The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [102]
John turned heel and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Bob said.
“To find Wirt and tell him I’m ready to take the prisoner to Denver. We’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“Why’s he coming back once Farrar’s been delivered?” Oberlander’s face had reddened even more. John almost told him about Wirt and Mama. Almost. Except Oberlander’s next stop would be to convince Mama to marry him instead of Wirt.
“Unfinished business,” John said. “I suppose he’ll be here a while longer with what we found this morning.”
Oberlander’s features hardened. “We don’t need a US Marshal or any of their kind. I’ll pay men to chase down our stolen livestock.”
“Last time you said that, Leon Wilson ended up dead, and I was shot. No thanks. I’ll take my chances on those trained on how to find lawbreakers.”
Bob cleared his throat. “We need to find out if any of the other ranchers have been hit.”
John thought about the never-ending chores at the ranch, but he was needed more right there wearing a deputy’s badge and escorting the murdering cattle rustler to the proper authorities. The idea of his brothers and Mama and Ember carrying a rifle sat like a rock in his stomach. Being armed for impending danger because lawbreakers were on the loose was the difference between civilization and two-legged animals. If he thought about it long enough, worry would drive him crazy.
“On the way back from Denver, Wirt and I can call on a few ranchers who had missing cattle in the past,” John said.
“Wait for me to ride with you on those calls,” Bob said.
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“Right. You can protect me.”
John shook his head. A town marshal and undertaker who had a sense of humor. And Bob was a crack shot.
“I’m taking care of this my way.” Oberlander swung a look at Simon. “Be glad you’re leaving because someone could put a bullet in your head.”
“Word of advice,” Bob said. “Break the law, and you’re under arrest. Think about that.”
Oberlander flashed him a look of contempt and stomped out onto the boardwalk.
With Simon Farrar delivered to the US Marshal’s office in Denver, Wirt stayed behind for a few days while John rode back to Rocky Falls. He and Bob checked with other ranchers about their cattle, but no one had experienced any more problems. John pondered riding home. His family could take care of themselves, but no doubt his ranch and the Wide O had been singled out. He assumed Clint and Lester were taking revenge for Simon’s arrest.
John and Bob rode onto Sparky McBride’s High Plains Ranch in brilliant sunshine, not at all the kind of day a man would expect crime to burst from unexpected places. Four more stops after this, and if no problems were reported, John would check back with his family.
Sparky’s wife said her husband had left early that morning with their son to cut a few trees to add another room to their house before winter. They’d be on the northeast portion of their property. John knew the location, which would make them easy to find.
“Do you mind if we take a look in your barn?” Bob said. “A couple of ranchers found their horses missing this morning, and we’re making sure the other ranches are all right.”
“Go right ahead.” Sparky’s wife walked their way, a robust woman who could hold her own in any brawl. “I just came from the barn about two hours ago. Everything looked fine.”
“Then no need for us to see your barn.” Bob leaned toward her on his saddle, his tone soft.
From beneath her bonnet, she shielded her eyes from the dazzling sunlight. “Sparky said you’d caught the cattle rustler.”
“Thought we did,” Bob said, “until this morning.”
John noted the casual way Bob stated the announcement about more trouble. Folks were jumpy, quick to press the triggers on their rifles.
“None of us can handle losing any more of our cattle—or our friends.” Her gaze moved to the east. “The barn’s empty.”
“We’ll be going then, ma’am,” Bob said.
“After you talk to Sparky, would you stop back and let me know he’s all right. All this makes me nervous. Our oldest