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six-hundred-acre pasture.”
    â€œHe had help,” she said flatly. “Have any other ranchers had similar problems?”
    He shook his head. “Not yet.”
    â€œThis is more than just a case of cattle rustling,” she stated. “It sounds like someone is trying to seek revenge.”
    â€œBut I’ll be damned if I can figure out who it is or why they’re doing it,” he agreed. He wasn’t used to talking with a woman about his ranching problems. Nicole had never cared what went on as long as the money kept rolling in.
    â€œHave you checked with the state brand inspectors?” she asked. “They should be able to tell you who brought the cattle into the stockyards. Maybe you could catch them that way.”
    Flint propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. She certainly knew enough about the workings of the cattle industry to implicate her, but then so did most people used to being around livestock. And her shock at the mutilation of the bull seemed genuine.
    Jenna Adams was either a damned good actress or innocent of any involvement. One way or the other, he’d know for sure when the investigator finished running a check on her background.
    â€œOf course I’ve notified the authorities,” he answered. “But the only cattle with the Rocking M brand that have gone through any of the yards are the ones I’ve sent.”
    She arched a brow. “Then where are they? They didn’t just vanish into thin air.”
    â€œThe sheriff found some hides bearing our brand in aremote area about seventy-five miles from here,” Flint answered. “From all indications, the rustlers are butchering the cattle in the back of a refrigerated trailer. By the time they reach the packing house, the beef is dressed out.”
    â€œNo hides. No evidence,” she said, nodding. “But what about the USDA? Why haven’t they caught the uninspected beef?”
    He shrugged. “Who knows? It could be an inspector on the take or a packing house with a counterfeit stamp.”
    He left his chair. “Either way, it doesn’t make much difference. After the events of last night, I’d say they’re getting impatient. It’s just a matter of time now before they screw up.” His voice grew cold, his smile deadly. “And when they do, I’ll be there to nail the bastards.”
    As she rose to her feet, a shiver ran the length of Jenna’s spine. She wouldn’t want to be in the rustlers’ boots when he caught up with them. One look into those intense brown eyes told her Flint McCray could be a very dangerous adversary.
    She felt Flint’s gaze boring a hole into her back as she climbed the stairs and entered her room. In his eyes, she knew no one was above suspicion. Not even her.
    But that didn’t matter. He could think whatever he liked. But if she’d known he had this kind of problem on his hands, she might not have been so insistent that he honor their contract.
    She shook her head and immediately dismissed the thought. Running from trouble was a coward’s way out.
    And no one had ever been able to call Jenna Adams a coward.
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    â€œI tell ya, Jed, I thought I had that truck fixed or I’d a never loaned it to you last night,” Whiskers said, wiping the counter. “If Flint hadn’t said it scared Jenna into hurtin’ herself when it backfired, I’d a sworn you made it up.”
    â€œBelieve me,” Jenna said, entering the kitchen. “It happened.”
    â€œMornin’, Miss Adams.” Jed pointed to her bandaged hand. “After what happened last night, I’ll bet you’re just about ready to cut your losses and run.”
    She shook her head and sat down to a delicious-looking plate of biscuits and gravy. “It’ll take more than a splinter to keep me from training a potential champion.”
    â€œFlint said you got