Page 48 of Meant for Her

Luke’s hold on the bag containing the branding iron, along with his notebook, increased. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. For now.”

At least the man could compromise. “Remember that you are still injured, so once we’re inside, remember to limp.”

He nodded. The two of them entered the arena. Cows were mooing and bellowing from their enclosed pens, and the auctioneer was calling out the bids over a microphone.

“Seth is here somewhere. Let me call him. Hopefully, he’s keeping an eye on your cattle.”

Luke placed a hand on her arm. “I’m not good at expressing my feelings. If I forget, thanks for being here with me. I can get a little crazy when someone messes with my livelihood.”

She smiled. “I get it.”

Malia called Seth and asked him where he was.

“Do you see the pen to the right of where the auction is being held?” Seth asked.

She looked around. “Yes.”

“Meet me there.”

“Okay.” She pocketed her phone and faced Luke. “Let’s go. If you see the sheriff, let me know.”

Once Seth spotted them, he rushed over. He shook Luke’s hand. “Seth Granger. We met a few years back.”

“I remember. You bought all the cattle Ryan and I were bidding on.”

Her brother shrugged. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

“I know.”

Malia placed a hand on Luke’s arm. “There’s the sheriff. Looks like he already found Chip Lawson. Let’s go talk with him.”

The three of them went over to the sheriff.

“That was fast,” Rich Hanson said. He did a quick scan of Luke. “How are you feeling?”

“As well as can be expected. Thanks for asking.”

Luke’s manner once more changed to one of cordial sophistication. Considering the lack of parental guidance growing up, she wouldn’t have expected that of him.

“Where are my cows?” Luke asked, getting straight to the point.

“I see you have the branding iron,” the sheriff said. “I trust the notebook contains all the papers?”

“It does.”

“I’m telling you, Sheriff, this is ridiculous,” Chip said. “I bought these cows fair and square.” He waved some papers. “I got the receipts right here.”

The sheriff took them and looked them over. “Who did you buy them from?”

“Man’s name was Minter. Phil Minter.”

Seth stepped forward. “I’ve probably dealt with every rancher in this area, and I’ve never heard of a Phil Minter.”

“Well, that’s what he said his name was.” Chip lifted his chin.

“Mr. Lawson,” the sheriff said, “where was this ranch that you purchased the cows from?”

“‘Bout ten miles north of here, on Highway 47.”