Montana Sheriff

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Montana Sheriff Page 11

by Marie Ferrarella


  He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. As a young man, Amos had been a soldier sent overseas. He’d faced death for his country. As a struggling rancher and family man, he’d been forced to face the death of his wife and deal with that. It had been painful going and he’d all but lost himself to the bottle for a couple of years back then. Eventually, he’d come out the other end and triumphed.

  But facing the death of a child was something he wasn’t sure that he would ever be prepared to face.

  “Out of the coma, yes,” Ronnie cried, ending the sentence for him with far different words than Amos had anticipated.

  Cole had come in directly behind her and now Cole’s mother and Christopher had come into the room, as well. But it was to Cole that Amos looked for confirmation of his daughter’s words.

  “Is this true, boy?”

  Cole nodded. He didn’t bother correcting the older man on any count, neither pointing out that it had been years since he’d been a boy and that he was, after all, the sheriff of the town and as such deserved to be addressed by his title. At the very least, he shouldn’t have to respond to being referred to as a “boy.”

  “Wayne complained about your daughter’s talking too much,” he told the older man.

  The relief that came over Amos’s gaunt face was nothing short of astounding. Right before Ronnie’s eyes, the old man seemed to shed two decades.

  “I always thought she would talk someone to death.” Amos chuckled, glancing toward his daughter. “Not the other way around.”

  Because she knew it pleased her father to kid around this way, Ronnie played along.

  “Very funny, Dad,” she sniffed. “But all that really matters is that he’s finally, finally awake.” And then she filled her father in on the details. At the end, she said, “The doctor wants to watch Wayne for a few more days, so for now Wayne’s going to have to stay at the hospital but he’ll be coming home before you know it,” she promised her father.

  “And then Uncle Wayne’ll give me horseback rides?” Christopher asked eagerly.

  She laughed and ruffled her son’s silken hair. “Not right away, but yes, in a while, I’m sure he will. You just have to let him get better first.”

  Cole didn’t think the boy meant the term the way he was familiar with it. “Horseback rides?” he asked Ronnie quizzically.

  “They’re actually piggyback rides,” she explained, lowering her voice in deference to her son’s feelings, “but Christopher really has this aversion to pigs, so he calls them horseback rides.”

  Nodding, Cole looked down at the boy. “Would you like a horseback ride right now?” he asked.

  The blond head bobbed up and down enthusiastically, stray strands of his flaxen-colored hair moving independently.

  “You can do that?” he asked, barely able to contain his abundant energy.

  Cole got down on one knee, his back toward the boy. He held his hands up shoulder-level, ready to receive the much smaller ones in them.

  “Well, why don’t we see?” he suggested. “You get on my back and give me your hands,” he instructed.

  “My mom always helps,” Christopher told him.

  “That’s nice that you let her,” Cole commented, guessing that was where this was going. “Moms like to feel helpful.”

  “Yes, we do,” Ronnie agreed, amused, as she helped get her son properly seated on Cole’s back. Stepping to the side, she said to Cole, “Okay, Trigger, you’re good to go.” She punctuated her assessment with a swat to his butt to launch him on his way.

  As Cole gave her son—their son, she amended in her mind—a ride, Ronnie watched. And the lump in her throat that had materialized earlier in the day grew in direct correlation to the smile on her lips.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dr. Nichols, Wayne’s attending physician, called Ronnie a couple of days later. Her heart all but stopped when she heard the man’s gravelly voice on the other end of the line. Up until this point, Wayne had been due to be released tomorrow. Her gut told her this couldn’t be good.

  “Is something wrong, Dr. Nichols?”

  “No,” the man on the other end of the line was quick to reassure her, “but I just wanted to let you know that I’ve decided to keep your brother here a little longer than we first discussed.”

  What wasn’t he telling her?

  “Why?” she asked, the single word rising out of a suddenly parched throat. Had the last CAT scan shown something the doctor had missed seeing earlier? All sorts of possibilities appeared, her mind hopping from one thing to another.

  “Because like all the men working on ranches around here, the second I release him to go home, he’s going to start trying to catch up. I’m well acquainted with his type. They all think they’re invincible. I just want to give Wayne a little more time for his body to make that a reality.”

  Wayne wasn’t going to be happy about this. “What are you going to tell him?” she asked.

  “That I want to run a few more tests to make sure that there’s no further internal damage that we might have overlooked.”

  She supposed that sounded plausible enough. Especially since he’d mentioned the other day that he was thinking of ordering more tests for Wayne—just to be certain all was well.

  Ronnie thanked the doctor for calling and then replaced the receiver in its cradle.

  A sigh escaped her lips. She would have to call the administrative assistant at her firm and request an extension for her leave of absence. Though she really didn’t want to be away from work for such a long period of time, there was no way around it. Besides, the doctor was right. Wayne would have to remain where he was for a few more days. If he was released too early, the chances were fairly good that he’d wind up having to go back to the hospital because he’d pushed himself and done too much too fast—before he was ready.

  They were cut from the same cloth, her brother and she, and Ronnie knew exactly what drove him, what Wayne was capable of. In order to make sure he didn’t overdo anything, he had to be kept in the hospital, waiting for the doctor’s release.

  And she had to keep to this overwhelming schedule just a little longer.

  That included somehow finding the time to go look in on her brother at the hospital. She was well aware that part of healing was having a feeling of well-being. You couldn’t exactly have that when no one visited and you felt as if you were being abandoned.

  She knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay as long as she would have liked, but something was better than nothing.

  Besides, Wayne would understand. The trick would be to keep him from feeling guilty about it. They were officially two men down and there was no extra money to hire anyone until Wayne was ready to take over again. Money was better spent getting feed for the horses and paying off a startlingly large vet bill.

  Not that the vet was really a problem. Dr. Starling was a very patient man, but a sense of pride was involved here and she wanted to make sure that her father owed no one. Things would get better once the twelve quarter horses her father had arranged to be sold to Bart Walker, a cattle rancher located a hundred miles to the south of Redemption, were delivered. That was in approximately three weeks. The payment coming from that sale would be readily applied to the mortgage on the ranch. Her father had been forced to refinance four years ago after a bout of cholera had taken out half his herd and set him back worse than he could have ever predicted.

  Glancing at her watch, Ronnie decided she could squeeze in a quick visit to her brother if she left right now. She went to find Midge to let her know she was leaving. Cole’s mother had become part of the family these days, a development that had contributed a great deal to her father’s infinitely improved spirits.

  RONNIE HEARD LAUGHTER COMING out of her brother’s room a second before she opened the door. Wayne had been transferred—finally—from the demoralizing ICU cubicle with its grating metallic sounds and placed in a semiprivate room yesterday. The other bed had been empty, but she assumed from th
e laughter that someone was now occupying it.

  When she walked in, she saw that the other bed, located closer to the door, was still empty. The laughter she’d heard was coming from the four people gathered around Wayne’s bed. Female people. Wayne, apparently, was holding court. Ronnie recognized all four women. They were all from Redemption.

  For a moment, no one realized that she was even in the room. And then Wayne saw her. He gave her a wide, toothy grin. “Hi, Ronnie.”

  “Hi yourself.” Relieved, Ronnie smiled. There were still a few bruises, but they were fading and Wayne was looking more like his former robust self. She shook her head. “And here I was afraid that you were lying here, lonely, pining away for some company. I guess I’ve been gone from Redemption too long,” she commented. “I forgot that you never lacked for female companionship when we were in school.” She nodded her head at each one of Wayne’s visitors. “Cheryl, Dorothy, Lori, Annie.” She acknowledged each woman in turn warmly. “Nice to see you ladies all here.”

  This was the best thing in the world for Wayne, Ronnie thought. Attention from the fairer sex was bound to lift his spirits. He was a far cry from the patient she saw lying downstairs in the ICU almost two weeks ago.

  Ronnie stayed for a very brief visit, part of which was spent talking to Dr. Nichols for a more complete update. Satisfied that her presence wasn’t needed, Ronnie gently made her way to the head of her brother’s bed and told him, “I’m going to be heading back.”

  “But you just got here,” Cheryl protested. She exchanged looks with the other women, all of whom looked a tad guilty.

  “Our being here isn’t chasing you away, is it?” Annie asked.

  Ronnie laughed. “Just the opposite,” she assured them. “Your being here is a godsend. It means I won’t have to worry about Wayne wasting away here. Trust me, seeing you ladies is the best medicine my big brother could have.” She paused to kiss her brother’s cheek. “Boy, the lengths you’ll go to just to get a little attention. It really boggles the mind,” she teased.

  For a moment, Wayne looked serious. “You know you don’t have to go.”

  She knew he meant it, but she really did have reason to get back to the ranch. “Yes, I do. I’ve got twelve quarter horses to get ready for delivery, whole sections of fence that still need mending and right now, I’m still two men short.”

  Wayne grinned weakly. It was obvious to her that her brother still had a ways to go before he was completely back to normal. “Not with you on the job.”

  She nodded her approval. “Good answer. See you, big brother.” Surrendering her space, Ronnie looked at the other women around her brother’s bed. “Take good care of him.”

  And with that, she hurried out of Wayne’s room as quickly as she had hurried into it less than twenty minutes ago.

  THE TRIP BACK TO THE RANCH WAS monotonous, but quick. With terrain so flat that it enabled her to see an approaching vehicle from miles away, she was relieved of the added pressure of watching for any law enforcement officer with too much time on his hands and a virgin ticket book on the seat next to him.

  She made it back to the outskirts of Redemption in record time. Since she’d gotten everything she needed to get right to work after her visit and had put it in the back of the Jeep, there was no need for her to stop off at the house. Instead, she drove up toward where she’d seen the decaying section of fence the other day.

  In its present state, that section was a problem waiting to happen. Horses had an uncanny knack of being able to find the one section that would offer them the least amount of resistance and then break out. After all the trouble that had gone into raising, feeding and training these horses, she was not about to take a chance on losing any of them because no one had gotten around to fixing several yards of rotting boards.

  It looked like she’d been concerned for nothing, Ronnie thought as she drove closer. From a distance she spotted a lone figure doing exactly what she’d intended on doing. One of the ranch hands had obviously taken it upon himself to fix the fence. Whoever it was had stripped down to the waist and his shirt was hanging down from about the waistband of his jeans. No wonder. The day had turned out to be unseasonably warm and, worse, humid.

  She could see sweat glistening along the ranch hand’s muscular back as she drove closer. She couldn’t recall any of the men who were left on the ranch being built that well—

  Because they weren’t, she realized as the man, obviously hearing the car approach, turned around from the fence.

  Cole returned her stare with a lazy smile curving his mouth. Good though his back view was, the view from the front was astonishingly superior to it. A layer of perspiration glistened along his bare chest. His abdominal muscles appeared to have been chiseled out of rock.

  He’d always been handsome, but for the life of her, she didn’t remember his chest looking so damn good, Ronnie thought.

  The inside of her mouth had turned to cotton, making it exceedingly difficult to form any audible words. She took a second to pull herself together. A second during which Cole seemed to be enjoying himself.

  It was as if he could read her every thought. She did her best to look disinterested. It was damn near impossible.

  “You’re back early,” he commented when she drew close enough to hear him.

  Ronnie pulled up almost next to him and got out. “Early?” she echoed. “In comparison to what?”

  How did he know when she was supposed to get back? How did he even know she’d been gone? Wasn’t the man supposed to be in town, sheriffing?

  “Your dad told me you were going to visit Wayne in the hospital.” Stripping off his gloves, Cole reached for the bottle of water he had on the ground beside the fence and then paused as he took a very long gulp of water.

  Ronnie could feel her throat tightening just watching him drink.

  “Can I have some of that?” she asked, hating that she had to. Knowing if she didn’t, she’d wind up croaking out her words like some octogenarian on her last legs.

  “Sure.” He held out the bottle to her as he wiped his forehead with the back of his other hand.

  Ronnie found that she not only had to remind herself to breathe, she also had to struggle to draw her eyes away from his incredibly appealing upper torso. The latter was far from easy.

  Addressing the air just past Cole’s left ear, she murmured, “Thank you.” Taking the water bottle from him, she quickly started drinking.

  “Hey, careful,” he cautioned her. “I don’t want you drowning on me.” Cole said it with such a straight face that for a moment she thought he was serious. Until she saw the grin. “I know you’ve been away in the big city all these years and forgot a lot of stuff about living out here, but you really shouldn’t be driving around without bringing along some water,” he told her. “You break down here, it’s gonna be a while before someone comes along to help you out. On a hot day like today, that could really be murder. I really wouldn’t want to come across you all shriveled up inside your car.”

  The need to argue was all but acute. Still, she forced the urge back. Cole was right in what he was saying. She just didn’t like being reminded of that, or treated like some damn brainless tourist who didn’t have sense enough to come in out of the rain. Or the unexpected hot sun.

  “Guess I just got out of the survival mode habit,” she said with a careless shrug meant to terminate the conversation.

  It didn’t.

  “Out here that could be dangerous,” Cole told her seriously. This time there was no smile at the end of the sentence.

  She really hated being lectured. “You made your point,” she bit off, then reined herself in for a second time. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” she asked. “I mean, besides sweating.”

  And looking good enough to eat, she couldn’t help adding silently. Was he always going to have this effect on her? Was her stomach always going to tighten like a drying piece of leather? Didn’t people eventually get over feeling like that abo
ut someone? So then why wasn’t she?

  “I decided to take today off,” he told her. He went back to working a rotting board loose so he could replace it. “I left Tim in charge and I’m around if something happens he can’t handle. But I needed some time off and Tim needed to find out that he can take care of things on his own.” He paused, spreading his hands wide. “See, a win-win situation.”

  Not from where she stood. From that position, she was swiftly losing ground—and control over her thoughts.

  “Very altruistic of you,” she commented with more than a touch of sarcasm. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing out here—” she gestured at a length of fence “—working. Most people don’t opt to engage in this kind of tedious physical labor on their day off. They do fun things.”

  “What makes you think I’m not having fun?” he asked, amused. For a moment, his mouth quirked, and then he became serious again. “I figured you were at least one man down, what with Wayne being in the hospital and your dad still just getting the full use of his legs back. So I thought I’d give you a hand.” A hammer in his right hand, he pried the board loose and then looked at her significantly. “In case you’ve forgotten, that’s what friends are for.”

  Needing something to do with her hands, Ronnie had started unloading the lengths of wood she’d brought out of the back of her father’s Jeep.

  Before she realized his intentions, Ronnie found Cole beside her. Elbowing her out of the way, he took out the rest of the boards. She pulled on her gloves and picked up a hammer and a box of nails.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” she answered. She looked up at him. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. Most of all, I’m grateful that you were the one who was first on the scene because you saved them.”

  “Anyone would have done the same thing,” he reminded her.

  Ronnie shook her head. “I’m not that sure. Stop being so damn modest,” she ordered. “But the bottom line is that I’m here now and I can take over. You can go home and use the rest of your day off to do something that you want to do.”

 

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