“I guess I should be taking off, then,” Tacy said. “Thanks again for everything, Seb. Maybe next time I’m in town we can catch up.”
Tacy reached for the handle of the truck’s door. In one more second, she’d be gone.
“Wait,” he said. “Do you have five more minutes to talk?”
Tacy swiveled around to face him. “What do you want to talk about?”
What didn’t he want to talk about? The accident. The radio silence. The divorce. Most of all, he wanted to know why something that started with so much promise had ended in such a horrible way. The woman he married was strong and kind and always forgiving. So why had she shut him out and run away?
But where to begin? He might as well start with the accident on Shepherd’s Peak. The guilt still remained when he thought about that moment when Tacy lost her footing and began to fall. The sight of her body bouncing backwards against the rocks and crumpling onto the ledge was part one of a horror reel of the worst moments of his life.
“I was hoping we could discuss what happened on the cliff,” he said. “I’d like to hear what you remember.”
Tacy quirked her lips into a sad smile. “Really?”
He nodded, so she continued. “Well, I recall that it was a sunny day. We were still excited about being married, even though it had only been ten days. I can’t remember which one of us came up with the idea of scaling the peak, but I know that we both thought it would be a good place to say goodbye to the land before we left for Texas.”
He winced. It had been his idea, along with the plan to take Tacy back to Fort Hood. A bold move, particularly given the bad blood between their families. But they were in love. What could go wrong?
Tacy’s wistful smile faded as she continued. “I remember that the climb was challenging, but I was keeping up. I definitely recall feeling that I had the skills to make it to the top. But then, I lost my grip and started to fall. After that?” She shrugged. “You were screaming my name, and I couldn’t do anything to stop myself from hitting the rocks. When I landed on the ledge, you came up beside me and said you were going to get help and that you’d be right back. Funny. I was thinking about that today when I saw the rattler—how there were snakes all around me up there and how I tried so hard to be brave. Anyway. I must have passed out before the helicopter came because the rest is a blur. You probably have a better sense of what happened after that.”
Did he ever. Imagining the worst, he had rushed to the hospital, only to discover that Tacy’s dad had gotten there first.
A fist against the window interrupted his musings. The deputy had finished removing the snake and was pantomiming his desire to be on his way. Seb wasn’t about to let him leave without making sure the police department took this seriously. No matter what Tacy said, he still believed the snake had been placed into her car deliberately.
“I’ll see what I can find out about the rattler, and then maybe we can continue our talk.”
“Seb, I wish I could. But I texted my grandfather before I left the clinic and told him I’d be right home. I’m late enough already.”
“Maybe this evening, then?” Did his voice sound as desperate as he felt? They had barely scratched the surface of what happened after the accident.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Lois is making dinner, and then I need have that letter I have to read to my grandfather from my dad.”
So, that was it then. Less than a couple of minutes of hazy recollections. No explanation. No closure. Disappointment whipped through his senses.
“Thanks again for everything, Seb.”
She turned and slid around out the door.
“Glad I could help,” he said. But Tacy was already gone. A moment later, her Nissan pulled out of the lot.
He stepped out of the truck and wandered over to the back of the police cruiser. On the ground next to the trunk was a large metal cage. Inside, the rattler had curled its long, thick body into a tight figure eight with its head tucked under its tail.
The deputy sidled up next to him. “It’s quite a magnificent specimen. I’m no expert, but its scales and markings seem too pristine for it to have lived in the wild. It may sound crazy, but it looks like someone’s pet.”
It didn’t sound crazy at all. It was just as he’d suspected. The snake hadn’t fallen from a tree into Tacy’s car. Someone had deliberately put it there. Someone who was targeting Tacy.
THREE
Tacy’s mind was racing as she executed a sharp turn onto the road back to her grandfather’s ranch. She had been surprised when Seb wanted to discuss the details of the accident. She had closed the book on that particular chapter of her life, and she had been glad to have a ready excuse to end the conversation. Still, it was strange to think that if Seb hadn’t abandoned her that day at the hospital, he might have found out about her pregnancy before she did. As it was, she had woken up from her coma to the whispers of the doctors and nurses gathered by her bed.
“What a blessing that the baby survived the fall!”
“Baby! What baby?”
Her father had been the one to explain. She had sustained a serious concussion, broken both of her legs...and she was a week pregnant. Of course, her dad blamed Seb for everything, even though she repeatedly told him that he was being unfair. Seb hadn’t tricked her into getting married. He hadn’t bullied her into making the climb. He hadn’t caused the fall. A firestorm of memories raged in her brain. The sneaking around, the secret engagement. The elopement. She and Seb had been in love, and nothing could change that. Not their age. Not their parents. And, most of all, not the feud.
Naturally, the fallout from the accident had exacerbated the enmity between their families. Her grandfather reneged on a previous agreement to lease water rights to the Hunts. The Hunts retaliated with a lawsuit. And her dad made the decision that they should move away.
Even though that was all years in the past, she knew she’d probably spend the next six months analyzing every single word Seb had uttered during their brief conversation in his truck today. It was certainly true that there were questions she wanted to ask him as well. Like why he left and never returned. And why he had never tried to contact her, not even when he filed for a divorce.
But right now, she had a more pressing concern. She needed to mentally prepare herself to read her grandfather the letter and to pray that it would mend the breach that her father had caused when he left. But when she got back to the ranch and looked in her suitcase, the letter wasn’t there.
She searched for an hour before Lois called her down to dinner and then spent most of the meal trying to jog her memory by picturing the envelope with her dad’s neat handwriting scrawled across the front. For Carl Tolbert, to be read by Tacy Tolbert at Keith Tolbert’s request. In her mind’s eye, she traced the script with her finger and touched the smooth sealed flap with her hand.
Her trick worked. She had a sudden recollection of slipping it in a bag with her cosmetics before coming to the ranch and then, earlier that morning before she went out on the ATV, she had taken it out of her cosmetic bag and placed it into the zippered compartment of her suitcase. She had already checked there twice, but it was worth another look.
She excused herself from the table and ran up to the room. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper to open the flap. But, no. The letter wasn’t there. She blinked back tears of disappointment and frustration. She needed fresh air and a change of scenery to help her think.
Her thoughts flashed to the blue bicycle she had seen hanging in the garage. An invigorating ride would go a long way toward clearing her head. She just needed to offer her excuses to her grandfather and Lois, and then she could be on her way.
She found the two of them in the family room watching the news.
“Is everything okay, dear?” Lois hit the mute button and reestablished her grip on her grandfather’s hand.
“Not really. I can’t find my dad’s letter.”
Her grandfather frowned. “We thought that something was wrong when we heard you crashing around upstairs. But don’t worry—it’ll turn up. It’s not the end of the world if you can’t find it tonight.”
“But I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Her grandfather’s face crumpled. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I knew that this wasn’t the best time for a long visit, but I wanted to come now because I promised Dad that I wouldn’t put off reading you his letter.” She frowned. “I just can’t imagine where it could have gone. I’m thinking of taking my old bike out for ride, hoping clearing my head will help me remember where I put the envelope.”
“These are your last couple of hours here, and you’re going for a bike ride?” Her grandfather seemed irritated at the thought. “It’s getting dark.”
“I’ll wear the helmet and the reflector vest in the garage. I’ll just go a few miles down County Road 82 and turn back before I get to the junction.”
Lois’s phone rang in her pocket, and she pulled it out to check the screen. “Sorry. I need to take this,” she said. With her cell to her ear, she walked into the hall.
Her grandfather shook his head. “It just doesn’t seem like a good idea to go out this late, but I guess if you...”
Tacy was halfway out the door. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She made a beeline toward the battered blue three-speed hooked on the wall. It was a lot less sleek than the bike she rode in Denver, but it had the appeal of a familiar old friend. She pumped some air into the tires, slipped on the fluorescent vest, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Then she pushed off down the driveway, pedaling slowly until she grew accustomed to the gears.
As soon she made the turn onto the road, her thoughts returned to the letter.
She felt reasonably certain that, once she had put it into the zippered pouch, she hadn’t moved it again. Which led to the conclusion that someone had taken it. Lois? It was possible, especially if Seb was right about her putting drugs in the coffee.
But she could hardly confront Lois and accuse her of theft. No. When she got back to the ranch, she’d do another sweep of her room and the car. But if she came up short once again, she’d have to accept the fact that the letter was gone. If only she had opened the envelope when her dad handed it to her—then she could at least tell her grandfather what it said. But her dad had been adamant. She shouldn’t read the letter until she arrived at the ranch.
Her eyes swept across the cliffs to take in the majestic reds of the sunset. God’s country, her dad always called it. When the ranch was sold, her yearning for what was lost would be the same as her father’s. Maybe even more so, since she had denied this legacy to her son.
Timmy. His name filled her mind as the vroom of a motor sounded behind her. She steered toward the shoulder, her wheels bumping along the loose gravel, providing ample room for the approaching car to pass. But rather than going around, the vehicle seemed to come up behind her. She could feel the heat from the hood, hear the roar of the engine. She pedaled faster. Is it possible that the driver doesn’t see me?
Thunk. A bumper nudged against her back wheel, pushing her further off the road. She gripped the handlebars and pumped her legs as the bike careened forward from the impact.
The bike wobbled. Teetered. Her hands shook as she squeezed hard on the brakes, struggling to regain control. She bumped along, and, after a few seconds, slowed to a stop. Her arms shook like jelly, and her heart thudded in her chest. But she hadn’t fallen, and the bike was still in one piece.
She looked up at the turn in the road. The vehicle that hit her had disappeared in a cloud of dust. Could Seb be right? Was someone trying to kill her? She took a steadying breath. It didn’t matter. She was leaving in the morning. Or... A thought occurred. She could make her excuses and leave tonight. She just needed to get back to the ranch and pack her stuff. Which might be harder than she thought since she was at least two miles away and the sky was getting darker every minute she delayed.
She unsnapped the clip on her helmet and climbed down to assess the damage. The tire wasn’t punctured, but her back wheel was bent, which would make for a bumpy ride home. She turned the bike around and climbed on board just as a cacophony of sounds split the air. The hiss of tires on asphalt. The thumping drone of an engine accelerating into a turn. Is the car coming back? Her pulse accelerated. She didn’t wait to turn and look. She pushed off, settling her feet against the pedals, and pumped her legs. She surged forward, but before she could steer off the road, the car hit her again from behind. A jolt of pain exploded in her leg. She hit the ground and rolled against the gravel as her breath jerked out in panicked gasps.
She raised her head and looked up just as red taillights disappeared in the distance. Whoever had hit her was gone. For now. She laid her head back down and gulped in air. The tears that had been pricking at the corners of her eyes rolled down her face.
With a groan, she rolled onto her back and pulled herself to a sitting position. Her head was throbbing, but when she removed her helmet and patted her hair, there was no wetness to indicate blood. Her elbows and legs were scraped and sore, but nothing seemed broken. She bent her hands against the ground and pushed up.
“Yow!” she howled. Sharp pain erupted from her ankle. She collapsed back onto the ground. A sob of despair shook her body. She was only a few yards from the side of the road. If she could maneuver her body closer, surely someone would drive by and help her.
Or...wait. Her phone was in her backpack, and her backpack was... Her eyes searched the ground next to her mangled bike, but she couldn’t see it anywhere. If she could pull herself up on the shoulder, she’d have a better view.
She put her arms behind her and pushed, scooting forward a few inches. Each time she moved, an agonizing pain ricocheted from her ankle up to her knee. Then again, the screws and plates that the doctors had put in after the accident did have a tendency to throb at the slightest provocation.
Slowly, carefully, she persisted, inching forward. By the time she reached the road, her hair was damp with perspiration and her arms were shaking. Pain was making her head swim, and she couldn’t stop shivering. She wanted to be calm, rational, but the longer she stayed out there—frightened and in pain—the harder it became to think past her panic. And her strongest worry was not for herself but for her son. With the swelling and throbbing in her ankle, there was no way that she would be able to drive tomorrow to pick Timmy up at camp.
Her tears turned to sobs, so fierce that she was choking on them—and the familiar feeling of not being able to breathe caused her to hyperventilate. She was having a panic attack and losing her grip.
What was going to happen to her baby? Timmy had been through so much already. Her father’s illness and sudden death had taken their toll on his once-cheerful nature. At one point, she even considered arranging for him to see a counselor to discuss his feelings. She had already sprung a big change on him when she signed him up for camp, but Timmy, being Timmy, had rolled with it. But what would he think if she didn’t arrive to pick him up? What could he think? That his mom had forgotten him? That his mom didn’t care?
Tires skidded on the shoulder behind her.
“Tacy! Are you okay? What happened?”
Steven Hunt.
She raised her eyes to look at him, but she couldn’t find the words to explain.
“I’m calling 911. Hang in there, Tace.”
Steven sounded panicked. Probably because she looked a mess. Her face felt sore and puffy, which meant that it had already started to swell. And her clothes were bloodied and covered with dirt. Steven lowered his voice as he spoke into his phone, but she couldn’t summon the energy to listen in. Her breaths were coming in giant gulps. And all she could think about was Timmy, and making sure someone would be there to pick him up—that he’d be safe.<
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“Tacy? Tacy?” Steven bent down and knelt beside her. “Can you talk? The ambulance is on the way. Did you see what happened?”
“No, but...”
Timmy needed to be safe—needed to be picked up by someone she could trust to protect him. Whatever was behind this bizarre danger that surrounded her, she couldn’t allow it to touch her son. And she trusted Steven. Trusted both the Hunt brothers, no matter what her family had always said.
Her dad had warned her of what would happen if the Hunts found out about Timmy. There would be lawyers involved and demands for shared custody. Her son would be sent off to spend summers at the ranch. But that worry suddenly felt small and distant. Timmy’s safety was the only thing that truly mattered right now.
And maybe she could still protect her secret, too. Timmy was small for his age, so Steven wouldn’t do the math and arrive at the logical conclusion that this was his nephew. She would call the camp and ask them to release her son to Steven. Meanwhile, she’d make arrangement for a flight home to Denver just in case she was too banged up to drive.
“Steven,” she said. Her tongue felt thick and heavy and she could hear the way her words slurred. It was a struggle to get them out. “Help me. Please.”
“Sure. Anything. What do you need, Tace?”
“Timmy,” she said.
“Timmy? Who’s Timmy?”
“Timmy. He’s at...camp. In Wyoming. Pickup is...tomorrow. Ten.”
“Who’s this again?” Steven asked.
“Check my...my backpack. Camp brochure. Can you do this for me? Please? Find...” She swiveled her head around toward her bike. “Find my backpack.”
“I think it would be better if I stayed right here until the ambulance arrives.”
“No.” Why couldn’t she make him understand? What she was asking was more important. “Just look for my backpack. Tan. Black straps.” She was crying in earnest now.
Steven stood up and walked toward her bike.
Fatal Ranch Reunion Page 3
