Bringing news that chased the smile of a friend was never enjoyable, but it was a situation easily rectified. He was meant to be back in town in a few hours, but he'd make time to ride out and cover her if she meant to relay the rules to her new guests.
Bear nodded, climbing off his horse while Marta had the mare's attention. "Eight of them. They're set up outside the caves. Can't have been there more than a few hours." The grass wasn't well pressed and they hadn't pitched camp. "Vaqueros. They're not Black's. I haven't seen them before."
Mindful not to bother his horse, he took the deer's legs in hand to remove it from her back. "Where do you want this?" It had been killed on her property; it wasn't his. The deer had been shot too high up on the neck, however. The meat would be gamey from the spike of adrenaline that came with a slow death. It would probably only be good for leather and bone. Shame. He waited for her preference.