Chapter 2 - The Ledger in the Dust
Nathan ran toward the second rider before the horse had fully stopped.
The man was not one of his.
He wore a gray coat despite the heat and rode a chestnut mare marked with foam.
The ledger was tucked beneath his arm.
Eli's hand drifted toward his holster.
Nathan raised one finger.
Wait.
The stranger dismounted.
"I found this on county land."
Nathan took the ledger.
It was his.
Brown leather.
Corner burned from a lantern accident three winters earlier.
Initials N.B. pressed into the cover by his father.
"Where?"
"Dry creek bed, four miles southeast."
"Who are you?"
"Samuel Vane."
The name meant nothing to Nathan.
"Passing through?"
"Was."
Samuel glanced at the ranch hands.
"Then I saw tracks."
"What kind?"
"Cattle. Lot of them."
Nathan opened the ledger.
Several pages were missing.
His pulse jumped.
The pages containing herd counts.
Loan information.
And the schedule for moving cattle before winter.
Someone had known exactly what to remove.
Eli swore softly.
Nathan turned toward Jesse.
"How many tracks?"
"Hard to tell."
"Try."
"At least sixty head."
Nathan's jaw tightened.
Sixty-three cattle were supposed to be in the southern pasture.
Every one represented money he needed to survive the winter.
Caleb stepped forward.
"Rustlers?"
Samuel Vane looked at him.
"Rustlers don't usually leave a ranch ledger."
Nathan did not like the man.
But again, he was right.
Margaret stood beside the butcher table with her sleeves still rolled.
She had not spoken.
Nathan noticed her gaze resting on the cut leather Jesse carried.
"What?" he asked.
She walked over.
"May I?"
Jesse handed her the strip.
Margaret examined the blood.
Then the cut brand.
Then the edges of the leather.
"This isn't from a saddle."
Nathan frowned.
"How would you know?"
"It's too thin."
Eli took it.
"She's right."
Margaret pointed toward the dark stain.
"And that's not enough blood for something serious."
Jesse said, "Could be from a man's hand."
"Could be."
Margaret touched the edge without touching the blood.
"But why leave it where you'd find it?"
Nathan looked at Samuel.
The stranger shrugged.
"Warning?"
Margaret shook her head.
"Invitation."
The yard went quiet.
Nathan stared at her.
"To what?"
"To follow."
That was precisely what Nathan wanted to do.
Immediately.
He ordered Eli to saddle horses.
Margaret said, "No."
Every man looked at her.
Nathan's voice hardened.
"You've been here one day."
"Less."
"And you're telling me how to handle stolen cattle?"
"I'm telling you someone left exactly enough evidence to make an angry rancher ride into open country without thinking."
Nathan stepped closer.
"You suggesting I sit here?"
"I'm suggesting you think before doing what whoever took your herd expects."
His anger rose.
"My cattle are gone."
"I heard."
"That herd keeps this ranch alive."
"I understand that too."
"Do you?"
Margaret's voice cooled.
"More than you know."
For one long second, Nathan expected an argument.
Instead she gave the bloody leather back to Jesse.
"Send two men. Not six."
Eli said, "She's got a point."
Nathan turned on him.
"You too?"
"If there's trouble, leaving the ranch empty would be foolish."
Nathan hated sensible advice when it stood between him and action.
But he was not stupid.
He sent Eli and Jesse.
Samuel Vane volunteered to show them where he had found the ledger.
Nathan refused.
"You've done enough."
Samuel did not argue.
"I'll take water, then."
Caleb filled his canteen.
Twenty minutes later Samuel rode west.
Eli and Jesse rode southeast.
Nathan remained behind with enough anger to split timber.
Margaret returned to the meat.
That infuriated him.
"You can work right now?"
She looked up.
"Will staring down the road bring your cattle back?"
"No."
"Then yes."
He watched her press salt into beef.
"Nothing unsettles you?"
"Plenty."
"You hide it well."
"I learned."
Nathan leaned against the table.
"Your husband?"
Her hands slowed.
That was answer enough.
Nathan regretted asking.
Margaret kept working.
"He gambled."
Nathan said nothing.
"He drank after losing."
Her voice remained even.
"He became generous when winning and cruel when losing."
Nathan's eyes moved to her face.
"Did he hurt you?"
Margaret rubbed salt into the meat.
"He's dead."
"That wasn't my question."
"No."
She finally looked at Nathan.
"It wasn't."
Nathan understood that boundary.
He stepped back.
"I won't ask again."
"Thank you."
They worked in silence.
An hour passed.
Then Margaret found something.
Inside the smokehouse, beneath a rear shelf, she noticed disturbed dirt.
Nathan saw her kneel.
"What?"
"Bring a shovel."
He did.
Three inches beneath the soil was a small burlap sack.
Nathan lifted it.
Coins clinked.
Caleb whistled.
Nathan opened the sack.
Silver.
More than fifty dollars.
He stared.
"This isn't mine."
Margaret said, "Then someone hid it here."
Caleb stepped into the doorway.
"Who?"
No one answered.
Nathan counted.
Seventy-five dollars.
A significant amount.
Enough to tempt a ranch hand.
Enough to pay somebody for information.
He looked at Caleb.
Then toward the bunkhouse.
Suspicion spread through him like poison.
Margaret saw it.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Start accusing men before you know what the money means."
"You think it buried itself?"
"No."
"Someone on my ranch hid it."
"Maybe."
Nathan gave a humorless laugh.
"You enjoy that word."
"It keeps people from hanging the wrong man."
Nathan folded the burlap.
"Nobody said hanging."
Caleb said, "You kind of looked like you were thinking it."
Nathan glared at him.
Caleb stepped back.
At dusk, Eli returned alone.
Nathan ran to meet him.
"Where's Jesse?"
"Following the tracks."
"You left him?"
"He ordered me back."
"Since when does Jesse order you?"
"Since we found this."
Eli handed Nathan a small piece of paper.
A message.
Three words.
PAY WHAT'S OWED.
Nathan read it twice.
"What's owed?"
Eli shook his head.
"No idea."
"Where was it?"
"Nailed to a cottonwood."
Margaret came closer.
Nathan gave her the note.
She studied the handwriting.
Then looked at the ledger.
"Open the cover."
He did.
Inside, faint ink marks appeared where moisture had stained the leather.
Margaret held the message beside it.
Nathan saw it.
Same slant.
Same long tail on the Y.
Someone who had written inside Nathan's ledger had written the threat.
Nathan turned pages.
Most entries were his own.
Some were Eli's.
A few had been made by his late father.
Then he found a series of figures he did not recognize.
Payments.
Initials.
R.H.
A date from eleven years earlier.
Margaret whispered, "Who is R.H.?"
Nathan felt the blood leave his face.
He knew.
Robert Hayes.
Margaret's dead husband.
Nathan slowly lifted his eyes to her.
"Your husband's name was Robert."
Margaret went still.
"Yes."
Nathan turned the ledger toward her.
Her expression changed when she saw the initials.
"Why is his name in my father's ranch ledger?"
Margaret did not answer.
Nathan repeated the question.
She stared at the figures.
Then whispered, "Because your father knew him."
"You said you came from Kansas."
"I did."
"My father never went to Kansas."
Margaret looked at Nathan.
"Your father didn't need to."
Nathan's heart began pounding.
"What does that mean?"
Before she could answer, a gunshot cracked beyond the barn.
Caleb shouted.
Men ran.
Nathan reached the rear fence first.
Jesse's horse stood there riderless.
May you like
Blood darkened the saddle.
And tied around the horn was Margaret Hayes's wedding ring.
