Free Killing Halfbreed by Zack Mason

Would you have a minute to fix it for me?"
    So polite, so refined.  Way out of his league.  He was crazy to even think about courting her.  What would a beautiful, wealthy girl like her see in a lowly stable boy like him? 
    He couldn't approach her, not with a hostler's calluses on his hands.  She was used to being provided for in a much richer way.  He might get up the courage to speak to her one day.  Maybe if he could make his mark on the world first somehow.  Until then, he only dared dream.
    "Sure, Miss Logan.  Be happy to.  Let me drive them in the barn and I'll have it fixed right up for you."
    Jinny dreamed he would ask her on a picnic one day, or a ride around town, or something even more romantic.  She didn't quite know how to prod him into it without seeming forward.  As is the frustration of many a young girl, she’d have to be patient and let him make the first move.
    As he drove her team toward the barn, her eyes traced the movements of the taut muscles in his tanned arms.  She hoped he wouldn't wait too long.
     
    ***
     
    Ben's cattle had disappeared with him and Jessica.  I'd covertly visited all three of the other ranches, but couldn’t find any cattle marked by Ben's brand.
    It was another confusing mystery to solve.  From his letters, I knew Ben had had at least a couple hundred head.  The Big Three had all complained of cattle rustling.  So, where were all the missing cattle going?
    You can't easily hide that many animals.  When I'd first arrived at Ben's ranch house over a year ago, a few strays with his brand had still roamed the property.  Now, there were none.  I'd searched every nook and cranny of the spread, but no luck.
    Obviously, Ben's ranch was being rustled too, and in my brother's absence, the rustlers had actually made off with his entire stock.  They had to be hiding the cows somewhere nearby.  I had to find out who and where they were.
    Finding the rustlers was my only hope.  I wanted to clear my brother's name —  andmy own too for that matter.  Not to mention, if I didn’t stop them, it’d only be a matter of time before they also got off with the tiny herd I’d just spent months building.
     
    ***
     
    Carlton Andrews was the president and sole owner of the Bank of Jackson County, located in Cottonwood, New Mexico.  He was a portly man who fit the general stereotype of a banker fairly well.  He wore smallish spectacles whenever he had to read something, which was most of the time in a working day.  His suits were of fine quality, as well as his house, which was just off Main Street.  He was the wealthiest man in the area, excluding the Big Three.
    However, most of the ranchers’ wealth was tied up in stock, land, and other assets.  His was in accessible cash.  His bank financed their projects, so while on paper they had more, in reality, their labor made Andrews wealthy.
    He genuinely liked the people of Cottonwood.  He had from the first moment he'd arrived to set up shop.  He was not the pretentious or arrogant sort, so he got along well with most and felt they were his friends.  Still, to be successful in banking, one had to project an image of importance and wealth at all times.  To do otherwise would invite a lack of confidence, even if it set one apart from the normal citizenry or spawned envy.
    The morning had been uneventful so far.  Most of his job entailed reviewing the books, moving the money the citizenry had on deposit around on paper among different investment enterprises as needed.  A banker makes his living on interest gleaned from other people’s money.
    When Jacob Talbot disturbed his otherwise excellent and peaceful morning by walking through his front door, he was quietly sipping his coffee and enjoying the local paper.
    A jolt of apprehension ran through him.  He didn't know Talbot very well.  He'd only spoken to the man a couple of times, but Andrews was on the town council, and he'd been directly involved in the