The Texan Read Free Page A

Hank Richardson’s death was turning out to be a lot harder to handle than he’d expected.
    Owen was glad his beer was gone, because it was impossible to swallow past the knot of anguish in his throat. It felt as though a steel band were tightening around his chest. Hank would have given him one of those fierce, rough hugs that men share when emotions are running high, and no one’s about to admit they’re hurting so bad inside they can’t breathe.
    But Hank wasn’t here. And it did hurt to breathe.
    He felt Clay’s hand tighten around his forearm. “It’ll be okay, Owe. Not right away. It takes a while. I know.”
    Owen swallowed painfully. He felt his eyes watering and bit his lip hard to keep the tears at bay.
    “How’s Julia holding up?” Clay asked.
    He raised tortured eyes to meet his brother’s gaze and said in a raspy voice, “How do you think?” It was easier to handle the pain if he turned it into anger. Easier to rage than to cry. “She’s eight months pregnant, for God’s sake! I told Hank he should let someone else go into the Big Bend after those stolen munitions, especially with Julia so close to her time, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
    “Texas Rangers are notorious for that sort of glorious sacrifice,” Clay said quietly. “I mean, heading off into the wilderness alone to hunt down the bad guys. It’s too bad Hank got ambushed. Is there any evidence from the scene you can use to help you find his killer?”
    “We found a note in Hank’s handwriting in the lining ofhis hat that said, ‘Find the perfect lady, and you’ll find the thief.’”
    Clay frowned. “Does anyone know what that means?”
    “Not a clue,” Owen said. “But I intend to find out.”
    “On your own?”
    “Rangers work alone,” Owen said. “It’s the nature of the beast.”
    “Under the circumstances, I’d think you’d want some backup,” Clay said.
    “Are you suggesting I should bring along a posse?”
    Clay smiled. “The thought had crossed my mind. What makes you think you’ll have any better luck finding those stolen munitions than Hank had?”
    “Hank must have gotten close, or they wouldn’t have killed him. I’ll start where we found his body and work the trail from there.”
    “Will you have any trouble getting assigned to the case? I mean, the Big Bend is a long way from your normal hunting grounds,” Clay said.
    “I’ve already arranged it with my boss, and he worked it out with the FBI.”
    Clay took another swallow of beer. “Will you be okay tomorrow?”
    “Yeah,” Owen said, his throat swelling with emotion again. “I just wish I could go to sleep and wake up and discover this is all a bad dream.”
    But it wasn’t a dream. Hank was dead.
    Owen was afraid he would break down like some sniveling kid, if he didn’t get away. He stood abruptly.
    “Owen?”
    In his brother’s eyes he saw all the pain he was suffering reflected back at him. He felt like howling but gritted his teeth and kept the sound inside. “I have to go.”
    Clay stood, and the twins exchanged words without speaking, a gift they’d shared from the womb.
    Take care of yourself, Owe
.
    I will, Clay. You know I have to find the man who killed Hank. I owe him that
.
    I wish I could be there for you tomorrow. Are you sure you’ll be all right?
    “I’ll be fine,” Owen said aloud. “I’ll be even better when I find the man who killed Hank. He’s going to pay for what he did. If it’s the last thing I ever do.”

Chapter 2
    A SINGLE BULB ILLUMINATED THE SWOLLEN belly of the mare, lying on her side in a deep bed of straw. The mare made a soft, grunting sound as her belly rippled, but the sharp contraction did nothing to move the foal along the birth canal. Too tired even to lift her head, the suffering beast stared with expressive, defeated eyes at the woman kneeling beside her.
    Bayleigh Creed had spent long hours studying at the veterinary college at Texas A&M and had been a licensed vet for more than