Page 26 of Cowboys Next Door

Connor merely shrugs and shakes his head with a sigh.

“She’s not wanted for murder?”

Connor lets out a snort. “Nope, definitely not a murderer. I haven’t come across anything suggesting she’s here for any sinister purposes.”

I gnaw on the insides of my cheeks. “I mean, it is possible that she’s trying to curry favor with her long-lost grandmother.”

“To get in the will?” Connor agrees, snapping his fingers as if to indicate a eureka moment.

“Or… just because she’s trying to connect with her family,” I offer instead. “Whatever the case, we need to watch her and make sure that Katherine isn’t being conned.”

Connor bobs his head in agreement. “I’ll be over there as much as I can. That’s why I agreed to assist in this.”

“Me too. If Hudson had given it a moment of thought without being his typical stubborn self, he might have done the same,” I comment.

He gives me a skeptical look. “Any particular reason that I wasn’t originally asked to join you guys tonight?”

I turn my head to look outside, inhaling slowly. I can’t say for certain, but I suspect that Katherine didn’t feel right about asking Connor for help because he has no stake in the BB—while Hudson and I would, presumably, eventually benefit from the renovations.

“Didn’t Miss Katherine already tell you her reasoning?” I reply instead. “You have your own land to look after.”

“So do you. So does Hudson.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Con. Ask Rose.”

Connor snickers. “Didn’t we just establish that we’re not sure if we trust her?”

Some of us less than others,I think, but wisely hold my tongue.

“You think Hud’s gonna stay away?” Connor asks, leaving me to exhale with relief that he didn’t harp on why he wasn’t invited that night.

“I have no idea. He’s been keeping his distance since Rose got here.”

Connor nods thoughtfully.

“But even if Hudson won’t help, I’ll ask him to keep an eye on Rose, too,” I continue, forming a tentative plan in my mind. “Even from a distance.”

“Why are all the hot ones crazy?” Connor grumbles.

I laugh. “Meaning Hudson or Rose?”

Connor laughs, too. “Both, I guess.”

We arrive in Stannich, and he steers the truck up the road split toward our property line.

“I can walk from here,” I tell him, signaling for him to slow down.

“You sure?” He stops the car. “I don’t mind.”

“I like the walk,” I reassure him, climbing out of the car. “Clears my head.”

“You really should get a dog,” he tells me.

I grimace. “No, thanks. No pets for me.”

What I don’t say is that pets are too much of an emotional commitment. In fact, I don’t have any animals on my farm anymore.

I stalk away from the truck, heading up the hill toward my small house. Unlike Hudson and Connor, I only use my land for plants and crops. I mostly produce hay along with some other smaller crops, such as potatoes and alfalfa. But predominantly, my family has maintained our position among the ranches, supplying the local farms with their yearly stock of hay.

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