Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

under his breath. They were all dead but one-a
newborn calf stumbled about, trying to rise on
wobbly knees.
    "Dammit," he said, opening the gate and stepping inside. It had been a mistake to pen the cattle so far from the house, but this was the only
pen large enough to hold them until they could
be branded.
    He looked at the gruesome sight and smelled
the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh.
    Taking a cleansing breath, he removed the bandanna from his neck and tied it so it would cover
his nose. He had to get close enough to the cattle
so he could determine what had killed them.

    Opening the gate, he moved to the closest carcass
and knelt down beside it. The belly was bloated,
and there was foam around the mouth. He examined another animal and found it had died
with the same symptoms.

    Standing up, Gabe felt rage coil inside him at
the senseless destruction. Some person with a
twisted mind had ordered this carnage. The condition of the carcasses told its own tale-the cattle
had probably been poisoned, and he had to find
out how.
    Removing his bandanna and tying it back
around his neck, he walked to the drinking
trough and scooped water into his cupped hand.
It certainly smelled pure enough-he brought it
to his mouth and touched his tongue to it and
found that there was no bitter taste. If these cattle
had been poisoned, it certainly hadn't been from
the water.
    Puzzled, he examined another body. The cows
had most certainly not died of natural causes;
their deaths had been deliberate. His jaw tightened when his searching gaze fell on a strange-
looking plant near the fence. He stooped to pick
it up and recognized what it was at once.
    Careless weed!
    The plant was a rancher's worst nightmare. The
strange thing about the weed was that if it was
eaten green, it was harmless; but eaten dry, it released a noxious poison. Careless weed did not grow in this part of Texas, so someone had
brought it there.

    He glanced around and saw several other
clumps of the dried weed. Whoever had done this
knew exactly what he was doing. And Gabe knew
without a doubt who that someone was. Cyrus
would not have dirtied his hands with the poisoning, but the orders would have come from him
all the same. The deed had probably been carried
out by the foreman of the Casa Mesa ranch, Ira
Teague; that coldhearted bastard would follow Cyrus's orders without question.
    Gabe watched a buzzard tear at the flesh of one
of the animals-the bird would probably die from
eating the poisoned flesh, but no one mourned
the death of a scavenger. In his own way Cyrus
was a scavenger who existed on other people's
misery.
    Gabe knew just how Cyrus would go about getting rid of his adversaries-he would start small,
pick at them and feed on their wretchedness-
then he would apply more pressure and torment
them. The more his enemy suffered, the more
pressure Cyrus would apply, and the more pleasure he would derive from it. Cyrus was the only
person Gabe knew who possessed no redeeming
qualities whatsoever.
    "So it's begun," he said, picking up the newborn calf and mounting his horse.
    Cyrus had struck sooner than he had expected.

    It was time for Gabe to pay him a visit at Casa
Mesa.

    Kate was instructing the store's handyman how to
load supplies in the wagon when Casey and Jenny
approached. "Where's Sam?" she asked, fitting a
crate of apples under the spring seat.
    "He's talking to the blacksmith about shoeing
one of the mares. Jenny is hungry, so I think I'd
better find her something to eat."
    Kate hopped down from the wagon and nodded at the man. "Keep an eye on our supplies,
and when a young man named Sam comes along
asking for us, direct him to Betsy's Tearoom."
    The tearoom turned out to be something of a
surprise to Casey. She hadn't seen the building
when they came into town because it was located
behind the bank. It was white with green shutters,
and had window boxes with some kind of plant
with purple