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stitching back together, the blood pumping through the heart.
Mew.
Lina laughed with relief. That s right, baby. All better now, aren t you? She put that
kitten next to Lucky, to let the momma cat take care of him now.
Here s your water, Trent said as he came back into the room.
Thanks, but he s okay now. She scooted out from under the bed.
Trent stood there with a dishpan of steaming water and the most confused look on his
face. I thought it was dead.
Guilt assailed her. She held up her hands and opened her mouth to explain, when Merona
came out from under the bed and tipped the pan of water right out of Trent s hands.
Granna!
Water soaked the rug, splashed up on Lina s front and Trent s legs.
Shit, Trent cursed. I m sorry. He turned and fled the room.
You need to keep your mouth shut, missy, Granna scolded. He s not ready to hear it yet.
I have to tell him. I have to.
Trent rushed back into the room with a couple bath towels and began mopping Lina s
chest. For some reason, this broke the tension for Lina and she burst out laughing.
And then they were both laughing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged
him. It s okay. It was just water.
Trent chuckled and held her tight. Water that is now soaking my uniform.
Maybe you ll have to take it off so it can dry.
You re a bad girl, Ms. Brennen.
Am I? She chuckled and pulled away. Well, anyway, I have some babies to look
after. She kissed him on the cheek.
He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long, tender kiss that just about curled her
toes. When he released her, he said, Okay, take care of your babies. I ll see you tonight at the
diner.
She nodded.
He sent her a wink, then ambled out the door.
One catastrophe diverted, Merona said.
He s not an idiot, Lina whispered. These diversionary tactics will only work so long.
Long enough, Merona said softly.
What s that supposed mean?
Merona shook her head and then dissolved into a sparkling shimmer.
Answer me, Granna. What are you talking about?
Nothing but the sounds of kittens mewing for their first meal came back to her.
* * * *
Trent rolled over and grabbed the phone. Godfrey, he answered in a sleep-
roughened voice.
WITCH HUNT Leanne Karella & Vivienne King 127
Trent, this is Blake Thornton. Them rustlers are in my pasture. If you don t get out here,
I m going to get my shotgun and go af er em myself.
Lord above, here we go again. Mr. Thornton, what makes you think they re in your
pasture? Trent glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Just after three a.m. And all he d wanted
was one good night s sleep.
I seen the lights. They re takin my cattle. You commin or am I a shootin ?
He rolled out of bed, cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, and grabbed his
jeans off the floor. I m coming. You stay in the house.
Alrighty then. I ll be awaitin .
Cradling the phone, Trent had no doubt the old coot would be awaitin . Saw the lights, he
thought, as he pulled on a uniform shirt and grabbed his gun belt from the back of the chair in the
corner of the room.
He stopped off at Jess s room and woke her up to let her know he was heading to
Thornton s. She mumbled a reply and pulled the covers over her head.
At the door he stomped into his boots, and grabbed his jacket and keys. Saw the lights,
he mumbled. Probably a stray UFO from New Mexico.
Ten minutes later, he pulled onto the road leading to Thornton s ranch. And he saw the
lights, too. On the western edge of the pasture there was a truck with its running lights on.
Behind it was a horse trailer. I ll be damned, Trent said, cutting his own lights. He drove
slowly along the boundary fence, keeping an eye on the vehicle. When he reached a gate for the
pasture, he got out, unlatched it, drove his car through, turned the cruiser off, and then fastened
the gate. Fresh tracks had recently turned up the earth.
Trent jogged the rest of the way, not wanting to alert the thief he was coming. He drew
his handgun from the belt, having no idea how many men he was approaching.
The truck was running, a shiny black Ford F-350 dually. A truck Trent would recognize
anywhere. And there was the owner, silhouetted by moonlight, loading one of Thornton s prize-
winning steer into the horse trailer.
Trent lifted the pistol, aiming it at the center of the man s back. How long had he wanted
to get him in his sights? Wife thievin ain t enough for you, Brock? You take cattle, too?
Ty stopped, his spine stiff, but he didn t turn around.
Come on, Ty. You re caught red-handed. Though, only God knows why you d be
needing to take these beeves. You, Mr. Rodeo Star. When he realized his hand was shaking, he
lowered the gun and waited. As much as he detested the man, he wouldn t be shooting him
tonight. He d once been his best friend.
Ty dropped the lead rope and turned around. I guess I m under arrest?
You don t sound real surprised.
Ty jumped down from the ramp into the shadow of the trailer. His voice was low when
he answered. It s a relief.
Come out here where I can see you.
Ty stepped out of the shadow, his hands held up in surrender. I m not armed, Trent.
Trent slowly approached Ty, visually searching for any sign of a weapon; though, deep
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