They threaded between trunks carpeted in pine needles, the earthy scent sharp in the air. Soon Rawley appeared ahead, stepping into a shaft of sunlight. They met halfway.
“I have no idea who the other man is,” Rawley murmured, eyes shifting to the cattle trailer’s ribbed metal sides, “but that herd, I can’t tell if they’ve got ear tags.”
Deke studied the low-slung trailer through binoculars, sun glinting off its corrugated panels. “I’d bet my year’s pay those are Hollister’s cattle. Let’s move in closer.”
They closed the gap of the property, hearts hammering beneath their protective vests. Under the oaks’ dappled shade, Deke leveled his binoculars at the porch, three figures clustered by the heavy oak door.
“Can you see inside the house?” he whispered to Killian.
Killian looked through his binoculars. “It looks empty and clear.”
“Good. No need for backup yet.”
They watched the younger brother pass a thick envelope to an older man with salt-and-pepper stubble. Deke’s jaw tightened.
“Cash, I bet.”
“You’d probably win that bet.” Killian’s voice was hard.
Rawley, at the tree line, shook his head. “One Winchester is heading toward the hauler. What do you want to do?”
“You and I head for the porch to grab the kid and that man. Killian, you cut off the hauler.”
“Alright. Is there ammo in the truck for the rifle, Deke?” Killian asked.
“Yeah, in the center console.”
“Okay. I’m getting that. He might not stop for a pistol.” Killian slipped away like a shadow, vanishing toward the gravel road.
Deke glanced at Rawley. “As soon as that truck is out of sight, you get Winchester, I’ll handle the other guy.”
Rawley’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m going to have to run after him, aren’t I?”
“Probably.” Deke’s lips twitched in a wry grin.
“Damn.” Rawley sighed, then squared his shoulders. “Good thing I stay in shape. Whenever you’re ready.”
They waited in silence as the rumbling engine of the livestock hauler grew distant, then Deke sent a quick text to Killian.
It’s on the move.Deke checked his pistol’s slide one last time and nodded to Rawley.
“Let’s do this.”
They stepped from the woods just as the hauler rounded the bend. The older man and the boy on the porch were still deep in conversation. Deke and Rawley pressed close to the nearest oak, breaths steady, eyes locked on their targets. At Deke’s signal, they swept into the clearing, weapons raised.
“Montana Department of Livestock. Put your hands where we can see them!” Deke’s voice cutthrough the afternoon stillness.
The younger Winchester’s head whipped up, panic flaring in his eyes. Before Deke could say anything, the boy bolted, jumping off the porch and disappearing around the house. Rawley let out an exasperated sigh; Deke felt a grin tug at his lips as he watched Rawley run after him.
“Sir, put your hands on top of your head and interlock your fingers! Do not move!” Deke told the man on the porch as he aimed his Glock 19 at him.
The sun beat down on the dusty lane as the man lifted his hands without protest. Deke’s boots crunched over the gravel as he kept his gun trained on the suspect until he reached the wide wooden planks of the porch. Weathered paint peeled beneath their feet.
“Turn around,” Deke said, his voice low and steady. “You’re under arrest for rustling.”
The man’s eyes glanced defiantly over his shoulder. “I didn’t do any rustling.”
Deke put his gun in his holster but held firm. “You might not have driven the cattle off the range yourself, but you’ve got the Hollister herd here. That’s enough. Now, where’s the hauler headed?”
