by R. C. Ryan
Cory flushed and bowed his head. “Jake told me to have his number on speed dial in case I needed him. When I saw someone moving outside that was the first thing I thought of.”
Meg picked up the thread of the story. “I was sound asleep, and I never heard a thing until Cory came rushing into my room and told me there was an intruder, that Jake was on his way and we had to barricade the door to my room. In truth, without Cory there, I’d have probably done something foolish. My first impulse was to rush down the stairs and confront him.”
“Your first impulse could have gotten you killed,” Josh said with a glance toward his wife, Sierra. “Especially if the intruder was armed.”
“Exactly.” Big Jim pounded a fist on the countertop for emphasis. “You always have to figure the other guy has the advantage, since he has the element of surprise on his side. Even without a weapon, he’d hear you coming and be prepared.”
“Thank heaven I didn’t have to deal with any of that.” Meg let out a long sigh. “Cory and I just stayed locked in my room until Jake called out to us.” She shook her head. “That was the longest wait of my life.”
Cole looked at his youngest son. “I thought I heard you come in around midnight.”
Jake gave a short laugh. “I had a laundry list of patients last night, ending with Flora’s cat.”
Cole eyed him. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
Jake shrugged. “Don’t worry, Pa. I’ll catch up tonight.” He glanced out the window in time to see the police chief’s car pulling up. “Here’s Everett now. I asked him to join us here.”
Jake walked through the mudroom and held the door open for the chief. “Just in time. We’re about to eat.”
Everett Fletcher was grinning as he greeted the others. “I’m always on time when I’m invited to share a meal with the Conways.”
While he was greeting the others as they took their places around the table, Jake tugged on a lock of Cory’s hair. “Did you see those flapjacks?”
The boy nodded.
“See that big old gravy boat?” Jake pointed to the serving bowl in the middle of the lazy Susan. “That’s Ela’s warm maple syrup. You don’t want to miss that.”
When the platter of pancakes was passed to Cory, the boy helped himself to two before dousing them with syrup.
After that, while the conversation swirled around him, the boy busied himself devouring every crumb. A short time later Ela paused beside him and held out the platter again. After a moment’s hesitation, he helped himself to one more, which he washed down with a tall glass of ice-cold milk.
Jake glanced over and winked, and Cory shot him a grin before lowering his head. With a full stomach, he was content to allow the grown-ups around the table to talk among themselves.
“Can you think of anything at all that he could be after?” Long after they had finished with breakfast, the family lingered at the table, while Chief Fletcher took notes.
Meg shook her head. “I’m just not familiar enough with the house. It’s been too many years. Nothing is the way it was all those years ago when I left.”
“We know this is no random act of vandalism.” Everett glanced around the table, directing his comments as much to the others as to Meg. “The rental car. The pry marks on the barn and back door of the house. And the earlier attempt to take Porter’s files from his office.”
Jake stretched out his long legs and set aside his coffee. “That’s what has me puzzled. If an intruder was after something in Porter’s files, why vandalize Meg’s car?”
The chief shrugged. “I suppose, if he’s mad at Porter, and he can’t take it out on him now that he’s dead, he just decided to take it out on his next of kin.”
“Maybe.” Jake furrowed his brow. “Another thing. If he wanted to steal Porter’s files, why didn’t he?”
“It sure looked like he tried,” Everett said. “There were papers spilled all over that office.”
“Yeah. But the glass doors were still locked from the inside. If he had an armload of files, it seems to me he’d have used the nearest, easiest exit.”
“Maybe he wanted to go out the same way he came in,” Everett said logically.
“Carrying an armload of loose papers? Do you think he’d have carried files all the way down the hall and out the kitchen door? And if he did, why wasn’t there any trace of paper in the hallway? Not even one. Especially since there were papers strewn all over the office.”
The chief’s puzzled frown turned into a smile. “Damned if you wouldn’t make a great investigator, Jake. Why didn’t I think of that? So—” he sat back in his chair “—are you taking this where I think you’re taking it?”
“It’s just a thought. And I could be dead wrong.” Jake glanced at Meg before saying, “What if the intruder isn’t after anything tangible? What if our guy is sneaking around at night hoping to scare the person he considers an outsider so she’ll leave as quickly as possible?”
“For what reason?” she asked.
Jake shrugged. “That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet. But the vandalism on your car just doesn’t make any sense, unless someone wanted to send a message to the one who’s driving it. The same with last night’s attempted break-in. He wanted to get into the barn. I doubt there’s anything of value in there right now, except your rental car. The herds are up in the high country. The tools and vehicles are stored in the other, bigger barn, which wasn’t touched. He wanted to get at that rental car. A rental car that’s insured, so it doesn’t really hurt anyone but the insurance company. Again, all of this seems to point to the fact that he wants to scare the driver.”
Meg gave a wry smile. “He succeeded.”
That relieved some of the tension, and had everyone around the table chuckling.
She leaned forward, her hands folded on the tabletop. “So, if he frightens me, and manages to scare me into leaving town, what does he gain? My father is still dead. His ranch and holdings will no doubt still belong to me. To me and to Cory,” she added, glancing at the boy beside her.
He stared hard at the table, clearly uncomfortable with the nature of the conversation swirling around him.
As if sensing his discomfort, old Ela paused beside his chair and lay a gnarled hand on his shoulder.
His head jerked up. Seeing her, he lowered his gaze, but not before he managed to give her a weak smile.
The chief began musing aloud. “All right. Let’s say our intruder wants Miss Stanford gone. And he gets what he wants. Then what? What does he hope to gain by having her out of the picture?”
Around the table, everyone fell silent.
Cheyenne glanced at Quinn. “A possible chance to buy the ranch?”
Meg shook her head. “I’m already in contact with several auction houses. He would still have to bid along with every other potential buyer.”
“Could there have been some kind of verbal agreement between this intruder and Porter that wasn’t honored? A debt of some sort?” Josh asked.
The chief shook his head. “Without proper documentation, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on now.”
There was a collective sigh among those seated at the table as they began to run out of suggestions.
Jake looked around at his family. “What if we give him what he’s hoping for?” At their puzzled expressions he added, “What if the chief should happen to mention to Flora that Meg and Cory have moved in here for a while because they don’t feel safe at their place?”
“Why not take out an ad on the front page of the Paintbrush Gazette?” Quinn said with a laugh.
“That’s too obvious. But telling Flora is the same as taking out an ad. We know our intruder will hear it loud and clear.”
“And then what?” Sierra, who had been watching and listening with rapt attention, looped her arm through Josh’s, as caught up in the intrigue as the others.
“Then the Conway family does what it does best.” Big Jim smiled at his grandson. “It’s a grand idea, boyo. If this gu
y’s after Meg, he’ll have to bring his dirty tricks here. And we’ll be ready for him.”
“Exactly.” Jake nodded.
“It’s worth a try.” The chief glanced at Meg. “That is, if you’re willing, Miss Stanford.”
Meg was chewing on her lower lip. “I don’t like the idea of having all of you involved in my troubles. Especially if this intruder decides to get even more vicious than just doing damage to a rental car. You’ll all be vulnerable.”
“That’s what neighbors do.” Cole laid a big hand over hers and squeezed.
She let out a long, slow breath. “Thank you. You’re all being so kind. And honestly, I can’t think of any other solution. I’m such a coward, but I know I’d never be able to sleep in my father’s house another night, knowing someone was waiting for his next chance to break in.”
“It’s only for a few days, Miss Stanford.” The chief lumbered to his feet. “At least, Jake, you’ve got us thinking in a new direction. I’m going to ask around town, see what I can find out.” He turned to Meg. “I’ll be at your father’s funeral tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Chief Fletcher.”
“See you, Cory.” When the chief dropped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Cory flinched before looking away. Everett smiled at Phoebe and Ela. “Breakfast was certainly worth the long drive, ladies. My thanks to you both.”
At the back door he retrieved his wide-brimmed hat before walking out to his car.
When he was gone, Jake looked at Meg and Cory. “Why don’t I drive you both back and you can pack a few things?”
“Right now?” Meg pushed back her chair and stood. “I don’t see why we can’t stay at my father’s place for the day.”
He nodded. “All right. You ought to be perfectly safe all day. Whoever is trying to scare you off is afraid to show his face. Why else would he wait until dark to make an appearance?”
Meg turned to Phoebe and Ela. “I’m sorry that we’ll be making extra work for both of you.”
Phoebe answered for both of them. “We’re happy to make you welcome in our home.” She turned to Cory. “Especially because it’s been much too long since we’ve had a boy to fuss over.”
Calling out their good-byes and thanks, Meg and Cory trailed Jake to the mudroom and out the back door. Instead of going to his truck, Jake led them toward the barn, where he spent the next hour examining Shadow’s leg and injecting the colt with an antibiotic before wrapping the leg with clean dressings.
Seeing Jake’s look of concern, Cory looped an arm around the colt’s neck, pressing his face to the soft, velvet muzzle. “Shadow’s leg is getting better, isn’t it?”
Jake forced himself to smile. “I wouldn’t say he’s out of the woods yet, but at least the leg isn’t getting any worse.”
Cory murmured words of encouragement to his colt. “I have to leave you for a little while, but tonight I can spend as much time with you as I like. And maybe, if nobody minds, I’ll even sleep out here with you.”
Jake stood to one side, watching the play of emotions on the boy’s face. It was clear that Cory loved this colt with all his heart.
As they made their way to his truck, he found himself hoping that the drugs worked their miracle as promised. If anybody deserved some good news, it was Cory Stanford. With the loss of his mother and now his father, the boy had faced enough hard times in his young life.
Chapter Ten
On the way to the Stanford ranch, Jake played his phone messages and found himself wondering if there were enough hours in the day to complete all the ranch visits before dark.
Meg studied him as he dropped the phone into his shirt pocket. “I’m sorry we cost you a night’s sleep.”
“Don’t be.” He gave her a smile guaranteed to melt her heart. “All in a day’s work for a Wyoming veterinarian. If it weren’t you, it would have been Flora’s cat or Honey about to give birth to her litter.”
“Those are legitimate reasons to lose sleep.”
“I’d say your emergency was as legitimate as it gets.”
Meg couldn’t help smiling. “Cory and I can’t thank you enough.”
He pulled up to their ranch house. “If you’d like, I could call you when I’m finished with my last patient and pick you up on my way home.”
She shook her head as she climbed down from his truck. “Cory and I will drive over to your place in my car.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at supper time.”
She and Cory waved until he turned the truck around and headed back toward the highway.
When he was gone, Meg took a deep breath and climbed the steps to the back door. She turned to Cory, who hung back. “Coming in?”
“Naw.” He kicked at the dirt. “Guess I’ll do some things in the barn.”
“All right. Don’t forget to pack whatever you’ll need for a couple of days at the Conway ranch.”
He nodded before shoving his hands in his pockets and starting toward the barn.
Meg watched him walk away before turning and letting herself into the house. Despite the heat of the day she shivered. Then, squaring her shoulders, she decided to do something about the gloom of this place.
Meg looked around the great room with a sense of deep satisfaction. She’d begun by taking down all the heavy, dusty draperies that probably hadn’t been cleaned in years. Now sunlight flooded the room. Because there were pull-down blinds for privacy, she had no need to return the drapes to the windows.
She’d boxed up dozens of old framed photos, labeling the top of each box so that she would know which ones she wanted to keep, and which ones Cory would want. A third box held pictures of her father with his second wife, and Meg found herself wondering if Sherry had any distant relatives who might enjoy them.
She finished with a thorough dusting of the shelves, mantel, and faded oak floor. A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. Her father wouldn’t even recognize the place.
She headed up the stairs to pack what she would need for her stay with the Conways. After that, she intended to tackle her father’s room and eliminate a few dozen more boxes she’d spotted in his closet.
Meg folded yet another Western shirt, her father’s trademark, and placed it in a bulging plastic bag. When she’d removed all the shirts and pants from their hangers, she started on the tall leather boots lined up on the floor of the closet.
After bagging several pairs, she caught sight of the large box stored behind them. It was a plain brown box with no markings of any kind. With a sigh she set it inside a large plastic bin into which she’d already tossed several photograph albums. These would give her something to do at the Conway ranch. Whenever she wanted to slip away from the others, she could pass the time going through old photos.
It took her the better part of the day to completely empty her father’s closet. Then she tackled the dresser drawers.
She stood back to admire her handiwork. Ten plastic bags lined the hallway outside her father’s room, ready to be hauled to town. She’d been assured by Reverend Cornell, pastor of the Paintbrush Church, that a group of volunteers would see that everything was clean and mended before their annual clothing drive.
As she headed toward the shower, she felt a warm glow that came from a day of hard work. She’d missed this. With her work as a trial lawyer, the days and weeks of preparation often culminated in a settlement rather than in the satisfaction of a hard-fought trial. She preferred the trial. But it was really the hard work that went into each and every case that gave her the greatest sense of satisfaction.
She had always felt that way.
As a child she’d often worked alongside her father and the wranglers, sharing the hard, dirty, muscle-straining work required for the smooth operation of a ranch. She’d never forgotten the reward of such hard work. Whether it was a clean stall or a healthy horse, bales of hay in the field, or a sturdy roof over the barn, it was instant gratification. There was always a sense that all that hard work paid off. Not to mention the glow that came from
the knowledge that her father approved of her.
That approval had meant the world to her as a child.
The thought had her frowning. As always, the old doubts and hurts crept in to taunt her.
If Porter had really approved of her, he would have fought to see her. Instead, he’d let her go without a word, and he had made no attempt to have any personal contact with her through the years.
What kind of father swept his daughter out of his life, and out of his thoughts, like so much dust?
She stripped and stepped under the hot spray, wishing as always that she could wash away the sting of her father’s dismissal as easily as the grime of hard work.
In her old bedroom she pulled on a pair of clean denims and a cotton blouse of apple green. She allowed her hair to air dry while she packed a few necessities in an overnight bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she paused to pick up the plastic bin in her father’s room, and then headed down the stairs and out to the barn where she’d stored the rental car.
After stashing her things in the trunk, she called out for Cory. Her voice echoed around the empty barn.
Getting no reply, she struggled against the sudden panic that lodged in her throat. She’d been so preoccupied with work in the house, she hadn’t given a single thought to Cory, out here in the barn. What if the intruder had found him, alone and vulnerable, and had kidnapped him?
Or what if Cory, giving in to loneliness and fear, had run off somewhere to grieve by himself?
He was just a little kid. A frightened, very lonely little boy. There was no telling what kind of trouble he could find himself in.
Nudging aside the fear that sent a trickle of ice along her spine, she drove the car to the back door before racing inside.
Cupping her hands to her mouth she called his name as loudly as she could before running from room to room.
Minutes later his head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Yeah?”
She felt a dizzying wave of relief, and realized that her nerves were strung as tightly as violin strings. “There you are. Have you packed some things?”
