Crossing Nevada

by Jeannie Watt

  * * *

  TESS YAWNED LAZILY as she crossed the kitchen to the back door. The first few nights after Zach had put the cattle on her pasture had been less than restful as the occasional bovine bellow had woken her, but she solved that by staying up late and sewing until she couldn’t see straight. And then she’d go to bed. It worked—to the point that she was oversleeping. She opened the back door, following the dogs out onto the sunny porch, the warm wood feeling good under her bare feet.

  Both dogs stopped dead at the top step.

  Tess instantly froze, a deep chill of terror running through her when, with a nerve-rattling growl, a noise Tess had never heard either dog make before, Blossom shot off the porch, her toenails raking the wood. Mac followed a split second later and Tess nearly tripped over herself in her hurry to get back into the house.

  She slammed the door, twisted the dead bolt, shot one last look out the window before racing back upstairs to get her gun...

  And then stopped.

  Blossom had thrown herself on her side and was furiously digging at the bottom of the fence with both front feet. Mac stood with his good front foot planted on the fence, balancing himself, whining and giving high sharp yips.

  Not protection mode.

  Prey mode.

  Tess pressed her fingertips to her forehead, feeling almost physically ill from fright. And here she’d thought she was getting better.

  After waiting a few seconds for her heart rate to slow, Tess let herself out the back door and forced herself to approach the fence where the dogs were digging. There had to be a rabbit or some other small animal on the other side that for some kamikaze reason had not run away at the sound of a hundred and fifty combined pounds of canine muscle and teeth.

  Tess rose up on her toes and peered over the fence. A black calf stood on the edge of her lawn, across the driveway from the pasture where he should have been. Tess lowered herself back to earth.

  She’d almost had a heart attack over a baby cow.

  “Knock it off,” she said to the dogs, who stopped digging and went down to their bellies, mistaking “off” for af, the Dutch command to lie down, giving her looks that clearly said, “Are you kidding? Do you realize what’s on the other side of this fence?”

  Yes. A baby with no mama in sight—which was probably a good thing. Cows were big and possibly dangerous.

  So what now?

  Did she try to put the calf back into the pasture? No. Because there was a group of cows down by the gate. Even if she could manage to push him along in the right direction, the second she opened the gate she did not doubt for one minute that either a) the cows would run out, or b) they would attack her for handling one of their babies. Tess had seen her share of nature documentaries and did not want to become a cow casualty.

  Leaving the dogs to snuffle along the bottom of the fence, she went into the house to find Zach’s phone number, remembering how the last time she’d called him, she’d hung up when he answered. Maybe someday she’d tell him about that. Maybe.

  “Hello?” The phone had barely rang before he answered.

  “Hi. This is Tess.” She gripped the phone tighter, still recovering from her scare. It had nothing to do with talking to Zach. “A calf is out.”

  “Just one?”

  “Yes.” Thankfully.

  “Be right over.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye and Tess put the receiver back into the old-fashioned cradle. She wanted to go to the bathroom and check her face, which was ridiculous because she knew what it looked like. Clean and makeup-free with a nasty crisscrossed scar on one side that pulled her eye down. Nothing that makeup was going to fix.

  * * *

  ZACH WAS GLAD he’d forgotten his fencing pliers on the kitchen counter and had gone back inside to get them before heading up on the mountain. Otherwise he would have missed Tess’s call. One escaped calf wasn’t that big of a deal—nine times out of ten it would have figured out how to slip back through the fence to get to its mother. But there was always the chance that mom would jump the fence or come through it if she thought her baby needed her. He was just glad that Tess had called him instead of handling it on her own. She did not strike him as a cow-savvy woman.

  Roscoe was waiting next to the porch when he exited through the back door, as was Benny. Roscoe’s ears twitched when Zach mounted, and he tossed his head as they started down the driveway.

  Zach nudged the horse forward, and Benny gave a sharp yip as they headed across the county road and down Tess’s driveway, happy to have some action at last. Zach slowed to a walk as he approached the house, thinking again how odd it looked without the barn that had stood behind the house since before he’d been born. Hell, before his father had been born.

  Zach stopped at the gate and dismounted. He shot his usual glance at the upper window, where Tess often stood watching—when she wasn’t in the lilac bushes or the lower window—but she wasn’t there. Call made. Duty done. So why did he feel vaguely disappointed?

  “Get the calf,” he told Benny, who shot off down the driveway. It didn’t take long for Benny to send the calf trotting his way and the mother cow, who’d been grazing a good distance away, to raise her head and start for her baby. Zach swung the gate open, Benny pushed the calf through and he closed it again. Moments later the calf was mothered-up and the two set off across the field.

  So did he check the fence now for the hole where the calf got out? Or later, after he was done on the mountain, dead tired and wanting nothing more than a cold beer and a shower?

  Now.

  Both for the obvious reason that he didn’t want another escape and for the less obvious reason that he was making up reasons to come back.

  He rode the perimeter of the fence starting at the gate and heading toward the county road, then turning toward the mountain. As he’d expected from where Tess had found the calf, he didn’t find the hole until he was once again approaching her house twenty minutes later. It wasn’t huge, but definitely big enough for another calf to escape. Roscoe tossed his head crankily when Zach dismounted.

  “Deal with it,” he muttered to the horse as he tightened the wires. Roscoe stamped his foot in reply.

  A few minutes later Zach dropped the pliers into his saddlebags and mounted the bay. Benny, who’d been lying on his belly in the grass, jumped to his feet ready for action.

  And action he got.

  Roscoe barely went fifty yards before Tess’s dogs leaped up from behind her fence and the horse shied violently, hitting his ribs hard against a fence post in the process. After that, Zach lost track of events.

  The next thing he knew he was sitting on his butt in the middle of the driveway and Tess’s front door was flying open.

  * * *

  “ARE YOU ALL right?” Tess skidded to a stop a few feet away from him.

  Fine. Just fine. Zach refused to meet her eyes as he stood and watched Roscoe cross the county road, heading for home. Zach cursed under his breath. He’d been okay until the horse hit the post. That had scared the shit out of the bay and after that, well...yeah.

  Zach blew out a breath and reached down to pick up his hat, which he slapped against his leg before jamming it back on his head.

  “You...want a ride home?”

  He shot Tess a look. “I’ll walk.” He brushed the dust off his butt, adjusted the leather chinks he wore over his jeans and started walking. He really didn’t have much to say to his new neighbor right now.
>
  “Don’t be embarrassed,” she called after him.

  Zach stopped. “Why on earth would I be embarrassed?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer, which made him feel like he needed to say something.

  “This doesn’t usually happen.”

  “Happened today,” she pointed out. She didn’t smile, but he could see that she wanted to, which almost made the humiliation worthwhile. Almost.

  “Yeah. Sometimes Roscoe catches me unaware.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You make it sound like he does this on purpose.”

  “He does,” Zach answered matter-of-factly. “He hates working and leaving his buddies.”

  “Well, he’s back with them now.”

  Zach smiled in spite of himself. “I imagine so.” He cocked his head. “Do you ride?”

  Her expression immediately shifted, as if he’d encroached on forbidden territory now that he was asking her questions, instead of the other way around.

  “I, uh, no...that is, once I really wanted to learn, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my stepbrother wrecked the family car and the money mom had said she’d give me for lessons went to buy another beater.”

  So she had a stepbrother. “Those things happen.”

  “Yeah.” The single word came out bitterly and the open expression was long gone, as was the moment.

  “Well, if you have any more escapees, give me a call.” He tried another smile. “But I can’t promise you a rodeo every time.”

  A polite answering smile played on Tess’s lips, but it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

  Zach, feeling the growing awkwardness between them, turned and followed his asshole horse back to the ranch.

  “Hey, Zach?” Tess called a few seconds later.

  “Yeah?” He turned to find her closer than expected. She held out a closed fist. Automatically Zach extended his hand to receive whatever it was she held.

  With a slight smile she opened her hand and pressed a dusty jackknife—the knife he’d had since he was ten—into his palm. Her hand was warm and smooth and soft...and she didn’t remove it from his immediately.

  “You lost this,” she said. Then she turned and headed back to her house.

  * * *

  THE KNOCK ON the door startled both Tess and the dogs, who’d been sleeping. The dogs leaped up and ripped across the room, but by the time they reached the door their tails were wagging. Darcy Nolan stood on the porch.

  Tess opened the door, wondering why the girl was there—a new negotiation perhaps?

  “Break any needles lately?” Darcy asked.

  Tess smiled. “No. Oddly I’ve discovered a way to keep them whole.” And she’d also discovered how to keep her seams straight. Not panicking when the machine took off seemed to be the key. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

  “Deal’s a deal,” Darcy said as she came inside.

  “We didn’t make a deal per se.”

  “No...but I don’t think you would have offered my dad the pasture if we hadn’t talked. And thanks for that, by the way.”

  Tess wasn’t going to tell the girl that her decision hadn’t been based so much on “the deal” as it had been trying to put the feeling of normality back in her life and doing the right thing. “And for not telling your dad why I offered it?”

  “Dad doesn’t like charity,” Darcy affirmed in a serious tone. “After Mom died, all these people kept dropping stuff off and Dad had to take it, because it’s rude not to.” She cast Tess a quick glance, as if she’d just realized that she’d put her foot in it.

  Zach was widowed, not divorced. She’d wondered about custody of the kids. Now she knew.

  “I don’t like charity that much myself,” Tess finally said, since Darcy was obviously waiting for a response.

  “So you can understand that if he knew I told you he needed the pasture then he’d be pretty hot about it.” Darcy shifted her weight and confessed, “But he knows now. I don’t keep much from him, even if sometimes I take my time telling him.”

  Tess had kept plenty of secrets from her mom and stepfather, but it’d been in the name of self-preservation. They didn’t need to know where she was, how she was keeping herself safe from Jared, her nasty stepbrother, and whoever else was staying at their run-down house, leering at her. Her skin crawled at the memory.

  “So you’re pretty tight, you and your dad?” she asked, trying to shake off the creeped-out feeling she always got thinking of her stepbrother.

  “He’s all I have,” Darcy said simply. “Well, other than my aunt, Beth Ann, and my sisters. Mom died three years ago of breast cancer, but I miss her a lot.”

  “I know what you mean.” Sometimes Tess remembered her mom, how she was before she’d gotten deeply into drugs and quit caring about anything other than helping Eddie keep his business afloat. Tess missed that woman—even if that woman had disappeared around the time Tess had entered grade school. What would it be like to have lost a mother that you truly loved and needed at such a young age?

  Come to think of it, in a way she had.

  “Did you have a mom?” Darcy asked, keying in on her comment.

  “Not really,” Tess muttered. She smiled a little when she said, “But I had a grandmother who I lived with until I was thirteen.”

  “Then what?”

  “I moved in with other relatives,” Tess said, vaguely realizing the story didn’t exactly match the one she’d told Zach. And three years later she had run away, eventually landing in the halfway house where she found life so much more tolerable than it’d been in her own home. Her time with “relatives” was minimal.

  “What’re you working on?” Darcy asked, moving over to the sewing table where Tess had strips of fabric pinned together.

  “I’m practicing my seaming like you told me to. Over and over and over.”

  Darcy laughed. “I know that feeling. Tia was heartless about that. I couldn’t move on until I could sew straight. But it was worth it. Now I sew really straight, which is important when you’re quilting.”

  “Who’s Tia?” Tess hated that she had to ask that question, but...well, she had to, since Tia came up in the conversation so often.

  Darcy looked surprised. “My aunt, Beth Ann.” She smiled. “A lot of us Basque call their aunts Tia.”

  “You’re Basque?”

  “Only a quarter,” Darcy admitted. “My grandma is Basque. My grandpa isn’t. But that’s enough to belong to the Basque club.”

  “Good for you,” Tess said. She liked talking to this kid. “On your way to quilt club now?” she said, pointing at the girl’s tote bag.

  The girl shook her head. “Coming back. We’re making a quilt to raffle off at the Father’s Day picnic. It’s a pretty good moneymaker for us.”

  “What do you use the money for?”

  Darcy shrugged. “We donate it to the community. They put it in a pot for whenever someone needs help. Things happen,” she said matter-of-factly. “Kind of like your barn burning down.”

  “Right,” Tess said. “So you’re just here for a visit?”

  Darcy looked surprised. “No. We made a deal and I’m here to see if you need any help sewing.”

  “Darcy...there really isn’t a deal. I offered the pasture because it was the right thing to do.”

  “And you’ll let us use the creek path for the same reason?” she
asked.

  Tess cocked her head. “What kind of grades do you get?”

  “Straight As.”

  “No doubt.” Tess folded her arms over her chest. “I do have a few questions about some sewing issues, but I still want an okay from your dad. Just so there’s no misunderstanding about where you are or why.” Because she didn’t want to ruin their tenuously friendly relationship...no matter how many times she told herself she should leave things alone.

  “I’ll get a note from Dad,” Darcy said wearily. “Then maybe we could stop by on our way home from school.”

  “Meaning you and your sisters?” When Darcy nodded, Tess said, “Even the little one?”

  “Lizzie? She’ll come round.” Darcy squinted at Tess’s scars. “Maybe you could tell her the real way you got hurt.”

  Tess shook her head. “That would be even more upsetting.” The wrong thing to say because it was obvious from the way Darcy perked up that she’d piqued her interest.

  “And you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Not one bit.”

  “Dad says it was probably a car wreck.” Darcy waited for either a yay or nay, but Tess disappointed her. “All right,” she said, correctly realizing Tess wasn’t going to talk about it. “Emma and I have already told Lizzie not to ask if she sees you again, but if she does, don’t say anything that scares her again, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thanks.” Darcy opened the door before pausing and looking back over her shoulder. “They really don’t look that bad. The scars, I mean.”

  Yes, they did, and both of them knew it, but Tess was touched by Darcy’s white lie.

  “Good to know. Thanks.”

  Darcy smiled and walked out onto the porch. “See ya,” she said before bouncing down the stairs to the sidewalk.

  Tess shut the door, then went to the window and leaned her shoulder against the wall, watching the girl walk down the long driveway.

  Don’t let yourself get too drawn into this. You can’t tell the truth about yourself. You may have to pull up stakes and move tomorrow. Do not allow yourself to get connected.