Free Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) by Heather Blanton

but the barons are painting it that way and they
own the newspapers. Ella was tried and convicted in the press and her murder
excused.” She snorted in disgust. “Helluva note.”
    Grace
wondered about Thad and his animosity toward Nate. As if reading her thoughts,
Raney dropped her fork and pushed her plate away.
    “Earl
Walker used to be a good man. I’m not so sure anymore. I think all the cattle
barons have blood on their hands, and I fear Thad has a rude awakening coming
about his pa.”
     

CHAPTER
ELEVEN
     
     

    “Luckily,
this is a small herd.” Thad raised his arm and swished a quirt back and forth,
gently urging the herd onward. His horse ambled forward at an easy pace as the
cattle lowed and grunted and meandered through the short, dry grass. Beside
him, Greg shifted in the saddle and scanned the rolling, open horizon.
    Thad
saw something in the kid’s face he couldn’t peg, maybe because every time he
looked at him now, he saw her face. Regardless, the kid was sweating
bullets. Thad needed to try to convince him to relax, for both their sakes. The
last thing he needed was a jittery greenhorn on his hands. Even a hundred head
could stampede, and he was never going to let that happen again.
    Trying
to reassure Greg, he motioned at the dip in the hills before them. “They know
where to go, and we can usually get ’em there in a couple of hours.” Another
few minutes and they would smell the water.
    God,
please let the creek be down.
    The
golden sunshine and well-munched grass quivering in the November breeze
reminded him of the recent rains. He sneaked another peek at the rawboned boy
next to him. High water would mean a cold, miserable crossing. “We have to get
over the Crazy Woman with them. You good with that?” he asked tentatively.
    Greg
hunched his shoulders. “Is it deep?”
    “No,
but it’s gonna be cold. And I can see where it’d be a little scary to a city
kid.”
    Greg
opened his mouth, as if to argue, but then clamped his lips shut.
    “Hey,
I don’t mean anything by it,” Thad ducked his head in apology. “I’ve lived out
here my whole life, been in the saddle since I was two, but it’s easy to make
mistakes. Shoot, I lost a herd a few years ago.”
    Greg’s
brow wrinkled. “What do you mean lost ?”
    Thad
rubbed his neck, wishing he hadn’t mentioned the disaster, one he was still
trying to get his father to forgive . . . and forget. “Lost
control.” He hated the icy nausea that accompanied the memory. “They stampeded.
The herd was blind with panic, but I thought we could turn ’em.” He shook his
head, his soul full of regret. “They roared over the crew like an avalanche.”
    “Oh.”
Greg went back to the herd, eyeing it suspiciously, as if it might explode into
a stampede any second. “They killed some of your men?”
    “Three.”
Three funerals. Three widows. Thad resituated his hat and wished he could undo
the day just as easily. Get those men back. Get his father’s trust back. Maybe
when he did, Pa would let Trampas go.
    “That’s
awful. But I’m pretty fast when I have to be.”
    Thad
appreciated the attempt to lighten his mood. “And when I’m done with you,
you’ll be a cowboy fit for any of the best outfits.”
    Greg
muttered something under his breath that sounded to Thad like that’s what
you think. “What?”
    “Um,
I said, I need a drink.” The kid reached for the canteen hanging on the saddle.
    “I
guess I’ll have to teach you to throw a lasso, too, huh?”
    Greg
swallowed his sip. “I’m not really a city kid. I grew up on a farm, but there
wasn’t much of a need for lassoing pigs and turkeys.” He wiped a slender hand
across his mouth and studied Thad, not attempting to hide his suspicion. “Why
are you so bent on helping me? Just to get to my sister?”
    Thad
moved his horse right with a simple tug on the reins, and brought a straying
cow back into the herd. “I’ve known Raney my whole life,” he said over