I shook my head. “Nope. This doesn’t feel like him.”
Roy hesitated, then said, “There’s been talk you’re lining up a new buyer for your heifers.”
“So?”
“You know how people are.”
I sighed. “Doesn’t give anyone the right to pull stunts like this.”
Roy held up both hands. “Wasn’t me. You know I don’t play games.”
Surprisingly, he added, “You need help with anything?”
I almost laughed. The irony. But I simply said thanks and left.
The next morning started normal: fed the chickens, checked the herd, walked the fence line with Pepper, my Australian Shepherd mix. She’s fiercely loyal—and protective. When we reached the west pasture, Pepper stopped cold and let out a low growl.
Fresh footprints.
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