“Are those some of Bertie’s cookies?” Dane asked, indicating a small nearby waiting area. “Let’s step in here for a minute and talk.”
Cheyenne held out the package she was carrying as they entered the unoccupied room. “Blaze’s favorite.”
“Dr. Cheyenne Allison,” Dane said, “meet Dora Adcock, Gavin Farmer’s mother.”
Dora held her hand out and took Cheyenne’s in a firm grip. “Doctor? Which one are you?”
“She’s the one who rescued your son last night,” Dane said. “She’s the person who’s been tutoring Gavin.”
Cheyenne gave him a quick glance. Was that an edge of irritation she detected in his voice?
“What kind of a doctor does that?” Dora asked.
“I’m an emergency physician.”
“No kidding?” Dora laughed. “That’s what it would take for Gav to learn something. Emergency. Something like wanting to get his license.”
“I think he’ll do it next time,” Cheyenne said.
“That’s what Dane says too. I’ve yet to see this great new knowledge of Gavin’s. Nice meeting you, Doctor. I’m going to go say goodbye to my son and hit the road. I’ve got to get back to work.” She turned and left them.
Cheyenne stared after her.
Dane chuckled. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch a fly.”
“I can see where Blaze gets his attitude.”
“I can see why he wants to stay at the ranch. Not that he has much choice. I think she suspects him again.”
“Of setting the fire?”
He nodded.
“That makes two of you,” she said quietly.
He closed his eyes and turned away. “Ouch.”
“You really think he could have done it? And the other vandalism?”
“Obviously, you don’t,” Dane said.
Cheyenne was sorry the subject had come up. She realized she didn’t like being at odds with Dane, and this topic definitely put them at odds. Still, Blaze didn’t deserve all the suspicion being directed at him.
“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t. If you can’t trust yourself, trust me. I’ve come to know Blaze pretty well. In these past few weeks I’ve probably spent more one-on-one time with him than you have in all the time he’s been at the ranch.”
“I have other kids to keep up with.” He sounded defensive.
“Would you relax?” she said. “I’m not criticizing you, I’m simply stating a fact. Blaze acts up in school to draw attention away from his dyslexia, and it becomes a habit. I know, because I’ve done it myself. But can you see him shooting the mother of those kittens he found in my closet?”
“I’m not talking about cats, I’m talking about the fact that I have to be certain about the safety of my kids. Did you know Blaze has been slipping out at night?”
“Slipping out?”
“I bet he wouldn’t tell you that, no matter how much one-on-one time you spent with him.”
“Watch it with the sarcasm.”
“Sorry,” Dane said. “I’m a little touchy about the subject. So you’re saying he acts up now because of the dyslexia. Are you also saying when he becomes more comfortable with his abilities, he’ll settle down in class?”
“Well, I did.”
“Good, then you’ll be happy to know he’s going to settle soon. He’s made more progress since you’ve started working with him than he’s made in the past ten years.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s told me, of course. He said it was as if everything fell into place for him these past weeks. You were able to connect with him in a way nobody else has, because he could identify with you.”
“He said that?”
“No, I read between the lines on that one. And the other day, I casually asked him to make a list of the cows that had given birth so far this year.”
“You asked him to write it?”
“I thought it would be simple enough, and he needed the practice if he was going to take that written test. We give our cows simple names like Bell and Rose and Gordy. Blaze gave me a complete list.”
Cheyenne caught her breath. “He did? He didn’t say anything to me about that.”
“It’s the first time he’s done anything like it. I think everything is finally coming together for him.”
“Except for his relationship with his mother?” she asked.
“Except for that.”
“And for the fact that he’s under suspicion for arson.”
Dane stepped over to the window that overlooked the south parking lot. “Yes, that too.”
“Lucky Blaze.” It was her turn to be sarcastic. “He’s got it made.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
On Monday morning, Austin Barlow made his usual stop at the house before driving out to the barn to deliver a ten-pound bag of grain for Courage. When Cheyenne answered his knock, he was standing at the end of the porch, gazing across the lake toward the ranch, where several people from town had gone over to help Dane and the boys clean up the mess.
Cheyenne stepped out onto the porch. “Morning, Austin.”
He turned around, hat in his hands. “Hi, Cheyenne.” He pulled two yellow message slips from the front pocket of his blue Western-cut shirt. “Cecil gave me these to bring you when I picked up the grain this morning. Looks like the messages are increasing now that you’re a short-timer.”
She thanked him and glanced at the notes. One was from Larry Strong, requesting a call-back ASAP. Of course. Larry always needed his ASAP. The other one was from Jim, who wanted to make sure she knew her first shift was the first of July.
She knew. The nightmares, which had eased a lot in the past few weeks, now haunted her again.
“I guess you heard the latest about the fire,” Austin said.
“The fire chief thinks it was arson.”
He nodded. The morning sunlight struck his wavy auburn hair in a red-gold glow and emphasized the lines in his tanned face. He looked tired, and his usual come-to-visit smile was dull around the edges.
“That doesn’t mean it was Blaze,” she said.
“I know.”
Oh, really? Sometimes he surprised her. “Austin, someone was paddling a canoe away from the ranch when I arrived there that night. Blaze says he saw someone running toward the lake when he first came out of the house. I know it’s easy to blame—”
“Cheyenne, stop. Dane already told me.”
“Okay. Well.”
“Look, I didn’t come to argue about the fire. I just came to bring you those messages and see if maybe you’d like to take a drive to Branson for a show before you left.”
She couldn’t imagine why her thoughts suddenly turned to Dane, wondering if he would feel betrayed. But why should he? It wasn’t as if he had ever asked her to a show, and it wasn’t as if riding to Branson and back with Austin constituted a deepening of their extremely tentative friendship.
And she also couldn’t imagine why the idea suddenly appealed. Perhaps because she had grown more familiar with Austin during his short visits when he came to check on the horse. Besides, she simply wanted to see a show.
“That sounds like fun,” she said. “Make it Wednesday night.”
He blinked. “Oh. Really? Good.” His smile brightened. “What show would you like to see?”
“The Shepherd of the Hills, and I’ll pay for my own ticket.” No way did she want him to think this was anything romantic. “You can drive, but I’ll buy dinner.”
“Can I ask you something else?” He glanced toward the ranch again.
“You can always ask.” That didn’t mean she had to answer.
“What on earth does that Gavin Farmer do here all the time? Seems like half the time I come by, he’s here.”
“Could be he’s wondering the same thing about you,” she said.
“I come over to see about my horse.”
“So does he.” Austin didn’t need to know that wasn’t Blaze’s only motivation. “Don’
t forget he’s an animal lover, which is another reason he wouldn’t have set fire to the barn last week. He also helps me out with yard maintenance while he’s here. Speaking of Courage, what are you planning to do with him when I leave?”
“Do you think your friend would let us keep him here? I’d pay her, of course.”
“I’ll ask, but I feel sorry for Courage, alone here all the time except when you and Ramsay come to check on him.”
“So you could just stay here,” Austin said.
“Right. To keep a horse company? He’d be a great addition to the ranch when they get their new barn up. Where is Ramsay today?”
Austin indicated the ranch with a nod of his head. “He took the boat across the lake earlier this morning. He wanted to help with the cleanup. I’m heading over that way soon as I leave here.”
“You are?”
He shook his head sadly. “Why do you have such a low opinion of me, Cheyenne? It isn’t as if I’m a hard-hearted idiot. Of course I’m going to do my Christian duty to help out a community member in need, and my son takes after me.”
It was Cheyenne’s turn to shake her head sadly. Poor Austin didn’t even seem to realize how self-righteous he sounded. He was right that his son seemed to imitate his actions, though reluctantly at times.
“Is it possible you might want to retreat back down here on your days off?” Austin asked. “I know it’s quite a drive down from Columbia, but—”
“I might just do that,” she said. She’d been thinking about it lately, as the time to leave drew closer. Perversely, it disappointed her that Dane hadn’t been the one to ask her about coming back. Not that she needed to be asked.
Austin cleared his throat. “Something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Dane’s mentioned it to me a couple of times, and Bertie Meyer’s been twisting my mom’s arm to talk to me about it. Of course, I told them you wouldn’t be interested, and I feel a little foolish even asking you, but Bertie would never forgive me if—”
“Spit it out, Austin. The worst I can do is say no.”
“I wondered if you’d ever consider opening a solo practice right here in Hideaway. Now, don’t laugh until you’ve heard me out.”
She wasn’t laughing, though she couldn’t imagine why not.
“That little episode at the ranch the other night opened a lot of eyes around here.” He placed his hat on the porch wall and paced to the end of the porch again, combing his fingers through his hair. “Mine included.”
“About what?”
“We’re too far from medical care here. Shoot, we don’t even have a paramedic. Since we’re so isolated and more people are moving in here all the time, building nice new homes and all, I think we need to see about begging a doctor to open a practice. We’ve got a lot of retired people with health problems. Dane’s already offered the use of his downtown property to put in an office, and to open a pharmacy.”
“It would take awhile to build up a practice here,” she said. “And it’s a small town. A person could starve getting started.” Why was she even thinking about it? This was impossible.
“I know. All that’s true. It’s a crazy idea, especially asking an ER doc to do it. But I see it like this—we need somebody here who’s used to emergencies, because we’re so isolated. As you’ve already seen, we get a lot of tourist traffic in town from the lake during the summer months, and I got word from the folks who run the bed-and-breakfast that they’ve got a tour bus line placing them on their travel agenda. I’m still not sure I like all the influx, but since it seems to be happening with or without my approval, we need to make sure the visitors can get to medical care while they’re here—you know those busses are filled with retirees either on their way to invade Branson or on their way back. Somebody could keel over with a heart attack at any minute, and all we got’s a couple of people who know CPR.”
“I’ll ask around when I get back to Columbia,” she said. “That place is crawling with doctors fresh out of residency and looking for their first practice.”
Austin’s broad shoulders slumped a little. “Yeah. Well, sure, I’d appreciate that. Let me know if you hear anything, okay?”
As usual, Austin didn’t stay long, and as soon as he drove away Cheyenne went to her car and plugged in the phone. People still teased her about not having a telephone in the house, or a cell phone, but this suited her well.
“Hi, Larry, this is Cheyenne,” she said when he answered. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
There was a pause. “We received a complaint from Kirk Warden’s attorneys last Thursday, and I’m checking it out.”
“What complaint?”
“Did you attempt to contact Mr. Warden for any reason when you were in town last Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
Another pause, this time a little longer. “May I ask why?”
“It had nothing to do with the lawsuit. I went by his house to request the return of a family album Susan and I had been working on before her death.”
“That wasn’t what we were told.”
“Well, why am I not surprised? I’ve never known Kirk to be an honest person.”
“Cheyenne, that wasn’t the wisest move. This is obviously a hostile situation, judging by what you’ve told us about his actions at the funeral.”
“I understand how Kirk will try to make it look to a jury, Larry. After I left there, I realized I shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted that album.”
“Did you get it?”
“No, Kirk denied having it, but Larry, he had a woman at the house with him.”
“That won’t have any bearing on this case.”
“Why not? I heard her call him honey. Surely if the jury would take exception to my visit there, they would also take exception to—”
“We’re hoping there won’t be a jury,” Larry said.
“Hoping?” She didn’t like the sudden softness of his voice. “What do you mean?”
“We’re expecting a settlement.”
“No.”
“It would be the least costly way for everyone concerned.”
“Everyone but me,” she said. “I would have that on my record for the rest of my career. It’s a vicious attack, and it’s totally unfair.”
“We’ve already discussed this. I thought you understood.”
“I understand that my professional liability premiums would go through the roof, my whole future—”
“A settlement doesn’t mean a judgment. It would be confidential, with no admission of guilt in order to prevent a judgment against you.”
“But the guilt is still assumed,” she said.
“It happens all the time. Some of the best doctors in the city have been sued, Cheyenne, everybody knows that. It isn’t as if you have to pay your own insurance premiums. An ER doc is almost always covered by the hospital where she works.”
“You mean like the coverage that’s paying for this case? And what if I don’t always choose to work in a hospital setting? Or here’s a shocking suggestion—what if hospitals choose not to hire me because of the liability? The applications always ask about lawsuit history. Forget it, Larry. I’m not settling. I want my name totally cleared.”
He sighed. “But if you lose, it could be a lot worse. You may not have a choice. Warden’s attorneys are already hinting that they might be willing to settle for five hundred thousand.”
“Half a million dollars!” Were they insane?
“Ed is hoping they’ll at least drop it to three hundred thousand, and maybe even two-fifty. If they do, I’m afraid it’ll be a no-brainer.”
“In other words, if that happens, I’m on my own.” She felt as if her final support was threatening to buckle beneath her.
“Look at it from our perspective, Cheyenne. A modest settlement could cost less than the legal expenses to fight it for an extended period, even if we won the case. And keep in mind that the jury generally has the opinion that the big, nasty hospitals, doctors and i
nsurance companies must be forced to pay something, and often that jumps over the million mark very quickly.”
She felt sick. “But it isn’t being decided today, right?”
“Not today, and probably not this month, but it looks to be headed in that direction.”
“Thanks for the warning.” She said goodbye and disconnected, slumping backward in the passenger seat of the car.
“I could’ve come over here myself, you know,” Blaze complained as he tied their boat to Cheyenne’s dock and stepped ashore late Monday afternoon.
“That doesn’t make it the smartest thing to do,” Dane said. “I just want to keep an eye on you a little longer.”
“You don’t think four days is long enough?” The teenager flexed his right bicep. “I’m in great shape.”
He did look healthy, and Dane had managed to keep him away from the burned barn, where as many as thirty people at a time had been working to clean up the mess today. At this rate, with the other boys helping, they would have another barn up and operating in only a few weeks. Meanwhile, they had set up temporary headquarters in the milk room of a neighbor down the road.
Dane and Blaze climbed the bank toward Cheyenne’s house and saw her out weeding the garden. She had brought sandwiches and cookies over to the ranch to feed the workers at noon, but she’d left again before Dane had a chance to talk to her.
“Don’t pull out all the carrots again,” Blaze called to her in greeting.
She looked up, stood and walked to meet them. She didn’t smile or make a sarcastic reply.
“Uh-oh, looks like something’s wrong,” Blaze said loudly enough for her to hear. “What is it?”
When she reached them, she hugged Blaze. He hugged her back and gave Dane a “what’s-up?” frown over her head.
The olive undertones of Cheyenne’s face were tinged red from the heat and activity, and her black hair fell in moist tendrils across her forehead and neck. Her dark eyes were shadowed.
She released Blaze and turned to lead the way toward the shaded porch.
“Okay, out with it,” Dane said. “What’s wrong?”
Hideaway Page 24
