Danger on the Ranch

by Dana Mentink

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said about not living like I have a future. Seems to me that my job right now is to make sure you and Ben have one, and then, well, it also seems to me like you get to choose where to spend it.”

  She froze as he stroked a finger along her cheek.

  “This place would be a great spot for starting over,” he murmured.

  For one sliver of a second she wanted nothing more than to lean in close to him, to give in to the feelings that crowded and danced like moths circling a flame.

  “I can’t, Mitch. I can’t think of that.”

  “You can if you let yourself.”

  “With Wade...with everything... I can’t allow my heart to go there. You’re his...”

  “Brother?” The word came out hard and clipped as he stepped back. “I know. Does that mean I can never be anything else in your mind?”

  She sought helplessly for something to say to ease the blow she’d just delivered.

  His frown deepened. “You want people to see you apart from your relationship with Wade. How come you can’t do that for me?”

  There was no answer. The black of his eyes dulled to a flat, hopeless sheen. She thought he might speak again, but instead he walked away, his long strides eating up the ground, restoring the distance between them.

  * * *

  Mitch awakened at 4:00 a.m., his accustomed hour, and rolled out of bed in the bunkhouse to find a message on his phone.

  “It’s Bette. I’m sorry I hung up on you. I got scared. Meet me in town, okay? Today. Eight o’clock at the Chuckwagon Diner. Don’t bring the police. I told you they are on the take. I just want to talk to you. It would help me sort things out. Please.” The message ended.

  He threw on his clothes and boots and went to wake Liam.

  Liam sat up, one eye open and one closed. Mitch launched into the story until Liam held up a finger. “One sec.” He put the tiny hearing aid in his left ear. “Okay. Now I’m at least going to get the gist.”

  He listened, propped up on his palms. “So how do you want to play it?”

  “I can’t risk Jane’s safety. I will go meet Bette, find out what she wants. Help her get someplace safe. You make sure Wade doesn’t have eyes on her, watch for any sign of him. Can you call Torey at the Chuckwagon and tell her to save that booth in the back for us?”

  “Right,” Liam said, throwing off the covers. “I got your back.” He said the rest low. “Uncle Moo Moo.”

  Mitch let himself out of the house and climbed into his truck. A few minutes later, Liam pulled up behind in his vehicle looking sheepish. That was when he noticed Jane storming out of the ranch house, beelining for him. She marched over to Mitch, but before she got there, Liam leaned out the window.

  “Sorry, man,” Liam said. “I called from the kitchen, and she heard me talking to Torey requesting a back booth. She put the rest together.”

  “You were going to meet Bette without me,” Jane fired at Mitch.

  “Safer.”

  Liam rolled away, giving him a look that read Glad it isn’t me.

  “Don’t you understand?” Jane’s lips were trembling. “I have to help her, me. I’m the one that let her get hurt. I have to make that right.” The courage stunned him, the grit. A buzz raced around his stomach that he had not felt since his long-ago days with Paige Lynn. Knock it off. You know where she stands on that, since you went on and made a fool of yourself yesterday. He swallowed.

  “You are not responsible for what happened to Bette. Wade is.”

  Her eyes flashed lightning at him, and he wished he could capture her intensity in a photo so he would always be able to remember.

  “That’s rich coming from you. Let’s get real here, Mitch,” she said. “You feel responsible for Wade’s actions. That’s why you’re helping me, isn’t it? Helping me and Ben?”

  “Maybe at first.”

  “Well, why now? I’m just a means to assuage your guilt.” Tears sparked in her eyes. “You are using me just like your brother did.”

  He fought down the swirl of anger. “You know that’s not true. You’re picking a fight because it’s easier that way, simpler.”

  She stopped then. “Mitch, you’re looking to soothe your own guilt and nothing more. I can see that now.” She waved a hand. “All this talk of the future here for us in Driftwood. You’ve convinced yourself you have feelings for me because you want to make up for what Wade did to us. I’m the poor wounded kitten that needs tending after your brother crushed me under his heel. Is that it?”

  He waited a beat, the vein in his jaw jumping. “Finished?”

  “Not until you tell me what I want to hear. The truth.”

  “I’ll give you the truth, Jane, but it’s not gonna be what you want.” He couldn’t put together the words to tell her that an inexplicable sensation had begun to creep through his body since she’d come to stay at the ranch, past the pain and the granite walls of self-protection and the anger that he’d nursed his whole life long. He didn’t understand what was happening well enough to put it into words. Instead he pulled her to his open window and kissed her, holding her close with a palm around the back of her neck, a warm hollow in her nest of silken hair.

  He felt her start before she kissed him back, lips warm and satin, vibrant and life giving, and for a brief moment, one spectacular blip in time, he forgot that she was his brother’s ex-wife, forgot his solitary mantra and let slip from his mind all other thoughts. He felt love, truth be told, pure and potent, that undercut the rock cliff of hatred in his heart.

  The kiss was both endless and too brief. She moved back, breathing unsteadily. “Mitch, this can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

  And all at once he was slapped with the reality of what he’d done. Again. He closed his eyes, heard her breath catch.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, mouth trembling.

  He blushed and got out, heading for the passenger side to open the door for her, silent while she approached.

  She put a hand on his bicep, and it immobilized him.

  “I mean, if I could ever learn to trust someone again, I’d want a man like you.”

  A man like you...

  “I get it,” he rasped. “You said it before in so many words. Message delivered.”

  Her head dropped.

  “But just so you know, Jane, my feelings don’t come from guilt. It’s a shame that yours do.”

  “Mitch,” she whispered, and there was heartbreak in the way she said it. “I’m sorry.”

  He waited for her to get in, shut the door and drowned out those two words in the gunning of the engine. Wade had run off Paige Lynn, and now, Mitch finally understood, Wade’s shadow would forever stand firmly between him and Jane. He didn’t allow himself to think about what could have been, in another time, another place.

  Whip up or whoa.

  It was definitely time to whoa.

  He would give her a future, her and Ben, and then he would watch her ride out of his life.

  Another win for Wade.

  If God was the God of love, he wondered, why did evil win the day again?

  Without another word, he took the road toward town.

  NINETEEN

  Jane sat in misery, relieved when Mitch pulled to the curb on a Driftwood side street. She wanted to say something, anything, to erase the hurt she’d caused him, caused them both. She wanted to love not just a man like Mitch, but Mitch himself, but how could she possibly give her heart to Wade’s brother? Even if she was willing to risk stepping out on the tightrope of trust again, she could not and would not consider a relationship that would confuse Ben when he was old enough to process it all.

  I fell in love with your uncle. It would be impossible to explain, even if Mitch’s feelings for her did light her soul in ways she’d never felt before. And
why was she spending any emotional energy on the future when Wade was still free to terrorize?

  She got out of the truck before Mitch could approach to open her door, sucking in lungfuls of crisp air that brought her back to the present moment. Bette. She had to find Bette and help her by convincing her to get out of Driftwood immediately.

  Mitch joined her on the sidewalk. Their location was quiet, along a tree-lined street sprinkled with old ranch-style homes with plenty of green yards between them. At the end of the block, where the street joined the main drag, she noticed the white awnings that indicated some sort of event, barricades preventing traffic from entering.

  Mitch stared, frowning. Liam drove up and rolled down his window.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Tuesday Stroll.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Man, you don’t get out much, do you? It’s a farmers’ market, every Tuesday, year-round.”

  Mitch glowered. “Great.”

  “Give me five. I’ll double back and get a seat in the Chuckwagon.”

  “Stay under the radar in case I need you.”

  Liam grinned wolfishly. “I’m way too good-lookin’ to stay out of the spotlight, but I reckon I can give it a try.”

  He winked at Jane, who could not resist a giggle, turned the truck and rumbled away.

  Jane started toward the corner, and Mitch caught up in one long stride. He reached for her arm, but she kept going.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” he started.

  “I’ll talk to her, convince her to go. We’re in a public place, and Wade’s gone silent. It’s possible he’s moved on anyway.” She forced a confident tone that she did not feel.

  Mitch walked next to her, tense as a wildcat, shoulders stiff. She reached the corner, stepped out into the main street, which was lined with booths piled high with apples, winter squash, homemade pecan pies and olive oils. One merchant offered freshly caught fish, glistening on beds of ice. Dozens of people meandered along, chatting and filling canvas bags with their choices. Jane scanned the group as they walked for any sign of Bette. The last time she’d seen her at the trial, Bette had been a whip-thin, angular woman, tall, with blond hair and thin lips.

  Through a break in the booths, she saw the Chuckwagon Diner. Two large wooden wagon wheels stood sentry at either side of the neatly painted building, the beige walls accented by maroon trim around the windows. Patrons sat at tables sipping sodas and enjoying plates overflowing with eggs, bacon and fluffy white biscuits.

  Mitch put a hand on her lower back to steer her toward the building when a woman stepped from behind a display of jellies and jams. She was tall, fuller cheeked than Jane remembered, and her hair was dark now, her eyes magnified by chic glasses.

  Jane’s breath caught, and suddenly she was back at the trial, mourning what her ignorance had cost an innocent young woman. Fragments of memory stabbed through her mind.

  I thought he was a nice guy.

  He was friendly, took an interest in me.

  I didn’t see him clearly until it was too late.

  Jane could have uttered the exact same sentiments herself, along with a few more.

  But you were his wife—you, more than anyone else, should have known.

  She pulled in a steadying breath and wrapped Bette in a hug. The two women clung to each other.

  Bette Whipple looked like a college student. She wore a yellow T-shirt emblazoned with a blue bird. The Fighting Falcons football team. The symbol seemed to represent the life Bette should have had, if Wade hadn’t interrupted.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” Jane managed.

  “Me, too,” Bette murmured in her ear.

  She could feel Bette trembling, the tiny shivers that racked her body.

  “Let’s get you both inside,” Mitch said.

  As Jane was drawing away, she heard Bette gasp. Bette’s eyes rounded, and her mouth tightened into a shocked circle.

  “What? What is it?” Jane said, trying to reach for her hand.

  “I saw him,” Bette said. “Across the street. He just went into the hardware store.”

  Mitch was taking out his phone. “Inside the restaurant. Now.” Then he bolted across the street.

  Bette gripped Jane’s arm. “We have to run. We have to get away.”

  Together they raced toward the restaurant, but instead of entering, Bette sprinted past.

  “No, we have to go inside,” Jane called, reaching to catch her arm and turn her. “Bette, stop.”

  Bette was running blindly, staggering against a market booth and toppling some jars of jelly. In the confusion, several shoppers scurried to retrieve the fallen jars.

  “Stop,” Jane called as she trailed Bette down an alley between the restaurant building and the small post office next to it. “We have to go back to the restaurant.”

  Still Bette continued on, plunging deeper into the alley, her out-flung fingers grazing over the rough bricks as she ran. Jane understood the desire to run from Wade, to flee as far and as fast as possible without allowing reason to enter into the picture. She should double back, find Mitch or Liam, stay safe, but how could she abandon Bette to Wade again?

  Before her mind could consider the consequences, she sprinted after her.

  “Bette,” she yelled as she ran. “Please stop.”

  The alley opened onto a back lot for overflow parking. A few dozen cars filled in some of the spaces. Against the wall was a dumpster and a cart stacked with flattened boxes. The rear side of the lot edged a cluster of trees, and she could hear the gurgle of a river over the wild beating of her own heart.

  “Bette, where are you?” Her voice was urgent, edged with fear she could not control. She did not think Wade would have had time enough to spot them and evade Mitch, but she didn’t put anything past him. If he was anywhere in the vicinity, they were both in grave danger.

  A dark head popped up from behind a car. Jane blew out a breath and went to her. Bette was crying.

  Jane embraced her, patting her back like she did with Ben when he had a nightmare. “I’m sorry,” Bette sobbed.

  “It’s okay. You got scared. I understand. It’s okay now. Let’s go back in the restaurant. We’ll be safe there.”

  Bette wiped her tearstained face. She looked around, dazed, Jane thought. “Where...?”

  “We’re behind the Chuckwagon. It’s okay. We’ll just double back and stay with Liam until Mitch says it’s clear.”

  Bette didn’t answer. Jane put her hands around Bette’s face, cupping her cheeks. “Look at me.”

  Bette dragged her eyes to meet Jane’s, the pale green of her irises picking up the morning sunlight. “Take three deep breaths, okay? I’ll do it with you.”

  They breathed together until Bette gave her a smile, stronger than she’d expected. Bette was a fighter, deep down, Jane thought.

  “Can you walk back with me now?”

  Bette nodded, looking around the perimeter of the lot as if she expected Wade to appear at any moment. Wind picked up a torn piece of cardboard and sent it skittering along, making Jane jump. The hum of the restaurant kitchen noises filtered through the air, comforting Jane. They were so close to people, to help.

  “Let’s go,” she said to Bette.

  Bette nodded and crept out from her hiding spot.

  Jane ushered her forward just as a car roared up. From behind the wheel, Wade smiled as he jerked the car into Park and leaped from the driver’s seat.

  After a second of sheer, immobilizing panic, adrenaline flooded her body. “Run,” she screamed to Bette, shoving her forward. Bette took off, legs churning. Jane darted behind her, terror balling up her muscles. She’d made it only a couple of car lengths when Wade caught her, bringing her to the ground.

  TWENTY

  Mitch had searched all the aisles in the
hardware store and found no sign of his brother. He pushed out the back exit, taking in the empty lot in seconds. No Wade.

  He was about to return to the store when the door was pushed slowly open. Mitch flattened himself against the wall and waited. This time he had the advantage. An arm came through, and all of a sudden the door slammed open. Mitch grabbed the arm and swung the newcomer off balance. The figure lurched forward onto her face at the same moment Mitch realized it was not his brother.

  “What are you doing here?” he barked at Elaine Barber.

  Barber raised her palms a few inches off the asphalt in a gesture of surrender. “I saw you charge in. I figured you were after Wade.”

  “So you decided to get a story for yourself.” Mitch shook his head in disgust, grabbing her palm and hoisting her to her feet. “I could have shot you.”

  “Then I guess I’d have grounds for a lawsuit and a good story.”

  Mitch didn’t honor that with a reply. He left the reporter there and pushed back into the store and found the owner behind the counter.

  “Herb, did you see anyone duck in here?”

  Herb raised an eyebrow. “Looking for your brother, Mitch?”

  Mitch felt the bile burning his throat and nodded.

  Herb poured nails out of a bag onto the counter and began to sort them. “I’ve heard plenty of rumors. Heard you might even be helping out Wade’s wife.”

  “She’s his ex-wife, and she didn’t know anything about what he did.”

  “Yeah?” Herb continued to sort the nails, piling the largest into the jar. “She’d have to be pretty clueless, wouldn’t she?”

  He bit back the angry thoughts. “So did you see Wade or not?”

  “No, but if he’s in town, you’d better keep an eye out, especially if you’re cuddling up to his wife.”

  Mitch slammed out the front door. He scanned the street and found no sign of Wade. He was threading through the market shoppers to get to the restaurant when Liam called.