Texas Blaze. Debbi Rawlins

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      THE SUGARLOAF WAS BACK to normal. The tents were gone, the stage and booths already dismantled, only a few picnic tables and benches remained near the bunkhouse. Mitch had intended to help with the teardown and clean up, but he’d gotten up too late. He pulled his pickup off to the shoulder of the driveway and noticed Clint’s truck parked near the barn. Good. Mitch was hoping to catch either him or Joe, preferably both of them.

      As he climbed out of his pickup, his gaze went toward the house. Kate’s small SUV was nowhere in sight but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home. She could have parked in the garage or on the other side of the house. He hoped it wouldn’t be awkward when they saw each other later. That she’d skipped out while he was still asleep wasn’t a total surprise, but he wished they could have talked first. He was totally okay with how last night had played out, but he had a feeling she wasn’t.

      Pete, one of the cowhands who’d been working for the Mannings for as long as Mitch could remember, waved him toward the barn. The tempting smell of coffee coming from inside was enough incentive.

      “Good to see you again, Mitch,” the old-timer said. “I thought I spotted you last night.”

      “Yep, I got here late. Wish I could’ve made it for the rodeo.”

      “Don’t know if you heard, but Ben didn’t ride yesterday. Got himself a spinal fracture and had to quit rodeoing. The doc said if he gets thrown one more time it could do him in.”

      “I found out last night.” He’d felt badly about the news and looked for Ben. They’d known each other since kindergarten. “Too bad his career got cut short, but at least he had enough sense to call it quits.”

      Nodding, Pete raised his mug. “I reckon you’re looking for Joe and Clint, but there’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing inside if you’ve got a mind to take a cup.”

      “Come on, Pete. Have I ever turned down your coffee?”

      The gray-haired man chuckled, and Mitch followed him inside, noticing the slight stoop to his shoulders and how he favored his right leg. The eight years since he’d last seen Pete hadn’t been kind to the older man. Mitch thought about his own father, trying to keep the ranch afloat with only two hired hands for help. Granted, he was a good ten years younger than Pete, but that knowledge didn’t dull the stab of guilt.

      The inside of the barn had hardly changed. A large assortment of tack was neatly arranged on the left wall, dozens of bales of hay were stacked between the horse stalls and two rows of saddles. In the corner was a shed. That was new. Not so the smells. The musky scent of sweat mingled with leather and hay was as familiar as the packed dirt beneath his boots.

      By the time Mitch filled a mug with the strong black brew that Pete was famous for, he heard Clint’s and Joe’s voices as they entered the barn. They both wore new jeans and Western-cut shirts, instead of the usual faded work Levi’s jeans and T-shirts. Joe looked as if he might even have polished his boots.

      The old-timer obviously noticed Mitch’s surprise because he leaned over and whispered, “Them boys are in love.” Cackling to himself, he strode past Joe and Clint on his way out of the barn.

      Joe saw Mitch first and extended his hand as he approached. “Clint told me you were here last night. Sorry I missed you, buddy.”

      “I hit a lot of traffic outside of Dallas and got here late. But I’ll be staying awhile.” He shook Clint’s hand, too, even though he’d seen him briefly last night. “What are you two all gussied up for?”

      “We just got back from the airport,” Joe said, glancing at Clint. “Kate’s friends had flights to catch.”

      “They must be mighty-fine-looking friends.”

      Clint grinned.

      Joe rubbed his jaw, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

      Mitch guessed the old-timer was on to something. “Where’s Kate? Didn’t she go with you?”

      Clint frowned. “Kate? No, why?”

      Mitch tensed. “They are her friends.”

      “We kind of wanted to see them off, and anyway she had a headache. Look, I’m going to go change.” Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “Have you eaten?”

      “Thanks, but I have to run into town,” Mitch said absently, his mind on Kate. Clearly she hadn’t told her brothers about Dennis yet. Mitch hadn’t expected her to mention his role last night, but he was still relieved to know that her brothers had been kept in the dark. “Before I go I wanted to ask you about the new sheriff.”

      “He’s not that new. Been in office over a year now. For the most part folks have been fairly happy with the job he’s done.” Clint poured himself a cup of coffee. “I expect you want to talk to him about the rustling.”

      Mitch nodded, and Clint and Joe exchanged concerned looks.

      “I can change later,” Joe said grimly. “Why don’t we go sit in the kitchen and talk?”

      Something about the way Joe had lowered his voice made Mitch uneasy. There were a couple of cowhands working near the stalls. Did Joe suspect their own men of being involved? Or had the situation deteriorated to the point that no one knew who to trust? Then, too, Mitch wasn’t anxious to go to the house and run into Kate. Not in front of her brothers.

      “I didn’t mean to ambush you. I’m going to be around awhile. This can wait.”

      “Now is as good a time as any.” Joe passed a weary hand over his face. “I’m still tired from the weekend. It’s not like I’m gonna get much done today.”

      “Amen.” Clint drained his coffee. “Let’s go.”

      Mitch had little choice but to follow their lead, and hoped like hell Kate was locked away in her room. Though he had a feeling she’d do her best to stay clear of him, too.

      After walking the modest distance under the broiling sun to the house, they all decided they’d had enough coffee. Clint got a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator, while Joe brought out glasses and set them on the kitchen table. As he’d done hundreds of times before, Mitch sat at the familiar oak table with his two friends, and damn if it didn’t feel like only weeks had passed instead of years.

      “Where’s Ben?” he asked. “He hasn’t left yet, has he?”

      “He had some business in Dallas, and then he was going to head up to look at some land in the panhandle.” Clint removed his hat and hung it off the back of a spare chair. “He’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

      Mitch figured he hadn’t worn his Stetson in ten years. He hoped it was still in his closet. “How’s he doing? Having to quit rodeoing had to be quite a blow.”

      “I think he’s still in shock.” Clint shook his head. “The dummy wanted to ride one last time yesterday. Good thing one of Kate’s friends talked him out of it.”

      Mitch felt for Ben. Hard enough to be forced to give up something you love, worse when it happens when you’re at the top of your game. “I’m glad I’ll get to see him.”

      “So you are СКАЧАТЬ