by Harper Allen
“A few weeks later the owner of the diner where I worked was helping me take the garbage to the bins in the alleyway behind the building.”
The out-of-place heat that had momentarily flared in her died as the memory replayed itself in her mind. “Mr. Stephanopoulos had been so good to me, contributing toward the costs of the funeral, going to the police station with me to check on the progress of the investigation, giving me time off with pay. He—he was the first person I told when I found out I was pregnant with Danny,” she said softly. “He said a baby was always cause for celebration, no matter what the circumstances.”
“What happened in the alleyway?” Tye’s prompting was gentle. The darkness in his eyes told Susannah he knew what she was about to say.
“A car slowed down on the street. I didn’t think anything of it—sometimes people thought there might be parking round back, and they drove by slowly checking for a space. The next minute I heard gunfire and saw flashes coming from the car before it sped off, and when I looked over at Mr. Stephanopoulos he was holding his chest. He was dead before he fell, Tye.”
For nine long months she’d tried to stay strong for the baby growing inside her. Fear had been a luxury she couldn’t afford, any more than she could afford the luxury of breaking down in tears whenever the tension and the memories got to be too much. Bird stock was tough stock, Granny Lacey had often said—not always law-abiding stock, not always with the most book-learning, but tough enough to take what life threw at it and survive.
I have survived and I did stay strong, Susannah told herself as the lump in her throat swelled to almost painful proportions. I’m going to have to continue being strong, because this isn’t over yet. But aside from Frank and Mr. Stephanopoulos, tonight they cut down Greta and nearly got my son, so just for a few minutes I believe I’m going to let myself…let myself—
“Go ahead and cry, Suze.” His hands slid from her shoulders to her neck, and then framed her face. Although there was no humor in them the corners of his mouth softened. “The shirt’s old, and salt washes out. Go ahead and cry, and then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do.”
“But Tye, what do they want with me? Why did they follow me here to the one place I thought I’d be safe?”
She saw his gaze darken with confusion, but before she could elaborate she felt the first tears spill, fat and hot, over her bottom lashes. She opened her mouth to explain, but just then the lump in her throat burst and the pain came rushing out as he pulled her to his chest.
“There was so much blood—so much blood. It was all over the white sheets and all I could think of was that the hotel laundry was just never going to get it out. Isn’t that terrible? My husband was lying there dead, and I was wondering if cold water would do the trick. Whatever he’d done, he didn’t deserve what happened to him—no more than Mr. Stephanopoulos deserved to die in a filthy alleyway, no more than Greta should have been punished for taking me in. I don’t know who they are or what they want, but they must be monsters, Tye, pure evil.”
Her words were a whispered gasp against his wet shirt. “That’s what I felt by the side of the highway after you’d left to get help. I even thought I saw him—saw him out of the corner of my eye, as if a mirage was trying to take shape. The sun was turning everything into mirrors and reflections and it was getting hotter and hotter…and I thought I saw the sand coming together in the desert. I knew it was pure evil and I knew it wanted me and my baby. Then Greta drove up. When I looked again it had disappeared.”
His hold around her had tightened. Now, with infinite care he gently uncurled her clenched fists from his shirt and held her just far enough away from him that he could look into her face. His features seemed carved.
“You didn’t tell me this before.”
She shook her head. “Because afterward when I thought about it I told myself I’d probably imagined the whole thing. But I can’t completely shake the feeling that just for those few minutes the same evil that had left its mark in the hotel room where my husband was killed was closer to me and Danny than it had ever been.”
She took a long, shuddering breath. Bringing the heels of her hands to her face, she smeared aside the tears that were obscuring her vision and met his gaze. Her own slowly widened as she took in his expression.
“This means something to you, doesn’t it, Tye? I thought you’d tell me it couldn’t have been for real—but you know what it was I saw, don’t you? You don’t think I imagined it at all.”
“I told you I don’t believe in much of anything, Suze.” His tone was rough, his jaw tight. “I certainly don’t believe in the Skinwalk—”
Abruptly he broke off, his whole body tensing. The next moment he’d thrust her from him and was striding toward the door. “Someone’s arrived,” he said sharply. “Johnson and Bradley have been taking turns camping out by the main gate these past few nights, so either one of them let someone through or—”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but instead reached above the lintel and took down a heavy, old-fashioned key. He inserted it into the lock of a narrow cabinet she hadn’t noticed before, built into the wall beside the door. Swinging open the door and reaching in, he withdrew a pump-action shotgun, its blued-steel barrel gleaming as if it had recently been oiled.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said tightly, pulling out a box of shells and one-handedly opening it. He scooped up a handful and spilled five out onto the counter before inserting the one he was still holding into the weapon’s magazine. He reached for a second shell and glanced over at her. “And it might not necessarily be our friends from Greta’s, come back for another try at you, Susannah. The Double B’s had troubles of its own these past few weeks, which is why Del asked me here in the first place. I’ll fill you in on the details later, but right now I think it’s best if you stay in the bedroom with Danny while I—”
“Hand me out the Winchester that was behind the shotgun, Tye, and that box of thirty-ought-six rifle ammo I can see on the shelf above it.”
He was chambering the sixth and final shell into his own weapon, Susannah saw. Without waiting for him to comply with her request she reached past him, grasping the gun and the box of cartridges. He shot her a disbelieving look.
“Put that down, Suze. I can’t be worrying about you fooling around with a loaded weapon while I’m checking this situation—”
“Then don’t worry.” Efficiently she began loading the rifle, glancing up at him in time to see his startled frown. “Most of the places I grew up in were rural areas,” she said briefly. “Granny Lacey was a country woman, too, and she didn’t hold with women not knowing which end of a gun the bullet came out of.”
Her task finished, she faced him. “I’ll stay on the porch, Tye,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “But a few minutes ago I was crying like a little pigtailed girl afraid of the dark, and somehow that doesn’t sit real well with me. I’m a mama with a baby to protect, and since running hasn’t worked I figure it’s time to turn and take a stand.”
Slowly he nodded, his eyes on hers. “Point taken. But if I see Kevin Bradley or Paul Johnson, I’m going to send them along to keep you company. I’m damn glad now I introduced you to them when we arrived, so you’ll recognize them.” He turned to the door leading onto the porch, and then hesitated. “You’re certain you know how to handle that thing?”
“Likely better’n you, California boy,” she said, forcing a shaky smile to her lips. “Tye—be careful.”
“You, too.” His voice was husky with tension and under the denim-blue shirt his shoulders were stiff. His answering smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You, too, Suze,” he repeated quietly as he pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the wide verandah, Susannah close behind.
Whenever she afterward thought about the five minutes that followed, in her memory they stretched out like thirty, and thirty agonizingly slow-moving minutes at that. The ranch gate was a good half mile away from the main house and the barns, an
d the sound that had alerted him, Tye had told her in an undertone just before he melted into the darkened yard, had been the sudden barking, just as suddenly silenced, of Shep, Del’s heeler hound that usually accompanied Johnson or Bradley on their recently instigated night-time vigils. Rifle at the ready and her heart in her mouth, Susannah kept to the most shadowed area of the porch, waiting either for some sign that Shep’s alarm had been a false one or for—
—for the moment when I have to make the decision whether to blow a man to kingdom come or not, she thought, swallowing dryly. If it comes to that, Lord, I pray I make the right choice, and if the right choice means I take the shot to keep my baby from harm, I pray You give me a steady trigger finger and good aim.
She wished she knew what Tye had meant when he’d said the Double B had been experiencing its own troubles, she thought worriedly. But whatever those troubles were, Del had deemed them serious enough to have his hired hands stand guard and Tye himself had taken a weapon to confront the intruder. If this had nothing to do with those who had been hunting her, it still was a situation that called for an armed response.
Even as the thought went through her mind a muffled sound seemed to come from the direction of the horse barn a few hundred feet away. She whirled to face the bulky silhouette of the outbuilding where Del’s beloved Appaloosas, as Tye had informed her, were stabled.
“Susannah!”
Headlights crested the rise in the drive leading to the ranch’s perimeter, and Tye’s shout, coming as it did from the open utility vehicle and holding no note of warning, sent a rush of relief flooding through her. Temporarily blinded by the vehicle’s beams, Susannah shielded her eyes with one hand just in time to see him alight from it as it came to a stop.
The two other occupants in the utility got out as Tye strode across the yard toward her, his grin illuminated by the headlights. One she recognized as Johnson, but the driver, a scruffily dressed man of medium height now hoisting a duffel bag from the back seat, was unfamiliar to her.
“False alarm,” Tye said as he mounted the steps to the porch.
Taking her rifle from her, carefully he broke it open and extracted the ammunition before snapping the stock back in place and setting the unloaded weapon by the door with his own.
“I met up with Johnson on my way to the boundary fence,” he went on, nodding at the taller and gaunter of the two men. “We got there just as Bradley was about to give this no-good bum his walking papers and it took all my powers of persuasion to convince him that our after-hours visitor was who he said he was. Susannah, I’d like you to meet Jess Crawford—another Double B bad boy and, despite his disreputable appearance right now, the only one of Del’s former delinquents who’s achieved millionaire status by purely legitimate means.”
“Don’t listen to him, Susannah.” Dropping the duffel bag at his feet, the man Tye had just introduced took a step forward, his pleasant features breaking into a smile. “Even when we were teenagers he tried to slander me with the girls just so he’d have a fighting chance. I apologize for my late arrival and the way I look, but I’ve been driving all night to—”
“Adams—look!”
The urgent exclamation came from Paul Johnson. A few feet from the utility vehicle, he was standing stock-still, and something about the rigidity of his frame sent Susannah’s nerve-endings on the alert. His next words confirmed her fears.
“The horse barn! It’s on fire!”
Chapter Five
“Danny!” Susannah spun fearfully around, her hand already reaching for the handle of the screen door, but before she could yank it open Tye was gripping her shoulder.
“Wait with Danny in Jess’s utility. If the blaze looks like it’s going to get away from us, drive off and don’t stop until you get to town. Understood?”
She nodded, her fingers tightening almost painfully on the door handle. “I understand. But Tye—I think someone started the fire. Whoever he is, I think he’s still in the barn.”
“An arsonist?” Behind Tye, Jess looked grim. “If this is the kind of thing Del was talking about, it seems I showed up just in time. I’ll go around back and switch on the reservoir pump.”
“Good man.” Tye’s smile flashed briefly white in the shadows. “While you and Johnson are dragging the hose over I’ll start getting the horses to safety. Suze, remember what I said—don’t worry about us, just make sure Dan the Man’s safe. Go on, honey.”
As she sped through the door he was holding open for her Susannah caught the quick appraising glance Jess threw in her direction. Their eyes met and he gave her a comprehending grin before turning away.
She raced through the kitchen to the spare bedroom, her anxiety overlaid with confusion. It was obvious that Tye’s old friend had taken Tye’s casual endearment to her for something much more meaningful, but although his mistake was harmless, it would be dangerous for her to make the same erroneous assumption.
“The man’s got a silver tongue, starshine, so him calling me honey all the time doesn’t mean anything,” she breathed as she gently lifted a yawning Danny from his makeshift crib. His fingers bunching into tiny fists, sleepily he knuckled at his eyes. She felt her breast swell with a rush of love so strong tears pricked at the back of her eyes. To cover her emotion she fixed a mock-stern look on her small son as she hastened from the room.
“I won’t have you turning out the same way, young man,” she remonstrated. “You’re going to be a natural-born heartbreaker as it is. I’ll have to teach you not to take a leaf from your namesake’s book and be so free and easy when you’re talking to gullible females like your mama—”
Her nervous flow of words dried up as she pushed open the screen door and stepped once more onto the porch. In scant seconds everything had changed.
The wisps of smoke that had caught Johnson’s attention were now thick and greasy billows of gray pouring from the open barn doors, backlit with ruddy tongues of flame, and the screams of terrified horses added to the nightmarish quality of the scene. Even as she hesitated, Susannah saw Tye emerge from the inferno, fighting to hold on to the bridles of two plunging mares.
As soon as he was clear of the barn doors he released his grip on the fear-maddened Appaloosas. One immediately wheeled and tried to return to the barn, but Tye seemed to have been expecting something of the sort and he herded the mare off into the yard before turning back to the stables.
“Miz Barrett!”
It was Johnson, his back bowed under the weight of the heavy woven-cord hose he was hauling around the side of the house. A little behind him Susannah saw Jess Crawford hastily affixing a coupler between the hose and a portable pump.
“Miz Barrett, you heard the man. You get that little tyke into the vehicle now, hear? A fire’s like a scalded cat—you never know which way it’ll jump.” Despite his admonishing words, his tone wasn’t unfriendly and his gaunt features showed only concern. Susannah nodded.
“I’m gettin’, Mr. Johnson,” she said swiftly. “You be careful, too.”
Their hurried exchange galvanized her into action. Leaving the porch she ran across the yard to the utility, Danny clasped closely to her. Only when she actually opened the vehicle’s passenger door did she realize she had a problem, and a significant one.
When she and Tye had left Greta’s earlier he’d transferred Danny’s infant seat from the red four-by-four to Del’s extended-size truck—the truck that was parked, Susannah saw with a sinking heart, only feet from the side of the horse barn.
“If we have to leave in a hurry I can’t risk driving off with you not secured, little one,” she murmured to Danny. “I won’t risk it. I’m going to have to get that infant seat. You wait here for your mama, little man.”
She didn’t want to leave him, she thought worriedly as she laid Danny on the wide back seat of the utility, but it was the only option she had. When they’d arrived at the ranch two hours ago, she’d seen Tye carelessly pocket the keys of Del’s truck as he’d helped her transfer Da
nny into his carry-cot before entering the house, and since now wasn’t a good time to tap him on the shoulder and ask him to hand them over to her, taking the bigger vehicle was out of the question. But he hadn’t locked the truck’s doors, she was sure, which meant she should be able to remove the infant seat easily enough and get it to the vehicle that was available to her.
Hastening across the yard, in the light from the now-blazing fire she saw Kevin Bradley, the Double B’s other hired hand, exiting the barn with a rearing gelding. Obviously the fire had been visible to him where he’d been standing guard at the ranch’s perimeter and he’d left his post to help out in the emergency. The animal’s hooves flashed down perilously near Bradley’s head, and with a shouted oath he released his grip. Suddenly unconstrained, the Appaloosa pounded by only yards from her and disappeared into the darkness.
“Susannah!” Jess, his face streaked with soot, was beside her. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to where Johnson was aiming the now-operational hose into the building, and then turned his attention back to her. “What are you doing here? Where’s your son?”
“I need to get the infant seat from Del’s truck,” she said, and knew from his uncomprehending frown that he hadn’t heard her over the mingled tumult of the fire and the horses. She tried again. “Del’s truck,” she shouted. “Danny’s car seat—”
The rest of her sentence was obliterated by a sound even more terrible than the equine terror that had been filling her ears for the past few minutes. It was the sound of a human being in unimaginable agony, and at it, the blood in Susannah’s veins seemed to turn to ice.
“Jess—where’s Tye?”
Even as she rasped the urgent question past numb lips she saw him coming again from the barn, leading a frightened mare and a stumbling foal to safety. As he did, the stream of water Johnson had been playing on the worst of the fire seemed to have an effect, and with a malignant hiss the main part of the blaze subsided.
