“There is when he’s an abusive asshole,” she muttered. “Let me get the sheriff’s department involved. They’ll open an investigation—”
“That will take months. Those horses don’t have that kind of time.”
Somewhere along the line, people had begun to report this kind of thing to Lor, knowing she’d bring it to me. A man had stopped her in the feed store and whispered that he was concerned about Chambers’ horses. I’d done my recon, and it was bad. The man’s ranch was struggling, and he was taking his frustrations out on the animals around him.
Lor blew out a breath. “You’re gettin’ yourself caught up in things you shouldn’t. One day, it’s gonna come back to bite you.”
I made a sound that wasn’t agreement or disagreement, just an acknowledgment that I’d heard her.
Lor picked up her rocking again. “I saw the girl.”
I took another sip of my beer, not meeting Lor’s gaze. Shiloh typically had a kind of radar for when Lor was around and stayed away, but Lor had seen her more than once now, and it was making her edgy.
“I’m not sure her being here is a good idea.”
I knew that. There was no doubt in my mind that it was a horrible idea to let Shiloh Easton come and go from my property at will. But I couldn’t stop myself. Those flashes of understanding had become some of the best parts of my day.
Lor let out a sound of frustration. “You know how protective her family is of her. And given all she’s been through, I don’t blame them. But her brother’s the damn sheriff. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out she’s making little field trips over here?”
He’d lose his shit. My grip on the bottle tightened, but I forced myself to keep rocking.
Lor sighed. “I’m not saying this to be an ass. I worry about you. You might’ve been exonerated, but to lots of folks around here, you’re still an ex-con.”
And, to them, that was all I’d ever be.