throat when Hart McGill’s picture came up. He stared at it long and hard. They had upped the reward another five hundred dollars. The worthless being was overvalued. When he thought of Owen Cantrell, shot in the back walking through his own front door, it turned his stomach. Owen had been gunned down for no reason other than because he was Cade’s friend. The image of Bess Cantrell, grief stricken as she was carried away from the graveside by her two sons, would stay with Cade for as long as he lived.
Pushing bitterness aside, Cade moved to the window and thought of more pressing matters. If Hart got wind that Cade had loved ones in Winterborn, their lives would be worthless. He’d talk to Seth and Bonnie about getting the kids settled as quickly as possible.
The back door opened and Pop returned, carefully easing onto the nearest chair and releasing a sigh. “That was close.”
Cade grinned and sat down. “You going to live?” Pop’s face was white as a sheet, his strength obviously drained.
“For a few minutes…never know when the next bout will strike. You here for any particular reason? Thought you’d be busy with the kids.”
“Actually, I did have a reason for stopping by. The roof’s leaking like a sieve, and I’m not looking forward to sleeping in a wet bed again. I could move the bunk, but the roof’s dripping in so many places that it wouldn’t do any good. I can see daylight through the cracks.”
“Yeah, I know about the leaks. Just haven’t had time, money, or manpower to fix ’em.”
“You’re in no shape to fix anything right now.”
Pop moaned. “That’s a fact. How are you and the redhead gettin’ along?”
“We’re not. I need to finish my business quickly and move on.”
“Too bad. Zoe needs a man like you—someone who won’t let her run roughshod over him. Jim was too patient. Zoe got the best of him at times—” Pop’s expression corkscrewed. “Hooboy. Nature calls.” He bolted toward the door calling over his shoulder, “Don’t leave! I got a favor to ask.”
While Pop was tending business, Cade browsed through the gun cabinet. He took out a Henry lever action rifle and examined it. The guns hadn’t been used for some time. They needed a good cleaning.
“Whew, doggies!” Pop said, entering the room again. “If I ever look at another piece of gooseberry pie, shoot me.”
Cade slipped the Henry back into the cabinet. “You need a favor?”
“I’ve got a problem over in the next county, but I’m not in any shape to go. Thought you might take care of it for me.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Hague Pearson got all liquored up a couple of nights ago and got shot. Someone needs to go over and bring his body back.”
Cade frowned. “Hague Pearson? The old hermit who lives near the county line?”
Pop nodded. “That’s him. Me and Mooney Adams got a bet going. You remember old Mooney, sheriff of Suffox County?”
“I remember Mooney. Mean, but honest.”
“Whoever has the least crime on his record at the end of each year wins a prize. It ain’t much, more like a prestige thing. We ain’t got any crime here in Winterborn, so it’s a pretty sure bet I’ll win, but Hague could put a kink in the plan. I want you to take the buckboard over there, pick up the body, and decide exactly where Hague got shot. Mooney says Hague was shot on our side of the line and dropped dead on his side. I say Hague was shot in Suffox County, period. I don’t want that death on my record, and Mooney don’t want it on his.”
“I’m guessing Hague didn’t want it on anybody’s record.”
Pop chuckled. “Don’t mean no disrespect. Hague was an ornery sort, but he always let me hunt on his property. I’ll see he gets buried proper-like. I’d be much obliged if you’d drive over there and get it sorted out for me.”
“Sounds like a good way to get shot.”
“Nah, Mooney knows he’s in the wrong. He’s just trying to win that prize.”
“I’m
Pushing bitterness aside, Cade moved to the window and thought of more pressing matters. If Hart got wind that Cade had loved ones in Winterborn, their lives would be worthless. He’d talk to Seth and Bonnie about getting the kids settled as quickly as possible.
The back door opened and Pop returned, carefully easing onto the nearest chair and releasing a sigh. “That was close.”
Cade grinned and sat down. “You going to live?” Pop’s face was white as a sheet, his strength obviously drained.
“For a few minutes…never know when the next bout will strike. You here for any particular reason? Thought you’d be busy with the kids.”
“Actually, I did have a reason for stopping by. The roof’s leaking like a sieve, and I’m not looking forward to sleeping in a wet bed again. I could move the bunk, but the roof’s dripping in so many places that it wouldn’t do any good. I can see daylight through the cracks.”
“Yeah, I know about the leaks. Just haven’t had time, money, or manpower to fix ’em.”
“You’re in no shape to fix anything right now.”
Pop moaned. “That’s a fact. How are you and the redhead gettin’ along?”
“We’re not. I need to finish my business quickly and move on.”
“Too bad. Zoe needs a man like you—someone who won’t let her run roughshod over him. Jim was too patient. Zoe got the best of him at times—” Pop’s expression corkscrewed. “Hooboy. Nature calls.” He bolted toward the door calling over his shoulder, “Don’t leave! I got a favor to ask.”
While Pop was tending business, Cade browsed through the gun cabinet. He took out a Henry lever action rifle and examined it. The guns hadn’t been used for some time. They needed a good cleaning.
“Whew, doggies!” Pop said, entering the room again. “If I ever look at another piece of gooseberry pie, shoot me.”
Cade slipped the Henry back into the cabinet. “You need a favor?”
“I’ve got a problem over in the next county, but I’m not in any shape to go. Thought you might take care of it for me.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Hague Pearson got all liquored up a couple of nights ago and got shot. Someone needs to go over and bring his body back.”
Cade frowned. “Hague Pearson? The old hermit who lives near the county line?”
Pop nodded. “That’s him. Me and Mooney Adams got a bet going. You remember old Mooney, sheriff of Suffox County?”
“I remember Mooney. Mean, but honest.”
“Whoever has the least crime on his record at the end of each year wins a prize. It ain’t much, more like a prestige thing. We ain’t got any crime here in Winterborn, so it’s a pretty sure bet I’ll win, but Hague could put a kink in the plan. I want you to take the buckboard over there, pick up the body, and decide exactly where Hague got shot. Mooney says Hague was shot on our side of the line and dropped dead on his side. I say Hague was shot in Suffox County, period. I don’t want that death on my record, and Mooney don’t want it on his.”
“I’m guessing Hague didn’t want it on anybody’s record.”
Pop chuckled. “Don’t mean no disrespect. Hague was an ornery sort, but he always let me hunt on his property. I’ll see he gets buried proper-like. I’d be much obliged if you’d drive over there and get it sorted out for me.”
“Sounds like a good way to get shot.”
“Nah, Mooney knows he’s in the wrong. He’s just trying to win that prize.”
“I’m
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