by R. C. Ryan
He tucked his phone in his pocket. “Chief Pettigrew is on his way. He’ll want a statement, Vern.”
The old cowboy nodded. “That’ll give me time to clean up the gas.”
Ash touched a hand to his arm. “Leave it. The chief will want to see everything just the way it is before we start cleaning anything up. Besides, you need to sit down.”
Seeing the stunned look in Vern’s eyes, he put an arm around the old man’s shoulders and another around Brenna, who looked equally alarmed. “Let’s go inside and have a cup of coffee while we wait for Chief Pettigrew.”
The police chief’s SUV sported oversized tires, a heavy-duty caged backseat section for unruly passengers, and a rifle rack holding an assortment of weapons.
Hearing his arrival, Brenna followed Vern and Ash out the door, leaving her puppy safely in the house. Though Sammy yammered his objections, she firmly closed the door and descended the steps.
By the time she stepped into the barn, Ira Pettigrew was walking around the upended tractor.
“Was the barn door open when this happened?”
Vern shook his head. “Closed. I’d just driven it in from the field and parked it, then closed the door, figuring I’d go out the side door over there.” He pointed to the small side entrance.
“So, if someone was watching you drive in and closing the door, they might think you were still standing in front of it?”
The old man shrugged. “Why would anyone be watching me drive in?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask you what I asked Brenna and Ash in my office. Do you have any enemies, Vern?”
The old man grinned. “When you’ve lived as long as me, you probably have more than you can count. But none come to mind.”
The chief turned to Brenna. “Have there been any visitors here lately?”
She shook her head. “No one.”
“Any deliveries?”
She thought about it before turning to Vern. They both shook their heads at the same time.
The chief addressed both Brenna and Ash. “This could very well be connected to those near misses that happened in town. But right now, I feel like I’m missing something. Something important. None of this makes sense. So for now, until I figure out what’s going on, I’d like the two of you to be extra cautious.”
“Are you thinking whoever did this will come back?”
Ira turned to Ash. “Those first incidents happened in town. Because the two of you were together both times, I couldn’t figure out which of you was being targeted. Now, the fact that you’re both here clouds the issue somewhat, because of what happened to Bear. But since this is Brenna’s ranch and Brenna’s property that was damaged, I’m going to assume, for now, that she’s the primary target. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. Now I just have to figure out why, and that may lead me to who the culprit is.”
Ash speared a glance at Brenna before asking, “Have you checked on her father?”
The chief nodded. “Honey, that was the news I’d been planning on bringing you. It was there in a fax in my office when I returned.”
Ira cleared his throat. His tone softened. “The assisted-living place informed me that your daddy checked himself out.”
Ash’s eyes grew stormy. “And that letter to Brenna, about being near death, was all a lie?”
“Maybe. Maybe he was testing the waters, to see if Brenna was still living here.” The chief turned to Brenna. “Or maybe it was just a way of getting enough money to move on. Sarah at the bank confirmed that your check was cashed.”
Brenna looked stunned as the chief handed her a slip of paper. “Here’s the name and number of the director of the nursing home.” His voice lowered. “The director said your daddy left in the night, with only the clothes on his back. Nobody saw him go. The belongings he left behind don’t amount to much, but if you’re agreeable, the director would like to donate them to a charity. He’ll need your permission.”
Seeing her pain and confusion, he touched a hand to her arm. “You think on it, Brenna honey. There’s time to make a decision before you talk to the director.”
“I will. Thank you, Chief.”
He nodded before turning toward his vehicle. He motioned for Ash to follow.
Leaning on the door of his SUV, he kept his tone low. “At least now I have a suspect. Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why old Raleigh Crane would come back here and try to hurt his daughter and Vern.”
“Maybe in his twisted mind he blames Brenna, because it was his treatment of her that caused you to order him to leave all those years ago.”
“Maybe. All I know is, I can’t be here day and night, and I’ll tell you, Ash, I don’t like knowing Brenna and old Vern are out here, so far from town and at the mercy of a someone out to hurt them.”
Ash’s tone was pure ice. “They won’t be alone, Ira. I give you my word on that.”
Chapter Sixteen
Thanks, Mad.” Ash slipped his cell phone into his shirt pocket and approached the barn, where Vern and Brenna were cleaning up the gasoline spill. Snatching up a handful of rags, he dropped to his knees and helped.
Afterward, Brenna carried the bucket of rags outside and wrinkled her nose. “I smell like gas.”
Ash took the bucket from her hands. “A nice long shower ought to take care of that.” His tone lowered. “I’d be happy to scrub your back.”
“I just bet you would.” She turned back to look at the pile of splintered barn wood littering the floor. “And what will take care of my barn door?”
“I’ll get a crew over here tomorrow.”
She shook her head in protest. “I can’t afford to pay a crew of workmen.”
“I’m talking about some of our wranglers. Those that aren’t needed with the herd can lend a hand.”
Vern dropped down onto a bale of hay. “That was our only tractor.”
At his words, Brenna glanced at the upended vehicle, and then at the old man, looking with such sadness at the destruction.
She walked over to lay a hand on his arm. “Think how much worse it might have been. Seconds earlier and you could have been—”
He stood and touched a finger to her lips. “Don’t start looking for trouble now, girl. I’m fine.”
“I know. But—”
“We could all use a change of scenery.” Ash ambled over to clap a hand on Vern’s arm before turning Brenna toward the sunshine outside. “First, you both need to take a long, hot shower. Then we’re driving to my family’s ranch for supper. Mad just told me he’s grilling steaks and his special potatoes, and Myrna’s baking lemon meringue pies.”
Vern touched a hand to his heart. “Lemon meringue? Now that’s worth a shower in the middle of the day.”
His words had them all smiling as Vern made his way toward his house trailer and Brenna headed toward her back door.
Ash trailed slowly behind her, uttering a thank-you to his grandfather for insisting that he bring both Brenna and Vern back with him. It wasn’t a solution, but at least they’d deal with their problems on a full stomach.
“Now this is what our family’s been missing.” Mad looked up from the grill when Brenna stepped into the kitchen. “Where’ve you been keeping yourself, lass?”
“I’m sorry, Mad.” She crossed the room and leaned down to give him a hug. “I should have been by to see you.”
“That you should’ve, lass.” He returned the hug before glancing at Vern, who stood hesitantly in the doorway.
“And look who you’ve brought. Vern Wheeler. It’s been too many years.”
“That it has, Mad. That it has.” The old cowboy offered a firm handshake before turning to Myrna, who had both arms around Brenna and was hugging her fiercely.
He gave a courtly bow. “Myrna.”
“Vern.” Her face was wreathed with smiles as she kept her arms around Brenna. “How good to see you.” She pressed a kiss on Brenna’s cheek before releasing her.
The back door opened and
the rest of the family began streaming in, fresh from their chores, pausing to hang their hats and wash at the big sink before stepping into the kitchen.
There were hugs and handshakes as Willow, followed by Brady and Whit, greeted both Brenna and Vern. Willow handled the introductions to Griff, who had stood back watching and listening.
Vern gave the young man a long, slow appraisal before saying, “It’s nice to meet you, Griff. You’ve got your daddy’s face, son.”
Griff surprised all of them by saying, “Thank you. The more I learn about Bear MacKenzie, the more I like what I hear.”
Ash glanced at Willow in time to see the slow, haunted smile that touched her lips.
“Go ahead and sit.” Mad turned toward the oven. “Dinner’s ready.”
The family took their usual places, and Willow directed their guests toward the empty chairs. Ash held a chair for Brenna before settling himself next to her.
Mad and Myrna passed around platters of sizzling steaks, a salad of early spring greens from Myrna’s garden, and Mad’s special potato dish. A basket of rolls warm from the oven was placed in the center of the big table, where everyone could reach them.
Vern cut a bite of steak and closed his eyes in pleasure.
Seeing it, Brenna laughed. “Enjoy yourself. Tomorrow is soon enough to get back to reality.”
“Which one of you does the cooking at your ranch?” Myrna asked.
“I do. If you want to call it cooking. It usually ends up being burned toast, or slimy eggs along with whatever cold meat hasn’t turned moldy,” Brenna said.
“Now that sounds really appetizing.” Whit grinned around a mouthful of Mad’s potatoes. “Maybe you could take a few lessons from Mad and Myrna. The one thing we’ve always been able to count on here is good cooking. It’s what keeps our crew of wranglers coming back year after year.”
Brenna tasted the potatoes before turning to Mad. “I’d love this recipe.”
He winked. “Not sure I’d like to share it, lass. It’s an old family secret.”
Myrna deadpanned, “Which he stole out of my cookbook. If you’d like to know how to make this, just ask me.”
Mad shot her a look. “Careful, or you’ll be banished from my kitchen.”
“Your kitchen?” she huffed. “I ran this kitchen before you and your…inventions moved in, and I expect I’ll be running it long after you and all your clutter are gone.”
“And just where am I going?”
She looked down her nose at him. “I don’t think you want me to answer that, Maddock MacKenzie. Heaven knows you’re no angel, so that only leaves that other place, which will be a lot hotter than this kitchen.”
Around the table, the entire family roared with laughter.
As they continued eating, the talk turned easily from crops, to the size of their herds and the number of new calves, to the whims of nature, which they and their neighbors faced every day.
“So hot yesterday, we were shedding our coats, then our shirts. Today we were shivering inside our parkas,” Griff muttered.
“Welcome to springtime in Montana.” Vern looked over at him. “Where’d you grow up, son?”
“Billings.”
“Then you already know how fickle Mother Nature is in Montana.”
“I do. But it seems even crazier here on the ranch, when you’re dealing with newborn calves getting buried in snow, and trees budding one day and freezing the next.”
“Sounds like you’re having a real baptism of fire, son.”
Brady sat back, sipping strong, hot coffee. “Griff here is a natural. Today he helped birth a newborn calf without flinching.”
When everyone turned to Griff, he managed a quick grin. “Well, I may have been wincing inside, but I knew I had to get that calf out quick, or its poor mother was in trouble.”
“Messy, isn’t it?” Ash said in an aside.
Griff nodded. “Bloody messy. But when you look beyond the blood and gore, it’s beautiful. And amazing, too. Within minutes that old cow was licking her new baby clean, and the little guy was up and nursing. And I was standing there thinking I’d just assisted in the miracle of birth.”
Whit winked at his grandfather before turning to Griff. “Well, since you’re feeling all soft and mushy right now, how’d you like to go up in the hills tomorrow with the crew? There are probably a couple hundred cows ready to provide you with all the miracles you can stomach.”
When he’d finished laughing, Griff sobered enough to say, “Actually, I’ve already offered to go. I told Brady that I want to learn all I can about the operation of a ranch.”
Vern, who’d been listening in silence, turned to Griff. “You didn’t grow up on a ranch in Billings?”
Griff shook his head. “My mother taught school. I lived in town, and when I was old enough, I got a job in a woodworking shop after school.”
Ash looked over with interest. “So you’d know how to fashion a bunch of broken timbers into something useful, like a barn door?”
Brenna shot a quick glance at Ash, but he silenced her with a wink.
“Sure. That’s what I did. I can cut wood, shave it, saw it, fashion it into whatever you’d like.” Griff paused. “Why?”
Ash shrugged. “Some crazy guy drove his truck through Brenna’s barn door, smashing it to bits.”
Willow’s fork clattered against her plate. She turned to Brenna with a look of concern. “What’s this about?”
As briefly as possible Ash explained what had happened.
Willow’s concern grew. “I don’t like the sound of this. Brenna, why don’t you and Vern spend the night here? We have plenty of room for both of you.”
Brenna was already shaking her head. “I can’t just leave. The chores would pile up without the two of us there to stay ahead of them. Besides, what if this guy decides to come back and do even more damage?”
“You think he’ll be back?”
Brenna looked down at the tabletop. “I don’t know what to think.”
“All the more reason why you and Vern ought to stay here where you’re safe.”
That had Brenna looking around at the others. “I’m not about to abandon my ranch to some nutcase who wants to destroy it.”
“I’m with you.” Ash turned to Griff. “This is why Brenna needs a new barn door as soon as possible. Think you can turn her mess into something useful?”
Griff nodded. “I don’t see why not. I may have to buy a few pieces of lumber, if the remnants she has left are too small. But I’m sure I can put together something that will keep out the elements.”
“But will it keep out crazy drivers?” Mad muttered.
“We’ll leave that up to Chief Pettigrew.” Ash patted Brenna’s hand and she shot him a quick smile.
Willow’s brows knit into a frown. “I still think the two of you ought to stay the night.” She turned to her foreman. “Brady? How do you feel about this?”
He glanced across the table at Mad before turning to her. “I think Ash is right. For now, let’s wait for the chief to do his job.” He turned to include Brenna and Vern. “But if Ira decides he needs help, you know we’re here.”
Vern nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a comfort to know you folks have our backs.”
As Myrna began cutting slices of pie and passing them around, the old cowboy’s smile returned.
At his first taste, he was murmuring words of appreciation. “Now, for this I’d sell my ranch, if I had one to sell.”
That had the others smiling and nodding along with him.
Griff sat back, letting the conversation and laughter flow around him. This was all so new and different from anything he’d experienced before.
He’d grown up an only child in a house where silence and secrecy was the rule. Because his mother spent her days teaching school and her evenings grading students’ papers, he’d learned early in life to avoid bringing friends home. Instead, he’d often spent long hours at their houses until hunger would drive him to retu
rn home. Dinner was a quiet affair, just him and his mother. The few times he’d broached the subject of his father, the pain in his mother’s eyes always caused him to retreat. After a while, he’d learned to keep his questions to himself. He’d loved his mother. She was a good woman, if a bit stern. And so he’d held his silence, in order to spare her any further pain.
Now here he was, in his father’s home, with his father’s family and friends, and the love, the laughter, were as enjoyable as they were unexpected. Nothing was as he’d expected. Not Willow, his father’s wife, or her sons, or his grandfather.
Grandfather. The very word took his breath away.
As a boy he’d yearned for family. There hadn’t been so much as a cousin, or an aunt or uncle. His mother had allowed few friends to get close. Maybe that was why the military life had been so appealing. There was a brotherhood, a camaraderie that had filled a void in his life.
Suddenly, there were so many people around him, and all of them family.
Because of Bear MacKenzie. A man he’d wanted to meet. And in truth, expected to hate. Instead, he was learning a great deal about the mysterious Bear and the people who had been closest to him. And with each new fact he learned, he liked and admired the man more, despite his famous temper.
“What do you say, Griff?”
At Ash’s question, his head came up sharply. “Sorry. What?”
“I said, are you willing to give up a day in the hills, experiencing…miracles…, to lend a hand at Brenna’s place first?”
“Yeah. Sure thing.” He saw the winks and smiles being exchanged, and decided to simply enjoy being the butt of their latest joke. “I guess I can give up the mud and the blood and the gore for a little while longer. It’ll give me a chance to try my hand at woodworking again.”
“Great.” Ash caught Brenna’s hand. “See? I told you we’d get that door fixed. Now…” He winked. “How about staying the night? You know Myrna will pamper you. Right, Myrna?”
The old woman was nodding. “No burned toast or slimy eggs here. The only leftovers will be a thick steak, hot off the grill. I’ll fix you and Vern a breakfast fit for royalty.”
