“Guess that answers my question on how to get rid of you if the need arises,” Doc Harmon had interjected dryly.

From the way Erline stuck out her tongue, Robin figured her co-workers enjoyed taunting each other.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with him if I were you,” Erline said now as she put away her nail file. “Not since they came out with those little blue pills.”

Robin’s cheeks went hot with embarrassment, but the doc merely gave his receptionist a pained look. “I should sue you for sexual harassment.”

Erline huffed loudly. “Save yourself the attorney fee and just give me a raise, instead.”

The phone on her desk rang before he could reply. With a wink at Robin, Erline pushed the flashing button and picked up the receiver.

“Harmon Veterinary Clinic. How can I help you?”

Doc Harmon’s expression turned serious. “On occasion you and I will be working closely together,” he told Robin in a low voice. “I hope you don’t have a problem with that.”

She could feel her blush deepen. “Of course not. I came here to get experience treating livestock. I’ll do my best to keep my hands off you.”

For a moment his weathered face went blank with surprise, making her afraid she’d gone too far. Then he began to laugh.

“What did I miss?” Erline demanded after she’d written down an appointment in her book and ended her call. “What, what?”

“Nothing,” Robin and the doc answered in unison.

“You’ll do fine,” he told her, still grinning. “Let’s get going.”

Charlie had spent the better part of the morning driving out past his brothers’ ranch to check out a complaint about graffiti sprayed on the side of John Keller’s barn. Ten minutes spent talking to the oldest son had solved the crime, saved Charlie a mound of paperwork and earned the boy a week’s house arrest—and that was after he painted over his artwork.

The day was hot and still, the temperature high even for the end of July, and a cold soda sounded like a heck of a great idea. As he drove through the open gate to the ranch, barely glancing at the neatly painted wood sign, he chuckled at the thought of the Keller boy’s expression when Charlie had confronted him with the spray can hidden in his room. The boy had gone pale, his freckles standing out like rust spots on his guilty face.

Charlie slowed the Cherokee as he drove past the two-story ranch house where Travis lived with his red-haired wife and their four children. As usual, the wide front porch was hung with baskets of brightly-colored flowers, but today the backyard swings and wading pool were empty. Rory’s van was gone, too. No point in stopping.

Young Keller’s misdeed reminded Charlie of some of the stunts he and his brothers had pulled as kids, but his grin faded at the memory of their father’s wrath and the punishments he gave. Jason had gotten off easy today, apparently unaware of worse consequences than repainting and restriction for childish pranks. Garth Winchester hadn’t believed in sparing the rod, the belt or his fists.

The sight of Adam’s black pickup parked by the door to the stable was a welcome distraction, as was the idea of a cold soda from the tack room fridge. That and asking if any more dead cattle had been found were reasons enough to stop by, if Charlie had needed a reason.

When he walked into the cool, dim interior of the broodmare barn, he spotted Adam and his stepson, David, home on summer break from college. Both men were watching an Appaloosa dam and her offspring in one of the roomy stalls.

“Don’t you two have any real work to do?” Char lie asked as he joined them. “I thought the Appies were supposed to be a hobby.”

“Not for several years now.” Adam hadn’t taken his attention from the leopard-spotted colt in the stall with his mother. “Can’t get rich raising cattle in this market.”

Charlie knew the industry had been depressed for years. Only careful management kept many of the lo cal ranches from going under. Even an operation as large as theirs felt the pinch.

“What’s new?” he asked David as a greeting. “Still seeing that Parker girl?”

David shrugged. His lean frame had filled out some in the last year. When he’d first come to Colorado with his mother from L.A. half a decade ago, his hair was orange, his clothes were bizarre and he’d sported a chip on his shoulder the size of a cow pie. Now he looked more like a local to Charlie than some of the kids who’d been born here.

“Joey and I aren’t serious,” David replied, tugging on the brim of his ball cap. “We’ll probably break up before I go back to school.”

“You sound like your uncle,” Adam remarked as he finally turned his back on the horses. “Love-’em-and-leave-’em Winchester.”

“Give the kid some time,” Charlie said. “He’s barely old enough to drink without getting busted, and he hasn’t finished college yet. The last thing he needs to think about is getting serious about some girl looking for a ring.”