More Than Willing by Laura Landon Page A

it’s a good practice to know. There’s always a need to know tricks that work when a good horse comes up lame like that.”
    “Has Mr. Murdock been here yet?”
    Fletcher nodded. “From the anxious look on his face when he came looking for you I’d say something’s wrong.”
    “Did he say anything?”
    “No, he just said he’d wait for you. I expect him any minute.”
    Fletcher barely finished his sentence before there was a rustle at the entrance to the stable and Chester Murdock walked through the stable door.
    “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Fletcher said as Murdock came toward them. “Unless you want me to make myself scarce.”
    Gray shook his head. “If what I suspect is right, you’ll need to hear this too.”
    A frown deepened on Fletcher’s brow but Gray didn’t offer any more in the way of an explanation. He was too focused on what Chester Murdock held in his hand.
    “What’s that?” Fletcher asked when Murdock stopped in front of them.
    “The remains of a broken lantern.”
    Gray took the pieces but knew they wouldn’t be of any help. They were probably from one of the lanterns that hung outside nearly every stall. “Where did you find them?”
    Murdock pointed to the burned out corner of the stable that Gray had asked Murdock not to let anyone touch.
    “Is that all you found?”
    Murdock shook his head. He walked to the opposite side of the barn. Gray and Fletcher followed him through the harness room, then out a side door that led to the back of the brewery compound.
    The familiar slapping sound of the Rushmoore River breaking against the rocky banks covered the rustling sound the three men made as they walked through the overgrown weeds near the side of the wooden stable. Gray looked over his shoulder to the simple cottage Fletcher had let him move into when he first came. It wasn’t much, certainly nothing compared to any of the homes he’d ever lived in, yet this house was more special to him than any of the elegant manor homes that belonged to his father. Maybe because for the first time in his life he was truly thankful to have a roof over his head. Whatever the reason, he enjoyed living a simple life.
    Gray pulled his gaze back to the place where Murdock had stopped and looked to where he pointed. Gray frowned, then sat on his haunches and touched the small mound of straw bunched against the side of the stable.
    “What is it?” Fletcher asked, staring at the darkened straw.
    Gray held it to his nose and smelled. “Oil.”
    “There are three more along the side of the building.” He pointed to three mounds of oil-soaked straw nestled close to the base of the wooden structure. “My guess is that someone threw a lantern in the inside of the stable to start the fire on one side, then intended to make his way out here and set each one of these so there was no way the fire could be put out.”
    “But they were evidently interrupted and didn’t get these set before someone discovered the fire.”
    Murdock nodded his agreement. “And the watchman you told me to post kept them from coming back to get rid of the evidence.”
    “Are you saying the fire was intentional?” Fletcher balled his gnarly fingers into tight fists.
    “It looks that way.” Murdock stared at the mound of soaked straw as if it could tell him who’d put it there. He turned his attention back to Gray. “Do you think this has anything to do with whoever turned the fires up under the hop-boils?”
    “I think there’s a good possibility the two are connected,” Gray replied.
    “But who? Who’d want to do such a thing to Miss Bradford?”
    No one answered, but Gray had a pretty good idea who might have been behind the mysterious accidents. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what was more important – to beat her conniving cousin within an inch of his life, or take Maggie Bradford back into his arms and keep her safe.
    “Assign some men to watch the brewery twenty-four hours a day,” Gray said, as he and