The Reward by Beth Williamson

Author:Beth Williamson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Leigh pulled Ghost to a halt in front of the sheriff’s office early the next morning. She couldn’t sleep, and worry over Malcolm kept her from sitting on her hands doing nothing. So she left Andy in charge and headed to town as the first pink rays of the dawn painted the sky.

She hoped Joe Monroe was sober this morning. As a sheriff, he wasn’t too bad, but he wasn’t too good either. Most of his job involved keeping drunks locked up until they sobered up. Twenty years ago, Joe was a fit man with a hell of a lot more vim and vigor. Today, he was a tired, aging man who needed to step down from his post and let someone who could actually run after an outlaw take the job.

She wore her most sober clothes this morning. Black shirt and vest, dark brown trousers and a pistol on her right hip. There was no way in hell she was going anywhere without protection. The rifle in her saddle also stood testament to that.

She tried the door and it wasn’t locked, so she pushed and stepped into the gloom.

Surprisingly, Joe sat behind the desk with his nose buried in a pile of papers. He didn’t even notice she walked in the room. Leigh had a suspicion his hearing wasn’t the only thing losing steam.

“Mornin’, Joe.”

He looked up, startled. “Morning, Miz Leigh. What are you doing here so early?” He squinted through the window at the daylight. “Can’t be much past seven.”

“I’ve got a real problem, Joe. I need your help.”

He gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Everything in the sheriff’s office looked like it had seen better days and the chairs were no exception. She was no featherweight and one of them looked like the weight of a tortilla would break it. She chose the sturdier—although sturdy seemed too strong a word—chair and lowered herself slowly into it. It emitted a short creak, but stayed together.

Joe had a tin mug of steaming coffee and a half-eaten biscuit on the desk. He nibbled on the biscuit and picked up the coffee cup, leaning back in his chair to look at her. Behind the watery eyes and sagging jowls, she saw a sharpness that age hadn’t dulled. Perhaps coming to see him was a good idea.

“I’ve got over twelve hundred head missing, Joe, including most of my spring calves. Rustled clean off my place. I don’t know when or how, but I know Earl was behind it. And I think Damasco Zarza.”

Joe’s expression remained inscrutable. “What else?”

“I’ve told you about the water problems before, but there have been dozens of things going wrong over the past two years. Someone’s trying to ruin the Circle O, and they’re doing a damn fine job of it. Without those missing cattle, I can’t last much past four months.”

She felt a little despair speaking the words out loud, but only a little. Her anger and determination reared their two heads and bit her ass to keep her strong.

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