of them. The floor of the trailer was covered with rubber matting.
Paul smiled. “The boss is taking you to Mirror Lake. That means a drive to the Spanish Creek Trailhead. The trail isn’t that long, but it climbs a lot, especially in the last few miles. Make sure your phone is fully charged. You’ll want to take photos.” Then he stilled. “Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to tell you where you were going.”
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