Page 108 of Branded

“Got back yesterday.” I move closer, keeping my body language casual. “How’ve things been here? Any problems while I was gone?”

“No, sir. Everything’s been smooth. Pete’s got us running a tight schedule.”

“Good. That’s good.” I lean against the stall door. “Pete tells me you’re one of our better hands. Says you’ve got a real talent with horses.”

“Thank you, sir. I try.”

“How long have you been with us now? Six months?”

“About that, yes, sir. I started in the fall, to help with roundup.”

“You like working here? Feel like part of the team?” I ask. I lean against the stall door.

Something flickers in his expression. Wariness, maybe? “Yes, sir. It’s a good operation. Fair pay, good conditions. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“Grateful enough to be loyal? To protect what we’ve built here?”

“Of course, Mr. Drake. I wouldn’t—” He stops, seeing my expression change.

“Wouldn’t what, Adam? Wouldn’t betray us? Wouldn’t sell information to our enemies? Wouldn’t set up an ambush that got my father shot?”

The color drains from his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” I straighten, and Nathaniel appears in the doorway with Pete and the others. Blocking Adam’s exit. “You made a phone call the night before the raid. Thirty seconds. To a number registered to the Marshalls’ ranch. What did you tell them?”

“Nothing! I didn’t, it wasn’t—” He’s backing up now. The mare senses his panic and shifts nervously.

“Don’t lie to me.” My voice goes cold. I want to yell, but we’ll have a mess on our hands if this horse gets spooked. “We have the phone records. We have the number. We know you talked to them. So the only question is, what exactly did you say?”

“Mr. Drake, please.”

“What. Did. You. Say.”

His back hits the far wall of the stall. Trapped. “They approached me. Said they knew things about my family, about my past. Said they’d make problems for me if I didn’t help them.”

“So you chose to betray us instead?”

“I didn’t have a choice! They were going to, they said…” He’s shaking now. “They said they’d hurt my little sister. She’s only sixteen. Lives in town with my mom. They knew where she goes to school, what route she walks home. They showed me pictures of her.”

“So you gave them information about our raid. Told them when we’d be coming, which routes we’d take, how many men.” Nathaniel’s voice is hard. “You set up your own crew to be ambushed.”

“I didn’t know they’d actually shoot anyone! I thought, I thought they’d just…” Adam slides down the wall, his face in his hands. “I thought they’d scare you off. Make you back down. Not actually hurt anyone.”

“My father has a bullet wound that says otherwise.” I grab Adam by his shirt, haul him to his feet. “You almost got people killed. Good men. Your friends. The people who trusted you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean⁠—”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this.” I shove him against the wall. “Who contacted you? Who’s your handler at the Marshalls?”

“I don’t know his name; he just calls himself T. Calls from different numbers, always burner phones. Says if I don’t cooperate, my sister⁠—”

“Where’s your sister now?”

“Home. In Madera. Why?”

I pull out my phone, call Caroline. “I need security on a sixteen-year-old girl in Madera. Adam’s sister. Name?”

“Kayla,” Adam whispers. “Kayla Johnson.”