Jase sat down at the kitchen table across from his older brother. “What is it?” They’d slept in late, and he was anxious to make certain his horse had gotten through the night without a problem.
“The doc.” Cole pushed his hands through his hair, leaving it spiked and disheveled. “I checked the weather, and it looks like we’ll be socked in for at least a week.”
“She’ll have to stay here?” Jase couldn’t prevent the grin from spreading across his face. “I don’t mind. I think the doc’s all right.”
“She loves Christmas, Jase, and she’ll be stuck here with us probably through the twenty-fifth. She’ll miss it.” Cole didn’t look at the boy, but stood up and paced across the room in a restless, edgy movement. “She came out here doing us a favor, she’s stuck working; in fact she’s already out with Celtic High”—he glanced briefly at Jase, assessing his expression—“I mean Wally. I don’t know, what do you think we should do?”
Jase rubbed his hand over his face, subconsciously copying his older brother’s gestures. “Anything to eat around here?” He looked around the room, anywhere but at his brother. “I’m starving, and it smells good in here.”
“You’re always starving. She made breakfast burritos for us. You just scoop up the eggs and wrap them in the tortilla. The tortillas are still warm.”
Jase made his burrito, took a healthy bite, and sat there chewing, contemplating. “I don’t know, Cole. What do you think? She’s really nice. Maybe we could put up a tree or something.”
Cole had his back to the boy, and he closed his eyes, his gut kicking up a protest. His ear was finely trained, tuned to catch the slightest nuances, and he could hear the combination of hesitancy and hope. “We’ve never done that before, either one of us. It might be interesting. The old man would turn over in his grave.”
“As long as he stays in it,” Jase said.
Cole turned back to face him. “I saw the body, Jase. He’s dead.” Cole didn’t admit he had insisted on seeing the body. He wouldn’t have believed anything or anyone would ever manage to kill Brett Steele. The man had seemed invincible, a monster with such power he could live forever. Jase had been in the house when the old man had bought it. Cole tried to push the thought away. Jase wasn’t capable of murder—not even of a monster like their father, was he? That niggling doubt persisted no matter how hard Cole worked at keeping it at bay.
“Who do you think killed him, Cole?”
“It could have been anyone. He had a lot of enemies,” Cole answered honestly, feeling relieved that there were other suspects. “I think the question we need answered is why someone killed him. Did it have anything to do with us? The ranch? The money? Anything that could affect us.”
“I didn’t think of that. Why would it have something to do with us?”
Cole shrugged. “I don’t know, but it bothers me that all these rumors are so persistent, the ones about me trying to do you in. Al mentioned you were helping him feed horses the other day, and you leaned against the fence in the corner and it gave way. If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have gone over that small cliff. You often lean up against that section when you watch the horses run. I’ve seen you do it.”
Cole had personally gone out to inspect the fence. Someone had deliberately loosened the post from the cement. The fall wouldn’t have killed Jase, but it might have broken a bone or two. What had been the point? Any of the new hands could have done it. Cole had hired them out of Jackson Hole, but that didn’t mean they might not be friends with the former crew. Al had even mentioned that his brother-in-law, Fred, had been around that day.
“Al said the fence was old and needed repairing.”
“Maybe. But now there’s this incident with Wally. Don’t you think it’s strange my glove was found by the fence? I haven’t been out there in a week, and my work gloves are always in my truck. I don’t believe in coincidence. The old man was murdered, and, even though these incidents seem unrelated, I’m not so certain they are.”
Jase sagged in his chair. “I was thinking the same thing.” He looked at Cole, fear in his eyes. “But I was thinking maybe it was him. I know it’s crazy, Cole, but what if he found a way to come back? I read a couple of books on the subject, and some people believe a spirit can linger after death, especially if the death was violent.”
“That’s a load of crap, Jase. He’s dead and gone.”