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After showing Grady his room, Cecily sought out Bryce, who tugged her into Derek’s empty study. “I’m still getting hinky vibes from him,” he said.
“Come on, Bryce. He’s a kid caught in a new situation, and not one he’d have chosen for himself. He’s confused and a bit scared, which manifests itself as belligerence. Any teenage boy would be the same way. You saw him at supper. He was trying to interact with adults, probably something he’s not used to doing, especially if he’s been on his own for the last couple of months. What about him reading to Ginger? He showed some good instincts.”
“Why was he in the barn in the first place? You haven’t been around him. He does not feel comfortable around horses. Why would he go there?”
“Maybe he forgot something, and then felt sorry for Ginger. I don’t know. Why not ask him? If he was going to mess with anything, why stick around?”
The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the first rancher. Bryce huffed. “We can talk later.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, throwing his words at him as she stomped toward the dining room.
As the ranchers assembled in the dining room, availing themselves of Sabrina’s offerings while they waited for everyone to arrive, Cecily trotted upstairs to Grady’s room. He sat on the bed, reading. She tapped on the jamb. He glanced in her direction and gave his normal response. A shrug.
Cecily took that as an invitation to enter, and stepped inside. “You like to read?” she asked.
Instead of a shrug, she got a grunt and enough of a head bob to assume he meant yes. “Derek’s got books in his study. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed some.”
“Thanks.” Grady closed the book over a forefinger and gave her a What do you want? look.
“I’d like you to come downstairs. Meet the local ranchers.”
“You want to trot out the poster child for your project, just say so. Sure, I’ll go down and tell them how your horse program has turned my life around. In a day-and-a-half.”
She stepped back as the words hit her like individual slaps across the face. “Grady—”
He put the book on the nightstand. Scrubbed his hands across his cheeks. Met her gaze, a contrite expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m tired, and today wasn’t what I’d thought I’d be doing. I mean the dead cow part. The rest was okay.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll come down and you can introduce me. I won’t say anything bad about your program.”
She wasn’t sure she trusted him. “No, you don’t have to come down. I was imposing, and like you said, it’s been a day-and-a-half. Maybe, once you get into a routine, you can meet them.”
“No, I’ll go.” He must have caught her skeptical expression, because he drew a forefinger in an X across his chest. “I’ll be good. Cross my heart.”
“Grady, I don’t want you to lie. Ever. You’re right. I tend to go overboard thinking about my long range plans for the program. Sometimes I forget you’re a real person, not a name on forms. It’s not fair to put the burden of my entire program’s success on you.”
“No, I get it,” he said. “I do appreciate you’re giving me an escape.”
She caught an underlying meaning in the tone he used for the word escape, but couldn’t interpret it. Was he running from more than a life on the streets? Could Bryce’s hunch Grady was hiding something have merit?
Not now. Don’t push him. It’s two days into a six-week program. Not only that, he’s caught in the middle of a cow killer situation. He doesn’t trust you yet. Not enough to open up.
Patience was always a struggle for her. She smiled and gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s go meet some ranchers.”
In addition to Frank, Tim, and Bryce, five ranchers turned to assess the new kid when she and Grady entered the room. Instead of hanging back and cowering as she expected, Grady seemed to have thrown a personality lever. He stood tall, smiled, made eye contact with each of the ranchers.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said when she introduced him. “I’m clueless when it comes to ranching, but thanks to Derek and Bryce—” he nodded at the two of them— “I hope to learn enough so I don’t get in the way. As long as I’m here, I want to thank Cecily, too. In case you didn’t already know, I’m here instead of panhandling and Dumpster diving because of her program, and Derek’s generosity.”
Cecily felt heat rise to her cheeks, but he’d left her an opening and she wasn’t going to ignore it. “Grady will be an excellent spokesman for Helping Through Horses, and I hope all of you will consider opening your ranches to others like him.”
She caught Derek’s twitch, the one that meant enough, and stopped before extending a full-blown sales pitch. “I’ll let you get on with your meeting. Derek said I can sit in, so if there’s anything I can take to the Sheriff’s Department, let me know.”
Grady cleared his throat. “I saw the dead cow, and I hope you catch whoever did it. I might be a city kid, but that was ... wrong.”
“We’re going to do our best,” Derek said. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
Grady slouched into the boy Cecily knew. “If you don’t mind, I thought maybe I could watch some television? Or surf the web a little? You know, watch some YouTube?” he said.
“I can show him,” Cecily said.
Derek seemed to consider it a little longer than necessary, but he pushed away from the table. “No problem. I’ll do it.”
He and Grady went down the hall, and Cecily popped into the kitchen. “You need any help?” she asked Sabrina. “I can take it from here if you want to get home.”
“You sure?” Sabrina pulled a pan of pizza rolls—homemade, not the frozen ones Cecily would have used—out of the oven, and slid them onto a platter. “I’ve got a ton of things to do for tomorrow.”
Cecily moved the platter aside and stepped closer to Sabrina. “We’re two of a kind, aren’t we? Always saying yes when someone needs help. Or going out of our way to find someone who needs help. You with your cooking school, me with my Helping Through Horses. I guess this is where I say I appreciate you, too.”
Sabrina set the potholders onto the counter and gave Cecily a quick squeeze. “I know you do. Let’s get the food on the table, and I’ll pass the wooden spoon to you.”
If Derek wanted the cooperation of the ranchers, he knew enough to solicit Sabrina’s help. In addition to pizza rolls, she had nachos, hot wings, pot stickers, an assortment of cheeses and crackers, brownies, and two kinds of cookies. One of these days, Cecily would follow Sabrina’s lead and make extra of everything and freeze it for last-minute entertaining.
Ha! As if she ever entertained. And never at the Sabrina level. Hell, Cecily wouldn’t have gone this all out for a major holiday party, much less a rancher strategy meeting.
As they sat around the table, she made note of the things Bryce took for his plate. Pot stickers? She’d never have guessed it.
Phil Randall volunteered to contact the Department of Agriculture’s Brand Inspection officer in the morning to see if they had any more information than the deputies. Nobody could suggest a motive. All agreed to up surveillance.
“If it comes to that, I have some surveillance equipment,” Derek said.
“Might be enough to mount dummy cameras and spread the word we’re watching. As a deterrent,” Frank added.
“You know, according to the law, cattle rustling is still a hanging offense,” Randall said.
“Is it rustling if they slaughter steers?” Cecily asked.
“I’m thinking animal cruelty, destruction of property, criminal trespass,” Frank said.
“We catch this guy, we can turn him over to the law and let them decide the specific charges,” Derek said. “Nobody’s going to hang someone, not even if the old statute is still on the books.”
At eight o’clock, most of the business was wrapped up, and chatter was about the food and shop talk. After another half-hour, Cecily let the ranchers divvy the leftovers and put the serving dishes and utensils in the dishwasher before calling it a night.
After goodbyes were said, Cecily wandered to Derek’s study where Grady was watching television. Or not watching, since he had the volume low and was reading one of Derek’s books.
He glanced up as she walked in.
“Find something you like?” Cecily asked.
He raised a copy of Lonesome Dove.
“Good book. But I thought you’d be watching YouTube,” she said.
“Saw enough. Thought I’d read some cowboy stuff.”
Bryce came into the study. “Don’t stay up too late reading. Barn at oh six-hundred tomorrow.”
Grady jumped from the chair. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” He strode out of the room, taking the book with him.
Bryce waited until Grady’s footfalls faded away, then strolled to the desk. He rested his hand on the monitor. “Warm.”
“Derek said he could use it,” Cecily said. “Grady said he wanted to watch some YouTube. Is there a problem?”
“Dunno.” Bryce sat at the desk and picked up the mouse. “Said he was watching YouTube?”
“Yes. What’s the big deal?”
“Wonder what he was really looking at.” He clicked the mouse. His lips pursed. “Because there’s nothing in the browsing history for the last two hours.”
“Are you sure?” Cecily asked.
Bryce humored her and checked the computer’s history one more time. He assumed Derek would have given Grady access to a secondary account, not one where the kid would be able to hack into Derek’s files, but to make sure, he’d check. He clicked the history tab again. No, he hadn’t missed it. Nothing in the last two weeks. “Yep. Nothing there.”
“So, maybe Grady decided to watch television instead. Or read.”
He fingered his ponytail, then dropped it when he remembered what Cecily had said about his habit. “My money says he used the computer and wiped out his browsing history. Why would he bother unless he was doing something he wanted to keep a secret?”
Cecily bristled. “You assume it was part of this agenda you keep saying he has. He’s a teenage boy, for God’s sake. Everything is a secret. Maybe he was looking at pictures of naked women. Or men, for that matter. Nothing he’d want us to know about, but not an agenda. And, since he’s a teenager, he probably knows his way around computers better than we do. Wiping his browsing history wouldn’t take any special skills. Maybe at home, he shared a computer. Or his parents snooped. It could be a habit he got into.”
“Another piece of the Grady puzzle.” Bryce stepped away from the desk. Why did everything with Cecily turn into a confrontation? “I’m going home.”
“Suit yourself,” she muttered.
“I thought you said you had to be up early for first shift. If you’d rather stick around and continue this—discussion—I’m okay with it.”
“I don’t think either of us is in the right frame of mind to have a civilized discussion.”
“To you, a discussion is only civilized if I agree with you.” Bryce left the room in search of Derek. To be fair, he needed to know whether he’d given Grady a login, and whether he’d seen the kid use the computer before he left him alone.
Cecily pushed past him and stormed down the hallway. One kiss—or two—did not a relationship make. Nor did it mean they’d suddenly started seeing eye to eye.
She’s not your father. You can open your mouth when you’re with her. Speak your mind.
Bryce took a few calming breaths before hunting down Derek, who was on the front porch saying goodbye to Phil Randall. Bryce waited in the living room. Did he always look for the worst in people? Or had he seen so much bad, he didn’t take time to see the good? Maybe he’d be better off sticking to animals.
He strolled to the fireplace and studied the newest addition to the mantle display—a picture of Derek and Sabrina. Smiling at each other, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Things hadn’t been love at first sight for them. Or second or third sight, as he recalled. Yet they’d managed to reconcile their differences.
He couldn’t see Cecily changing, and he was too stuck in his ways to do much changing himself. She needed someone who had her overcharged helping gene. Like Andy.
Thinking about that cop had Bryce’s blood pressure rocketing past the moon. If she wanted Andy, she could have him.
The front door closed, and Bryce realized he was playing with his hair again.
Thanks a lot, Cecily, for pointing that out.
Derek strode to his liquor cabinet. “Nightcap?”
“I’m good,” Bryce said. “Had a question about Grady.”
Derek poured a shot of whiskey and turned. “Ask.”
Bryce posed his concerns. “Did he change his mind about using the computer?”
Derek crossed to the couch and set his glass on the end table before taking a seat. “I logged him on myself. As a guest. Opened the browser for him. He had access to the web, but nothing else.”
“You saw him use the computer?”
Derek lifted his glass. “No. He sat at the desk, and I left him alone.”
“Cecily thinks I’m overreacting. Said he might have been checking out the current equivalent of the Playboy we remember, and erasing his browsing history is the same as hiding it under his bed.”
Derek chuckled. “And less likely to be discovered by a snooping kid sister.”
“A perk of no siblings, I guess,” Bryce said. “What do you think? You read his case file. Anything sending up red flags?”
“I skimmed his case file. With Cecily, it’s a given she’s done the homework. She wouldn’t have suggested Grady for her program unless she’d researched him thoroughly. You could ask her.”
Bryce resisted the urge to grab his hair.
“I’ve got a copy of what she sent me somewhere,” Derek said. “Given you’re working with him, I suppose you can see it. I imagine he knows what’s in it.” He sipped at his drink. “I hoped Grady would reveal his past in his own time, once he trusts us.”
Derek sounded like Cecily.
“Guess you’re right,” Bryce said. “Nobody likes people poking into their private business. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Derek stood and walked with him to the kitchen. “I think there are some brownies left over.”
Bryce shook his head and patted his belly. “Full. I don’t get the same exercise showing Grady what to do as if I was working cattle.”
Bryce grabbed his Stetson from the mudroom shelf and strolled across the yard to the barn. Even a couple of minutes in there, inhaling the mixed aromas, listening to the steady breathing of the horses, calmed him. Tonight, it took a little longer. He contemplated bunking on the cot in the stall set aside for those nights when a horse needed round-the-clock attention, but the familiar surroundings did their job. He drove home in relative peace. He’d follow Derek’s suggestion. Let Grady open up when he was ready.
That didn’t mean Bryce couldn’t try to lead the conversation in the direction he wanted. Subtle wasn’t his strong suit, but he could try. As he drifted to sleep, his thoughts were of Cecily, not Grady.
He woke, heart pounding, covered in sweat. The clock said two a.m. He hadn’t had a nightmare in months. Bryce used the bathroom, furious his legs were shaking, then padded to the kitchen for a glass of water. Taking it to the couch, he tried to pinpoint what was different about this dream.
He sat in the dark. The night air against his damp, bare chest sent a shiver down his spine, but he didn’t bother getting up to put on a shirt. When the answer came to him, the chill coursing through his body wasn’t from the cold.
Normally, his nightmares were about an op gone south, where the kid, a huge grin on his face opened his jacket and revealed the bomb. This time, it was no kid wearing the explosives. It was his father.