by Janet Dailey
Beau’s color was rising, and with it, his temper. “Look around, you lamebrain! It’s already disturbed! Your deputies were here yesterday. They took photos, picked up a few things that caught their eyes, and left. Your people are done here.”
Will was quick to jump into the argument. “Damn it, Sheriff, we need to clear this place to rebuild the barn. Every day—every hour—we lose puts us closer to winter. If you want to look through those trash piles, go ahead. But we can’t afford to stop working.”
Abner pouted beneath his trooper’s hat. “You know, I could have you charged with obstruction of justice for destroying evidence.”
“Hell, I’m already charged with that!” Will snapped. “What do you want us to do, put everything back the way it was? You’re not even making sense. This is nothing but harassment!”
The situation was becoming a powder keg, about to blow, which could be just what Abner wanted—an excuse to drag Will back to jail. Fearing the worst, Tori stepped forward. “Sheriff,” she said in a firm but civil voice, “you’re welcome to look around, but this is private property. Unless you have a court order, we have no obligation to stop this work.”
Abner puffed his chest, saying nothing.
“Do you have a court order?” Tori asked again.
“I can get one.”
“Then please don’t interfere until you have it.” Tori’s voice dripped ice.
“I’ll guarantee you haven’t heard the end of this!” Abner wheeled and stalked back toward his SUV. His oversized tires spat gravel as he drove away.
Beau gazed after him, shaking his head. “Now what the hell do you suppose that was about?” he mused out loud.
“I don’t know,” Tori said. “But I had the distinct impression that the sheriff was bluffing.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea who might’ve put him up to it,” Will said. “But what we need right now is to forget Abner Sweeney and get this mess cleared away from the foundation. Let’s get the hell back to work.”
* * *
Feeling like a fool, Abner Sweeney gripped the steering wheel with sweating hands. His pulse was racing, and his prostate was acting up again. If he couldn’t hold it till he got back to his office, he’d have to pull off the road and pee in the cold. To make matters worse, his personal cell phone was ringing, a call he knew better than to ignore. Slowing down, he reached for the phone in his pocket.
“Well, how did it go?” Hearing Stella’s voice was like feeling a rattlesnake crawl across his foot. “Did you put the fear into those Tylers?”
Abner stifled a groan. “I gave it a shot, but Tori was there. When I threatened to arrest Will for obstruction, she demanded that I show a court order to put the barn site off-limits—something no judge would give me. All I could do was leave.”
“That bitch!” Stella muttered, then continued. “But you told them your son-in-law was murdered, didn’t you?”
“I told them I suspected it. They’ll be wondering about that for a while.” Even though it isn’t true, Abner reminded himself. It had taken the retired surgeon who served as part-time county coroner about five minutes to determine that Ralph had been kicked in the head by a horse. Whether it was the blow that killed him or the smoke he’d inhaled while unconscious would have to be determined by a full autopsy. Either way, as he’d already told Stella, the boy’s death hadn’t been murder.
“Well, you’d better keep pushing those Tylers,” Stella said. “Will Tyler murdered my Nicky. Don’t give that bastard a moment’s peace.”
Abner ended the call, pulled onto the shoulder of the road, and emptied his bladder in the barrow pit. At least, so far, there was no evidence to prove Ralph had started the fire. But he was sick of being Stella’s errand boy. When he’d held Vonda’s baby son in his arms, he’d realized he needed to be a better man, and a better example to his family. But how could he walk away from Stella when she knew enough to destroy him?
Still thinking about her, he climbed back in the SUV and headed for his office in town. It wasn’t like he’d done anything seriously illegal. But in exchange for interest-free loans, which he always paid back, he’d traded department information with the woman. And he’d looked the other way while she carried on her so-called business transactions. That night when he’d met Ralph on the road, he’d suspected his son-in-law might be running drugs for Stella. But he’d played dumb and let the boy go, partly for Vonda’s sake, but mostly because he hadn’t wanted to get crosswise with Stella. Maybe his sins weren’t bad enough to get him sent to prison. But if word got out, his ass would get fired on the spot, and he’d never work in law enforcement again.
Now, with Vonda and her baby in the house, and two more mouths to feed, he needed his job more than ever. But the thought of what Stella would ask for next, and what she’d do if he refused, was keeping him awake nights.
Since her brother’s death, Stella was becoming more and more demanding—like today, when she’d ordered him to drive out to the Rimrock and harass the Tylers just to make trouble. It was as if she’d become obsessed with punishing not just Will, but the whole family.
Abner had no love for the Tylers. But enough was enough. If Will’s upcoming trial ended in acquittal—which it could, given the true evidence and a fair-minded jury—Abner feared that Stella’s fury would push her over the edge. He dreaded what she might do—and what she might demand of him.
Somehow he needed to get clear of this mess. But how? Walk away, or try to arrest her, and the woman would use what she knew to take him down, or worse. Stella had trapped him—just as she’d trapped Hoyt Axelrod, Slade Haskell, Lute Fletcher, Garn Prescott, and poor, stupid Ralph.
All of those names were inscribed on tombstones now, or soon would be.
Was his name destined to be next?
* * *
Still unsettled by the clash with Abner, Tori walked back to the house. The dry November breeze bit through her thin cotton shirt, raising goose bumps on her skin. In her race to catch up with Will, she’d left her jacket in the house. Now her teeth were chattering.
Behind her, Will, Beau, and the crew of ranch hands had gone back to clearing away the barn debris. They’d be at it all day, until dark, then back on the job by sunrise.
Will had looked exhausted this morning, she thought. The strain of the ranch’s money problems, the coming trial, and now the loss of the barn, all had to be wearing him down. But she knew better than to fuss over the man and insist he rest. Will wouldn’t stand for that. He’d be out there pushing till he dropped. Some things never changed.
Natalie’s white SUV was parked next to the porch. Seeing it, she remembered that her friend had promised to come by this morning and check Tesoro’s shoulder wound.
She found Natalie in the kitchen, drinking coffee while Lauren finished a breakfast of bacon and eggs. Jasper had gone, and Erin was nowhere in sight.
“Your daughter’s getting her coat,” Natalie said. “Do you want to come out to the shed with us?”
“If it won’t take too long.” Tori had planned to drive into town to check her house and take care of some legal matters. Even with Will’s case pending, there were other clients who needed her. She couldn’t fall behind on the work that was her livelihood. “Lauren, you’re welcome to go in and rest on my bed.”
Lauren rose, gathered up her dishes, and carried them to the sink. “I’ll rest better at home after a shower and a change of clothes,” she said, loading the dishwasher. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine driving back to town.”
Erin burst into the kitchen, wearing her fleece-lined denim jacket. “I hope Tesoro’s okay. He looked fine when I went out to feed and water him before breakfast.”
“Even if he’s fine, we’ll need to check the wound and change the dressing,” Natalie said. “Did you wash your hands, Erin?”
“I did. Let’s go.”
Tori slipped on the old work coat she wore around the ranch. “Be careful, Lauren, okay?”
“I will.�
�� Lauren found her coat and purse and headed for her car. Tori hurried through the back door after Erin and Natalie, who’d brought her black leather medical bag.
Until his shoulder healed, young Tesoro couldn’t be allowed in the paddock with his roughhousing friends. A stall-sized enclosure at one end of the hay shed had been blocked off for the palomino foal and his mother, Lupita. The buckskin mare raised her head and nickered at their approach. “I bet she’s lonesome,” Erin said. “She doesn’t understand why she and Tesoro can’t be with the other horses.”
“Smart thinking, Erin.” Natalie set her bag on the ground outside the enclosure. “How did you figure that out?”
“Sky’s always telling me to think like a horse, so that’s what I try to do,” Erin said. “I wish he was here. I really miss him.”
“We all miss him,” Tori said. “At least your dad said he was doing better this morning.”
“Next time somebody goes to see him in the hospital, can I go, too?”
“We’ll decide that later.” Seeing Sky burned and bandaged could be too much for the girl, Tori thought. But then, her daughter was mature beyond her years. She would probably handle it fine.
“Remember what we talked about in the kitchen, Erin. Are you ready?” Natalie pulled two sets of latex gloves out of a packet in her bag and handed one pair to Erin. “Can you hold the mare out of the way, Tori? She might not understand what we’re doing to her baby.”
“Got her.” Tori didn’t have the Tyler touch with horses, but she was confident enough to grasp Lupita’s halter and, with pats and reassurance, ease the mare to the far side of the makeshift stall.
Erin had put on the latex gloves Natalie had given her. Tori watched in disbelief as Natalie took Tesoro’s head and stepped back to make room for Erin in the stall. “You’re the one he trusts, Erin,” Natalie said. “Go ahead.”
The area around the gash in Tesoro’s shoulder had been lightly shaved, and there was a gauze dressing taped in place. Singing softly to her trembling foal—as Tori had known Sky to do—Erin stroked his neck with her left hand, while her right gently peeled away the tape and lifted off the gauze dressing. “What do you think?” she asked, stepping back so Natalie could see.
The eight-inch wound, probably a skin rip from an exposed nail or splintered wood in the barn, didn’t look as bad as Tori had feared it would. However, the sight of the torn edge, gleaming with ointment, made her knees go watery. She soothed the nervous mare, her hand gripping the rope halter, her eyes on her daughter. She’d never realized Erin was capable of doing what she was doing now.
“The wound doesn’t look infected.” Natalie spoke in answer to Erin’s question. “But it’s still oozing a little. I’d say we should keep the dressing on it at least one more day. Here.” She handed Erin a fresh, ointment-coated gauze pad. Erin pressed it gently into place and secured it with lengths of surgical tape. The golden foal quivered, but didn’t try to move.
“Good job,” Natalie said as Erin stepped back. “It might fall off later. If it does, don’t worry. Just let the wound heal in the air.”
Tori let go of the mare. “You did great,” she told her daughter as they walked back to the house. “I was proud of you. Maybe you should think of becoming a vet, like Natalie, one day.”
“I have thought about it.” Erin sounded surprisingly grown-up. “I wouldn’t mind being a vet, but I’d have to go away for my schooling—for years. I don’t want to leave the ranch that long.”
“But, surely, you’ll want to go to college,” Tori said. “The money’s there. Your grandpa Bull left it to you in his will.”
“Dad never went to college,” Erin said. “Neither did Sky. I want to stay right here on the ranch and train horses. I can learn all I need to know right here.”
Tori gazed at her daughter, already growing so tall. This was a child speaking, she reminded herself. A child just short of her thirteenth birthday.
“I know the ranch needs money right now,” Erin said. “I’m going to tell Dad he can use what Grandpa left me.”
“Erin! Your dad would never take that money from you!”
“Not even to help save the ranch?”
“Not for anything,” Tori said, knowing she was right. “Do you want to go into town with me this morning? We could get lunch at Burger Shack. You must be getting tired of leftover turkey.”
Erin hesitated, then shook her head. “I’ll stay here. I want to keep an eye on Tesoro. If I go, I’ll be worried about him.”
“All right. I’ll see you later, then.” Tori watched her daughter scamper off toward the coop to gather eggs for Bernice. Maybe by the time she finished high school, Erin would change her mind about college. But she had inherited her father’s stubborn nature and his love for the land. Something told Tori that her decision was final. As a mother she could only hope and pray it was the right one.
After changing her jacket and collecting her briefcase, Tori went out to her wagon and headed for town. When had her little girl become such a determined young woman? she wondered as she drove. What would Erin do if the worst happened and the Rimrock was no longer there for her?
Tori remembered Will’s request—that if he was sentenced to prison, she and Erin would move back to the ranch. She’d told him she’d have to think it over. But now, after hearing Erin’s decision, she knew it would be her only option.
How would that limit Tori’s life, especially if things became serious with Drew? But how could she even think about that when Will was facing years behind bars?
The jangle of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. With her free hand, she fished it out of her purse. The caller was Drew.
“Hi,” she said, realizing she’d scarcely given him a thought since the barn fire. “How’s Omaha?”
“Boring. I missed my favorite lady, so I drove back early. I know you’re busy, but I need to talk to you. How about getting together for lunch?”
CHAPTER 16
Tori had an hour-long appointment with a middle-aged couple, setting up a family trust for their grown children. After they’d left, she spent another hour organizing the paperwork and filling out the formal documents on her computer. The next time she glanced at her watch, it was almost noon—time to meet Drew for a quick lunch at the Burger Shack.
Seeing him again would be good for her, she’d told herself. Drew was easy to be with. He always knew how to make her smile. But anxiety gnawed at her as she drove to Blanco’s only restaurant. Drew wouldn’t have come home early on a whim. Something had to be weighing on his mind.
Drew had offered to pick her up at home, but she’d told him she had errands to run after lunch, which was true. It was also true that if they were alone in his car or her house, and he wanted to push her to a decision, things could get emotional. Meeting in public would be a safeguard against regrettable words and actions.
His car was parked outside the Burger Shack when she pulled up. He’d be waiting for her inside, maybe expecting some answers about their relationship. But she had none to give him. The past few days had left her more distracted and confused than ever.
The Burger Shack was crowded today, the booths and tables full. Behind the counter a cook was piling up a tower of takeout pizza boxes. Somebody must’ve ordered for an army, Tori thought.
Drew stood next to the booth he was saving. He gave Tori a smile as she walked through the door. He looked like a photo from GQ, in a gray sweater, khaki slacks, and a dark brown lambskin jacket. Tori, still in the frayed jeans and plaid shirt she’d worn on the ranch, with her hair raked back in a careless ponytail, looked more like a panhandler he’d invited in off the street.
Always the gentleman, he helped her with her coat before they sat down, facing each other across the red-checked vinyl tablecloth.
“How was your holiday?” she asked.
“Not bad. Eating dinner with my sister, her husband, and three rambunctious kids was better than eating alone. How was yours?”
He woul
dn’t know about the fire, of course. Tori shook her head. “Awful. It’s a long story. Let’s order, and I’ll tell you.”
The waitress had reached their booth. Tori scanned the menu, deciding on a tuna melt and coffee. Drew ordered a burger, fries, and a Coke.
“So tell me,” he said. “Was your Thanksgiving really that bad?”
She told him, then, about the fire, the horses that had to be rescued, the injuries to Sky, and the dead man they’d found after the fire was out. Drew listened, his expression sympathetic.
“Good Lord, you weren’t kidding, were you? It must’ve been terrible, being there and going through that. I’m so sorry.”
His hand slid across the tabletop to rest on hers. That was when the restaurant door opened and Will strode in.
He was headed for the counter—and the pizzas he’d evidently ordered for his work crew—when, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the pair holding hands in the booth.
Tori saw him hesitate, as if resolving to ignore them and leave. But knowing Will, she had a feeling that wouldn’t happen. Instinctively, she tried to pull her hand free. Drew tightened his clasp in a gesture of possession, pinning her palm firmly against the tabletop.
The two men had never met, but there was little doubt they recognized each other. Will would know Drew because he was with Tori. And Drew, sensing Tori’s sudden reaction, would guess that he was looking at her ex-husband.
Jaw set, Will turned and walked toward them, taking his time, like a bull elk sizing up a rival. He was dusty, unshaven, and windburned, his eyes still reddened from smoke as he loomed over the table. “Will Tyler.” His voice was a hoarse growl. “Pardon me if I don’t shake hands. I’ve been shoveling ashes most of the morning.”
Drew had risen. He was almost as tall as Will, but a few years younger and probably twenty pounds lighter. In a physical fight his only chance would be to run. “Drew Middleton,” he introduced himself. “Tori was just telling me that your barn burned. I’m sorry. Nobody deserves that kind of bad luck.”
