has changed. But if you had a solid alibi, you wouldn’t have any need for a lawyer.” A tiny frown creased the middle of her forehead. “So where did you go after you looked at the horse?”
He swallowed more of the coffee, which reminded Isabella that hers was getting cold. She reached for her cup and took a dainty sip.
“I went to another ranch. The Double X, just north of here. Someone had told me that the owner thought he’d spotted my missing stallion a few days before.”
“Did you talk to him?”
Ross shook his head. “No. No one was home. So I drove back here, saddled Juggler and went to check on the cattle in the south flats.”
“Who went with you?”
“No one. I went alone.”
Her eyes widened at this bit of information. “Is that normal? For you to ride out alone?”
He chuckled as though he found her question inane, but Isabella knew it wouldn’t be so funny if he found himself on a witness stand.
“Look, Bella, the T Bar K is a big spread. And though I’ve got a bunkhouse full of hands, we’re still sometimes spread thin. If I can do a job alone, I do it.”
As Isabella watched him pop the last piece of cookie into his mouth, she felt certain that Ross Ketchum was being honest with her. But her opinion didn’t count in a court of law. He needed an alibi.
“I’m sorry, Ross, but I’m merely asking you what any good prosecutor would want to know.”
He left his seat and placed his empty cup on the serving tray. Then turning to face her, he looped his thumbs over the wide leather belt at his waist. “Okay,” he said, “I can’t account for my whereabouts. But that doesn’t make me guilty.”
“No,” she agreed. “It just makes you unlucky.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Rising from the couch, she walked over to where he stood by the desk. After placing her coffee cup next to his, she looked up at him.
“I’m going to figure out who really did this thing.”
Ross couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “Sure. One little woman is going to do what the whole San Juan County sheriffs’ department can’t seem to accomplish.”
She didn’t allow his laughter to get to her. After all, her boast probably did sound ridiculous. But he was a white man. He wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain that Naomi had told her that the truth would appear to Isabella. And her godmother had never told her a wrong thing.
“I’m Apache,” she said with solemn pride. “We’re tenacious hunters. We don’t give up until we get our prey.”
Humor creased his cheeks and danced in his green eyes. “Okay, so where do you intend to start on this great hunting trip?”
A provocative smile suddenly curved the corners of her lips. “I think the best place to start would be your bedroom.”
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