Page 77 of The Rancher Who Swore Off Love
“Damn the silver to hell; they were in the house!”
“Grace—”
“Miriam is here, Logan!” She looked at the nursery door down the hall. “Someone walked through this house in the dark while my baby—”
“Our baby.”
Grace’s eyes snapped to his.
“Ourbaby.” He glances at Miriam. “And nobody’s gettin’ near her. Or you. Not while I’m breathin’. You understand me?”
Miriam, who had impeccable timing for a person with no concept of time, chose this moment to let out a wail that split the air like a saw blade. Grace bounced her, shushing against the top of her head, but her eyes stayed locked on Logan’s.
“We’re gonna figure out who did this.” He crossed the room to her. Put one hand on the baby’s back and the other on Grace’s arm, right above the elbow. “I’m gonna figure it out, and I’m gonna make this house safe. That’s a promise.”
She nodded.
“Now.” He squeezed her arm. “Go feed her. We’ll eat quick and then I need every man outside checkin’ the property.”
***
Breakfast lasted twelve minutes.
Grace’s bacon, the eggs, the biscuits, all of it tasted like nothing on Logan’s tongue, because his tongue had disconnected from the rest of his body somewhere between the office and the kitchen.
He ate because Pa had taught him to eat before a crisis.A man who won’t feed himself ain’t fit to make decisions about nothin’ else.So, he ate.
Then they rode out.
Five men on horseback, fanning across the property in the early light. Mason and Jonah took the north line, Thomas rode east toward the creek crossing, and Pa made his way to the west perimeter.
Logan rode the south fence. The long stretch that ran from the barn to the property marker, about two miles of barbed wire strung between posts he’d set himself three summers ago. Good posts, sunk deep, braced at the proper angle.
He met the others at the main gate an hour later.
“North line’s clean.” Mason dismounted and looped his reins over the fence. “Every post, every wire. Checked the gate twice. Lock’s still on, chain’s still tight.”
“East too.” Thomas rode up from the creek crossing. “I went all the way to the tree line. Nothin’. Not even a boot print.”
“West is the same.” Pa eased off his mare with a grunt. “Whoever came in didn’t come through the fence.”
“Then how?” Jonah pulled his hat off and dragged a hand through his hair. “I mean… How do you get onto a property this size without cuttin’ wire or breakin’ a gate? You can’t just waltz through—”
“You can if you know the property.” Logan stared at the fence line. “You can if you’ve been watchin’ it long enough to know where the gaps run and where the sight lines break.”
“There ain’t gaps in this fence. You just said—”
“I ain’t talkin’ about the fence. I’m talkin’ about the land.” Logan pointed south, toward the tree line that bordered the creek. “See those cottonwoods?”
Jonah nodded. “The ones that grow right up against the wire on the south side?”
“A man could come through those trees from the creek bed and stay in cover the whole way to the back of the house. Never cross the fence at all. Just follow the creek up to where it passes under the wire at the drainage culvert.”
Mason frowned. “Ain’t no way a man can pass through there. The culvert’s… what? Two feet of clearance?”
“I dunno…” Jonah shook his head. “A man on his belly…”
Nobody spoke for a second. The five men stood at the fence, staring at the spot where the creek disappeared under the wire and reappeared on the other side, all of them running the same math.
