Picking Up the Pieces

by Carolina Mac

  “Not today, Ricki. I have to take care of Clay. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait to see you.”

  Jack rolled his eyes as we walked to the truck. “Ricki never gives up on you, Logy. Ever since high school she’s had the hots for you. Give her a break.”

  I shook my head at my little brother.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sunday, April 19th.

  McKenna Ranch.

  JACKY and I did chores on our own and left Clay in bed sleeping, exactly where he was supposed to be. We had to make sure he took his meds on time and got enough rest, but Clay was a hard one to hold down. He was restless and always on the move. The only time he sat still and seemed calm was when he was playing his guitar, but that wasn’t possible for a couple of weeks at least.

  We checked the pasture fields, and Presto seemed like his old self, ambling around amongst the cows, munching on grass and not letting too much bother him.

  After we finished at the barn, I took a look in the bunkhouse. “We’ll have to clean up if we’ve got a couple of guys moving in.”

  “Yep,” said Jacky. “We’ll tackle it after breakfast. Then we’ll call on Mrs. Tate.”

  “Or you can take care of Mrs. Tate while I work on the charts with Fiona. I don’t feel like doing those today, but I have to start.”

  “You’ll have more time when we get a new hired hand or two,” said Jack.

  Clay was sitting at the kitchen table when we went in for breakfast. “You look a little better. Your arm bother you while you were sleeping?”

  “I woke up once and took the pain pills and I was okay. I made coffee with one arm.” Clay grinned.

  “Thanks, we could use some.”

  DOCTOR Lonnigan came around one o’clock to help me in the office. I was tired, out of sorts for all kinds of reasons and didn’t feel like having a woman telling me to get on with it. I tried to hide my irritation but didn’t do it well enough.

  “You don’t seem to be yourself today, Logan. Is it something I did?”

  “No, it’s just everything piling up and now we have no help with the ranch until I hire new people, and Clay is hurting and trying to say he’s okay.”

  “Aw… she sprung off her chair, rounded the desk and kissed me, her hand behind my head, her chest pushing into me. To say I was surprised was an understatement. “There. Is that better?” She gave me a wide smile.

  I blinked and listened to my heart pounding. “You caught me off guard, Fiona. I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

  She giggled. “Impulse kissing.”

  “Right. Impulse kissing.” My day was going to hell at lightning speed. I quickly spread out the charts on the desk and kept my head down, so impulse kissing didn’t happen again.

  One impulse kiss was enough for me. Once Fiona kissed me I knew for sure, she wasn’t the one for me. There was no spark at all between us and I wanted to run the other way.

  Tate Residence.

  JACK headed into Broken Spur before Doctor Lonnigan came to help Logan in the office. He picked up a loaf of bread, some canned goods, milk and a few other items at the grocery store and drove out to the Tate place to check on Buster’s mother.

  When he arrived, he didn’t see her around. The goats were bouncing and jumping and generally annoying him while he carried the bags of groceries onto the porch.

  Jack hollered in the screen door. “Mrs. Tate. Jack McKenna here. I brought you some stuff from the store.”

  He waited for a few minutes and she didn’t show up. He hollered louder. “Mrs. Tate, are you okay?”

  After checking all around the outside of the house and looking in the goat pen, Jack figured she could only be inside. He picked up the groceries, walked in and set the bags on the kitchen table. “Mrs. Tate, you here?”

  Jack inhaled a deep breath not liking the feeling he was getting. It was way too quiet. He took a quick run through the house and hesitated to open the bathroom door. But he manned up and did it.

  “There you are.” He whipped out his phone and called 911, then he called Logan.

  McKenna Ranch.

  FEARING more of Fiona’s impulse kissing, I kept the desk between us as a buffer zone and kept my head down. I was working my butt off, sweating it out following Fiona Lonnigan’s instructions. The cattle charts were filled out, alphabetized and in a workable order when my cell rang.

  Glad of the diversion, I grabbed for the phone. “Jacky, what’s up?”

  “Waiting for an ambulance, Logy. Mrs. Tate is unconscious on her bathroom floor.”

  “I’ll be right there. Hold on.”

  “What is it, Logan?”

  “Jack’s at Mrs. Tate’s house and he called for an ambulance.”

  “We better get over there.” Fiona was on her feet and reaching for her purse.”

  “I can handle it, if you’re busy,” I said. She was sticking to me like glue and I didn’t like the sticky feeling.

  “It’s Sunday. I have time.”

  Tate Residence.

  I got to the Tate place a few minutes before the ambulance. They had to come from Preston and our ranch was only a couple of miles away.

  Jacky was pacing on the porch with a cigarette in his mouth, watching the laneway for the ambulance.

  I parked and hopped out. “Where is she?”

  “In the bathroom, Logy. She’s breathing, but I can’t wake her up.”

  Fiona ran inside the house to help Mrs. Tate and we waited on the porch.

  “We have to find Buster, Logy. His mama is in a bad way. She can’t stay here by herself.”

  “If the sheriff is too busy to talk to Micky Swain, we’ll have to do it,” I said.

  “Yep, we have to try.” Jack pointed up the county road. “I hear the siren.”

  The ambulance arrived, the paramedics jumped out and Jack showed them where Mrs. Tate was. The two young medics had Mrs. Tate on a stretcher and in the back of the ambulance inside of a couple of minutes. We had no idea what had happened to her and couldn’t answer any of their questions.

  “I’ll pick up my truck at your ranch and go to the hospital,” said Fiona. “I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

  “Okay, sure,” I said.

  “I’ll feed the goats and come home,” said Jacky. “We’ll make a plan to go talk to Micky Swain.”

  McKenna Ranch.

  AFTER dinner we got Clay settled on the sofa in front of the TV. He had argued black and blue that he was coming with us to Micky Swain’s trailer and Jacky and I were hard pressed to convince him otherwise. Clay had inherited a little more of Daddy’s stubborn streak than me and Jacky.

  Finally, he gave in and said he’d hold the fort while we went on our scouting trip, but we weren’t to stop into the Spur for a pitcher without him.

  “We’ll have a beer with you when we get back,” I said. “Try not to move around too much while we’re gone.”

  “I’m a model patient,” said Clay.

  Jacky and I both snorted.

  North of Preston.

  ALL the lights were on in Micky Swain’s trailer when we got there. Swain’s dark blue Ram was parked in the driveway beside two Harleys I didn’t recognize, and one old pickup that looked way too familiar.

  “This gets worse and worse, Jacky. We were trusting all the wrong people.”

  “You’re not kidding, Logy. It ain’t just Harper who’s a traitor and one of the bad guys.”

  “Should we go in or just leave it be for now?”

  “We’re getting a clear picture of who our enemies are, Logy. When the time comes, we won’t be caught with our pants down and no bullet in the chamber.”

  We drove back home depressed and feeling more betrayed, and as we passed through Broken spur, it was a hard temptation to resist stopping in at the roadhouse to drown our disappointment in a couple of pitchers of Lone Star. But we promised Clay.

  We drove straight home instead.

  McKenna Ranch.

  CLA
Y was dozing in front of the TV when we got back. I sat down in Daddy’s old recliner while Jacky boy got three cold ones out of the fridge for us.

  “What did y’all find out?” asked Clay.

  “Micky had company when we got there,” I said, “so we didn’t go in.”

  “Anybody we know?” asked Clay.

  “Kate’s truck was parked in his driveway.” I almost choked on the words. We had trusted those girls and given them jobs and a home.

  Clay’s eyes widened. “No way. All of the girls are tight with Micky Swain?”

  “Looks that way.” I took a long pull on the beer that Jack handed me. “Can hardly believe it myself.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Monday, April 20th.

  McKenna Ranch.

  CLAY had a bad night and Jacky and I left him sleeping and headed straight to the barn when we got up at dawn.

  “What are we gonna do when the thieves make bail this morning?” asked Jack. “You have an idea?”

  “I hope Harper doesn’t get bail,” I said. “What she did makes her worse than the others.”

  “True enough,” said Jack. “Maybe the judge will realize that.”

  “I have two guys coming for interviews at nine and ten,” I said. “The one you should follow from the courthouse is Carson. She’s an instigator and I’m betting she’s the one at the bottom of the whole shady deal.”

  “Okay.” Jack’s lip curled. “I never liked her from day one.”

  “See where she runs to or who picks her up. If she’s behind all of it, she has to know where Buster is. Right now, he’s our main focus. We got Presto back, but we have to find Buster and get him to the hospital before Mrs. Tate dies from worry.”

  “As soon as we have breakfast, I’ll head for the courthouse.”

  “I’ll take care of Clay and talk to the two guys who answered our ad.”

  “Hope they’re hard workers,” said Jack. “A lot of work is piling up on the ranch while we’re out running around chasing thieves and getting shot.” Jacky clenched his fist. “Shoot one of the McKenna brothers and you shoot all of us.”

  I nodded my head in agreement. “You’re right, Jacky. It’s the same.” I smiled at my brother. “If the guys who show up aren’t good workers, I’m not hiring them. I’ll phone their former employers and double check.”

  “We ain’t paying people to steal from us,” said Jack. “It ain’t happening twice.”

  Jack was worked up after all that had happened to us and I didn’t blame him. My blood was boiling too.

  Preston Courthouse.

  JACK took a seat in the back row of the courthouse and he was surprised how many people were there before nine in the morning. The news of what happened to Bonnie Sue had spread, and people who knew her wanted to see who had shot the deputy sheriff and what was going to happen to them for doing it.

  The bailiff called the first case and Paul Silverstone came out of the ante-room and stood in front of the judge next to his lawyer. Jack didn’t know any lawyers, but there were a couple of firms in Preston. Probably dozens in Lubbock.

  The charges were read, and the judge asked, “How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty,” said Silverstone.

  “How can he be not guilty?” Jack mumbled to himself. “He’s as guilty as sin.”

  The judge granted Paul bail and moved onto the next case number who turned out to be Doyle Hutton. Doyle also had a lawyer and the procedure was much the same. He pleaded ‘not guilty’ to all the charges against him and was granted bail. Off he went.

  The third case called was Carson Wagoner. Jack sat up straight, keen to listen to what lies Miss Carson was going to tell the judge. She could run her mouth better than any person he knew.

  The clerk read the charges and the list was long. Carson pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the whole list. “I was framed and railroaded in this one-jerk town, your honor. All the charges against me are a bunch of hogwash and I should be released on my own recognizance. I’m an upstanding citizen and a business woman.”

  The judge listened, then set the amount of her bail. She stomped off with the bailiff into the next room.

  Lastly, Miss Harper Gabriel was brought into the courtroom and she too had an attorney with her. Nobody Jack knew. Harper was swishing her red hair around, smiling at her lawyer and openly flirting with him—much like she’d done with Clay, and look what it got him. Maybe that’s how she was paying her lawyer’s bill.

  She pleaded ‘not guilty’ like the rest of her pals had done, but when it came to the amount of bail, the judge set hers much higher than the others.

  Her lawyer argued. “That seems like an awfully high amount, your honor, and much more than Miss Gabriel can afford to pay.”

  “Attempted murder of a police officer during the discharge of her duties is a serious crime, sir,” said the judge. “Bail stands at two hundred thousand dollars.” The gavel came down hard and that was that.

  Whether Harper could raise the twenty thousand she needed for the bond wasn’t Jack’s concern. He hoped to hell and back she couldn’t do it.

  He strode outside, hopped into his truck and got ready to follow Carson Wagoner.

  McKenna Ranch.

  MY first applicant arrived at the ranch at ten minutes to nine. I was sitting on the porch with Clay and we both had coffee. The dogs were stretched out beside us, the day was sunny, warm and beautiful—a great day to be alive in Texas.

  The first guy needing a job was a little older than I’d pictured him when I was talking to him on the phone. Tall with a dark weathered tan and broad shoulders, he looked like he could throw a bale or two, and that’s what counted. Ranch work was hard, physical work. He looked to be in better shape than his truck.

  Couldn’t be an old Fargo that he’d restored, but maybe it was. Interesting. Needed more investigation. He had a horse trailer painted in the same dark blue hooked on behind. A man who brought his own horse was a man you could trust.

  I walked down the porch steps and offered my hand. “Logan McKenna.”

  He smiled as he shook my hand. “Clint Downing. Happy to meet you, Logan. Always followed you when you were competing. I hoped you would come out of retirement one day.”

  I chuckled. “Been thinking of it lately. I’m tutoring a couple of hopefuls and I’ve been practicing a lot.”

  “Be great if you did. You’ve got a lot of fans out there waiting for your comeback.”

  “Thanks.” I pointed to the chairs on the porch. Have a seat and tell me about yourself and why you’re looking for work.”

  “I worked the same ranch for years. The owner died recently, and his widow is selling the place. I had to move on, but you can call her. She said she’d give me a good recommendation.”

  “Thanks, I will call her. What do you know about raising rodeo bulls?” I asked.

  He smiled. “That what you’re into, Logan?”

  “We’re new at it, and we’ve got a lot to learn, but we’re hoping for good results.”

  “I know a bit about it. Competed in the PBR circuit for a few years until my bones couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Great. We’re starting with Daddy’s prize bulls,” I said. “Presto, Crusher and Thor.”

  Clint raised an eyebrow under his hat. “Those are famous bulls. Record holders for never being ridden.”

  “That’s right. You feel like joining us in our adventure? We got a lot of hard work ahead of us.”

  “The cows are key,” said Clint. “Got to be selective there.”

  “Uh huh. We’ve got our first sixty here already. You’re welcome to take a look at the girls.”

  “I’d like to see the herd, and I’d like to work for you, Logan. Got a lot of respect for you, and Kenny McKenna was one of my heros.”

  I stuck out my hand. “Welcome aboard, Clint.” I blew out a long breath sensing I’d just hired a good loyal cowboy.

  Preston.

  JACK sat in his truck and watched for Carson Wag
oner to come out the front door of the courthouse. When she did, she turned to her right and jogged into the parking lot and jumped into the same pickup he and Logan had seen at Micky Swain’s trailer.

  Kate was there to pick up Carson Wagoner. How weird was that? They pulled out of the parking lot and Jack followed—all the way north to Micky Swain’s trailer.

  Were they all living with Micky Swain? How many women were living with Micky Swain? What the hell was going on?

  McKenna Ranch.

  My second interview was with a younger guy, Jay Savage, who was a cattle specialist. He was just as nice and as qualified as Clint Downing. Clay liked him too and after checking into his former employer, we hired him right away.

  After both our new hands had a look at the herd and the bulls, I showed them the bunkhouse. It was all cleaned up after the girls left although it did smell a little like perfume.

  “Smells nice in here,” said Jay. “Like kind of girly.”

  “Our last three hands were girls,” I said. “Didn’t work out.”

  Jay grinned. “Oh, too bad. Never worked with female hands. Be a new experience.”

  “It wasn’t an experience I want to relive,” I said. “Best left in the backroads of my mind.”

  Jay chuckled.

  AT lunch, Jack was back home and after he met the two new hands, he came into the house and gave his courthouse report.

  “So, we don’t know if Harper got out or not?” asked Clay.

  “Her lawyer argued that the bail was too high,” said Jack, “but the judge let it stand. He said the crime was serious and needed a high bail amount.”

  “So correct,” said Clay. “I would’ve been happier if he didn’t give her no bail at all.”

  “Where did Carson go when she got out?” I asked.

  “Kate picked her up at the courthouse and they drove straight to Micky Swain’s trailer. I followed them.”

  “Kate picked Carson up? I can hardly believe it,” I said.