Showdown at Widow Creek Read Online Free Page A

and examined it more closely. “This didn’t break on its own. Someone cut it.”
    “What?” I asked.
    Sarah dropped the strap and raised her arms. “Everyone stop where you are,” she ordered. “Lucky! Check everyone’s cinch straps.”
    “You got it,” Lucky replied. He slid off his horse and began ducking under the other riders’ horses.
    Wally pulled the chuck wagon close. “Frank, get Joe to the back of the wagon,” he said. “Then help Lucky check those straps, starting with yours.”
    “I can make it the rest of the way,” I told my brother. “Go on and help.”
    He stared at me with worry in his eyes. “You sure?”
    I smiled. “I’m fine, bro.”
    I limped to the back of the wagon, wincing in pain as I climbed in. It was a good thing Frank wasn’t around to see that; I’d never get rid of him.
    Wally climbed out of the driver’s seat and joined me. “How do you feel, son? Think you broke anything?”
    Why did everybody keep asking me that? Now I wasn’t so sure.
    “I don’t think so,” I said, twisting at the waist.
    Wally chuckled. “Well, if you did, you wouldn’t be able to do that without screaming like a bobcat. Though I’ll wager you’ll be stiff as blazes tomorrow.”
    Sarah, Frank, and the other ranch hands strode over to us. They each dropped a cinch strap into the back of the wagon.
    “Every last one of them is cut,” said Lucky. He picked up one of the straps and pointed. Each strap was made from several rows of small, soft rope. Lucky pointed out a thin cut crossing all the strands; each rope was almost sliced in half. “I’m surprised it took this long for one to go,” he added.
    “Every one is cut but mine and Lucky’s,” said Sarah. “We both have solid straps.”
    “There’s a feed store about five miles from here,” Lucky said. “I can ride over there and get us some more straps.”
    Wally tightened his lips and shook his head. “No, that’ll put us too far behind schedule.” He opened a nearby wooden crate and pulled out another cinch, looking it over before tossing it to my brother. “Frank, re-saddle your horse, then help Sarah and Lucky round up the cattle.”
    Frank glanced at Ned and Dusty. “Wouldn’t someone with more experience be better for that?”
    Wally smiled. “Fine. What’s your experience repairing cinch straps?”
    Frank shook his head. “None.”
    “That’s what I thought,” said Wally. “The boys will stay here and help with that while you get some on-the-job training rounding up strays. Less of a learning curve in that department.”
    “Yes, sir,” said Frank. He followed Lucky and Sarah back to the horses.
    Ned and Dusty grabbed a couple of straps each and strode over to Mr. Jackson and the Muellers. “Lots of things can happen on the trail, folks,” Dusty announced. “Today’s first lesson is a cowboy quick fix.”
    While the ranch hands took care of the paying guests, Wally dug a pocketknife out of his pocket and began to cut the cinches all the way through. “I’ll show you how to tie these back together. There are a couple of knots that should hold enough for us to get back to the ranch.”
    Wally showed me how to tie the knots; I watched him carefully, trying to mimic the same technique. But all the while, the question on my mind was the one no one had asked. So finally, I asked it. “Who would cut all the straps?”
    Wally stopped working. “I’ve been pondering the same question. I know Mike and Tim tried to steal Hondo, but why would they cut our cinches, too? It’s not like we’d chase them on horseback.”
    “That’s a good point,” I said. I untied my clumsy knot and tried again. “The motive isn’t clear.”
    “Motive?” Wally asked. “Like in a mystery?”
    “Well, sure,” I replied. “Every crime has a motive, such as money or revenge.”
    Wally grinned. “Sounds like you watch a lot of those true-crime shows.”
    “Not really,” I replied. “Well, I do, but that’s not why I know