Oregon Outback by Elizabeth Goddard

enormous. But she’d let Carver have his say.
    “Out here, ranchers leave their cattle in the wide open range to graze for months on end. We expect to find a few missing, but that’s due to natural causes. Wolves. Disease. A few might wander off, but not far from the rest. We always find them alive, or we find their carcasses. That said, we’re missing a hundred head.”
    Ouch
. Sheridan winced. “That’s a devastating loss.”
    “We searched for them as long as we could, but finally brought the rest of the cattle, including those grazing on the southern border of the ranch, closer. I’ve been on the phone all morning, calling other ranchers to see if they’ve lost any.”
    “And?” Sheridan was agitated. If rustlers were out there, she needed to hear from the others as well.
    “Some are riding out to check. Others won’t know until the fall gathering. But nobody is admitting anything yet.”
    “What do you mean,
admitting
anything?”
    “I mean, ranchers are a prideful bunch. If I’d had only a few cows stolen, I probably wouldn’t have said anything to you.”
    Sheridan pushed to her feet, leaving the rocking chair to creak on its own. Maybe that was part of Carver’s problem. He was a rancher. Prideful was an understatement. “Why on earth not?”
    Carver rose, matching Sheridan’s stance. “Because they were stolen from under my nose. You know how that makes me look?”
    “They were miles away. How is that right under your nose?”
    Carver paced the porch. She’d never seen him like this. He’d always maintained his composure.
    “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
    “It has to be someone who knows how to live on a horse for days at a time, driving cattle. Knows the region. Someone we know right here.”
    She sucked in a breath. “How soon can you be ready to take me to the crime scene?”
    Carver stared at her blank-faced, then broke out laughing. “Where my cattle graze isn’t a place you can drive to.”
    Sheridan could easily translate. “Are you saying that because I’m a woman you can’t take me to look at the evidence?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
    Sheridan chewed on the colorful words she wanted to spew. “You are a piece of work, you know that?”
    Oh, she did not just say that. If she was going to act the professional, she had to rein in her emotions.
    Carver shoved his hands through his hair, oblivious to her comment. “I can show you where the cattle were on a map. They could have driven the cows for days until they reached a highway where they loaded them on a truck. By now, they could be on their way to Arkansas or selling them anywhere brands don’t matter.”
    The man was frustrated, feeling helpless to do anything. Sheridan wanted to reach over and squeeze his shoulder. To reassure him. But what was she thinking? That last time she’d done that, touching his forehead where he’d earned a souvenir for landing in the ditch, a bolt of electricity had shot through her.
    Instead, she moved to the porch railing and stared at the vast ranchland. The place was beautiful, peaceful, and secluded.
    She turned and leaned against the whitewashed banister, attempting a softer tone. “I don’t see you as the sort of man to give up.” That was definitely something she admired about him.
    “I never said I was giving up.”
    “I want to know what you’re planning.”
    “They could have taken the cattle somewhere remote, grazing them until the calves are weaned. If that’s the case, I’ll find them.” Carver seemed to transform right in front of her, his expression steel. “Either way, this isn’t a job for you. You don’t have enough manpower to help. I just thought you should know in case this turns out to be a bigger problem. More ranchers involved.”
    Sheridan dropped her arms to her side, getting the distinct impression he’d dismissed her. She worried the man would find the rustlers, confronting them alone. “Don’t take on these men without the law,