Chapter One
As Deacon “Deke” Anderson finally eased his dirt-streaked pickup into a crooked driveway before the low-slung ranch-style house, he let out a long, weary sigh. The late afternoon sun beat down mercilessly through the windshield, making the paint on the hood ripple in the heat haze. What should have been a smooth five-hour drive from Clifton to Maple Ridge, Montana, had stretched into nearly six hours. An overturned semi and miles of stalled traffic turning the highway into a parking lot. His boss, Dave Merkle, had sprung this assignment on him at the last minute. He’d arrived under-prepared but knew better than to quibble when the head of your department says “go.”
He’d been surprised when Dave mentioned Maple Ridge, Montana, considering Deke had never forgotten where Ava said she was from. Almost three years have passed and he still couldn’t forget that night with her, but the odds of finding her were slim to none and she could, in all likelihood be married by now.
Deke killed the engine and listened to the sudden, echoing quiet of the dusty yard. He climbed out, the pounding sun already turning his shirt damp with sweat. Wiping his palm on his jeans, he closed the truck door and strode across the parched gravel toward the porch. He knocked on the door and waited.
The door swung open and a tall, lean, silver-haired man, tanned deep as leather, stared back at him from the threshold, folding his arms, heraised his eyebrow.
“Is there something I can help you with, son?” the man asked, voice low but firm.
Deke straightened. “Yes, sir. I’m Agent Deacon Anderson with the Montana Department of Livestock. I’m looking for Mr. Hollister. We received a report of missing cattle.” He showed the man his badge.
The older man’s eyes softened, and he stepped aside. “That’s me, Rudy Hollister. Come on in and get out of this heat.”
Deke nodded gratefully, removing his cowboy hat before wiping his boots on the mat. He stepped into a simple kitchen where sunlight streamed through checkered curtains, illuminating a wooden table scattered with papers and a bowl containing apples.
“You can hang your hat on that peg,” Rudy said, nodding to the hooks by the doorway.
Deke looped his hat onto the nearest one. “Thank you, sir.” He trailed Rudy into the living room, where faded floral upholstery and the gentle ticking of a wall clock gave the space a lived-in comfort.
“Something to drink?” Rudy asked.
“I wouldn’t turn down a glass of cold water,” Deke replied.
“Have a seat,” Rudy said, disappearing around a corner. The floorboards creaked under Deke’s boots as he settled onto a cushioned chair. A few minutes later, Rudy returned with a tall glass, condensation beading on its surface. He handed it over with a courteous nod.
“Here you go, Agent Anderson,” he said.
Deke took a grateful sip, the cool water slidingdown his throat. “Thanks, Mr. Hollister”
“Please, call me Rudy.” Rudy sat in another chair, but Deke noticed him frowning at him. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
“Not that I know of. This is my first time in Maple Ridge, and please call me, Deke,” he said, offering his business card. “You can reach me at any of those numbers. Feel free to call anytime.” He folded his hands around the glass. “When did you first notice the cattle were missing?”
Rudy leaned back, gaze drifting to a framed photograph of a cluster of cattle grazing beneath a cloud-streaked sky. “One of the ranch hands did and called my son. He manages the place now. He called last night; said a dozen head were gone. I’m glad Autumn Falls sent someone out so quickly.”
Deke smiled. “I’m actually from the Clifton office. Autumn Falls theft unit is swamped, so they asked for our help.”
Rudy nodded with understanding. “I heard there’s been a rash of rustling lately. Desperate times, I suppose, but taking a man’s livelihood… that’s low.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Deke said. “Even if someone’s strapped for cash, they’re stealing the very source of income ranchers depend on.”
“The last time I dealt with a theft was over ten years ago,” Rudy admitted. “We keep watch over the herd, but you can’t guard every acre every hour.”
“No excuse for it though,” Deke agreed, setting his glass on a side table, the sound of ice clinking. “Tell me how it was discovered they were gone.”
Rudy shook his head. “One of our hands spotted the empty pen and alerted Tyler. That’s my boy.”He rose. “I’d show you but I’m watching my granddaughter. She’s taking a nap but I don’t want to leave the house in case she wakes up. My son can show you though.”
Deke nodded as he stood and watched the dust motes floating in the beam of sunshine through the window. “If you’ll tell me where to find him, I’ll head there. Don’t need you roasting out there anyway.”
Rudy chuckled, stepping back toward the kitchen. “When I was stacking hay bales in this kind of heat, I thought I’d melt. Lucky, I retired from that.”
Deke laughed. “I’ve broken my back stacking more bales than I can count.”
“Same here, son,” Rudy said. “Tyler’s probably in the barn.”
“Alright.” Deke followed him back into the kitchen, where he reclaimed his hat from the peg. “I’m sure I’ll find him. Rudy, thanks for your time. Oh, do the ear tags have radio frequency identification?”
