Page 25 of Meant for Her

“I’ll get it myself.” Luke followed him into the kitchen. “I asked you how many?”

“Twelve.”

“Fuck. At least tell me none of the ones stolen were pregnant.”

“I’m not like you. I don’t lie.”

Luke pounded a fist on the kitchen counter. “How many?”

“We lost four pregnant cows.”

Ryan grabbed his beer. From the few left in the refrigerator, Luke had downed several before Malia stopped by, not that he’d get drunk or anything. Both of them were aware what alcohol and gambling did to their father, even though shifters were more or less immune to alcohol. Gambling? Apparently not.

“Shit. We can’t afford to sell any land to buy more cows. If we did, we wouldn’t be able to support the cattle we have,” Luke said.

“I know.”

“When Malia came—after she asked how I was doing—she said she had a clue about who might have stolen our cattle.”

That was great news. “Who?”

“I might have told her not to get involved.”

His brother was a piece of work. “You never found out?”

“No.”

“Did she say anything else, or did she immediately start taking off her clothes, hoping you’d see her potential and do her?” Yes, he was being ridiculous, but Luke was hiding something.

“Malia mentioned that she was a Granger who had a lot of connections. It’s how she learned about it.”

“Yet you didn’t ask? Great, but I get it. It slipped your mind, because she was so hot for you that she tore off your clothes and begged you to have sex with her.”

“Something like that.”

Ryan shook his head. His brother was a piece of work. “I think I’ll stop by the hospital tomorrow. If she’s working, maybe I can have a civil conversation with her. Being in neutral territory should be acceptable, right?”

“Sure, but be careful you don’t run into Sheriff Hanson.”

“Why?” Ryan asked.

“Think about it. You were shot three times—once quite seriously. No human would be up and around in two days. The last thing we need, on top of everything else, is to have the world learn about our kind.”

Luke was right. “I can wait for her to get off work and follow her home or something.”

“Oh, that’ll work, for sure. Every woman in the world wants a stalker. Being a Granger, she’s probably pretty sensitive to those kinds of things.”

Since the moment he laid eyes on Malia, Ryan’s thought processes had short-circuited. “What do you suggest? I wear a black wig and a business suit so the sheriff won’t know it’s me?”

Luke almost cracked a smile. “That’s a bit extreme. I bet she goes out to lunch. Maybe you can find out where and happen to be there.”

That could take days, and Ryan wanted to speak with her as soon as possible. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find the rustlers. “I’ll figure something out.”

“What do you want to do when the sheriff shows up here? We saw the men. He’ll want to know the details of the theft, assuming he knows they were rustlers,” Luke said.

“Well, someone shot us. He’ll want to know who.” Ryan snapped his fingers. “I bet Malia would help us out.”

“How so?”