“I didn’t send any texts lately. My daughter’s been playing with my phone, though. Maybe she accidently hit something.”
The message was no accident. “Where are you? Could someone else have used your phone?”
The woman let out an irritated huff. “We’re at O’Hare and our plane’s delayed, so I gave my daughter my phone to keep her occupied. A nice young girl started playing one of those silly games with her. I suppose she might have sent a text.”
My words tumbled over themselves. “Is she still there?”
“I … Let me look.” I waited a half a second. Her voice came from a little distance. “Honey? Where did that girl go?”
A child’s voice said something and the woman came back on. “I don’t see her.”
It felt like I had dropped into a pool of tepid water, disappointment closing over me. “What did she look like?”
The woman sounded concerned. “She was blonde, probably about twenty. She seemed so nice.”
O’Hare. Carly could be boarding a plane now. Or she could have just landed. She might be in a taxi or sitting in a restaurant. Where was she going? Was someone chasing her, or was she doing the pursuing? The answers drifted far from my grasp, and there was no way to pull them back to me. I took the woman’s information for Baxter’s investigator.
Carly had sent me a message to let me know she was okay. A coded message no one else would understand. I focused on what I knew: she must look good and healthy and relatively happy or no mother would allow her near her child. For now, that would have to do.
I stared up at the endless blue of the Nebraska sky and sent a prayer for Carly. She might be young, but she was strong and smart. I channeled Mom and decided to trust Carly. Plus, I had the added insurance of Baxter’s finest on her trail.
I pocketed the phone, patted Ted’s surprise, and pulled open the hospital doors. Aunt Tutti scurried across the lobby in her purple scrubs. She changed directions and charged up to me, grabbing my chin and inspecting my face. “Nice shiners.”
“I won’t need eyeliner for quite a while,” I said.
She chuckled. “It’s going to be purty when they turn green and yellow.”
“Guess I’ll forego the eye shadow, too.”
I tucked the sign under my arm, the two stakes pointing down, and hurried to Ted’s room.
No whiskers hid the healthy color in his cheeks. His eyes sparkled, and all that charm that held me—and Roxy—in such thrall oozed from him. My heart stuttered a bit at his good looks.
He beamed when I walked in the door. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”
I would let him go first.
He whistled when he got a good look at my raccoon eyes. “Wow. Did Rope punch you, or Nat?”
“The steering wheel.”
“Wait until you see this.” He sat up tall and whisked the blanket from his legs. His forehead crinkled in concentration and his jaw clenched.
I watched with fascination, focusing on the big toe’s yellowed nail. Did Roxy get grossed out like I did when Ted didn’t trim his toenails?
Slowly, the toe bent down and labored back up. Ted let out a whoosh of air and grinned. “How about that?”
“Congratulations!” Not that I believe in signs from the universe, as Mom tends to, or believe that God has my back, as Louise claims, but it did seem to confirm that I had made the right decision. It would make life easier for both of us if Ted could walk again.
I pulled my surprise from the back pocket of my jeans and laid it carefully on his bedside table.
The smile slipped from his face as his eyes rested on the stack of folded papers encased in a light-blue page. “What is this?” He didn’t touch the bundle.
I’d expected a thudding heart, tears tugging at my eyes, shaking hands. Instead, I felt perfectly calm. “I’m not asking for anything more than my fair share.”
“You can’t.” He stared at the papers as if they’d bite him. “I don’t own the ranch.”
“You can buy out my share and make it easier for everyone.”
“Dahlia said you’d stay until the election. She made you a deal. You can’t renege.”
“I can’t vouch for what Dahlia thought, but I never made a deal with her.”
“But the ranch is all you know. You can’t make a living if you want to stay in Hodgekiss. You’d hate living anywhere else.”
I nodded in agreement. “It tears me up to leave Frog Creek.” But I needed to find my own place. Frog Creek was never really mine.
“What about all our years together? You can’t leave me now.”
“You’ll be fine. You just hate the idea that I made the choice instead of you. You’ll get used to it.”
He sounded desperate. “How can you leave me when I’m laid out like this?”
I pointed at his yucky feet. “You’re on the road to recovery. No doubt Roxy will be glad to nurse you.”
“Give me a little more time,” he pleaded.
I tipped my head toward the papers. “Have your lawyer look it over and he can call Annette Stromsberg.”
Now that the pleas didn’t work, he folded his arms in a commanding way. “I’ll give you a few days to think about it. If you leave Frog Creek, the only thing for you is to work for Bud and Twyla at the Long Branch.”
“We’ll see.” I stepped back and propped the campaign sign on the chair below the TV. I had an overpowering craving for a greasy cheeseburger and giant basket of onion rings, and I planned on rushing to Ben’s Burger Barn.
Ted couldn’t read the sign until I moved toward the door. I was already two strides down the hall when I heard his bellow of outrage.
Ted didn’t seem to appreciate my recycling skills. With a few strokes of a paintbrush, I’d cleverly repurposed all of Dahlia’s signs. I kind of liked the new look.
VOTE FOR KATE FOX
GRAND COUNTY SHERIFF
TRUSTED AND EXPERIENCED
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SHANNON BAKER lived for twenty years in the Nebraska Sandhills, where cattle outnumber people by more than 50 to 1. Baker was named the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers 2014 Writer of the Year. She now makes her home in sunny Tucson. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
STRIPPED BARE
Copyright © 2016 by Shannon Baker
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Getty Images
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-8544-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-7653-8545-1 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9780765385451
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First Edition: September 2016
Stripped Bare Page 26
