“Nothing,” they answered together.
“Well, pipe down. You’ll scare the cattle,” he said.
“Where’s Cheryl going? I didn’t say goodbye.” Kayla started to climb down from the fence as Cheryl drove past.
“She’s got an errand to run. She’s not leaving until her sister gets here. You’ll have plenty of time to say goodbye.” He entered the corral and began cutting two young bulls away from the herd and driving them toward the loading chute.
“We got to find a way to stop her,” Lindy said more quietly. She pushed her hat off and let it dangle down her back by the ties.
“Daddy will stop her.”
“What if she leaves before he comes home? Then what will happen?”
“I don’t know,” Kayla admitted.
They watched silently as Walter loaded the first two cattle into the trailer, then he rode back into the herd and began to cut two young heifers away and drive them up the chute. The truck driver lowered the gate with a loud clatter when the last calf entered the trailer. He came and stood beside the girls.
“Fer a minute there, I thought I was a seein’ double,” he drawled, tipping his hat back. “Don’t folks have trouble tellin’ you apart?”
The twins nodded. “Yup,” they answered together.
“Where are you—”
“—taking Daddy’s cattle?”
He spat a stream of tobacco juice on the ground. “Yer daddy sold ’em, so they ain’t his cattle no more. The heifers I’m takin’ to a ranch over by Abilene, and them bulls are going to a farm down by Wichita.”
“Wichita?” Lindy looked at her sister and smiled. Kayla stared at her a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Yup, all the way to Wichita,” the man replied.
Walter rode up, dismounted and looped his reins over the fence. “Come to the house, Mr. Reed, and we’ll settle the bill.”
The two men crossed the yard together. They stepped apart as Bonkers darted between them and scampered toward the twins still sitting on the fence.
Cheryl turned the pickup off the highway at the familiar corner and drove slowly down the rutted lane. Weeds sprouted in a wide path between the tire tracks. The house, when it came into view, was as neglected-looking as the lane.
The once-white building was gray with age and peeling paint. The porch railing was missing a spindle or two giving the house the appearance of an old hag with missing teeth. It seemed smaller than she remembered. The yard was overgrown and wore an air of neglect.
Only the barn and corrals showed signs of repairs. A battered green-and-white pickup held a stack of new lumber and paint cans that showed someone’s intent to continue the work.
Cheryl stepped out of the truck and waited.
There was no sign of life. She approached the house with trepidation and climbed the steps. The front door stood open behind the screen door. She didn’t have any idea what she’d say to Doris or to Jake, but she raised her hand and knocked as loudly as her wavering courage would allow. No one came. Calling out a hello, she opened the door and stepped inside her childhood home.
Little had changed, she saw as she stood in the entryway. The wallpaper was the same pattern of yellow roses, now faded to a drab gray. A glance into the living room showed her the same brown sofa, sagging more in the middle, and an overstuffed chair. The smell was different, she thought. It smelled old and devoid of life. It all seemed so familiar, and yet so foreign.
“Hello?” she called out again. Only silence answered her. Her sense of unease grew. She turned and hurried toward the front door and the fresh air and sunshine. Her hand was on the screen door when a dark figure loomed in front of her, blocking out the light.
“What are you doing here?”
For an instant, she didn’t recognize his voice. Older and deeper, it carried a hard edge that sent a chill down her spine. So this was the man her brother had become. Fear flickered in the pit of her stomach. What had made her think that she could confront him? No one knew where she’d gone.
The thought of Sam and what he stood to lose stiffened her spine. Jake wasn’t going to ruin all Sam had worked to achieve. Not if she could help it.
Raising her chin, she said, “I wouldn’t have come at all if you hadn’t stolen Harvey. Where is he? I want him back.” She shoved open the screen door.
“Who?” He stepped backward as she barged out of the house.
She held her arms outstretched as she advanced on him. “Big white bull.” She wiggled her fingers over her head. “Lots of curls. Pink hooves that match these.” She thrust her nails in front of his face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took another step back and teetered on the edge of the steps.
Shoving against his chest with both hands, she sent him sprawling in the dirt. His black hat went flying. She straddled his body before he could get up. Balling her fists, she said, “You tell me where he is or I’ll—I’ll…”
A slow grin spread over his face, softening his features into the charming older brother she’d once known. “Or you’ll do what? Spit in my eye? If I remember right, Twiggy, that’s what you used to threaten me with.”
Her bravado evaporated at his use of the nickname she’d hated. She dropped her fists.
“After all this time you can’t even say hello?” he asked.
Slowly, she extended one hand toward him. “Hello, Goat Breath. How have you been?”
“Not too bad.” After a moment, he took her hand, and she pulled him to his feet. “Nobody’s called me Goat Breath in a long, long time. Sounds kind of nice.”
Cheryl sank onto the porch steps behind her, and after a brief hesitation, he picked up his hat and sat down beside her.
“You didn’t take them, did you?” she said.
“Take what?”
“Sam Hardin’s cattle.”
“No.” He dusted off his hat.
“They think you did. The sheriff will be out here soon.”
He settled his hat on his head. “It won’t be the first time. But there’s nothing for him to find.”
She stared at Jake, seeing how the years had added lines to his face. He hadn’t had an easy time of it. “I’m sorry I suspected you.”
He shrugged. “Can’t blame you. My track record ain’t exactly flawless.” He returned her steady regard. “You sure look like your mother.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“She was always good to me. I loved her for that. What are you doing out here, Cheryl?”
“I had a car accident on my way to Manhattan after Angie’s wedding, and I broke my foot. The rest is a long story, but I’ve been staying at the Hardin ranch. Angie told me you were at her wedding. Your music was beautiful.”
“Yeah, well, I had plenty of time to practice.”
“Angie also told me yesterday about what you did for me. If it means anything after all this time—thank you.”
He scuffed the ground with the heel of his boot. “Yeah, it means something.”
“I wish… I’m sorry I didn’t…you know…keep in touch.”
“After the mess I got you into, I didn’t expect you would.”
“No, it wasn’t right that I cut you off. I’m glad Angie had more sense. Our little sister is a lot deeper than I thought.”
He nodded. “She’s a good kid. I hope she’s happy with Jeff.”
“I think she will be. What about you? Is there anyone?”
His bark of laughter was bitter. “In this cattle country? No rancher’s daughter is going to take a chance on me. Besides, I’ve been too busy trying to make a go of this place.”
“Looks like you’re making progress.”
“Like you didn’t know.”
She frowned. “How would I know?”
He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It may take a while, but I can get this place back on its feet. You’ll see.”
What had she said to upset him? She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. �
�I’m sure you will.” She smiled and gave him a gentle shake. “Although, it’s just like a cowboy to fix up the barn before he fixes up the house.”
“Doris won’t let me touch the place. I’ve got a room down in the barn. I stay there and keep an eye on her. She’s gotten more peculiar in her old age. She was doing a little better until she saw you.”
Astounded, Cheryl said, “She saw me? When?”
“You were in Council Grove at the doctor’s office after that snowstorm. It’s a small town. It didn’t take her long to find out Hardin had a strange woman staying on his ranch. Doris kind of went off the deep end then.”
He turned to her and gripped Cheryl’s shoulders. “She doesn’t have anywhere else to go. She doesn’t have any money. She’s an old woman. I know she treated you badly when you were a kid—”
“Badly?” Cheryl jerked out of his hold and took a step away. “I can’t tell you how many times she took a belt to my back. Believe me, almost a year in the girls’ correctional facility was a walk in the park compared to life here.”
“She beat you?”
Of course he hadn’t known. She’d never told anyone, and it wasn’t fair to blame him now. She crossed her arms and stared at the ground. “After Mom died and Doris came to live with us, you got your own place. And Dad was so drunk most of the time, he didn’t care. She and I didn’t get along from the get-go. I was mouthy and surly and mad at the world. She couldn’t stand the way I acted out.”
“That didn’t give her the right to hit you.”
“After I came back from juvie, it got a lot worse. Doris blamed me because that stupid diary I kept was the reason Dad and you were caught and went to prison the second time.”
Jake shook his head. “The crimes we committed sent us to prison, honey.”
“The sheriff would never have known where we were if I hadn’t written about keeping the cattle out at the old Stoker place. If I hadn’t gloated about what we got away with.”
“I don’t blame you. I never did. I never should have let Dad drag you into the business in the first place.”
“I wanted to help. I wanted him to notice me, to love me. Kids will do stupid things to get noticed, won’t they? In the end maybe I was more like him than I thought.”
Jake drew her into a fierce hug. “No, kid. You’ve got too much of your mother in you to end up like him, or like me.”
Tears stung her eyes as she returned his hug. “Thanks, but I don’t think you turned out so badly,” she muttered against his shirtfront.
He held her at arms’ length. “No, but it took me a long time to decide which way I was going to go. I met a good man in prison. He was a counselor. He told me about finding forgiveness. I’ve been trying to live the way he taught me. It hasn’t been easy. If Sam Hardin wants to find his missing cattle, tell him to look for a cowhand that was fired from the Double R about a week ago.”
“How do you know this?”
He gave her a wry smile. “The sheriff isn’t the only one who thinks I practice my old trade. Now and then I get offers.”
She managed a smile in return. “Thank you. Where is Doris? It’s past time she and I set a few things straight.”
“You just missed her. She left a little while ago with a woman named Slader. They didn’t say when they’d be back.”
The earth shifted beneath Cheryl as a loud buzzing filled her ears. “Do you mean Merci Slader?”
“A tall redhead, doesn’t smile much. Hey, you’re as pale as a sheet. What’s wrong?” He steadied her with both hands.
“Oh, no. I should have told him.” She pulled away from Jake and hurried to her pickup.
“Cheryl, wait! What’s wrong?” He followed her and laid a hand on the open window as she started the engine.
“I never told Sam who I really am. Don’t you see? They’ve gone to tell him about me. If he gets back before I do, he’ll know I kept the truth from him all this time. I’m sorry, Jake, I have to go.” She put the truck in gear and sped away.
Sam turned into his lane, and the image of Cheryl as he had last seen her flashed into his mind for the hundredth time. Had he imagined the regret and longing that had filled her eyes? He knew that he loved her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe she didn’t love him in return. Had she left already? He didn’t know which he dreaded more, finding her gone or watching her leave.
When he pulled up in front of the house, he saw Merci Slader’s dark blue Sable parked beside it. What did she want?
Walter came out of the house as Sam stepped out of the truck. “That took you long enough. How’d it go?”
“Our report’s been filed. The sheriff wants to talk to the foreman at the Double R before he questions anyone else.”
“He’d better make it fast. The longer he waits, the less chance we have of getting our cattle back.”
“I know.” Sam stared at the front door of the house. He wanted to see Cheryl coming out to greet him, to tell him she’d made a mistake and she intended to stay. Something in his face must have given him away.
“She’s not here,” Walter said quietly, his eyes full of sympathy. “She borrowed my truck. Said she had an errand that couldn’t wait. Her sister called and left a message to say she was on her way.”
“I see. Where are the girls?” he managed to ask.
Walter looked around the yard. “I’m not sure. They were here a little while ago. I thought they had gone to the house, but they’re not inside.”
“Has she told them she’s leaving today?”
“Yes.”
“Did they seem upset?”
“Not when I saw them.”
“Maybe they’re down in the garden.” Sam shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Well, Gramps. This is where you get to say, ‘I told you so.’”
Walter laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I think I’d rather say I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
“Thanks.”
Walter nodded. “Merci Slader is waiting to talk to you.”
“I saw her car. Did she say what she wanted?”
“No, she wouldn’t talk to me. She has Doris Thatcher with her. Said you’d want to hear what the woman had to say.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cheryl parked the truck beside the barn. Sam stood on the front porch watching her. She crossed the distance between them with lagging steps, feeling her courage ebb away. She knew by the look on his face that she was too late. She could only hope that he would understand why she had deceived him.
She stopped at the foot of the steps. The silence stretched between them. She rubbed her palms on the side of her jeans. “Sam, I can explain.”
Merci stepped out of the doorway behind Sam. “I hope you enjoyed your little joke, Ms. Steele. Or should I say, Ms. Thatcher. You really had us fooled. There’s hardly a trace of the poor little country girl left.” Cheryl’s grandmother came out of the house and stood beside Merci.
“So it’s true? You’re a Thatcher?” Sam asked.
Cheryl’s heart sank at the sight of his expression. The pain and disbelief in his eyes told her more than words how much her deception had hurt him. “Yes, it’s true.”
Merci gave her a frosty smile. “You should have told us who you were. You’re quite famous around here. It’s not every day a girl of twelve steals a semitrailer-load of cattle, and then rides down the officer trying to arrest her. Walter said you’ve had some cattle stolen recently, Sam. Perhaps Ms. Thatcher can explain how that happened?”
“I knew she was no good. She’s here to make trouble and nothing else,” Doris Thatcher announced. Dressed in a faded, black, shapeless garment, her gray hair drawn back in a tight bun, she looked every one of her seventy-odd years. “I tried to change the children from their evil ways, but my words fell on deaf ears.”
Cheryl studied Sam’s face. Did he truly think she had helped steal his cattle? She straightened as she faced him. She’d spent a lifetime being ashamed of who and what she was—hiding from her o
wn past. But she was more than Hank Thatcher’s daughter—a lot more. She was also Mira Thatcher’s daughter. Something she would be proud of until her dying day. If Sam Hardin didn’t see that after all they’d meant to each other, she wasn’t going to beg him to understand.
“Excuse me, I have to finish packing.” She marched up the steps, and the group at the top parted as she walked between them with her head held high.
She was halfway across the living room when Sam caught her arm and turned her to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
Pride kept her back straight when what she wanted to do was fall into his arms. “I started to a dozen times, Sam, but I knew how people would react.” She gestured toward the door. “Just like that. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done or where I’ve been for the last fifteen years. All that matters is that Hank Thatcher was my father and that must make me a thief.”
“Cheryl, I don’t believe you had anything to do with my missing cattle.”
“Thank you. But others won’t be so kind. My mother was a good, decent woman who never hurt anyone. All she did was try to survive a bad marriage and shelter her children. For that, she never got anything from her so-called friends and neighbors except condemnation. I didn’t expect anything different.”
“I’m not condemning you, Cheryl, but I thought you trusted me.”
Cheryl heard the pain in Sam’s voice. “I do trust you, but try to understand. I wanted you to see me. I didn’t want who you saw to be colored by who I was. I never meant to hurt you.”
Her grandmother advanced toward them, her thin frame shaking with emotion as she yelled, “You should never have come back. I told your sister, and I’m telling you—go away. You can’t steal what rightly belonged to my son. The place is mine.”
Cheryl studied her grandmother’s worn face. She and Angie had escaped into new lives, but Doris Thatcher had stayed and faced the whispers and the snubs of this community all these years. She’d been in a prison as surely as Jake had been, only the bars were ones you couldn’t see. No wonder she seemed crazed by it all.
Balancing Act Page 17
