“Well, you’re here and they’re not,” she said with a hint of exasperation. “Tell me, Grady. Why did my husband have it in for you? Why was he so determined that you not get this land?”

“That’s easy,” he said, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “Because it was his and he was possessive.”

“You’re talking about the land, but it went beyond that. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re imagining things.”

Karen lost patience. “Dammit, Grady, tell me. Was it about a woman? Did you and Caleb fight over some woman?”

Grady sighed heavily. “Not the way you mean,” he said finally. “And it wasn’t me.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” she accused.

His lips curved slightly at that. “Apparently it’s a family trait. My grandfather does that, too, when he doesn’t want to answer a question.”

“Well, I intend to keep coming back to this one until you give me a straight answer,” she said. “So why not get it over with?”

“Okay,” he said with obvious reluctance. “This was about my father and Anna Hanson.”

Stunned, Karen stared at him. “Caleb’s mother?”

He nodded.

“But how? When? Before she married Carl?”

“No, unfortunately, it was much later. They almost ran off together.”

Karen couldn’t seem to take it in. “Anna Hanson almost abandoned her family to run away with your father?”

“They would have left, if my father hadn’t been killed in an accident on his way to get her. He was late because he had stopped to try to explain to me why he wouldn’t be home. She blamed me for his death. It’s irrational, I know, but she couldn’t blame herself.”

“My God,” Karen whispered. “And Caleb knew?”

Grady nodded. “He knew. He’d seen them together, and he found her bags packed on the night of the accident.”

“What about Carl?”

“He knew as well, but he acted as if nothing had happened. For the sake of his pride, I suppose, he pretended that Anna had never had any intention of going anywhere with my father. He and Anna just went along with their marriage.”

Karen thought about her husband, about the occasional dark looks he had cast at his mother, about the tension that sometimes flared between him and his father. He’d never been able to bring himself to blame either of them for the choices they had made back then, and Charlie Blackhawk was dead, so he had blamed Grady, instead. All of that anger and hurt had been directed at the only person who’d been as innocent of blame as Caleb himself had been.

“What about your mother?” Karen asked Grady. “How did she take all of this?”

His expression turned grim. “She wasn’t as good at pretending. She turned to alcohol. I don’t think she had a sober minute for ten years before it finally caught up with her and she died.”

“How old were you when she died?”

“Nineteen.”

“Which means you were only nine when all of this happened?”

He nodded.

“And Caleb was thirteen?”

“An age when a boy is all caught up in his own raging hormones and doesn’t want to think about his parents as sexual beings. He certainly doesn’t want to think of his mother wanting to be with a man other than his father in that way.”

“But to blame you,” Karen said. “How could he?”

“It wasn’t logical, unless you believe the sins of the fathers live on in their sons, though I doubt any of that was on Caleb’s mind. I was just an easy target for all that pent-up rage he couldn’t express to the people involved.”

Pent-up rage, Karen thought, wondering if that had ultimately been the stress that had damaged Caleb’s heart. Was it possible that even years later, he had quite literally died of a broken heart?

As saddened as she was by that, she couldn’t help being glad that the secret was finally out. It helped her to see everything in a new light. It helped to know that Caleb’s judgment of Grady had been so terribly misdirected. Wasn’t that what Stella had hinted at so many weeks ago? Obviously she had known the whole story.

Perhaps if Caleb had ever gotten to know the man he considered an enemy, he would have seen that Grady was as much a victim as Caleb himself had been. And the fierce competitiveness and anger that only Caleb had felt might not have contributed to his death.

Chapter Eleven

It was almost noon by the time Grady and Karen were able to drive over to see the Fletchers and Oldhams. They were about to leave when they heard a commotion outside. Grady opened the back door just in time to see Dooley thundering toward the house, his horse at a full gallop. The old man looked mad enough to break a few boards in two with his bare hands. He reined in his horse just a few feet from where Grady and Karen stood.

“Dooley, what is it?” Karen asked, regarding him with alarm. “Where’s Hank?”

“I left him in the pasture,” he said, casting a worried frown at Grady. “Could I have a word with you?”

“Hold it,” Karen commanded. “If you speak to anybody around here, Dooley Jenkins, it’ll be me. What’s happened? Is Hank okay?”

Dooley’s expression turned resigned. “He’s fine, but that prize bull you just bought, he’s not so good.”

Grady saw the color drain out of Karen’s face. He put an arm around her waist, but she seemed oblivious to it. He could feel her trembling. This was just one more blow to a woman who’d faced too many of them.

“What happened? Is he sick?” she asked.

“Not sick,” Dooley said. “Shot.”

Karen gasped. “Shot? By whom? Was it an accident?”

“Not unless you believe people are taking target practice in your pasture and that bull just got in the way,” Dooley said with disgust. “Looks to me like somebody took dead aim at him.”

“Is he alive?” Grady asked.

“Barely.”

“I’ll call the vet,” Karen said at once, and disappeared inside, her spine straight, her familiar resolve back in place.

When she’d gone, Grady regarded the old man intently. “Any chance he’ll make it?”

“Not much of one, if you ask me. Whoever did this knew what he was doing. He got him good. Calling the vet’s probably a waste of time and money.”

“Still, she has to try or she’ll never forgive herself,” Grady concluded. “I’ll saddle the horses and ride out with her. Can you wait and bring the vet out when he gets here?”

“Will do,” Dooley agreed. “Then I want to help you find the son of a bitch who did this. The missus was counting on that bull for breeding. Paid an arm and a leg for him.”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Grady said grimly. “I can spare a couple of bulls. I imagine Frank Davis will offer to help out, too, once his son gets wind of this from Cassie.” He met Dooley’s gaze. “One more thing, from now on Karen doesn’t go anywhere on this ranch without one of us with her.”

“Got it,” Dooley said, his expression somber. “When you’re not around, me or Hank will stick close by, no matter how much she grumbles about it.”

Grady grinned. “I imagine she’ll grumble quite a lot.”

Dooley’s lips twitched. “Yes, indeed. The woman can’t stand to have anybody coddling her. She’s dead set on proving she can handle anything that’s thrown her way. Been that way ever since Caleb died.”

“I doubt she was counting on this, though,” Grady said. “From what you say, whoever took aim at that bull was up to no good. I don’t want to wait around to see what he has in mind next. I think it’s time to get the sheriff involved.”

“She won’t thank you for that,” Dooley said.

Grady figured that was probably an understatement, but he couldn’t afford to worry about Karen’s reaction. It was more important to keep her safe.

“Once we’re gone, can you call and fill him in?” Grady asked.

Dooley chuckled. “If you think having me do the deed will save your hide, you’re dead wrong, but I’ll do it. Now get those horses saddled before she comes out here and wants to know why the two of us are lollygagging when there’s a crisis.”