Mike and Hannah watched while Winnie rinsed the pan and dried it on a dishtowel. Then she carried it to the window and peered at the inside of the pan. “Yup,” she said. “It’s mine, all right.”

“How can you tell?” Hannah asked her.

“There’s an S scratched inside. That’s for Sadie, my mother’s name. She baked a lot of pies just like me, and she gave a lot away. That way, if people gave her back the wrong pie tin, she knew right away that it wasn’t hers.”

Hannah was about to ask another question when the outside kitchen door opened and four men came in. One was Connor. Hannah recognized him, but she didn’t know any of the other three.

“You recognize Hannah, don’t you, Connor?” Winnie said to her head horse wrangler and ranch manager.

“Sure do. Hi, Hannah.” Connor hung his hat on the hook by the back door and gave Hannah a friendly smile. “I recognize Mike, too. Hello there, Mike.”

“Hello, Connor,” Mike said, smiling back. “What happened to your hand?”

Connor looked a little sheepish. “I let a horse get the best of me instead of the other way around. I finally got him to behave, but it wasn’t easy.”

“He’s a new one and I named him Diablo,” Winnie told them. “If the rein hadn’t snapped, that stallion would have broken Connor’s hand.”

“It’s true, but Diablo didn’t break it, and the swelling’s better today. I think I’ll be able to take off the bandage by the end of the week.”

“Glad to hear it,” Winnie said, gesturing toward the three younger men. “You boys go ahead and introduce yourselves to Miss Swensen and Deputy Kingston. And when you’re through with the niceties, go wash up for noon dinner.”

Hannah turned toward the three ranch hands. One was a bit older than the other two, but she suspected that if the three of them added up their ages, the sum wouldn’t be more than sixty years. “You’re working summer jobs?” she asked them.

“Yes, ma’am,” one of the boys said. “I’m Brad and this is my little brother, Dave. And this here’s a friend of ours, Jim.”

“Connor knows their father,” Winnie explained. “He’s a breeder from Mankato and these boys grew up around horses. They’re real hard workers and we’re lucky to have ’em for the summer. They’re not like some of the slackers that come here looking for work.”

It was the perfect opening and Hannah seized it by taking out the flyer with the photo of the dead man. “Do you boys know that someone stole one of Winnie’s blackberry pies on Friday morning?”

“We heard,” Brad said, the obvious spokesman for the group.