if what she said fit the narrative.”
“Which is?”
“You don’t socialize because Faith broke your heart.”
“Oh for the love of… That isn’t it.”
“She did hurt you.”
“So?”
“Well, now it seems only the right woman can heal you,” Matt responded as they closed in on the men gathered in front of the stand.
“What? I don’t need-” He broke off when more men approached from behind. Nate rushed forward, securing a place in line, then continued when his friend caught up with him. “We’ll finish this later, on the road.”
Matt raised one eyebrow at Nate’s cross tone. “I look forward to it. I need a word with Gus before we go.” He nodded to the left. “I see him over near the saloon. Come join us when you’re done.”
Troubled thoughts rolled through his mind as Nate watched the other man amble away. Coincidences disturbed him as much as they did Matt. How was the resurrection of old gossip connected to the rustling? The answer remained as elusive as the identity of the rustlers. Despite months of hard work, there was still no hard evidence, just suspects and suspicion.
Ranchers throughout the county were growing understandably furious. Yesterday a number of cattle had gone missing from the Crooked Rim Ranch, a few hours’ ride from Silver Falls City. He’d met Matt there early this morning. The owner was certain he knew who was responsible. Frank Meyers had accused his friend of not doing his job because he refused to arrest Ben right then.
Nate reached up and rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. If undisputable proof didn’t turn up soon, he feared his cousin would take the fall. Distracted, he was slow to step forward when the person in front of him moved and a familiar, smug, voice attacked.
“What put a sour expression on your face, Rolfe? Was the sight of those lowlifes’ necks getting stretched too much for a man like you?”
Great. Can this day get any worse?
The man who had married Faith, the woman he’d once thought to spend his life with, stood behind him. What she’d seen in the short, balding man with a nasty attitude was beyond Nate. Randy Haze had always taken pleasure in cutting people down.
“Well, was it?”
His expression carefully blank, Nate didn’t react. To him needless conflict was a waste of time and energy. He stepped up and handed his token to one of the men returning weapons, hoping Haze would lose interest if ignored. To speed up the process, he pointed to the revolver in his holster, hanging on a peg to the left. When the man reached up to match the tag on his gun belt to his token, Randy persisted.
“Are you deaf, Rolfe?”
“No.” Nate kept his response brief and bland as he took his weapon from the deputy.
“Well then?”
When he stepped off to the side, allowing the line to move forward, Nate felt the other man follow him without pausing to collect his own firearm. He adjusted the belt around his hips before looking over, meeting the disagreeable man’s gaze. For a moment he considered responding with a few choice words, then decided Haze wasn’t worth his time. Without a word, he strode off to rejoin Matt.
“I guess what they say is true.”
Nate kept walking, heading for the men standing near the corner of The Trail’s End Saloon.
“You hide away because you’re a lily-livered coward.”
His jaw clenched, but he allowed the taunt to go unanswered, unwilling to show how the slur bothered him. The ugly charge had joined the gossip regarding him in recent weeks. His suspicion about the man’s involvement deepened.
“Trouble?” Matt asked when Nate joined him and Marshal Evans.
“Just Randy being Randy.”
The marshal studied Nate briefly then looked beyond him. “Personal issue?”
“Likely.” Nate offered a measured response. He was slow to warm to people and had only met Gus on a handful of occasions.
Matt, on the other hand, knew the marshal well and was more forthcoming. “Randy Haze likes to stir things up. I suspect he’s one of the people behind the rumors we talked about.”
“Like the one saying you need to be kicked out of office?” Gus turned, facing Nate squarely. “Was he bad-mouthing the sheriff?”
“No.”
“What was his beef?”
“Just trying to rile me.”
“A troublemaker?”
“Doubt he’ll cause you any headaches.” Matt drew the other lawman’s attention. “He probably came for the hanging and Nate had the bad luck to run into him.”
“That’s over.” Tone crisp, Gus straightened his hat. “I’ll have a word with Haze, get him headed out of my town.” He nodded to Matt. “Thanks for the update. I’ll see you next week.” Then he directed another nod at Nate. “Rolfe.”
“Anything new?” Matt asked, as they watched Gus personally speed the process of returning Randy’s weapon then engage the man in conversation.
“Same as last time. Trying to provoke me.” Nate gestured toward the corral some yards away, eager to get his horse and head out of town. “You ready to-”
Suddenly Haze stomped off, heading in the direction of the livery. Fresh impatience flooded Nate. Unwilling to suffer a second encounter with Randy, he became a statue, tracking the other man with a hooded glare until he entered the building.
“Hell.”
“Best to avoid him,” Matt cautioned.
“I do. The man does not like me.”
“Because of Faith?”
“I guess.” Nate stepped out into the street, restless. “But why? She chose him.”
“Some men never warm to their wife’s first love.”
Nate kicked a rock. “Keen observation, Lawman.”
“I aim to please.”
Randy walked outside, leading his bay horse before Nate could reply. The shopkeeper looked at them and smirked before swinging up into the saddle. Without further incident, he rode away, heading out of town on the road leading to Fir Mountain.
“Let’s get out of here.” Nate didn’t wait for agreement. On edge, he needed to move. His long strides ate the short distance to the corral.
“What’s your rush? If we hurry we’ll catch up to Haze.”
“I need to get out of this town to where I can breathe.”
Nate didn’t pause, moving quickly past the split-rail fence and into the livery, not stopping until he reached the stall with his horse, Jack. With swift, sure movements, he readied the gelding for travel. Matt followed his lead, whistling, while he worked in the next stall. The men were back outside and mounted within minutes. They rode out of Silver Falls City at a brisk walk, an appropriate pace for moving through the outskirts of a heavily populated town, yet frustratingly slow, in his opinion.
“You told Evans you’re suspicious of Haze.”
“And you’re wondering why?”
“Last time we talked, you weren’t.”
Several seconds passed. They continued forward, following