Page 14 of August’s Cowboy Braxton

CHAPTER 4

ADDISON

I kept staring at the tracking device on Braxton’s kitchen table. It was tiny. Small enough that I could have carried it around for weeks without knowing it was there. Which, according to Braxton, I probably had. That was the part I couldn’t stop thinking about.

“How long ago did you start helping with the heritage display?” he asked.

I looked up. “What?”

“The boxes you sorted through. When did you start?”

I thought back. “Sometime in June.”

His expression changed.

“What?”

“Isn’t that when the messages started?”

A chill raced across my skin. I looked back at the tracker. “You think they’re connected?”

“I think somebody put that thing in your crown case around the same time you started digging through old records.”

“I wasn’t digging.” I wrapped both hands around my coffee mug. “Morgan needed help going through donations for the Royalty Weekend display. County fair programs, regional rodeo stuff, old pageant photos. Most of it wasn’t anything anybody would care about.”

“Most of it?”

I knew where he was going. “There was a photo.”

“The one you showed Dallas last month?”

I nodded. “I found it on the Fourth of July. Two men standing with a herd of cattle. One looked like a Kincaid. The other was Hollister.”

Braxton got up to pour himself more coffee. “And?”

“The steer closest to them had both family brands.”

His brows drew together as he grabbed the carafe.

“Exactly.” I took another sip even though my coffee had gone cold. “Those families have spent more than a hundred years acting like they’ve always hated each other. Then I find a picture of them running cattle together.”

“Who else did you show?” He carried the pot over and warmed up my coffee.

“Dallas and Sadie first. Morgan saw it too.”

“And that was the same day you got the message about August?”

I stopped with the mug halfway to my mouth.

Smile pretty, Addison. I’ll be watching in August.

I slowly lowered it. “I didn’t think about that.”

“I did.”

Figured. He was ten steps ahead of me.

Braxton’s gaze dropped to the tracker again. “Did Morgan ever go back through the box after you found the photo?”