Caleb looked at Jasper.
“Key.”
“No.”
Caleb’s voice lowered.
“Last time.”
Jasper pulled it from pocket and threw.
Caleb caught.
Inside lay wagon repair tools.
Grease.
Spare bolts.
A wrapped cloth bundle.
Caleb opened it.
Cash.
Not hundreds.
Sixty-four dollars.
Enough.
Also two letters.
Jasper’s face drained.
Caleb unfolded first.
Read.
His expression changed.
Henrietta saw anger, then disbelief.
“What?”
Caleb handed it to her.
The letter came from Amos Jenkins.
Higgins, keep commissary spending under seventy-five total after Tascosa. Use existing invoices to balance trail book. Men can live on beans and pork if Lawson complains. Difference settles against the advance we discussed when herd sells. Do not let Lawson see the full Tascosa statements.
Henrietta read twice.
Caleb stared into fire.
Jenkins.
The ranch owner.
The man who hired her.
The man who told Caleb she was all he could afford.
The second letter was worse.
Any cattle lost between Palo Duro and Dodge are to be entered at twenty-five per head. We can settle private count after sale.
Caleb’s face went still.
Saul whispered:
“Lord.”
Jasper spoke quickly.
“It isn’t what you think.”
Caleb turned.
“What do I think?”
Jasper’s confidence cracked.
“Jenkins was balancing debt.”
“What debt?”
“Mine.”
“You owed him?”
Jasper looked away.
Henrietta understood.
Gambling.
Advance.
Something.
Caleb continued.
“And cattle?”
Jasper said nothing.
“How many?”
Silence.
Caleb stepped closer.
“How many head have you been peeling off?”
The camp changed.
Food forgotten.
Every cowboy now understood the stakes.
A trail drive measured lives in cattle.
Every missing head became lost profit.
Lost wages.
Potential blame.
Jasper finally said:
“None yet.”
Caleb laughed without humor.
“Yet.”
“Higgins.”
“You’re done riding point.”
“Give me gun.”
Jasper stared.
“You think I’m thief?”
Caleb held out hand.
“I think you are desperate man carrying orders to steal from men who trust you.”
“Gun.”
Jasper’s face twisted.
He unbuckled belt and threw it into dirt.
Then he pointed at Henrietta.
“This started because of her.”
Nobody moved.
Henrietta felt old familiar instinct to shrink.
She refused.
“No,” she said.
“This started because you kept receipts.”
Jasper stepped toward her.
Levi moved between before Caleb could.
The youngest man in camp.
Nineteen.
Thin.
Usually quiet.
He looked terrified.
He stood anyway.
Jasper laughed.
“Move, boy.”
Levi swallowed.
“No.”
Something changed in camp.
Jasper looked around.
No one stood with him.