Secrets Resurfaced

by Dana Mentink

  “I’m going back home, Chad...” she blurted, but he was already too far away to hear. Exasperated, she threw the truck into Park and tried to catch up with his long-legged strides. Plant pot clutched under his arm, he marched directly to the paddock. Tom, Liam and Mitch looked up from their conversation. Jingles barked and Meatball raced immediately to Dory, pawing at her knee. She bent to scratch the velvet spot behind his ears.

  “I see you’re living up to the family reputation of completely ignoring all doctor’s advice,” Liam said. “Hello, Dory.”

  She smiled and hoisted Meatball in her arms. “As a matter of fact, the doctor did suggest Chad lie down and take it easy.”

  Chad waved an irritated hand. “I’m fine. Wanted to check on Boss.”

  Mitch jerked a thumb at the horse standing next to Zephyr, tail swishing.

  “He’s in better shape than you are.”

  Chad didn’t seem to hear. “Been thinking he’s such a poor drinker. Sweats heavily. Gonna give him an electrolyte supplement.”

  Tom nodded. “That’s what I figured, too. I already told Liam.”

  “And I took care of it,” Liam said. He pointed to Chad’s potted plant. “You thought maybe some fresh greens might help old Boss?”

  Chad stared at the pot in his hands as if wondering how the thing had gotten into his possession. “It’s, uh, a present. From, er...” She saw his shoulders lift as if he’d just sucked in a deep breath. “My daughter.” He jerked a tentative look at Dory. “Our daughter. Her name’s Ivy. She’s almost five.”

  All three men stared, and heat crawled up Dory’s neck. Meatball slathered a tongue along the side of her cheek.

  Mitch was the first to react. “Congratulations to both of you. Jane will want to arrange playdates immediately for Charlie and Ivy, I expect. We got a nice little pony she can ride.”

  Playdates. Pumpkin plants. Ponies. Panic. Meatball wriggled to let Dory know she was holding him too snugly. She set him on the ground. “That might be nice sometime. She’s very busy with school and such.” And we’re moving out of state, she decided not to say aloud.

  “Well, that’s just grand.” A grin engulfed Liam’s face. “And your first dad assignment is to plant Polly Pumpkin?”

  Chad gaped. “How did you...?”

  Dory turned the pot around so Chad could see that Ivy had lettered Polly in pink glitter paint on the side. There was even a stick-on jewel in the center of the o.

  Flushed scarlet, Chad gripped the pot, ignored his brother and turned to Tom. “Didn’t thank you properly for getting me out of the fire.”

  Tom shrugged. “Nothing you wouldn’t have done for me. I thought I was going to be keeping Rocky out of harm’s way. Did the cops catch sight of Blaze at the fire?”

  Dory shook her head. “Not yet. They’re interviewing potential witnesses. Tom, how long have you known Angela?”

  He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. “She looked me up when Mary wanted to buy a horse for Blaze on his sixteenth birthday.” His mouth quirked in a faint smile. “Angela put me through the wringer making sure they weren’t getting ripped off. I’ve helped out with her horses since then.”

  “Did you know Angela had arranged a meeting with Dory’s father just before the fire?” Chad said.

  Tom’s mouth tightened. “What are you getting at?”

  Dory tried for a soothing tone. “We’re looking into all the angles.”

  Tom shrugged. “I get it, but you’re chasing the wrong horse. Angela is trying to protect herself from Blaze since the cops can’t seem to catch him. She’s a good woman, and she’s been through a lot. Her sister was her best friend.”

  Mary...the woman whose death was firmly on Rocky’s shoulders. Dory suppressed a shiver. “Do you think it’s possible that the sinking all those years ago wasn’t an accident?”

  “I don’t see how it could have been intentional.” Puzzlement played over his weathered face. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you think Angela might be involved in that?”

  Chad shrugged. “Just floating ideas.”

  “Well, you can hobble that one. My mom used to say some people are cut from a finer cloth. Angela is like that. She would never hurt her sister or anyone else. Find Blaze. He’s the one you should be looking for.” Tom was clearly done with the conversation.

  Something about the way he’d said it.

  ...cut from a finer cloth.

  It became clear to Dory in that moment. Tom, I know your secret.

  “I’ll get the feed loaded up.” He jammed a pair of leather gloves into his back pocket and strode away.

  Dory realized the three brothers were looking at her, probably wondering at the calculating look on her face.

  “You got an idea, Dory?” Liam asked.

  Not an idea. Not exactly. Something inside told her it was a fact. “I think Tom is in love with Angela Robertson.”

  Chad gaped. “What? How do you know that?”

  “Call it a woman’s intuition.”

  Mitch laughed. “Same way Aunt Ginny knew when Liam wrecked the truck and didn’t want to come clean about it.”

  Liam whistled. “Gotta say, I didn’t see that one coming. Tom’s not exactly a lady killer. He’s been out on a few dates, but nothing’s stuck. I guess a highbrow damsel can fall for a simple cowboy. Jane and Maggie did it.”

  “I’m not sure the feeling is mutual for Tom and Angela.” She caught Chad’s eye. “It could be that Tom loves Angela, but she doesn’t feel the same.”

  “Yeah, and maybe she’s using him.” Liam frowned. “That goes against my grain. Tom’s a good man, honest and straightforward.”

  Chad exhaled long and slow. “If he loves her enough, could be he just doesn’t want to see her ugly side.”

  “Love is blind,” Mitch said.

  Mitch’s dark eyes followed Tom’s progress. “And that kind of love can be dangerous.”

  If Tom Rourke had put his heart in the hands of a killer, it might just be fatal.

  * * *

  Chad escorted Dory back to the saddlery. Meatball had decided to join them, making his own zigzag path but never straying too far from Dory’s side. She was quiet and tense. He wasn’t sure if she was thinking about Tom or any other of the hundreds of strange details swirling around the case, so he fired off a comment.

  “Tom’s a good guy, and he’s plenty strong. If it turns out Angela is a killer, he’ll survive it. I’ll go borrow a laptop from the ranch house and you can see if your dad’s files are intact somewhere in cyberspace.”

  She paused on the saddlery porch. “I’m going home, Chad.”

  Going home. She actually intended to leave right then? “But...we haven’t gotten answers to anything. I thought my father’s case was your top priority.” It wasn’t fair to call her motives into question, but he felt a rising tide of desperation.

  She hushed him by touching his hand. “It’s too much. I’ve been on my own for five years and now there’s uncles and grandparents and...”

  “And me.”

  “Yes, and you.” Her gaze was gentle. “I know it was my own choice to go it alone, but now I’ve got to figure out how to make this all work, and there are multiple families involved.”

  The desperation rose higher. “Don’t take her away from me.” He recognized the pleading in his tone.

  Her mouth wobbled, and now her fingers found his face, cupping his cheek, silky soft. “Chad, you’re Ivy’s father. I will make sure you know her and she knows you. There will be plenty of time for that whether I’m here or in Rock Ridge or Arizona.”

  “No, there won’t. Especially if you move to Arizona.”

  “When...not if.”

  “All the more reason for you to stick close now. She just learned I’m her daddy.”

  “I just...need some space to figure out how
this will look.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He turned his mouth so his lips grazed her palm. His soul craved her comfort. He allowed his face to rest there and he imagined for a flickering moment that she desired the connection, too.

  “God wants you to be a father to Ivy. I understand that now and I won’t ever deny you that right again.” She paused. “You trusted me a long time ago, Chad,” she whispered. “Can you do it again?”

  Trust her? Could he even trust himself? He’d treated her so abominably, yet here she was, asking him. He couldn’t answer. Instead he pressed a kiss to her wrist.

  She pulled away.

  The rejection was unmistakable. Of course. The issue under discussion was parenting, not anything more. Chad, what is your problem? You and Dory are almost friends again. Can’t you let well enough alone? You’re parents. That’s it.

  He scrambled for a way to smooth things over. “I understand why you think you need to leave right now, but it isn’t safe for you to be off on your own investigating Blaze and Angela.”

  Now her hands found her hips and the mettle showed. “It’s my job. I’ve been doing it for years. I have my dad, and besides, we’ve been half drowned here in Driftwood and almost incinerated back home, so both places call for caution.”

  He wished he could think of something, anything, to keep her there on the ranch, but he could not dredge up a single compelling argument. “I’ll drive you back,” he conceded. “But can we talk to Aunt Ginny and arrange a ranch visit for Ivy first? Please?”

  The teenage Chad would never have been able to present his deepest desire calmly, with a “please” tacked on at the end, no less. And yet he had, and in his own ears it came out the way a rational, mature, grown-up-father-type person would sound. It astonished him. Aunt Ginny always said God used messes for masterpieces. Maybe she was on to something. The teen Dory might have made a joke or bowled him over with her emotional reaction to a disagreement. He waited.

  She considered, tugging at a strand of her white-blond hair. “Okay. That’s fair.”

  Mentally he high-fived himself. So there was such a thing as compromise in parenting, in trust that transcended personal desire. It was something his mom hadn’t shown him, but his confidence in Dory’s mothering rose even higher, as did his fragile faltering belief in himself. He nodded. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. That sweet smile that showed the dimple again. There was something reserved in it, though, a formality that preserved some distance between them. The few feet between them stretched into miles he could not cross even on his fastest horse.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “All right,” he said with a sigh. “I guess it’s time to drop the bombshell on Aunt Ginny and Uncle Gus.”

  They walked to the main house. Meatball meandered along with them. They found Gus and Ginny sorting through invoices in the living room. As much as Chad tried to downplay the revelation of his sudden fatherhood, the announcement seemed to set them both into near giddiness.

  “Of course Ivy can visit. How about Tuesday?” Ginny beamed. “I’m so excited to meet her.” She accepted the potted pumpkin reverently, as if it were a precious newborn. “I’ve got the perfect spot for Polly the Pumpkin. The pole beans are ready for the second planting and maybe she’d like to help put in the tomatoes.”

  Gus winked. “Oh, you’ve got Aunt Ginny off and running now that she knows Ivy’s a gardener. Guess you’ll have the horse introductions covered.”

  “Figured I’d let her help with the currying in case she’s a bit fearful at first. I...” Chad sneaked a look at Dory. Was he being too pushy? Assuming too much? Asserting himself as a dad before he had a right to?

  Dory chewed her lip, which he took as a sign to ease up on the reins. “Over time, I mean. Not all at once, of course. Whatever Dory thinks is best.”

  Her pleased expression told him he’d done it right, and he made a mental note to follow her lead where Ivy was concerned until he got the knack of things and Ivy felt more comfortable.

  Chad’s phone rang with a call from Mitch. He put it on speaker.

  “I just phoned Danny to get an update. He asked me to share an interesting bit of information he unearthed. Turns out Angela’s father was a competitive marksman.”

  Chad cocked his head. “Is that right?”

  “Angela took up his passion for shooting. Won a couple of awards and such back in the day as a father/daughter rifle team.”

  Chad locked eyes with Dory. Angela Robertson was skilled with a rifle. Was she the one who’d taken a shot at them at the gorge? He sucked in a breath, ravaged lungs burning.

  Was Angela a woman “cut from a finer cloth”? Or a calculated killer?

  The list of potential victims scrolled in his mind. What if Dory’s investigations made her the victim of another attack? Now she was determined to return home, where he could not keep her safe. His muscles locked up tight as if his body sensed a fuse burning away the final seconds before an explosion.

  He had to find out the truth.

  Lives hung in the balance.

  Lives that were beyond precious.

  His wife and daughter.

  SIXTEEN

  Dory’s escape plans were put on hold when Chad was called to assist with a cow that had become ensnared by the limbs of a fallen tree. The animal was panicked, and the extraction would be both dangerous and delicate.

  “It’s gonna take all hands for this one. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

  She’d watched him ride off on Zephyr, tall and easy in the saddle. The late-afternoon hour lent some urgency to the endeavor. Wrestling a cow in the dark would be nearly impossible. She finished packing and spent some time online looking for tidbits about Blaze. Nothing new came to her attention. For a change of pace, she took Meatball outside and engaged in an impromptu dog-training session.

  “Sit, Meatball.” The dog focused his black button eyes on her intently, then rolled directly onto his back, three legs waving and his tummy offered up for scratches. She laughed and tried again. After the fifth attempt, she sank to the ground in her own “sit” and snuggled with the silly pup. “We’re gonna have to work on that. Maybe Ivy can convince you to sit.”

  An image of Ivy and the exuberant Meatball rose in her mind. Ivy resisted her better attempts at training sometimes, too. At the moment, she could not be induced to clean up her room except under threat of dire consequences. Plus the child was a pack rat to the core. Ivy and Meatball would be partners in crime, she decided. Meatball was yet another reason Ivy would likely never want to leave the ranch. The tug of a new life in Arizona compelled her. Wouldn’t it all be so much easier if they had a little distance from Chad? Yes, she thought. Distance would allow her to think things through. Still, the muscles deep down in her stomach remained knotted.

  The temperature dropped as a bank of pewter clouds rolled in from the ocean. Wind tickled her skin into gooseflesh. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air. “Come on, Meatball. Looks like it’s going to storm.” Dory went back inside for a windbreaker and a few sips of water to soothe her smoke-damaged throat.

  She picked up her phone, and her screen showed two missed calls, from a number she didn’t recognize, along with a message. She played the voice mail.

  “Dory, it’s Rocky. I hope you’re feelin’ okay. Just wanted to ask you a question about Blaze. I thought I spotted him, but I need a better description. I haven’t seen him since...” He trailed off.

  Since he’d supposedly died on Rocky’s boat.

  “Your dad promised we could chat, but he isn’t answering his phone. I figure he’s busy cleaning up the mess at his office. Chad’s not answering, either. Anyway, call me when you get this message. Oh, and I’m mighty proud to find out I’m a grandpa.”

  Her nerves jangled. He’d seen Blaze? The calls had come in just a few minutes apart. Quickly she redial
ed. “Pick up, Rocky. Pick up.” The phone rang and rang with no answer except a computerized message informing her that Rocky had not set up his voice mail. He was not one to fool with technology, she recalled.

  Pulse skittering, she remembered, too, that he was also not one to wait around for a return call. What if he’d gone after Blaze on his own? He was determined before the office fire to apologize to Blaze for what had happened to his mother. After Chad was almost killed, Rocky might have had a change of view and decided to force a confrontation for another reason. Either way, she had to get to him before he put himself at risk.

  There was no sign of Chad’s return, so she texted him. Meet me at Rocky’s.

  Meatball yipped as she grabbed her keys. She jogged to the car, thankful for the newly repaired window that kept out the spitting rain. Meatball torpedoed into the passenger seat as soon as she pulled the door open.

  “All right, but you’re going to stay out of trouble, right?” She didn’t think Meatball’s listening skills were any better than his ability to sit on command. Nonetheless, she found the young dog’s company a comfort. He peered at her, three legs tucked neatly underneath him, and she could almost detect a smile on that doggy face. She wished she felt as cheerful about their adventure.

  Chad had told her that Rocky lived in a trailer near the dock since his release from prison. Formerly it had functioned as an office, a base of operations for his fishing excursion business. She took the rough road up to the grassy field where the trailer was positioned. Did it pain Rocky to be able to look down at the crawling ocean and watch others ply their boats for profit when he was no longer permitted to do so? She did not know if the stripping of his captain’s license was permanent. Perhaps he would never trust himself again to be responsible for passengers after what had happened.

  Fingers tight on the steering wheel, she guided the car to a spot next to a beat-up station wagon.