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Westley slid into the booth across from me, and I was grateful for the table between us. After what had just happened in that shower, I needed all the distance I could get. I wrapped my hands around the hot mug, letting the warmth ground me, and tried to focus on the menu even though I’d ordered the same thing here a hundred times.
“You two look like you had a rough night,” Dolly observed as she set down a basket of warm biscuits with a small crock of butter. “Everything alright?”
“Just needed to get away from the ranch for a bit,” Westley said smoothly, reaching for a biscuit. “Clear our heads.”
Before Dolly could press for more details, the bell above the diner door chimed. Sheriff Webb walked in, his hat already in his hands, his face drawn with concern. He spotted Dolly immediately and made his way over, his boots heavy on the tile floor.
“Mornin’, Dolly,” he said, then nodded to us. “Westley. Rhett.”
“Sheriff,” Westley greeted him, and I echoed the sentiment, my stomach tightening slightly. Marcus Webb wasn’t a bad sort, but he had a way of making me nervous just by being in the room.
“Just came to let you know that we don’t have any more leads on your things, Dolly,” the sheriff said, tipping his head in shame. “I’m tryin’ to figure out who’s takin’ things, but I just can’t seem to track them down.”
Westley furrowed his brows. “Did you get robbed, Dolly?”
“No, nothin’ like that,” she replied, giving him a reassuring smile. “Just had a few things come up missin’.”
“Not just her,” Marcus added. “But quite a few people in town. There were some minor thefts across town before the tornado hit. Then it sorta died down for a while. But now it’s picked up again. It’s nothin’ too valuable usually, just little things that could be pawned off for a few dollars. But by now the person who’s takin’ them must have made at least a couple thousand dollars.”
“That’s a lot of money for a lot of folks around here,” Westley nodded.
“Any idea who it might be?” I asked.
Sheriff Webb just shrugged. “They have small feet and aren’t too heavy judging by the tracks, and they know the area well. That’s about all we have at this point.”
“Aunt Dolly,” I said, shooting her a sly grin. “Is it you? You’re small and you’ve got small feet.”
“Rhett Levi!” she laughed, swatting me with a towel. “Don’t go gettin’ me in trouble with the law!” She straightened up a bit, throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder and puffing her chest out. “Besides, I’m a little top heavy to leave shallow tracks like that.”
Westley and the sheriff began to laugh, but I just leaned forward, pressing my forehead to the table in embarrassment.
“Oh my god…”
Chapter 6
Rhett
The morning had started fine, which should’ve told me something bad was coming.
We’d been at the vaccinations since sunup, working the cattle chute in that rhythm you fall into when you’ve done a job a thousand times before. Catch, hold, jab, release, next. My arms ached, and my shirt was soaked through with sweat and cow slobber, but I didn’t mind the work. It was the company that always seemed to sour things.
“Rhett, you gonna hold that calf or you gonna pet it?” Chuck called out from across the pen, his voice carrying that particular sneer he saved just for me. “Careful now, don’t want you gettin’ too attached.”
The other hands snickered. Bobby Ray and Boomer exchanged a look before Bobby Ray added, “Maybe he just likes havin’ his hands on somethin’ warm and squirmin’.”
I kept my eyes on the calf in front of me, my jaw tight enough to crack a walnut. I’d learned a long time ago that the best thing to do was just keep working, keep my head down, let it roll off me like water off a duck’s ass. That’s what Aunt Dolly always told me to do. Don’t give them the satisfaction.
“Y’all got somethin’ better to do than run your mouths?” I said, my voice flatter than I felt. “This chute ain’t gonna work itself.”
“Ooh, listen to him,” Chuck laughed, tipping his hat back. “Got some sass on him today. What’s the matter, sweetheart? Westley not around to protect you?”
“Is that what you two were out doin’ all weekend by the creek?” Boomer sneered. “Takin’ turns cornholin’ each other?”
My hands froze on the calf’s flank for just a second too long.
“There it is,” Chuck said, grinning like he’d found gold. “Y’all see that? Boy about jumped outta his skin. I bet that’s exactly it. I bet he’s sweet on the boss’s son. Ain’t that somethin’. Ol’ Rhett Levi mooning over Westley Gilderoy like some little lovesick—”
“Shut your damn mouth, Chuck.”
