Texas Grit. Barb Han

would we do that? I’ll check dry storage to see if we have a can of coffee hiding in there. She’ll never know. Besides, we’re all grown. We can do for ourselves.” She would take it to heart. Feel like she’d let them down in some way. It was just coffee, but May wouldn’t see it that way. May had always done everything for them when they were kids. May was a saint.

      “Where were you tonight?” Ella had taken to prying in everyone’s business since their father’s murder and the subsequent crimes against the family.

      “There was a disturbance in town and I got distracted.” He searched for pain relievers to stem the dull headache focused in the center of his forehead.

      “What happened? Are you okay?” There was so much worry in her voice now. The reason was understandable, but Dade could take care of himself.

      “Nothing that involved me directly. I helped a friend,” he conceded, taking a seat across from Ella.

      “You’re sure about that?” Fear widened her eyes.

      “Certain. Carrie Palmer had a run-in with a festival worker. I took her to file a complaint.” The world would know tomorrow anyway. There was no sense in hiding it.

      Ella glanced at her bowl of ice cream and started to speak.

      “Have you heard from Cadence?” He changed the subject, not yet ready to discuss Carrie with his sister. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling toward her other than a strong urge to protect her.

      “She’s still down with the flu and, honestly, with everything going on around here, it’s probably best she’s out of town until the hysteria dies down.” Ella pushed around the ball of ice cream in her bowl.

      “What she did to Madelyn was inexcusable—”

      Ella was already nodding in agreement. Leaving a threatening message to try to force Madelyn out of town was a low blow. “Our baby sister messed up. I’m just grateful Madelyn has found it in her heart to forgive Cadence. Their relationship still has a long way to go but they’re making progress, talking almost every day.”

      “I’m guessing their reconciliation has a lot to do with you,” Dade pointed out.

      “With everything this family has been through we need each other now more than ever.” Ella’s heart was always big and her judgment sound.

      “There’s no rush for me but Ed can’t read Dad’s will until we’re all present. He also said the date’s been set,” Dade informed. Ed Staples was the family’s lawyer and longtime friend of their father. Some people might say that Ed was Maverick Mike’s only true confidant.

      “Ed told me, too.” Ella rolled the spoon through her ice cream.

      He eyed the label. It came from Carrie’s Cold Treats.

      “Ed said there was some kind of stipulation.” Dade didn’t care a hill of beans about what he stood to inherit. The only reason he cared about the will was because there might be a revelation in it that could blow open the investigation and bring their father’s killer to justice. It sat hard on his chest that his father had been murdered on the ranch, that someone had had access and had wanted to prove they could do whatever they wanted at Maverick Mike’s home. What did that say about security? About Dade and his brother? Early on, folks had speculated that Andrea Caldwell, the Mav’s girlfriend, had shot him in his sleep. Dade hadn’t taken the rumor seriously. Andrea was a sweet person. She might not be able to take care of herself but she wouldn’t hurt a fly. It wasn’t her nature.

      “Wish I knew what he was talking about,” Ella admitted. “Do you?”

      “Guess we’ll learn together.” Dade filled a water glass and drained it. “When does Holden get here?”

      “A couple of days,” she said, her eyes getting a little spark in them when she referred to her fiancé. “He’s closing out his accounts in Virginia so he can move here. I wanted to go with him, but he thought I’d feel better if I stayed on the ranch while everything’s been so crazy.”

      “He’s probably right,” Dade agreed.

      Ella stood, moved to the sink and rinsed out her bowl before placing it in the dishwasher. “Guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

      “I’ll see you in the morning,” Dade said. By the time he returned to the kitchen with a can of ground coffee, Ella had gone to bed. It was late. A shower and the idea of sleep won out over making coffee.

      After climbing in bed, Dade drew the covers up. His mind drifted to the last gift from his father, a fishing rod. Not just any fishing rod, but the one he’d wanted as a kid. There’d been a note, too. One that Dade had balled up and tossed into a drawer without reading. He’d been filled with anger and figured one small gesture couldn’t wipe away the abuse Dade had suffered at his father’s hands. Now he’d never have another chance to make things right with the old man. To add insult to injury, the note had gone missing.

      The sheriff was no closer to making an arrest now than he’d been a week ago. There were too many leads and too many distractions between the media and others who’d descended on Cattle Barge. Claims of paternity or debts owed from Maverick Mike were through the roof. Only one paternity claim had panned out so far, and Madelyn Kensington had arrived at the ranch seeming even less thrilled with the news than the Butlers had been.

      Rather than chew on those unproductive nuggets, Dade flipped onto his back. He’d been in bed long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dark, so he stared up at the ceiling, at the texture he’d heard his sisters describe as orange peel. The pattern stretched from wall to wall.

      Out of nowhere, Dade felt hemmed in. He used to love having his own wing in the main house, but now it felt like a cage.

      Tonight must be the night for fruitless thoughts, because his mind turned to Carrie and how good it had been to see her again. He told himself it was her safety that had him wanting to check on her in the morning when he had work to do.

      What time did her sweet shop open? He picked up his phone on the nightstand and glanced at the time. One o’clock in the morning. Work started in three hours. He thumbed the internet icon and then entered the name of her shop.

      She opened at eleven o’clock, which meant she probably arrived by seven or eight to prep for the day.

      The festival worker should be long gone by then. Shouldn’t he? It was probably the brush with death two of his sisters had had recently that had Dade’s mind twisting over his thoughts, concerned about Carrie.

      Because what if Nash had left that rose? What did that say about the man’s intentions?