The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories
Page 75
At the gate to the high pasture overlooking the dry creek bed and the mouth of Baxter's Draw, Jenny dismounted to open the latch. Horsefly ambled through of his own volition and stood waiting while she re-secured the chain. "Come on," she told him. "I need to stretch my legs."
Obedient as ever, Horsefly fell in behind her and together they walked to a vantage point on the bluff. When he stopped beside her, Jenny looped one arm over Horsefly's neck and he lightly rested his head on her shoulder.
"God, Horsefly," she said softly, "this ole country sure is beautiful, isn't it?"
She was rewarded with an answering exhalation of air she took for agreement, or perhaps contentment since she had begun to scratch just behind the horse's ear in a way he especially liked.
They stood there for a long time as Jenny surveyed the Rocking L stretched out before her. She'd packed a lunch and she had her sketchbook and pencils along, but Jenny was content for the moment to lean against the warmth of Horsefly's neck, drawing comfort from his unconditional and loving companionship.
That morning, Jenny had joined her sister Kate in the dark hour before dawn for their usual coffee time. As they settled in their chairs, Kate had regarded Jenny in the dim light, cocking her head to one side and asking, with mock gravity, “I never did get around to asking you if you even remember how to mend wire.”
“Really?” Jenny said, affecting an equally mock scowl. “Now's a hell of a time to ask me.”
“Well,” Kate grinned, “it’s a fair question since you're riding fence.”
Jenny shook her head and intoned patiently, "Yes, ma'am, I remember how to mend wire.”
Kate instinctively understood Jenny's need for purposeful time alone and had offered no objection to her sister's desire to take over the job of patrolling the fence lines. This morning, however, Kate had something to tell Jenny that would give her even more to think about and Kate found herself reluctant to broach the topic.
As she refilled their cups from the thermos that sat on the low table between their chairs, Kate said, by way of an opening, "You know, everybody thinks we have it pretty easy out here."
"How do you know that?" Jenny asked, accepting the cup Kate held out to her.
"Scuttlebutt gets back to me," Kate answered. "Men are worse gossips than women ever thought about being. I hear a lot more than you might think in the name of 'exchanging information.'"
"Is that what they call it?" Jenny asked with a smirk.
"It is," Kate said. "Either that or 'talking politics.'"
After a decade of running her own ranch by herself, Kate was widely respected in the community and well liked by the local ranchers. She moved among them freely, playing their games with practiced skill. They knew her ability to bluff at a poker table with a perfectly straight face, and even though she now coped with a badly crippled shoulder, Kate was still the best shot in the county.
"So what are people saying?" Jenny asked.
"That we fell into millions and a cave full of treasure and we're walking in tall cotton without a worry in the world," Kate answered.
"Well," Jenny said, "it's true enough that we don't want for anything, but as for no worries? I wish."
"Tell me about it," Kate said. "People don't have any idea what we really went through with Daddy all those years. Personally, I feel like we earned every damn penny of his money. Let'em talk."
"Amen," Jenny said. "But if you don't care what people are saying, why are you telling me about it?"
Kate shifted in her chair. "Because there's more to it," she admitted. "There's a good bit of talk going around town about how you and Josh split up."
"I would have expected there would be," Jenny said. "So what?"
"Well," Kate said, "I don't want you to hear the rest of it from somebody other than me, because it's gonna make you madder than a wet hen."
"And you think I'm not going to be madder than a wet hen hearing whatever it is from you?" Jenny asked, raising her eyebrows.
Kate chuckled. "No, but you know better than to try to take your mad out of my hide."
"True," Jenny agreed. "So what's the National Inquirer version of my life story?"
"That Josh is the latest Baxter to be used and hung out to dry by a Lockwood," Kate said.
Jenny felt the blood rise to her face. "Damn it," she swore. "What is that supposed to mean, the latest Baxter? Do you really understand this whole Lockwood - Baxter feud thing anyway?"
"Not really," Kate admitted. "Daddy never had much to say about it, but I did think 'goddamnbaxter' was one word growing up. Did Josh tell you anything about the whole business?"
Jenny shook her head. "Just the story about our grandfather getting Daniel Baxter drunk and taking the draw off him in a poker game. You have to remember that Josh really didn't have any relatives other than Melville, and according to Josh, Mel didn't care about ancient history. He told Josh it was Daniel's own fault for getting liquored up and raising on a pair of fours."
"Well," Kate said, "it's funny you should mention what Daniel was holding in his hand. Did Josh tell you what cards our granddaddy laid down on the table?"
"No," Jenny said. "What did he have?"
"Aces and eights," Kate said. "Dead man's hand."
"Oh, come on," Jenny scoffed. "That's right out of a B-grade Western. Are you going to tell me Wild Bill Hickok himself was sitting at the table?"
Kate laughed again. "I always figured it was a big windy, too, and I said so to Daddy one time."
"And what did the sage Langston Lockwood have to say about that?"
"He said, 'Sister, Daddy was just reminding Daniel Baxter that dead men tell no tales.'"
Jenny frowned. "That makes it sound like Granddaddy drew that hand on purpose."
"Exactly," Kate said. "Which he could only do if he was, indeed, cheating."
"He must have wanted the draw pretty bad to risk a stunt like that," Jenny said.
"Yes," Kate said, "and apparently it worked because Daniel Baxter never disputed the outcome of that poker game. The whole story certainly adds a new layer of intrigue to the draw and the Lockwood - Baxter family relations."
"The last thing we need is another layer of intrigue about anything," Jenny said sternly. "I told you no good ever comes of that damned draw. We do not need to start throwing dead men in the mix. And while we're at it, I did not hang Josh out to dry."
Kate grinned. "I wondered when we were gonna work back around to that part," she said wryly.
Jenny set her mouth in a decided frown. "Last time I looked, none of those town gossips were living in the house with us. They don't have a clue what went on between me and Josh."
"True," Kate said. "But from what I hear, Josh isn't doing anything to squelch the rumors."
Jenny looked at her slack jawed. "I don't believe that," she said. "Josh wouldn't feed the gossip mill."
Kate started to speak, hesitated, and chose to take a drink of her coffee instead.
"What?" Jenny demanded. "Out with it."
Sighing, Kate said, "Buck Miller told me Josh is spending a lot of time at the Bloody Bucket."
The expression on Jenny's face turned to one of outright shock. "Doing what?" she asked.
"Honey," Kate said, "it's a beer joint. What do you think he's doing? He's sitting at the bar drinking pretty much every night until closing time."
"And just why did the deputy sheriff take it upon himself to share this bit of information with you?" Jenny asked indignantly. "Has Josh done something to get cross ways with the law?"
"No," Kate said. "Simmer down. Buck just thought I should know given the situation. He was worried Josh might get tight and show up out here. There has been a fair amount of gun play on this ranch in the last couple of years."
"Not of our making," Jenny said crossly. "And Josh is not the kind of man to get drunk and confrontational."
Kate sighed and said diplomatically, "We didn't think he was the kind of man to throw a mad, cussing fit either."
&n
bsp; Jenny looked at her for a long minute and then asked, "Are you worried about this?"
"Not at the moment," Kate said, "but I'm glad Buck told me, and I think you should start locking your doors at night."
"If Josh wants to get in my place," Jenny said, "a locked door won't keep him out."
"Then maybe you ought to think about loading a gun," Kate suggested quietly.
"All my guns are loaded and you know it," Jenny said.
"Alright. Then sleep up here at the main house until Josh settles down and gets his head on straight," Kate suggested.
Jenny shook her head. "I don't know," she said doubtfully. "I'll have to think about that. Has Jake noticed any change in Josh's behavior?"
"He says Josh comes in with bloodshot eyes, but he does his work, and other than being quieter than usual, he's himself," Kate said. "But it was Jake's idea that you sleep in your old room for a while."
That last bit of information caught Jenny unawares. She was used to Kate being over-protective, but Jake was typically unflappable. It was one of the things that Jenny liked best about the man.
The fact that Kate had opened her heart to Jake after living alone for so many years spoke volumes about him. As Jenny watched the two of them together, she envied the ease with which they'd slipped into the familiarity of an old married couple even though neither one of them was interested in that particular formality. When Jenny asked Jake about it, he simply shrugged, and said with a grin, "Why ruin a perfectly good relationship?"
After pondering his answer for a few days, Jenny realized that while the remark sounded flippant, Jake was being insightful about her sister's nature. He understood Kate's need to preserve her autonomy above all else, especially now that she lived with her handicap. Unlike Josh, who had all but hounded Jenny to set a wedding date, Jake was perfectly content with what he had, and Kate was happier than Jenny had ever seen her.
"Jake actually said that?" Jenny asked. "He believes Josh might do something?"
"He doesn't know for sure any more than I do," Kate answered. "But he did have lunch with Phil one day last week and talked to him about Josh."
The addition of Phil Baxter to the family in the wake of the revelation that he was their little sister Mandy's real father was actually one of the least stressful changes on the Rocking L in recent memory.
A gentle old hippie with a fondness for alternative energy projects, Phil happily established himself in a tiny cabin in the little meadow above the river bottom. His presence on the ranch thrilled Mandy and Phil was already fulfilling a grandfatherly role in the lives of Sissy and Missy Wilson, the 8-year-old twins Mandy and her husband Joe Bob Mason had taken to raise after their parents' deaths.
"What did Phil say?" Jenny asked.
"He told Jake that he was worried about Josh," Kate replied, "and that Josh was starting to act a little bit like Phil's brother, Eddie."
"Which means?"
"Apparently Eddie was known for having a nasty temper and he liked to drink," Kate said.
Before the night Jenny had stood in the shadows by the barn door and watched Josh lose his temper over a stripped screw, she would have denied the man had even a suggestion of ill humor in him. But then she had seen him throwing tools and swearing in an eerie echo of one of her own father's tantrums. It had been enough to make her turn and run, but she still hadn't settled the question of why. Was her reaction evidence of her own inability to trust or had Josh's loving and understanding demeanor been an act all along? And now there was the news that he was drinking.
She hadn't given Kate an answer about the sleeping arrangements, but Jenny did accept the loaded 30-30 Kate held out to her in a saddle scabbard. As Jenny tied the rifle in place, Kate said, "Just keep your eyes open out there."
"I will," Jenny said, putting her boot in the stirrup and pulling herself into the saddle, "but I don't expect to run into trouble. I'm going up to the bluffs today."
"Alright," Kate said, resting her hand on Jenny's knee, "but you think about what we talked about, and if you're not back by supper, I'm coming after you."
"I'll be back long before supper," Jenny assured her. "Please, don't worry. I need to do this and I'm not going to let Josh Baxter make me afraid to ride my own land. You wouldn't be."
"No," Kate said, "and that's how I wound up with a bullet in my shoulder."
"Now you sound like Daddy," Jenny said, smiling down at her.
As if on cue, the two women said in unison, "Do as I say, not as I do," and then burst out laughing.
"Daddy may have been an old bastard," Kate said, "but he had a line for every occasion."
"That he did," Jenny agreed.
They stood silently for a moment and then Kate said, "Alright, get going. You're burning daylight."
Now, hours later, as Jenny looked out over the rolling expanse of the Rocking L, she found herself torn over the things Kate had told her that morning. The last thing she wanted was to spend one more day of her life afraid of anyone or anything, but common sense told her Josh Baxter had never been what he seemed.
If that was true, she had no basis on which to guess what he might or might not do next. The man she had lived with for more than a year was suddenly a complete unknown, and unlike her grandfather, Jenny had no ability to manipulate the cards. She had to play the hand she was dealt.
"What do you think I should do, Horsefly?" she asked, still scratching the horse's ear.
On cue, Horsefly gently bobbed his head up and down, lightly bumping her shoulder.
"Yeah," Jenny said, "that's what I think, too. I guess I'm moving back into my old room."
113
Jenny took the long way down from the high limestone bluffs until she reached the river, then rode alongside the blue-green water and beneath the massive old trees where the herons nested in the spring. Like her father before her, she felt drawn to the statuesque birds with their handsome gray bodies and dramatic white-capped heads.
The Great Blue Heron is a solitary hunter, ruling that space where the land and the water meet. Jenny envied the birds their concentration and focused sense of being in the world. On a whim, she had downloaded a book on animal symbols and was not surprised to read that the heron represents aggressive self-determination.
Shaking her head at the appropriateness of the sentiment, she highlighted a single sentence. "It reflects a need for those with this totem to follow their own innate wisdom and path of self-determination." Jenny certainly didn't feel innately wise, but she did feel an affinity to a creature that existed by wading deeply at the water's edge.
In her rambles, Jenny seized every opportunity to come home by the river just to catch a glimpse of one of the birds. As usual, she was not disappointed, happening upon a single heron standing watch by a deep pool filled with perch. The slight breeze played with the long, thin feathers on the heron's breast, and as she and Horsefly went by, one amber eye, sharp with intelligence, registered her presence. But beyond that recognition, there was no movement in the bird's body, and Jenny knew at any moment it would dive head first into the still water and come up with a struggling fish.
Kate wouldn't be happy with her for intentionally risking running into Josh near the back entrance to the cave, but from her conversations with Jake, Jenny knew the team from the Institute was working much deeper inside the subterranean structure.
There was no sign of activity there or at Phil Baxter's cabin. In fact, Jenny hadn't seen a living soul since dawn. She was so absorbed in her thoughts as she came into the big pasture by Mandy's house she might have missed the movement to her left if Horsefly hadn't nickered to get her attention. Looking up, Jenny saw a small figure with raised, waving arms standing on the retaining wall at the back of the house.
Jenny waved back in acknowledgement and altered her course. As she drew closer, she recognized Mandy, noting with approval that her sister was almost back to her normal weight. In the weeks after her miscarriage, Mandy grew gaunt with a haunted, hollow look in he
r usual round and bright face.
The death of the twins’ mother, Jolene Wilson, left Mandy even more wounded and bereft. Jolene was her best friend and closest confidante apart from her sisters. Now, charged with the care of Jolene’s daughters, Sissy and Missy, Mandy had forced herself up out of her depression and was finding meaningful outlets for her grief. The fact that Joe Bob had shelved his plans of seeking a seat in the legislature in favor of another run for the mayor’s office also helped to buoy Mandy’s spirits.
Without question, Mandy was a woman who thrived on staying busy and having projects to organize. These days, Jenny seldom saw her sister without her iPad in one hand and a bulging portfolio of paper notes in the other. Mandy had joined the PTA, was helping with the girls’ scout troop, and was the chairperson of the committee to organize refreshments for their upcoming dance recital.
Mandy balanced those activities with ordering election paraphernalia for Joe Bob, setting up and staffing his campaign office, and continuing to lead the downtown revitalization committee that would be hosting a fundraising street dance in three weeks. The goal was to pay for new Christmas decorations, which were scheduled to go up all along Main Street on the day after Thanksgiving as part of a weekend's worth of events to generate sales for local businesses.
Today Mandy was apparently working from home. She wore a bright pink sweatshirt emblazoned with a fashionable stiletto-heeled pump and the words, “Keep calm and go shopping.” With her blonde hair pulled up in a casual ponytail and without more than a hint of makeup, Mandy looked like she could still be the head cheerleader busily planning a Friday afternoon pep rally.
Jenny drew Horsefly to a stop at the base of the retaining wall and looked up at her sister. "Hey," she said, by way of greeting. "What are you doing out here flapping your arms around?"
Mandy grinned at her. "Trying to get you to notice me so I can offer you a cup of coffee."
"If you'll make that one of your lattes, the answer is yes.”