Free Charlene Sands by Taming the Texan

destroy it.”
    For a second he might have convinced her, but then her blue eyes narrowed on him, and she gave him a shake of her head before she turned and walked away.
    “Hell.”
    With hands on hips, Clint watched her leave. He shouldn’t care that someone was sabotaging the ranch, if that were truly the case, but there was something niggling at him. He didn’t like being made a fool. He didn’t appreciate being tricked and he wasn’t entirely sure that lives wouldn’t be in danger. Tess’s fall yesterday wasn’t an accident. He was convinced there was more to that story, but he couldn’t figure it out just yet.
    At the moment he was half owner of the Double H and he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to foil his plans for revenge. Let Tess think what she would. It didn’t matter whether she believed him or not.
    But one thing was for sure: he’d get to the bottom of it.
     
    Clint rose early the next morning and walked over to the smithy’s open shed. The constant smell of smoke, fire and ash put the blacksmith’s work area far away from the house and outer buildings. Gabriel Whorley worked alone and he was new to Clint, though he’d been with the Double H for six years now. Sonny vouched for him, claiming him an expert craftsman. And a good smithy was valuable and as essential to a ranch the size of the Double H as the longhorns themselves.
    “Morning, Gabe,” Clint said once he spotted the smithy setting up his tools.
    “Oh, morning, Mr. Hayworth.” He walked out of the covered area, squinting into the early sun. Then he grabbed his hat and plopped it onto his head.
    Clint scanned the shed and the tools the smithy used, noting that Gabe kept things orderly. “We had some trouble last night. Seems someone poked some big holes in the water tank. Flooded the ground and most the water is gone. Gonna take a while to fill it again. That’s if you can rig up something to repair it.”
    Gabe scratched at his dark beard. “I’ve never repaired a tank before. I’ll take a look-see and let you know what I can do. That tank was special-ordered by Mr. Hayworth before I got here. I imagine it’s hard to replace.”
    “It is,” Clint agreed.
    “Who’d you think would do something like that?”
    Clint shook his head. “Don’t know exactly. Did you see or hear anything unusual yesterday? See anyone that didn’t belong on the ranch?”
    Gabe thought on it for a second, then shook his head. “No, sir. No one came around here much yesterday. I spent the day making up shoes for Sonny’s horse. He’s about the only one I saw yesterday around here.”
    “Okay,” he said, then he walked closer to the smithy’s work area. “Anything missing here from your tools?”
    “Missing?” Gabe’s furry brows rose in surprise. He looked around and made a quick assessment. “No, sir. I don’t see anything missing.”
    Clint nodded. “Just thinking that someone would need some powerful tools to puncture the tank.”
    “An ax would do it.”
    Clint shook his head. “No, they weren’t ax marks.”
    Gabe stroked his beard again. “I’d best go see what exactly happened.”
    Clint walked with him over to the tank, and they marched right through the mud that was slowly beginning to dry up from the sun’s heat.
    Gabe noted the puncture marks and made an instant assessment. “Seems they used a long metal pole, pointed at the tip, and hammered at it until it went through. A big metal stake would make a hole that size.”
    “You make any metal stakes that size lately?”
    “No, sir. I’d have no cause to make a stake that size. Are you accusing me of something, Mr. Hayworth?”
    Clint glanced at the man bearing pride and defiance in his eyes. From what he knew about Gabe Whorley, he was a family man. Had a wife and two boys who lived in a nice little house in town. He’d never gotten himself in any trouble, and Clint had no reason to suspect him. “No, Gabe. Just trying to figure out this mystery.”
    The