“Who the hell else would do it? He’s the ringleader of the turbine opposition, and the only one who lives within riding distance. When the sheriff went out to his place to ask about McTavish’s whereabouts, he wasn’t there. That’s all the proof I need. So here’s the deal, Billy. We’ll agree not to press charges against McTavish if he signs on with the project.”
With one finger, Billy pushed the untouched glass of whiskey back to the middle of the table and rose to his feet, picking his hat off the table. “Here’s something for you to think about, Boyd. The only clear line of sight to the met tower on Wolf Butte is from McTavish’s porch, and even there it’s hard to see because of the distance.
“You said yourself the only way you could get up on Wolf Butte to check it out was by horseback. Tom Carroll’s never been on a horse in his life. Which means he knew that met tower was already down. One of the project’s pilots probably reported it during an aerial survey and Tom figured today was a good day to make a big public fuss about it.” Billy pulled on his hat and started to leave, then paused. “I don’t suppose you know who slashed my tires, Boyd?”
Boyd surged to his feet, his face tight with anger. “I can think of about two hundred people who’d like to have done it,” he said, “and when I find out which one of ’em it was, I’ll shake their hand. It’s gonna get worse for you, Billy.”
Billy nodded. “I expect it will, Boyd.”
He turned and walked out the door of the Dog and Bull. As he headed for his truck he spotted Travis Roy being corralled against the side of a shiny late-model black F-350 diesel crew cab by a group of young women. Billy was mad enough that he didn’t pay any attention to the men gathered on the far side of his own truck, sharing a bottle in a paper bag. It was a common enough sight in the parking lot. One of them motioned to him as he reached for his door handle.
“Hey, mister,” the one holding the paper bag said. “Looks like one of your rear tires might be a little low on air.”
Billy released the handle with a quiet curse and walked around the front of his truck. The man holding the bag pointed to the rear tire while the other three shifted restlessly. One of them let out a nervous giggle. He could hear the hiss of air and see the tire was well on its way to being flat. He had a pretty good idea how it got that way.
“Looks like you’re having some real bad luck today,” the bag holder said, and then he grinned. As the others started to snicker, Billy felt anger sear through him like a wildfire. He was going to enjoy wiping the grins off of all their faces.
He threw the first punch and put all his weight behind it. The right cross was a doozy that lifted the bag holder off his feet, wiped the sneer off his face and sent him crashing into his three friends. Billy dove after him, wanting nothing more than to tear all of them to shreds, but as it turned out, they weren’t nearly as drunk as they’d first appeared, and when the smoke cleared, it was Travis Roy and his clinging entourage of female fans who saved Billy’s bacon.
* * *
THERE WASN’T A shred of sympathy in the sheriff’s eyes when he looked Billy up and down ten minutes later. “Looks like you got the worst of it,” he remarked. “What happened here?”
“This man attacked us, sheriff,” the bag holder whined through a wad of bloody paper towels he was holding to his nose. “We was only trying to help him out by letting him know he had a flat tire, and then he just attacked us. Broke my nose, I think. Bastard went crazy on us.”
“You boys want to press charges?” the sheriff asked.
“Hell, yes,” the bag holder said. “I mean, he broke my nose, didn’t he?”
“Sheriff, if I could just say something here?” Travis Roy, standing next to Billy, interjected in his smooth-as-honey, slick-talking drawl. “I was nearby when all this went down, and it appeared to me straight off that these boys were doing something illegal out here. Firstly, they were drinking liquor out of a paper bag, and secondly, they were messing with this man’s vehicle. I saw one of them cut the sidewall of his rear tire with a hunting knife just before he came out and caught them at it. All this man did was try to defend his property from being vandalized by these rednecks. If anyone should be pressing charges, it’s Billy Mac.”
Billy wasn’t sure he was hearing things right. He wiped his eyes with his forearm and spit out a mouthful of blood. It was all he could do to remain on his feet. He had no idea who’d hauled him up off the ground and didn’t remember all that much of the fight, but he knew for damned sure he hadn’t won it.
“He’s right, sheriff, we saw it, too,” a gushing female voice piped up. “Travis Roy went right to the rescue. I’ve never seen anything so brave in my entire life! If Travis hadn’t stepped in like that, this man would be dead by now, beaten to death by these hoodlums, I’m sure of it. One of them hit this man over the head with that bottle they were drinking. They were kicking and hitting him while he was down on the ground. They were trying to kill him. It was awful to watch!”
“That right?” the sheriff commented, unimpressed.
Billy stood unsteadily on his feet, listening to Travis Roy being elevated to hero status. His fan club had no doubt taken photos of the whole altercation with their cell phones, soon to be sold to all the gossip rags. He wiped more blood out of his eyes and felt a hand close around his upper arm.
“I’ll drive Billy home, sheriff,” Travis Roy said. “It’s the least I can do, seeing’s he rescued my ex-wife from a potentially life-threatening situation at the Grange Hall today. You should keep a closer eye on these thugs. Book ’em for slashing tires and drinking in a public place and harassing Shannon McTavish when she was just trying to entertain this Podunk town. Bear Paw used to be a decent, law-abiding place. Not anymore.”
“Yeah, Travis is right, this town really stinks!” his groupies echoed. The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his gun belt with a scowl but didn’t say a word as Travis steered Billy over to his shiny black F-350 crew cab and helped him crawl into the passenger seat. Billy was too punch-drunk to speak and wouldn’t have known what to say, even if he could. Travis Roy, the alcoholic wife abuser, had just rescued him from a brutal beating, had prevented the sheriff from detaining and possibly arresting him, and was now driving him back to the ranch.
How would he ever explain any of this to Shannon?
* * *
SHANNON SAT ON the edge of the bed, staring at her open suitcase and the jumble of clothing hastily packed inside. She didn’t know what to do. Should she stick it out on the ranch or head for California? She’d never been more confused, more undecided about anything in her entire life. She was furious with her father for riding off without telling anyone where he was going, and equally angry with Billy for literally dragging her off the stage at the Grange Hall barbecue. He had a helluva nerve treating her that way in front of half the town. Then again, he’d only come into town in the first place to make sure Rose was safe. And someone had slashed his tires.
One moment she was adding the last of their clothes to the suitcase and the next she was thinking she should unpack their things and wait till the dust had settled.
Rose crawled into her arms and wrapped her own arms around Shannon’s neck. “I love you, Momma. I love you so much. But if we leave here, it’ll go back to the way it was before. You’ll be gone all the time and I’ll never see you. Don’t take me away from here, Momma. Can’t we please stay with Grampy and Billy and Tess?”
What Rose said was true. In Nashville, Rose had been under the supervision of a full-time nanny while Shannon was on the road or practicing with the band or in the studio writing songs. These last few weeks she’d spent more time with her daughter than she had in the past six years. Isn’t that why she’d vowed to give up her singing career after the divorce? Was it possible for her to be a good mother and have a successful career? Other mothers managed to do it. Why couldn’t she?
Rose didn’t want to leave and
the truth was, Shannon didn’t want to leave, either. She still loved this valley, these mountains, this land. And in spite of everything that had passed between them, she still loved her father and always would.
The feelings she had for Billy were another story. One moment he infuriated her, the next she was grateful for his help. And there was no denying she was still attracted to him. But how could she stay after the way he treated her today?
“Rose, we’ll come back, I promise. We’ll drive to California and walk on the beaches there and maybe see whales and sea lions, and we’ll visit my friends and we’ll be together every minute, just like now. I know you don’t understand why I need to get away from here, but it’s not forever. We’ll visit again. I promise.”
“What about Tess? What if she dies before we get back here? What if Grampy dies?”
Shannon hugged her daughter close. “They won’t,” she said, knowing it was a promise she shouldn’t make.
“Momma, can you leave me here? Grampy and Tess need someone to take care of them.”
Shannon groaned and stood from the bed. She heard the approach of a vehicle and moved to the window, leaning her forearms on the sill. A cloud of dust marked the vehicle’s approach. It was a big fancy black truck that slowed to a stop when it reached the barn. Shannon frowned as the passenger-side door opened and Billy climbed out. He said something to the driver, then closed the truck door and started toward the cook’s cabin, walking slow and all bent over like an old man. The fancy black truck make a snappy U-turn up by the barn and headed out the ranch road. Shannon felt her heart stop when she caught a glimpse of the driver’s profile through the open window.
Travis!
She whirled from the window and bolted from the room, descending the kitchen stairs two at a time. “Billy!” she shouted as she burst out the kitchen door and raced down the porch steps. “Billy!”
He ignored her, reaching the cook’s cabin at the same time she did. She caught his arm, halting him, her blood running cold when she saw the shape he was in. He could barely stand, and Billy was a strong, tough man. “Who did this to you? Was it Travis?” He stared mutely at her for a few moments, as if trying to process her words. She turned him gently toward the ranch house. “Never mind,” she said. “You can tell me later. Come inside.”
In the kitchen she ordered Rose upstairs, but her daughter defied her. “Momma, we can’t leave now ’cause Billy needs us, too!”
Shannon filled a basin with warm water and added a squirt of iodine to it. Armed with several clean dishcloths, she sat Billy down at the table and went to work. Everything she did must have hurt, but he was stoic. Rose stood at his knee and touched him reassuringly. “Momma, don’t forget his hand. It’s all bloody.”
Sure enough, Billy’s knuckles were raw. “Looks like you got in a few licks before you lost the battle,” Shannon said grimly. The water in the basin darkened. She changed it for clean, added another dollop of antiseptic and went back to work. “Some of these cuts need stitches, and you could have a concussion, internal bruising, broken ribs. I’m taking you to the clinic, and the sheriff should be told about this.”
“He already knows,” Billy said. Those were the first words he’d spoken, so soft she barely heard them.
Shannon heard her father’s footsteps climb the porch steps. The kitchen door opened and closed. Her father came to an abrupt stop and gave Billy a steely-eyed stare. “Was Boyd Bannon behind this?”
“No,” Billy said. “It was just a stupid fight outside the Dog and Bull.”
“Daddy, I’m taking Billy to the clinic to get him checked out. Can you watch Rose?”
“Of course I will.”
“Travis brought Billy back here,” Shannon said. “Drove right up to the barn in a big fancy black pickup truck, bold as brass. He might return.”
“He won’t if he knows what’s good for him,” McTavish said.
Billy fumbled with his left hand to unbutton his shirt pocket. He pulled a folded envelope out and laid it on the table top. “Travis had nothing to do with what happened to me. He wanted me to give you this. Said it was important.”
Shannon felt her entire being recoil from the envelope. She shook her head, holding the dishcloth in her hands over the basin and wringing the bloody water from it. “I don’t want anything from Travis.” She leaned toward Billy and dabbed at the cut on his temple. “This gash needs stitches.”
“Tape will do,” Billy said.
“Stitches. Daddy, I’ll pick up something for supper at the big grocery store near the clinic and be back as soon as I can.” Shannon carried the basin of bloody water to the sink and poured it down the drain. Her hands were trembling. The kitchen was like a scene out of a war movie, her father with his arm in the cast and sling, grim faced and sinister, and the battered and bloodied Billy looking like death warmed over.
“I’ll take care of Grampy and Tess while you take Billy to the doctor, Momma,” Rose said.
Shannon felt her eyes sting with tears. “I’m sure you will, Rose.”
* * *
TWENTY-THREE STITCHES and multiple X-rays later, Shannon and Billy departed the clinic. Billy was bruised and battered but there were no internal injuries, broken bones or concussion. The doctor was stern. “Complete bed rest for at least a week.”
“I’ll see to it,” Shannon assured him. She stopped at the big grocery store to fill the prescription for painkillers the doctor had written for Billy, and to pick up supper. But as they headed for home, Billy sitting silent in the passenger seat, she wondered how successful she’d be at keeping him off his feet.
All thoughts of taking Rose and heading to California had been dashed by this latest catastrophe. There were the mustangs to gentle, and with Henry Crow Dog gone and her father and Billy out of the picture, that task would now fall completely to her. Could she pull it off before the BLM picked the horses up? Could she hire someone to help? Who? Half the town of Bear Paw now hated the McTavish clan, and the other half...? Well, she could ask Ralph and Kitty Sayres if they knew of any potential recruits.
She glanced at Billy’s profile as she hit cruising speed. “What happened, Billy?” she asked. He’d been silent on the way to the clinic, not responding to several of her attempts to find out what had been behind the fight. She hoped he might be more talkative on the pain meds. “Who picked a fight with you?”
For a long moment she thought Billy was going to ignore her again, but he made a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “I started it.”
“You? Why? And what the hell were you doing at the Dog and Bull, today of all days? After that scene at the Grange Hall? Billy, why would you go there? That’s just asking for trouble.”
“Boyd Bannon wanted me to meet him there, said he needed me to deliver a message to McTavish.”
“Boyd Bannon’s behind this? I’ve known him and his family all my life. What was the message?”
“Boyd had nothing to do with the fight. He wanted to tell me that he wouldn’t press charges against McTavish for pulling the met tower down on his land if your father signed the lease agreements with the wind company.”
Shannon’s laugh was abrupt and incredulous. “Daddy didn’t pull that tower down. According to my father, it’s been down for months. So if it wasn’t Boyd, who were you fighting with in the parking lot?”
“Doesn’t matter, Shannon. Doesn’t matter how it started or what was behind it. Travis saw it. He broke it up.”
“Travis?” Shannon’s grip tightened on the wheel. “So that’s why he brought you back to the ranch.”
“I couldn’t drive my truck. Someone gave it another flat tire while I was in the bar.”
“Does that ‘someone’ have anything to do with you picking that fight?”
“There were three or four someones.”
“And na
turally you thought you could whip them all.” Shannon blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m grateful he brought you back to the ranch, but Travis better not come back.”
“He won’t. That envelope he gave me has money for you and Rose.”
“He thinks a little money can ease his conscience?”
“He told me he sold the house and some other stuff. He said it was a lot of money, and he wanted you to have it because it was yours. He said he didn’t want to make any more trouble for you.”
Shannon drove in silence, thinking. She was glad her hands were wrapped around the steering wheel. “The last two years with Travis were awful,” she finally said, speaking quietly in a voice that shook. “He wasn’t just drinking. He was into drugs. I don’t even know what kind. His mood swings were unpredictable. Rose was scared to death of him, and so was I.”
“It’s over now, Shannon. You don’t have to live like that anymore.”
“But he came here, don’t you see? He followed us. He could’ve wired that money. He could have had his lawyer mail a bank check. He didn’t have to come here himself. Daddy ran him off once. He knows he’s not welcome, and he knows there’s a restraining order against him.” Shannon’s heart was pounding. She was filled with a kind of paralyzing fear that Billy would never understand. “Where can we go where Travis won’t find us?”
“It doesn’t matter if he finds you here. Your father and I will protect you—always. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Despite the state he was in, Shannon believed him. And for the first time in years, she started to let her fear go.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WYOMING WINDS HAD always blown through Shannon’s world. They were as constant as the seasons. Strong and gusty in winter, steady and cool in summer. She’d watched eagles soar on their updrafts and ravens play and tumble on the turbulent currents.
Now, sitting here in this special place that she hadn’t visited in over ten years, she pressed her back against the sun-warmed ledge, drew her knees up to her chest, looked out over the valley and let the clean, cool Wyoming wind fill her soul with its wild freedom.
A Family For Rose Page 14
