In the room’s lone chair positioned by the oil lantern and the unheated stove, Judd had his Bible open on his lap. Somewhere in his middle years, Judd had the coloring of an old man, a head full of thick white hair, a white beard, fluffy white eyebrows, and a long handlebar mustache.

Apparently, Judd had been with Wyatt from the start of the ranch. He didn’t ride with the cowhands often anymore. Instead he kept watch over the goings-on closer to home. He’d always spent more time with Greta and the children than he did anyone else. While he wasn’t much of a talker, he was a beloved father and grandfather figure to everyone who lived there.

Judd met Jericho’s gaze levelly. “You always were sufferin’ with Cupid’s cramp around her.”

Jericho wanted to pretend he didn’t know who Judd was referring to. But it wasn’t worth the effort. “She’s like a sister to me. That’s all.”

Judd released a low harrumph, one that told Jericho just how little he believed him. The older man turned the page in his Bible and dropped his attention back to his reading, but not before Jericho saw the twinkle in the man’s eyes.

Jericho pulled in another puff, rolled the cherry tobacco smoke around in his mouth, then exhaled it while dragging his focus back to the notes in front of him, ignoring the flush creeping up his neck. He wasn’t about to let himself dwell on Ivy. He’d done enough of that for one day.

He picked up his pencil and jotted another note about Hance before comparing him to the small black-and-white photograph he had of Rodney James. Taken at the start of the War of Succession, it showed Rodney with a scraggly beard and mustache. He wore his bowler hat low over long hair, shielding his eyes. He was of medium height without any other features that set him apart.

The lack of identifying qualities made the tracking down difficult, especially because Rodney had likely done all he could to change his appearance, no doubt giving himself a clean-cut look without all the facial hair.

After only two days back, Jericho had listed at least a dozen men who could fit Rodney’s vague physical profile. And after a few more days of digging around, he’d be able to list a dozen more.

Of course, he had a short list of other indicators. He knew the man had asthma, had a traumatic childhood of abuse from his father, had eventually lived with his elderly grandmother before joining the war efforts, and had never been married.

But still, it wasn’t much to go on.

Judd cleared his throat. “You can pull your hat down and ride blind ’round a swamp. But that’s a surefire way to get stuck.”