Free Roughstock (A Gail McCarthy Mystery) by Laura Crum Page B

and anything on the place that's portable-livestock, vehicles, whatever-is mine."
    "What about Trav?" Bronc's face seemed to shut down at that. "He can stay here, too," he said briefly and, I noted, uninformatively.
    But my mind was already shifting back to what I saw, suddenly, as the all-important question. "Jack's wives-ex-wives I guess-do they know what they'll inherit?"
    "Uh-huh. The damn fool went and told them."
    "Why?" I asked, completely nonplused.
    “ It was Jack's way. He wanted them to know he did right by them. I think he felt guilty. Damn fool."
    "Guilty?"
    For a second I thought Bronc wasn't going to answer, but then he said, "Jack couldn't have kids, you know. He was sterile."
    I shook my head. I certainly hadn't known. Was this, I wondered, what Lonny had meant by "talk"? I'd always thought the gossip was about Travis being Jack's illegitimate kid. But somehow I didn't like to come right out and say this to Bronc.
    "Well, it ruined him." Bronc was still talking. "He couldn't get it out of his head. I sometimes thought all his running around was on account of that. Either way, I think he never felt he'd done right by his wives, whether because he didn't give 'em kids or he ran around on 'em, I don't know."
    "What were Jack's first two wives like?" I asked curiously.
    "Well, Karen, the first one, she was a nice girl, a ranch girl. But she couldn't stand Jack's philandering. Maybe if she'd've had kids it would have been all right, but I don't know. She got fat and bitter in just a few years and a few more years later she'd had enough.
    "Now Laney, the second one, didn't have a mean bone in her body, but Willy, here, was a little smarter than she was. She lasted almost ten years, but she got tired of Jack playing her for the fool finally; it was just too goddamn obvious. She stuck him for a whole lot of money in the divorce, more than Karen got, by a long shot. Had a smart lawyer, I guess. I hear she lives in a big house down in Capitola now."
    Was this a motive, I wondered. Did the long-gone Karen just want her fair share? Or did Laney want more? All of the wives had a motive, since, supposedly, all of them had known about Jack's will. Including Tara, the only one of the three I knew. Knew and detested.
    "What about Tara?" I asked Bronc, and got my strongest reaction yet.
    "That goddamn Tara was purely a bitch." Bronc spat on the ground to emphasize his words. "I never hated a woman worse than I hated her."
    "Do you think she killed him?" It just seemed to pop out of my mouth.
    Bronc didn't answer. For a minute he stared at me and then he turned away and untied Willy from the hitching rail. "I'd better get to feeding."
    "Bye, Bronc," I called after him as he headed to the barn. "You going to Freddy's tomorrow?"
    He stopped for a second and looked back at me. "Might as well."
    "I'll see you there," I told him.
    "You bet. And if you get tired of that big lunk you're running around with, you just let me know." Bronc chuckled briefly and led Willy into the barn; I could hear the click as an electric light turned on, spilling yellow light out the door to where I stood. Following the broad lit swath to my pickup, I jumped in and cranked the heater up to full blast.
    It was black dark when I pulled into my own driveway and got out of my truck. I could hear Blue whining on the other side of the door; I'd left him in the house since I hadn't felt I'd have any time for him in the course of the endurance ride, and he was eager to be let out. Walking him down the steps to the small yard I'd fenced by the creek, I noticed with a pang how stiffly he was moving. Even a year or so ago I would have left him in the yard with its sturdy doghouse, but between age and arthritis Blue couldn't take the cold anymore; the slightest drop in temperature caused him to shiver.
    If he lived, this spring he would be fifteen. If he lived. I watched him stump around the yard, then urinate awkwardly by half squatting-he could no longer manage to