The Salt City Scrape by J. R. Roberts

Author:J. R. Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2014-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

Clint saddled Eclipse and rode out to the Kendall ranch, looking for Haven. He didn’t ride near any of the structures, but circled around the ranch until he spotted the tracker. He was kneeling down, looking at the ground. His horse was behind him, a pinto standing easily while his reins were grounded.

Clint rode up to Haven and dismounted.

“Anything?” Clint asked.

Haven didn’t look up, but asked, “How did your talk with the judge go?”

“Too easy,” Clint said. “He told me we could leave town, but since he’s the sheriff’s uncle, I’m not convinced he’s not setting us up.”

Haven looked up at Clint.

“That bother you?”

Clint thought a moment, then said, “It might, but I’ll worry about that later. How about you?”

Haven waved and looked back down at the ground.

“I got an idea after we split up,” he said. “I rode out to the salt mine and had a look around. Lots of tracks, but I figured if any of them matched anything here, they might belong to the two men you’re interested in.”

“That was good thinking,” Clint said. “What did you find?”

Haven pointed to the ground, and Clint moved closer to have a look.

“This hoof has a chip in it.”

“Enough to make the horse lame?”

“No,” Haven said, standing up, “just enough to mark it for us.”

“Why don’t we make sure?” Clint asked.

Haven nodded. They both mounted up and rode toward the ranch.

• • •

Clint decided to go right to the top. They rode up to the house and he walked to the door and knocked. It was answered by Kitty Lane.

“Well,” she said, “you’re back. Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

“We need a favor.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked, touching her long hair.

“We’d like to take a look in your barn.”

“For what?”

“For wherever Cordell and Underwood stabled their horses.”

“And why would you want that?”

“We’d like to see the tracks their horses left.”

“Ah,” she said, “you’re going to track them.”

“Yes.”

“And is this your tracker?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, “this is Haven.”

“Well,” she said, “why don’t you let Haven have a look in the barn while you come inside and keep me company?”

“Miss Lane—”

“Kitty.”

“Kitty, I need to see those tracks as well.”

“Those are my terms,” she said, folding her arms. “Come inside or get off my property.”

Clint looked at Haven, who looked away.

“Okay,” he said, “can you have somebody take him over there and show him what stalls their horses were in?”

“Sure. Why don’t you go inside and wait in the living room? It’s on the right.”

“All right.” He looked at Haven. “I’ll meet you back here.”

“I’ll be out here,” Haven assured him, “waiting.”

Clint nodded.

“I’ll be right in,” she promised Clint.

She took Haven’s arm and led him down the stairs, then called out and waved to someone.

Clint went inside.

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