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were boyish despite the maturity of his thirty-odd years. He stopped within a few feet of the door. “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Jennings. I appreciate it.” He glanced down before looking back, his feet planted to the spot where he stood. “What can I do for you?”
    Kathryn wondered at his reluctance but quickly got to the point. “Have you seen my husband recently, Mr. Taylor?”
    He shook his head. “Not since before Christmas, ma’am. He gave orders for us to stay with the cattle holed up in the north pasture, and that’s where we’ve been all this time, me and some of the other men.” He squinted. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”
    Kathryn briefly debated how much to share with him. Matthew had been in Larson’s employ for over six years, longer than any other ranch hand. She quickly decided the situation warranted it.
    “Larson’s been gone since Christmas Day. He left a note stating that he was heading to the north pasture and that he’d be back by week’s end.” Kathryn felt a sinking feeling inside her chest. Somehow stating the situation out loud made it worse. “He hasn’t come home.”
    Matthew eyed her for a moment before answering. “Five or six feet of snow fell that night, Mrs. Jennings. It was bitter cold.” The look of warning in his eyes completed his thought. “I haven’t seen him. None of us has. I know because, well . . . we’ve been wonderin’ where he is.”
    He started to speak, then stopped. Kathryn encouraged him with a nod.
    “Me and the other men were due to be paid last Friday. We don’t mind havin’ to wait again, as long as we know it’s coming.”
    “What do you mean ‘again’?” Kathryn asked.
    A pained expression creased his forehead. “I don’t know if there’s anything to this, but some of the men . . . they’ve heard that the ranch isn’t doing so well.” He glanced away briefly, shifting his weight. He shook his head before looking back. “They’re worried about their jobs, Mrs. Jennings. Winter’s a hard time for a ranch hand to be out of work. Your husband . . .”
    “My husband what?” she encouraged softly.
    “Well, ’bout a month ago your husband fired Smitty right there on the spot. When I took up for Smitty, Mr. Jennings told me I’d get the same thing if he caught me snoopin’ around.” He shook his head again. “He was real mad.”
    The part about Larson losing his temper wasn’t unimaginable to Kathryn, and that her husband might fire a ranch hand wasn’t either. She didn’t know any of the men personally, except for Matthew. They never came around the cabin. She suddenly realized how very little she knew about the operation of the ranch.
    “Mr. Taylor, is there any chance the man actually did something wrong?”
    “A chance, maybe, but not likely. I’ve worked alongside him now for three years, and Smitty’s a pretty good man.” He glanced down. “You probably don’t know any of this, and maybe I shouldn’t be tellin’ you.”
    Kathryn took a step forward. “I’m concerned for my husband’s safety, Mr. Taylor. If you know something that would help me, I’d appreciate your telling me.”
    “There’s been more trouble.” His voice dropped low, and Kathryn strained to hear. “Just last week we found a portion of fencing torn down again. Cattle are missin’. Some of them are heifers due to drop come spring. The head gates on Fountain Creek are fine though. We shouldn’t have much trouble with that during winter months.”
    “Trouble with the head gates?”
    “Last summer our water supply ran low, and after we found that gate rider—”
    “ Found him?”
    Matthew hesitated again, his mouth forming a firm line. “Yes, ma’am. By the looks of it, he drowned. We found him floatin’ upstream a ways, near the bend in the creek by the hot springs.”
    Something behind Matthew’s eyes, something he wasn’t saying, prompted Kathryn to question him. “But the water’s not that deep there. Did he slip?