Nia turned toward Rhett. "This isn't just a fight over property anymore. They're poisoning livestock. We need an official complaint on record. Rhett gave a short, humorless laugh.
Sheriff Abner Lockach hunts with Rafe Crow and sits two pews behind him every Sunday. It still needs to be written down. Nia said, "If this reaches someone above him, nobody can claim you stayed silent. Rhett studied her. When it reaches someone above him, Rafe isn't going to stop.
Wind moved through this fence line, carrying dust and the bitter smell of contaminated water. Rhett looked down at the opened pipe. Then he looked toward the sick cattle in the distance. Clay saddle two horses. Going to Ash Creek.
Yes. Rhett's expression hardened. Time to find out what the law is worth in Redstone County. Nia watched them walk toward the stable. For the first time since arriving at Holt Ranch, she understood that they were no longer fighting only drought.
And now they were fighting men who knew how to use legal papers, poison, and friendship with the law as weapons. Rhett and Clay Boon returned to Holt Ranch 3 hours later. Nia knew the trip to the sheriff had accomplished nothing before either man even swung down from the saddle. Clay Boon's face looked harder than usual. Rhett looked like a man who had received exactly the disappointment he had expected.
She poured coffee for them in the kitchen. Sheriff Abner Lockach took the complaint, Rhett said, wrote down every word and promised he'd look into it. But he won't, Nia replied. Clay Boon wrapped both hands around his cup. Rafe and Abner have been hunting together for 20 years.
Same church, same friends. They've been covering each other's backs since before Dusty was old enough to sit a horse. The complaint exists now, Nia said. That matters only if somebody bothers to read it, Rhett muttered. Before she could answer, a horse appeared on the road.
The rider was a short, gray-haired man who moved with quick, practiced energy. He dismounted carrying a leather medical bag. Doc Ezra Finch, Clay Boon said. At least somebody showed up when he was supposed to. The veterinarian spent nearly an hour examining the two sick cows.
He checked their eyes, breathing, gums, and pulse, then asked to see the contaminated section of pipe. When he returned, he wiped his hands on a cloth. "Phosphorus compound," he said. "Most likely some kind of rodent poison or agricultural chemical. Rhett rested one hand against the fence.
"Will they live? They might. Whatever they swallowed was diluted. Give them clean water, uncontaminated feed, and keep somebody watching them through the night. I'll stay with them, Nia said.
Doc Finch studied her. How did you know they'd been sick for several days? Their breathing, the weakness, the calf went down fast. These two have been fighting it for a while. The veterinarian gave a slow nod.