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The morning sun erupted over the eastern ridge in brilliant glory, bringing with it the promise of clear skies and warmer temperatures. Bethany stretched and made her way to the cookhouse. Today would be a good one. She could feel it.
Ed had been crowing off and on for a good hour, and Bethany couldn’t help remembering how the old bird had attacked Evan Parker’s shoes. She smiled at the mental picture of the prancing man trying to get away. She shook her head. “Shame on me for taking pleasure in someone else’s distress.”
She’d been raised a Christian and had attended church until age twelve, when her mother died, but after that her father had rarely taken her. He missed his wife and buried his sorrows in work. She thought of the small community church she sometimes attended in Denver. The people were friendly enough, but she hadn’t been able to find what she needed to fill the emptiness inside her. She stared at the trio of peaks glistening in the morning light. Why was it she felt closer to God when she was outside and away from town and church?
The door to the cookhouse squeaked as she pulled it open. Jenny, always an early riser, was hard at work browning a mess of bacon and sausage. The scent of the meat and biscuits baking filled the room and made Bethany’s stomach grumble. She snitched a slice of cooked bacon. “How are things going? What can I do to help?”
“Fine, and you can fill that other baking sheet with biscuits. The ones in the oven are about done.”
Bethany did as ordered. She might be the boss’s daughter, but out here each person had a job she or he was responsible for, and she didn’t mind helping the others. They’d help her if she needed it.
“Are the city slickers stirring yet?” Jenny tucked her spatula under several rows of bacon and laid them in a serving pan layered on the bottom with paper towels.
“Some. They’ve hardly done anything and are already tuckered out.”
“Must be the fresh mountain air getting to them.” The women shared a chuckle.
Bethany removed the golden biscuits from the oven and placed them on the counter then slid the uncooked batch in. She stacked the hot biscuits in a large, rectangular pan and set it on the warming tray.
“Just wait until next week. I’ll have to serve breakfast a whole hour later because they’ll be so pooped out.” Jenny chuckled, and Bethany shook her head. It was an ongoing joke, though the cook always stuck rigidly to the meal schedule.
Jenny shoveled the remaining sausage links into the stainless steel serving dish then dumped the bacon at the other end of the rectangular pan and set it in the warming tray. “I just need to pour the gravy into the serving pan and scramble another batch of eggs. You want to ring the bell?”
“Sure. Everything looks great. Can’t wait to eat.” Bethany went outside the cookhouse and unlatched the upper half of the wooden wall on one side of the building. With the wall down, their guests could walk right up to the buffet and serve themselves. She tugged a stack of plates closer to the edge so they’d be within easy reach and then checked the silverware and napkins.
“I guess you’re eager to see that good-looking greenhorn again.” Jenny glanced up from her cooking eggs and sent Bethany a teasing glance.
Evan Parker invaded her mind, and her heart flip-flopped. She glanced over to where his batteries were still charging then peeked back at the cook. “Which greenhorn are you referring to? There are several nice-looking men on this trip.”
Jenny grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Did I say it was a man?”
Bethany opened her mouth to respond then closed it. “Uh. . .no, I just assumed that’s what you meant.”
“Well. . .for the record, he is cute, even if he is a bit technically minded.”
Bethany resisted commenting because it would only stir up Jenny to teasing her more. How had the cook noticed her interest in the computer geek? Other than when he first came to the cookhouse to ask about charging his batteries, she and Evan Parker hadn’t been together where Jenny might have seen them. She scratched her head and walked outside where she picked up the metal striker and ran it around the inside of the triangle. The strong, clear ring brought the few folks sitting around the remains of last night’s campfire to their feet. Others scurried out of their tents and down the steps. Bethany couldn’t help searching for Evan Parker. Would he be at breakfast? Or had he stayed up late last night working on his project?
She hooked the striker to the bottom of the triangle and went back inside the cookhouse. The man wasn’t her type at all. She preferred tall cowboys with dark eyes and dark hair, like her father had been when he was younger. Okay, Evan Parker was tall, she’d give him that—and had shoulders wide enough to lean on and blue eyes to die for. Gritting her teeth, she shoved thoughts of the computer geek aside. They had nothing in common, so why did he keep straying into her thoughts?
She poured a pot of coffee into the large carafe and started another pot brewing. With everything in order, she filled a plate and sat down at the small table to eat with Jenny while the guests filled their plates. They were close enough if anyone needed help.
The salty bacon teased her tongue and crunched in her teeth. A swig of coffee filled her stomach with its soothing warmth. Murmurs of conversation battled the clank of the big serving spoons and tongs as the guests helped themselves to the array of food.
“Are things ready for lunch?” Bethany held her mug with both hands and peered over the top at Jenny.
The cook nodded. “I’ve got fixings for sandwiches and am making a pot of chicken noodle soup to go with it. I’ll clean up here and cook the soup then meet you at the lunch site by noon.”
Bethany nodded, grateful that her father had the wisdom to keep Jenny on staff. The woman had cooked for them for the last five summers. With her kids grown and her husband deceased, the job gave her something to do, as well as a much-needed income.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes; then Big Jim banged through the back door, filling the whole entryway. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he stared at her with narrowed eyes.
Bethany’s heart sank down to her belly. “What’s wrong?”
He glanced at the line of guests at the buffet and motioned his head toward the door. “Got something to show you.”
Thankfully, she’d just finished her breakfast. She had a feeling the news he had to share would have affected her appetite. Big Jim was normally lively and jovial, but not this morning. He didn’t even take time to grab a cup of coffee.
Outside and away from the guests, she turned to him. “Tell me straight. What is it?”
“Better that I show you.” He strode toward the wagons, and she searched the area for signs of trouble. Occasionally, some critter wandered into a tent when a guest had left food exposed, but that rarely happened with so many people around.
Jim strode around the back of the last wagon and pointed to the wheel. Bethany pursed her lips. A flat tire. Well, it wasn’t the end of the world or the first time a tire had gone down. “What’s the big deal? Just air it back up.”
Jim gave her an exasperated shake of his head like a father might give a troublesome child. He gently grasped her upper arm and propelled her forward. He stopped beside the next wagon, and her eyes drifted downward. This wagon had not one but two flat tires.
Her gaze flew up to his. “This can’t be an accident. One tire, maybe, but not three.”
“Oh, it’s not just three. The back tires on the Jeep are flat, too.”
“Why would someone do this?” Evan Parker leaped into her mind again. Surely he wouldn’t do something like this just so he could stay near a power source. No, he didn’t seem the kind of man to play pranks, but what did she really know about him? “Maybe some of the teens couldn’t sleep last night and got bored.”
Jim shrugged one big shoulder. “Maybe, but I can’t help feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“I’ll air up the Jeep tires and then start on the wagons,” Bethany said. “You go on and get so
me breakfast.”
“You sure? I don’t mind doing it.”
She smiled and nodded. “Go on. This won’t take too long, and let’s try to keep it quiet and not let the guests know there’s been trouble.”
“Good idea. If it is some of the teens, maybe we can catch them if they don’t know that we’re on to them.” He turned and strode toward the cookhouse.
Bethany opened the back of the Jeep and found the long hose that hooked to the small air compressor they always brought along. A hiss of air escaped as she attached the other end to the Jeep’s right rear tire. She turned on the rumbling compressor and started the air pumping.
She looked back toward camp to see if anyone was watching her. If one of them had done this, surely they’d want to see the reaction of whoever discovered their deed. But nobody seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to her.
Thank goodness they hadn’t damaged the tires. If they’d been slashed, the whole trip would have come to a quick halt until replacement tires could be provided.
First, the too-spicy food, and now this. Was someone deliberately trying to mess up this trip? Or was it just some strange, unfortunate coincidence?
Five
Bethany rubbed lotion on her hands and worked the soothing cream into her cracked fingertips. Washing dishes for fifty people did a number on her hands. She stood at the door of her tent and scanned the crowded campsite. Teens and their chaperones sat listening to Steve spin a yarn about the olden days while two other cowboys played a banjo and a harmonica.
The sun had already set on the second day of their tour, but the sky was still a dark blue and hadn’t yielded to the blackness of night that would soon surround them. Bethany longed for some quiet and grabbed her rifle. With all the noise in the camp, it wasn’t likely a wild animal would venture close, but she would be prepared if it did.
She zipped her tent shut and then her jacket and strode past the rows of tents. Lantern lights flickered behind a few of the canvas sides, but most people were still down at the camp, making s’mores and enjoying Steve’s tale about a lost gold shipment. The ground crunched beneath her boots, and she angled over toward the horses. Under lantern light, Big Jim was brushing down a bay mare, one of the dozen head they kept on hand for horseback riding.
“How’s it going?”
Jim turned her direction, but his face was blotted out by the growing darkness. The light shone behind him, outlining his silhouette. “All right. The horses weathered today’s trail rides okay, even though a few of the kids ran them more than they should have.”
“Kids like to gallop, that’s for sure.” A gray gelding nickered at Bethany and stuck his long head over the fence, looking for a handout. She patted his forehead then smoothed down his forelock, remembering with a smile how one girl had called them bangs. “Sorry, boy, I don’t have any treats for you.”
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you ever since breakfast.” Jim patted the mare he’d been brushing and turned her loose in the corral. He rolled up the lead rope and stared at Bethany. With his left side facing the lantern, she saw a muscle tick in his jaw. He studied the ground then looked up. “It wasn’t any of these kids that let the air out of the tires.”
Bethany sucked in a breath. “Then who was it?”
Jim shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but I found a set of hoof prints close to the wagons.”
She huffed out a half laugh and relaxed her shoulders. “The horses have been all over this area. What’s so unusual about that?”
“I found where the horse had been tied up. There were quite a few prints there, all belonging to the same animal and someone wearing boots. The horse was wearin’ egg bar shoes, and you know we don’t use those on our horses.”
“Isn’t that a shoe that is shaped like an oval and has a bar across the back?”
Jim nodded and leaned his arms over the top rail of the corral. “I’ll make some calls and see which ranchers around here use egg bars. Whoever let out the air rode a long ways to play a prank.”
Bethany lifted her boot to the bottom rail and set her rifle against the gate post. “But who? And why?”
“I don’t know. But I think we should be extra watchful on this trip.”
“Yeah. I agree.” She thought of their neighbors and the people in town, but not one person stood out who might want to cause them trouble. People in the high country generally stuck together and helped each other. “Well, I’m going for a walk before it’s totally dark. I’ll keep my ears open.”
“It’s already dark. Want some company?”
She smiled. “Thanks, but I need some time alone. These teenagers make too much noise.”
A loud laugh from the edge of camp sounded, followed by a girl’s squeal.
“I hear ya.” He took the lantern and headed back toward the campfire.
Bethany pushed away from the corral and picked up her rifle. The tire incident couldn’t have been by chance. They were miles away from anyone else, so someone would have had to deliberately seek them out. Someone who knew their schedule. A shiver raced down her back.
She walked along the path the horses used during the trail rides. She knew this area by heart and didn’t need a light to guide her. The music and chatter of the guests faded, and the sounds of nature soothed her with their serenade.
She topped a hill and walked down the other side, effectively blocking out the glow of the campfire. A strange light flickered ahead in the navy twilight. Bethany slid to a halt. What in the world? It fluttered around like a giant firefly; then it faded and disappeared. Her heart stampeded, and she lifted the rifle. The light reappeared, closer than before. She took a step backward.
Scuffling footsteps drew nearer. The light dimmed again, disappeared, and then shone bright once more. Her breath grew ragged, and she clutched the weapon tighter.
The blue glow looked unnatural in the wilderness setting. Suddenly, she heard whistling. A tune that pulled her back to church. One of the worship songs she’d learned as a kid.
The footsteps stopped about fifty feet in front of her. The light dipped down and moved around about a foot off the ground. Bethany’s limbs grew weak with relief as she realized what she’d been seeing. A cell phone.
“Are you lost?” she called out, glad the darkness covered the red on her cheeks.
The light jerked, and whoever it was must have straightened. The phone stayed black, and the person didn’t answer for a few moments. “Uh. . .a man never likes to admit such a thing to a lady.”
Her heart constricted. She recognized that voice. “Mr. Parker?”
“Busted.”
“What are you doing out here?”
A cool breeze whipped her hair into her face. She brushed it back and looped it over her ear. Laughter drifted her way, and she strained to hear where it was coming from. Definitely not camp.
“I was climbing trees.”
“What?”
“Trees. You know. Climbing.” He flipped open the phone, illuminating his face in the stark darkness.
“You’re serious.”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He shrugged and looked to his right. “I. . .uh. . .was trying to get up high enough to get phone service.”
Bethany shook her head. “That’s crazy. You could have gotten hurt. And you’re not supposed to leave camp alone, especially at night. Did anyone even know where you were?”
“No, not really.” The light faded, and he left it off. “I’m not exactly used to reporting in to my fourteen-year-old niece.”
Having an argument in the dark was weird, but she wasn’t about to ask him to turn on the light. So much for time alone. “We have rules for a reason, Mr. Parker.”
“Call me Evan.”
“Woo-hoo! That’s what I’m talking about.” A loud voice carried across the quiet landscape, and a fire flamed to life in the distance.
What now?
She reached out and grabbed Evan’s arm
, tugging him up the hill. “Come with me.”
“Who’s out there?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” As they topped the hill, the soft glow of the campfire illuminated the horizon. She released her hold on him. “There’s camp. You can make it fine from here.”
“You’re not going out there alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have my rifle.”
He snorted a laugh. “I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She walked toward his voice. “You’re a guest. I do this for a living. Go back to camp.”
He didn’t say anything, but his warm breath fanned her face. Given another day and time, she might have enjoyed a walk at night with the handsome man. She shook her head and stomped down the hill. What had gotten into her?
Dreaming of walking in the dark with a man who climbed trees in hopes of making his cell phone work. Oh brother. She missed the comforts of the city, too, but this guy was really out there. Her pace slowed as she neared the small campfire. Illuminated by the fire, a lanky boy from the junior high group passed a bottle to another teen.
“Whoo-wee, that stuff sure has a kick.”
“Hey, give it back. I only got a little swig.”
Bethany ground her teeth together. She ought to go get Jim, but then she ought to be able to handle two kids on her own. She hoisted her rifle and marched into camp. Maybe she could scare some sense into them. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
On the far side of the campfire, the tallest youth spun around looking startled, and then a cocky smirk lifted one side of his mouth. The shorter boy stuck a bottle behind his back.
“We’re just havin’ some fun. Come and join us, why don’t you?” The tall boy ran his hand through his hair. “My name’s Donny. Aren’t you Miss Schaffer?”
Bethany ignored his unskilled attempt to flirt and lowered her rifle. The boys may have broken several rules by taking off alone, starting a fire, and drinking liquor, but she certainly wasn’t going to shoot one of them. The campfire popped and flickered, stretching its fingers of light into the night, illuminating the teenagers and casting spooky shadows in her direction.
Wagonload Of Trouble Page 5
