Page 50 of In Honor’s Defense

He was about to sound the retreat in order to fight another day when the door opened and a familiar pair of boots strode inside.

“Jonesy? Ya here? I got that bill of sale you been pesterin’ me about. Signed it over at the lawyer’s office. Ink’s probably still damp.”

Harland Jones, the clerk, got up from his desk behind the counter and held out his hand to collect the paper. “Thank you, Mr. Grimes. I’ll get it recorded this afternoon.”

Luke straightened his hunched-over posture and lifted a hand in greeting as Oliver Grimes turned. His former employer’s eyes widened in surprise a moment before a smile split his tanned face.

“Davenport! Glad to see ya still in town.” He moseyed over to the table and extended a hand. Luke shook it. “I don’t guess you’re feeling up to chasing rustlers again, are ya? My beeves are still missin’.”

Luke shook his head. “Sorry. This is my first day back in the saddle, and I ’bout wore myself out just gettin’ to town. I won’t be in rustler-chasing shape for at least another week. Maybe more.” He shifted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. An impossible proposition, he’d learned over the last hour, but one he couldn’t seem to stop himself from attempting every few minutes. “Sheriff Conley hasn’t uncovered any new leads?”

Grimes rolled his eyes. “Conley wouldn’t be able to find his badge if it weren’t pinned to his vest. Why d’ya think I was so desperate to hire the Horsemen?” He blew out a breath and apparently his temper with it. “Conley handles town matters well enough, I s’pose. Keeps the peace and kisses enough babies to get himself reelected. He just don’t do much for those of us outside the city limits.”

Luke understood Grimes’s frustration, but he also understood the challenge of one man overseeing an entire county. The sheriff couldn’t be everywhere at once, though Luke had hoped the descriptions he’d provided of the rustlers would have garnered more fruit.

“Any new cows go missing since the night I was attacked?”

“Nah.” Grimes massaged the back of his neck. “I guess I should be thankful you scared ’em off. I hate to think of the money I’ll lose from those ten beeves, though. It sours my stomach.”

Luke nodded in sympathy. Ten prime cattle at market could mean the difference between a lean year and a prosperous one.

Grimes glanced at the papers strewn over the table in front of Luke, and his gaze sharpened. “What’s all this?”

“Lookin’ into a land development company called Harbinger. Trying to determine how much land they’ve bought up in the area and where it’s located.”

Grimes scowled. “They make that Baxter woman an offer? She ain’t sellin’ to them, is she? Dad-burn it. It ain’t fair. That land should’ve been mine.”

“Cool your kettle, Grimes.” Luke shot a glance at the peeping office clerk, who quickly ducked his head and resumed his work. Pushing to his feet, Luke stepped close to the hotheaded rancher and lowered his voice to a murmur. “She ain’t sellin’ to anyone. You need to let it go. Heed the tenth commandment.”

“I did let it go. Today, as a matter of fact. That’s what got me so worked up. I thought fate had tricked me, giving that land to the very company I just sold to.”

Luke’s chest tightened. “You sold your ranch to Harbinger?”

“Just a small strip along the eastern property line. When Doug’s sister refused my offer, I resigned myself to not being able to expand my holdings in that direction. Harbinger has been after me to sell for the past few months. I turned ’em down. Until they came back with a counteroffer last week. They offered to swap acreage with me, giving me two hundred and forty acres bordering my property on the west in exchange for a strip of eighty acres on the east. The land to the west ain’t as well-watered, but there’s patches of prairie grass that would allow for expandin’ my herd. And with three times as many acres, it didn’t make sense to refuse.”

The Baxter land lay directly east of Grimes’s property. If Harbinger had bought the east section from Grimes, then they wouldn’t give up easily in obtaining Nate’s land.

Grimes bent over the table and started riffling through the papers Luke had sorted. “Hmm. Looks like Harbinger is buying up land between here and Navasota.”

Luke peered at the papers again, but he still couldn’t make out any patterns. “How can you tell?”

“Here’s a bill of sale from Carson Howser. I used to ride by his place on my way home before he decided to move to town.” He tapped a second paper with his pointer finger. “And this is Old Zeb’s place. He ran a small outfit south of here. His daughter married a farrier from Midway and moved there about five years back. Zeb’s wife’s been wantin’ to move closer to them ever since. I guess Harbinger managed to sweeten the pot enough to bribe old Zeb into givin’ the wife what she wanted.”

Grimes chuckled, but Luke didn’t see anything funny.

What he finally saw was a pattern. A line stretching from Navasota to Madisonville. A line that probably meant a future railroad. And if Damaris and Nate were the only holdouts, things could get ugly real fast.

“Aunt Maris!”

Damaris brushed the dirt from her garden gloves and pushed to her feet, letting the weed she’d been battling claim a temporary victory. Shading her eyes with a hand to her forehead, she searched the road for her nephew. She spotted him on the drive, waving something over his head.

“Aunt Maris! We got a telegram!”

Catching his excitement, Damaris abandoned her weeding tools and hurried down the row between the carrots and summer squash. She’d just closed the garden gate when Nathaniel reached her. His cheeks had reddened from his run, and his breath came in labored huffs, but his eyes danced with anticipation.

They’d received a letter from her mother a few weeks after Damaris arrived, and one rather ill-humored note from Great-Aunt Bertha full of complaints about being abandoned, but not much else. Certainly not a telegram. Her belly fluttered even as her mind spun, trying to imagine who could have sent it.

Nathaniel held out the small yellow envelope. “The lady from the post office said it was for Mr. Davenport, too. Should I fetch him?”