that either of them would dream of such a thing. She planned to see her children raised here and her children’s children.
She worked her way toward the south forty, riding Scout through the scrub pines and rock outcroppings until she spotted her brother with a handful of men repairing one of the corrals.
Cody looked up when he heard her approach. He frowned, but said nothing as she dismounted and, ground-tying Scout, walked toward him.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, a few yards from the men.
Cody didn’t seem surprised, just obviously not happy about the prospect.
“Now?” he asked pointedly.
“Now,” she said, digging in her heels.
He looked worried, as if she’d ridden all this way to talk about their father’s death. She knew people dealt with their grief in different ways, but Cody seemed to be running from it. She’d heard him up at all hours of the night, roaming the old ranch house, as lost as she was. If only he’d talk to her about it.
She desperately needed her big brother back, she thought as she watched him slowly move toward her. He was tall and broad-shouldered like their father, with slim hips and long legs. His handsome face was tanned, the lines strong, confident. She’d missed him. Worse, she could feel a distance between them that scared her and she feared what she had to say would only make matters worse.
But she was her father’s daughter and didn’t know any other way but to take the bull by the horns. “I’m sure you can spare a minute.”
“I’m really busy right now,” Cody said impatiently. “I’m sure whatever this is about can wait until—”
“It can’t wait.” She wished she’d tried harder to talk to him before this. She’d let him stew in his own juices for far too long.
With reluctance, he followed her over to a lone oak.
Once in the shade, she turned to face him. “I found something in Dad’s den I need to talk to you about.”
His expression instantly closed.
She pulled the check from her pocket and handed it to him.
He looked puzzled, but took it from her, unfolded the check, glanced at it, then handed it back.
“You knew about this!” She couldn’t believe it. She thought this was just her father’s doing. “You knew,” she accused, angry and crushed that her brother had been part of it. “Damn it, Cody.”
“No reason to start swearing like a cowhand, Chelsea.” He shifted the weight from one dusty boot to the other, his gaze moving off to the west as if he wished he could go with it.
“You knew how much I loved Jack. You knew.” She felt hot tears. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Cody asked.
“No.” She brushed the wetness from her cheeks. She’d never been a crier and didn’t intend to become one now. “All that’s obvious is that the two of you tried to buy him off.”
“You don’t know the whole story,” Cody said with a stubborn set of his jaw.
“Then you’d better tell me—” she planted her hands on her hips “—because we’re not leaving this spot until you do. And don’t think you can avoid me like you have for weeks and not discuss this.”
“Let it go, sis,” Cody warned. “It’s all water under the bridge.”
“Not for me.” She’d never gotten over Jack Shane. Nor had she ever found another man who could fill his boots. It hadn’t been just a schoolgirl crush, damn it.
Her brother looked down at the ground.
“Dad tried to tell me something in the ambulance,” she said. “I found a note attached to the check, ‘Tell Chelsea before it’s too late.’ It’s obvious that Dad regretted what he did and wanted to make it right before he died.”
Cody’s head jerked up, his brown eyes darkening. “The only reason he’d have told you was to warn you,” her brother snapped.
“Warn me?”
“Jack Shane wasn’t the man you thought he was,” Cody said, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry, sis, but he was only after the ranch.”
“Like hell.” She felt the tears again but fought them back. She’d loved Jack. And he’d loved her. A woman knew. Even a young woman who’d fallen in love for the first time. She couldn’t have been wrong about Jack. Oh yeah? Then why didn’t he come to you with this? Why did he just leave a hurried note? And the big one, why hadn’t he come back?
She felt the check in her hand. “He didn’t take the money. That proves what kind of man he was.”
Cody chewed at his cheek for a moment, then slowly raised his gaze to meet hers again. “I never wanted to have to tell you this, but I know Dad was worried that Jack might show up again after... Dad planned to tell you himself....”
She stared at her brother. He’d known that their father was dying. She felt sick. Sick that her father hadn’t told her. Sick that Cody had had to carry the burden of that knowledge alone.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. “Dad thought Jack would come back? Why would he think that?”
Cody looked away. “With Dad out of the way—”
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “If Jack had wanted the ranch, he’d have stayed and fought for me.” If he’d loved her enough...
“Not under the circumstances,” Cody mumbled. “I hate to be the one, but someone has to tell you.”
Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and she held her breath, suddenly afraid. “Tell me what?”
“We started losing cattle just after Jack hired on. Dad and I didn’t want to believe it was him, because from the start we could see how you felt about him.”
“Jack was rustling cattle?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s true. Remember the night Ray Dale Farnsworth was killed?”
Ray Dale was the son of a neighboring farmer. Her father had hired him as a favor to Angus Farnsworth, Ray Dale’s father. Ray Dale was a wild one, always in trouble, but Ryder thought he could help the young man.
Then Ray Dale was found dead in Box Canyon at the north end of the ranch. It appeared he’d fallen from his horse and hit his head. Everyone had always wondered what he’d been doing in the canyon that night.
The sheriff had wondered as well. She remembered overhearing something about semi-truck tire prints along a nearby road and a rumor of rustling. But rustling was always something to worry about on a ranch the size of the Wishing Tree, and when the sheriff ruled the death accidental, that had been the end of the rustling talk.
“Ray Dale and Jack were rustling our cows,” Cody said quietly. “Dad and I had suspected it for some time.” He held up a hand. “It’s the honest to God truth. I saw Jack ride out after Ray Dale that night.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “That proves nothing.”
“The two had rounded up about fifty head in Box Canyon,” Cody continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know what happened. There was a storm that night so maybe the lightning and thunder spooked the cows and they stampeded and Ray Dale got thrown from his horse.” He shrugged. “But Jack was there. I followed him to the canyon, then I rode back to tell Dad.”
She shook her head. “There has to be another explanation.”
“Jack had a record, Chels. We found out that this wasn’t his first brush with the law. He’d done some time in Juvenile Hall for stealing on other ranches where he’d