"Cottonwood Bend?"
"Yes."
"Thomas Fletcher's wife?"
Catherine's expression tightened.
"His widow."
Samuel's smile disappeared.
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
She released his hand.
There was no invitation to discuss it.
Samuel understood.
He counted the money.
Catherine checked every coin.
Then she produced a list.
"Flour. Beans. Coffee. Salt. Lamp oil. Rope. Needles. Leather cord. Medicine."
Samuel glanced at the list.
"That's quite a supply run."
"I live forty miles away."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
He hesitated.
Then he looked through the window.
A man stood across the street beside the sheriff's office.
Black vest.
Dusty boots.
Silver badge.
Deputy Elias Vane.
Samuel's eyes narrowed.
Catherine noticed.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
Samuel paused.
"Nothing yet."
Before Catherine could ask what that meant, the bell above the door rang.
Deputy Vane entered.
He was a handsome man in his early forties, with carefully combed dark hair and a smile that never quite reached his eyes.
He removed his hat.
"Afternoon."
Samuel nodded.
"Deputy."
Vane looked toward Catherine.
Then toward the stack of supplies.
Then toward the rifle leaning beside her saddle outside.
"Mrs. Fletcher?"
"Catherine."
"You're from Cottonwood Bend."
"Yes."
"I've heard of your place."
"I doubt that."
Vane smiled.
"Small country. News travels."
Catherine said nothing.
He walked closer.
"Must be difficult living so far out."
"It has its advantages."
"Like what?"
"Privacy."
Samuel looked down.
Vane laughed.
"Of course."
He rested one hand on the counter.
"Roads aren't safe these days."
"I've managed."
"People change."
"So do roads."
The deputy studied her.
"Still, a woman alone ought to be careful."
Catherine picked up her supply list.
"I am."
His gaze moved to the revolver beneath her coat.
"I can see that."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Vane leaned slightly closer.
"Which part of Cottonwood Bend?"
Catherine looked directly into his eyes.
"North."
"Near the Fletcher ranch?"
"No."
His smile returned.
"I thought it was."
"You were mistaken."
"Perhaps."
He stepped aside.
Catherine gathered her purchases.
As she walked toward the door, Vane spoke again.
"Planning to ride back today?"
"Yes."
"That's unfortunate."
She stopped.
"Why?"
"Storm coming."
Catherine looked through the window.
The sky was clear.
Not a cloud.
She looked back at him.
"Doesn't look like rain."
"Weather changes quickly."
"So do roads."
She walked out.
Samuel followed.
He waited until Catherine was tightening Juniper's saddle before speaking.
"You should stay."
She glanced at him.
"Why?"
"Because Vane knows too much about people who live outside town."
"He's a deputy."
"That doesn't answer my concern."
Catherine finished tying the rope.
"What happened?"
Samuel looked toward the sheriff's office.
"Last winter, a woman named Ruth Mallory disappeared."
Catherine stopped.
"Where did she live?"
"About twenty miles north."
"What happened?"
"Her horses vanished first."
"And then?"
"She vanished."
"Found?"
Samuel shook his head.
"Never."
Catherine looked toward Deputy Vane.
He was standing outside the sheriff's office.
Watching them.
Samuel lowered his voice.
"Stay tonight."
Catherine considered it.
Then she smiled faintly.
"Mr. Bell."
"Samuel."
"Samuel. If I stayed every time a man told me something might be dangerous, I'd never leave my own porch."