Because Wyatt had dragged something private into public ridicule.
Caleb moved.
Fast.
He caught Wyatt by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the cookhouse post.
The yard erupted.
Men stepped forward.
Abigail shouted, “Caleb!”
He held Wyatt there.
“Say one more thing about her that has nothing to do with that meat.”
Wyatt smiled despite the pressure.
“Hit me.”
Caleb’s fist tightened.
“Go ahead.”
That was what Wyatt wanted.
A fight.
A distraction.
Abigail saw it.
“Caleb.”
Her voice changed.
Quiet.
He heard.
He released Wyatt.
Wyatt straightened his shirt.
Smug.
Abigail walked toward the bundle.
She did not touch it.
She looked carefully.
Hide.
Blood.
Tag.
Brand.
Something bothered her.
“What time were the goats discovered missing?”
Caleb answered.
“Before dawn.”
“How do you know?”
“Red Hollow sent a rider around nine.”
Abigail looked at the blood.
Still wet-looking in places.
Dark.
Sticky.
She leaned closer.
Smelled it.
Wyatt laughed.
“What, checking seasoning?”
Abigail ignored him.
She looked at the cloth.
Then the hide.
Then the table underneath.
No blood smear.
That mattered.
If this fresh hide had been under the table during cooking, in afternoon heat, wrapped wet in cloth, fluid should have soaked through.
The wood was dry.
She touched the underside shelf beside where Wyatt claimed to find it.
Dust.
Unbroken except for one dragged line.
Recently placed.
Abigail straightened.
“This wasn’t here long.”
Wyatt smiled.
“Says you.”
She pointed at the wood.
“No blood.”
“So?”
“The cloth is wet.”
Wyatt shrugged.
“Maybe it didn’t leak.”
“It did.”
Abigail pointed toward the lower fold.
A red drop formed.
Fell.
Hit the dirt.
“If that had been beneath my table since morning, the shelf would be stained.”
Caleb crouched.
Checked.
He looked at Wyatt.
Wyatt’s smile weakened.
One cowboy muttered, “She’s right.”
Abigail continued.
“And the meat I bought was already butchered.”
Wyatt said, “Meaning?”
“No hide.”
She pointed to the bundle.
“No hooves. No head. No organs. Whoever stole those animals and butchered them would have had waste.”
Caleb stood.
“Could be anywhere.”
“Yes.”
Abigail looked across the yard.
“But not here.”
Wyatt laughed again.
“You expect us to believe some thief planted evidence under your table?”
Abigail looked directly at him.
“I expect nothing from you.”
Then she turned to Caleb.