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he'd left the coffeepot and dirty dishes soaking in a sink full of sudsy bleach water the night before. There was just enough coffee in the canister to make a pot. He spooned some into the basket filter and made a mental note to add coffee to his grocery list as he thoroughly rinsed out the now mold-free glass pot.
    After plugging in the coffeemaker, he filled its tank with water and listened to it gurgle to life.
    Just as he poured his first cup, the telephone rang. Quint crossed to the wall-mounted phone and Iifted the receiver.
    "Cee Bar Ranch."
    His mother's familiar voice responded, "I was hoping I wouldn't waken you."
    "You didn't," he assured her. "As a matter of fact, i'm drinking coffee and making a grocery list.
    The cupboards here are bare." "What are you going to do for breakfast?" she asked with instant concern.
    "I'm looking out the window at a bunch of chickens scratching in the yard. There's bound to be some eggs somewhere out there waiting to be gathered."
    There was an element of relief in her soft laughter. "Sometimes I forget how resourceful you've always been."
    "Now you've been reminded." Affection gentled his voice. "I thought you would have left for Laura's wedding by now."
    "We're about to walk out the door, but I wanted to call you first and tell you good-bye."
    "Let Laura and Sebastian know I'll be thinking about them."
    "I will. And you take care of yourself down there."
    It was his own suspicion of trouble coming that made him admonish, "Don't start worrying Page 11

    about me, Mom."
    "I'm not," she said with ease. "I don't think you realize how proud I am that Jessy wanted you to put things back in order at the Cee Bar. It shows that she recognizes you can shoulder that kind of responsibility. I hope you can see that so we won't have to argue anymore about how much of an asset you can be to the Triple C."
    "We would just argue about something else," Quint teased.
    That drew the expected protest from her. They talked a few minutes more before exchanging final good-byes. Quint hung up and finished his coffee, then unhooked his denim jacket from the chair back and headed out the door.
    The instant the screen door banged shut behind him, the rusty red chickens in the yard ran to meet him, clucking noisily. Their clamor was echoed by the eager whickering of the horses in the small fenced pasture next to the barn.
    "We all have empty stomachs this morning, don't we?" Quint remarked as the chickens crowded around him, clucking and flapping their wings.
    They trailed after him, running to keep up with his long strides as he struck out for the barn. The grain barrel was empty of all but the bottom leavings. He dumped that out for the chickens and looked through the rest of the barn. He found a half dozen eggs, but only one square hay bale.
    He used an empty grain bucket for an egg basket and set it out by the barn door. The four horses in the corral broke into eager whickers at the sight of Quint with the bucket. A big bay gelding whinned a shrill protest when he disappeared back inside the barn.
    A few seconds later Quint emerged from its shadows, carrying the bale by its twine. Short of the fence, he broke the bale apart and, one by one, tossed its squares into the corral. The landing of the first brought a flurry of flying hooves and bared teeth, but the squabbling soon ended as each horse tore eagerly into its own mound of hay. He watched in grim silence, aware there was too littIe hay to satisfy their empty bellies and that the few patches of grass in the large corral had already been chewed to the roots.
    It was one more thing Quint held against the former ranch manager. Walking off the job without telling anyone was bad enough, but leaving without turning the horses loose was something that Quint couldn't easily forgive.
    After dragging a hose from the barn and filling the corral's water tank, Quint carried the egg pail to the house and scrambled some eggs. Breakfast finished and washed down with a