As the sheriff drove away, Jason, Winona, and Jack piled back into Jack’s truck and started the drive back to the ranch house.
“I’m grateful to both of you for your help today. Tomorrow is bound to take most of the day. My family and I would love to have you both as guests of the ranch. We can grill some steaks, put you up in our cabin, where you can soak in our hot tub. I’ll make you a good breakfast the next morning, and then we can saddle up some horses and go riding. I make wicked buttermilk pancakes.”
Jason was about to turn Jack down, but Winona’s face lit up like it was Christmas.
“I would love that. Thank you, Jack. I’ve heard about your barbeques.”
“Well, of course, you have.” Jack chuckled.
It was on the tip of Jason’s tongue to decline. The Wests were good people, but they were strangers. Jason could drive up separately, let Winona come in her vehicle, and then leave at the end of the day.
But he’d be damned if the Cimarron wasn’t one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen. And it had been ages since he’d sat in a saddle.
Against his better judgment, Jason accepted. “McBride told me not to turn down one of your grilled steaks if you offered, so I won’t.”
“Well, then, it’s settled.” Jack grinned. “We’ll get the cabin ready.”
Almost immediately, Jason regretted his decision.
You’re not here for horseback riding or scenery. You’re here for Winona.
Something about her tugged at him, made him want to be near her. Yes, she was attractive, but it was more than that. There was something about her—her way with animals, her unguarded smile, her sincerity, her openness, her willingness to help others. She was everything Elena was not.
You don’t really know her.
No, he didn’t. He’d been with Elena for four years. He’d thought he knew everything about her, but he’d been wrong.
He was probably wrong about Winona, too.
* * *
Back at the house,Jack thanked them and handed Winona a paper bag with a large container of leftover chili and cornbread wrapped in aluminum foil.
“Thanks for your help today,” Jack said. “We look forward to treating you to some Cimarron hospitality tomorrow.”
Winona waited until they were back in Jason’s truck and on the highway to say it. “I told you the Wests were good people.”
“Jack certainly makes a mean chili.” Jason glanced over at her, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Can I ask what happened to Nate?”
“He was burned in an IED explosion while serving with the Marines in Afghanistan. No one expected him to survive.” That’s all Winona knew. She hadn’t lived here then. “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been.”
Jason winced. “He must be one tough guy.”
Winona’s mind went to Eric Hawke and what he’d endured since being burned in the fire just two months ago. “Scarlet Springs has more than its share of heroes.”
They drove for a time in silence, Winona mulling over their day, her head filling with questions. She spoke aloud without realizing it. “How much does a steer weigh—a thousand pounds?”
“Something like that.”
She did some quick math. “Three steers in six weeks with maybe five hundred pounds of edible meat per animal would be fifteen hundred pounds of beef. That’s alotof burgers.”
“Maybe this guy is filling up a freezer or selling it on the side.”
She supposed that made sense. “Why poach steers? Why not go after wild game?”
“I can think of a couple of reasons. Wild game is unreliable. You can hunt all day and go home with nothing.”
She could understand that. “The steers are captive, fenced in.”