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horses there, but he could have taken a couple of his men and William. He should have left Thomas behind. He wouldn’t have seen Anna and wouldn’t have thought of taking her from William once he realized his brother’s interest.
    Too late to change any of that now. It had nothing to do with the work here, but he couldn’t turn his mind from it.
    He’d been asking Anna to come to the ranch ever since William left, but she seemed to have a notion it would be disloyal of her to leave before her husband returned. He needed to make sure she and David were doing all right, ask if they wanted to ride over to his ranch for dinner. Maybe he could finally convince her to stay until William returned.
    He doubted Anna had a disloyal bone in her whole body. So, he’d ask her again.
    The ranch was over the next rise, and he glanced that way again. They’d been moving closer to it as they hunted down the stragglers. Now, he sensed something wasn’t right. The air didn’t smell right, something heavy on it. His stomach rolled as he realized what that smell was.
    “Issac,” he snapped at his son’s foreman. The other man came riding over.
    “What is it, Mr. Bailey?” the older man asked.
    “There’s smoke coming from Will’s ranch. I’m going to go check it out.”
    “Could be from the chimney. Maybe Anna started dinner early.”
    He didn’t think so. “Just have the men get the cows started back toward my place and the holding pen there.”
    He turned the horse and kicked it into a trot. As he rode over the last rise and looked down on his son’s ranch, his stomach rolled, and he felt a burning at the back of his throat.
    The house he’d helped William build was nothing more than a smoking pile of burnt wood and belongings. The barn looked to be about the same. A few horses milled around the yard. Either they’d been let out or had been able to escape during the fire. A whispered curse sounded behind him. At least one man followed him. His mouth was dust dry.
    He urged his horse into a hard lope, barely slowing as he reached the yard and jumped from the saddle beside what was left of the house. The impact of the landing sent pain through his knees, but he ignored it as he stumbled forward.
    Words passed his lips, but he wasn’t sure if they were curses or prayers. He fell to his knees beside her, brushed hair away from her face. She didn’t stir.
    The first thing he noticed was the belt in her mouth. Those were definitely curses dropping from his lips now. She had marks on what had been unmarred skin. Bruises colored her throat, and her dress had ripped. Rope still kept her hands tied together in front of her, even though he hadn’t felt a stirring of breath from her yet. “Anna. Sweet Anna, what did he do to you?”
    She’d fought. She must have fought him. Her dress was torn in more places. There were more bruises on her arms and legs. He couldn’t bear to look for more damage. She’d fought back, and he killed her. How would he ever tell William? And where was David?
    As he pushed back to his feet, Issac called to him.
    “The boy’s still breathing,” the foreman said when Patrick turned to him.
    He hurried over to where the other man stood, tears stinging his eyes. He blinked them back, not wanting any of the men to see that kind of weakness. He dropped down beside his grandson, placing one hand on his back. His vision blurred from those tears he couldn’t keep back, but he felt the stickiness, knew what it was before he’d even pulled his hand away again. He’d also felt the slight rise and fall of his body. He wasn’t sure whether to thank or curse God for that one. He had to be in pain. Patrick didn’t want to move him, not yet. “We’ll get you fixed up, David. I promise.”
    He looked up at the men gathered behind Isaac, had any of them followed his direction to move the cattle? Pain filled the eyes of those who worked for William. “Is there a wagon? We need to get him to the Doc.”
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