Letter to a Lonesome Cowboy

by Jackie Merritt

  She couldn’t worry about Mack’s regrets, anyway. She was leaving without a paycheck, which wouldn’t have been princely, in any case, but still would have been more than she had in her purse at the moment.

  “To hell with it,” she muttered. She wouldn’t ask Rand for that money if life itself depended on it.

  Taking off her robe, she folded it and laid it in the suitcase. It irritated her that they could be ready to leave in fifteen minutes if it weren’t for Mack’s clothes in the dryer. If money wasn’t so tight, she would go without them. But jackets and jeans were costly, and she was going to have to watch every penny.

  A wave of nausea struck her, and she sat on the edge of the bed. It’s only nerves, she thought while rubbing her tummy. Only the worse case of bad nerves she’d ever had. Why was she letting herself fall apart like this? Rand wasn’t her first disappointment, after all. And perhaps that letter arriving when it did was opportune. She’d been so worried about saying no to Rand when he mentioned marriage again, and now she wouldn’t have to.

  Thirty minutes later she was dressed, packed and impatiently waiting for Mack. She was certain she’d made no noise and wasn’t concerned that Rand, sleeping right next door, might have heard her. It occurred to her, however, that Mack might come stomping down the hall instead of being extraquiet, as she had asked.

  Besides, it was possible that he was in the laundry room waiting for his clothes to finish drying.

  Putting on her coat, she slung her purse over her shoulder and stealthily opened the door. Picking up her two suitcases, she set them down in the hall to slowly, soundlessly shut the door again. To make absolutely sure no one would hear her, she took off her pumps, shoved one in each pocket of her coat, took up her luggage again and traversed the hall in her hosiery.

  The laundry room light was on. Good, she thought, she’d been right about Mack being in there. But when she reached the doorway, the room was empty.

  Well, she hadn’t left the light on, she thought with intense aggravation. Couldn’t Mack ever do anything right? If he’d come down to check his clothes in the dryer, or even to take them back upstairs to stuff in his backpack, why hadn’t he turned off the light?

  She snapped it off, detoured to the kitchen to set down her luggage and then perched on a stool to wait for Mack. After five minutes she wondered what on earth was taking him so long. After another five minutes, her annoyance had doubled.

  “Darn you, Mack,” she whispered. “What are you doing up there?”

  Okay, she’d give him a few more minutes, she thought. But only a few. Then she would brave the stairs again and find out for herself what was taking so long.

  Another five minutes dwindled by, and then five more, only because she didn’t want this trip to start out bad, with Mack accusing her of being on his back about everything he did.

  But then she couldn’t twiddle her thumbs one more second, and she tiptoed to the stairs and silently ascended to the second floor. Again she counted doors to make sure she got Mack’s room. It was a hallway of doors, and it would be very easy to walk into the wrong room.

  It wasn’t the wrong room, but it was dark. Mack, dammit, you went back to sleep! Quickly she stepped inside, closed the door and switched on the light. The bed was in total disarray and Mack wasn’t in it! She stood there dumbfounded. If he wasn’t here and he wasn’t in the laundry room, where was he?

  And then she knew. He wasn’t going with her. He’d run away again!

  Her knees buckled and she grabbed hold of the dresser to keep from sinking to the floor. Running away to Montana was a far cry from running away in Montana. He knew nothing about the wilderness, nothing about camping; he would die out there!

  No, calm down. You can’t be right. He’s hiding somewhere, he wouldn’t leave the compound all alone.

  She knew there were unused bedrooms up here, she just didn’t know which doors to open. And he could have gone to the barn, or one of the storage sheds. There were many places in which to hide outside. Her mind raced, searching for some sign of what she should do next.

  Nothing came to her, nothing that made sense. Anger and fear collided in her system, bringing on another bout of nausea. This time it lingered while the reality of her situation tore at her flesh. She had no choice, none at all.

  No, that wasn’t true, she did have a choice. She could either wake Rand up now and tell him Mack was gone, or she could wait and do it in the morning.

  Suzanne nearly hyperventilated at that notion. She could not wait until morning! If Mack wasn’t just hiding on her, if he had actually left the compound, he could be miles away by then!

  Scrambling into her shoes, she ran from the room and down the stairs, forgetting completely about the sleeping men. Without stopping to knock she rushed into Rand’s room.

  “Mack’s gone,” she gasped. “He’s gone!”

  Sixteen

  Rand hadn’t been asleep very long and couldn’t immediately come awake. “What in hell’s going on?” he said, sounding grumpy over being disturbed.

  Suzanne flipped the wall switch and the ceiling light came on. “Mack’s gone. You…you have to help me. I don’t know where to look for him, what to do…” She was literally wringing her hands.

  He put a hand up to shield his eyes from the light. “Suzanne?” His foggy mind wondered why she was wearing her coat…and what was it she was saying about Mack? He sat up, put his feet on the floor and shook his head in an attempt to come to. “What time is it?”

  Suzanne couldn’t contain her anxiety. She swept over to Rand and knelt in front of him. “Rand, listen to me. Mack is gone.”

  “What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone where?”

  “He…I…” Oh, God, now she had to confess that she’d been planning to leave and had awakened Mack, and the whole ball of wax.

  Rand was becoming more alert, and taking in her coat again, as well as her hose and pumps. “Why are you dressed like that in the middle of the night?”

  “Every minute we talk, Mack could be getting farther from the ranch,” she said sharply. “I need your help. I need somebody’s help. I don’t know in which direction to start looking for him!” She grabbed his arm in desperation. “Are you grasping what I’m saying?”

  He was…finally. Parts of it, anyway, the part about Mack being gone, and the fearful panic in Suzanne’s voice. He took her by the shoulders. “How long has he been gone?”

  “Um…let me think. About thirty minutes, maybe a little longer. I’m not real sure because…”

  Rand cut in. “Then he can’t have gone far. Let me get into some clothes.” Suzanne stumbled to her feet. “You don’t have to leave, I’m wearing underwear.”

  She sighed. Would it matter if he weren’t? She’d seen, touched and kissed almost every inch of his body, just as he’d done to her. Modesty at this point seemed gratuitous.

  Still, she turned away and was facing the door when J.D. appeared, wearing jeans, an unbuttoned shirt and socks.

  “Sorry,” he said when he saw Suzanne, turning to go.

  “J.D.?” Rand was in his jeans and buttoning his shirt. “Come on in.”

  “This isn’t what you think,” Suzanne said. J.D. nodded at her, accepting her comment without question, then looked at Rand. “Freeway woke me. I heard someone running down the stairs and figured I’d better check it out.”

  “That was me,” Suzanne said. “I was looking for Mack. He’s gone, J.D.” She wiped at the tears that were beginning to blur her vision.

  J.D. cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying he left the ranch?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying. All I know is that he’s not in his room or in the laundry room.”

  The two men looked at each other and said almost simultaneously, “The laundry room?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said dully.

  “Make it a short one,” Rand said with chilling abruptness.

  His tone reminded Suzanne of why she’d been planning to leave at this l
ate hour. Her tears vanished as she sent him a defiant look. “I woke Mack and told him we were going home. I told him to pack his things, and he said he had clothes in the washer. That’s why I thought he might be in the laundry room when he wasn’t in his bedroom.”

  Rand gaped at her. “You were going to leave in the middle of the night? For God’s sake, why?”

  If J.D. hadn’t been there, she would have told him why. Instead, she said, stiffly, “I really don’t feel like talking about it right now.” She turned to J.D. “Do you think it’s possible that he’s merely hiding in the barn, or someplace like that? He didn’t say he wouldn’t go home with me, but I…I know he loves this place.”

  “Well, he’s not very old and it’s awfully dark out there. He probably didn’t go very far, Suzanne,” J.D. assured her. “Rand, I’m going upstairs to get my boots and jacket. I’ll give you a hand in looking for him.”

  “Thanks, J.D., appreciate it.”

  After J.D. had gone, Rand sat on the bed to yank on his own boots. Suzanne was pacing back and forth. He could see she was worried sick, and he couldn’t tell her she had no cause to worry. It was possible that Mack was merely staying out of sight in one of the outbuildings, hoping his sister would leave without him, but Rand didn’t think so. Mack wasn’t stupid, and he would know that Suzanne would roust the whole bunkhouse, if necessary, to find him. No, Mack wasn’t hanging around the compound. This could be serious.

  “Did he take any food with him?” Rand asked.

  Suzanne’s eyes widened, and she ran out of the room and down the hall. Rand got up from the bed, grabbed his jacket and gloves and followed.

  She was frantically opening cabinets when he caught up with her in the kitchen. “I can’t tell,” she wailed. “What would he take? Canned goods? There’s so much of it that it’s impossible to know if any is missing.”

  “How about bread?”

  She checked the huge bread box, and her shoulders slumped. “There might have been another loaf, but I really can’t remember.”

  Rand ardently hoped that the boy had taken something to eat with him, but he couldn’t pass that concern on to Suzanne. She had no idea what Mack could encounter out there, and he wasn’t going to enlighten her.

  J.D. came in, carrying two flashlights. “Did he take some food with him?” he asked.

  “I’m sure he did,” Rand said for Suzanne’s benefit. Behind her back, he shrugged at J.D. and mouthed, “Can’t tell.”

  “I checked the empty bedrooms upstairs,” J.D. said with a nod at Rand, indicating that he’d gotten his message. “Figured that was the place to start.”

  “Okay, let’s go check the outbuildings.” J.D. handed him one of the flashlights, and out they went.

  Suzanne sank onto one of the counter stools, put her face in her hands and wept. She had wondered if Mack ever did anything right many times, but now she was wondering that about herself. Pity for both of them nearly choked her, then she thought of their parents’ untimely deaths and sobbed even harder. She had taken Mack home with her after the double funeral, but had she shown him, unequivocally, that she wanted him in her home, that she loved him? He’d been only twelve, a lost little boy, and she and Les had been fighting. Obviously Mack had never felt as though he could talk to her about his innermost feelings, or he would have told her about his dream of becoming a cowboy.

  Maybe he’d tried, she thought sadly. Maybe he’d tried and she’d been too swamped with adult problems to listen to a boy’s dreams.

  But her problems had never been imaginary, she thought in defense of how she had related to Mack. The divorce had been very real and very traumatic. She’d finally been getting over it when she lost her job.

  Sighing, she got up for a tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose. She had felt sorry for herself long enough. She could at least put on a pot of coffee. J.D. and Rand might appreciate a cup of hot coffee when they came in. In her heart she was positive that Mack hadn’t left the compound, and that they would have him with them when they returned to the bunkhouse.

  Her brain wasn’t that sure, but in this case she preferred listening to her heart. After preparing the coffeepot, she went to her room and changed from her traveling clothes into jeans, a sweater and her loafers.

  Rand and J.D. met at the main corral. “He’s not in the barn,” J.D. said. “Freeway sniffed out every corner.” The mangy dog woofed and wagged his tail, as though saying, “Aren’t I a clever helper?”

  “The other buildings, either,” Rand said. “I had a feeling he wouldn’t be.”

  “He’s just a kid, and a city kid at that. I can’t believe he would go very far. Rand, it’s black as pitch in the woods, but I can’t see him taking off across the open fields. Even a city kid would know we’d find him easy enough in the fields.”

  “Not in the dark, we wouldn’t. That gives him till dawn to get wherever he’s going.”

  “Rand, he wouldn’t head for Granite Mountain, would he?” There was disquietude in J.D.’s voice.

  Rand shifted his weight uneasily. “I sure hope not.” He looked up at the sky, brilliant with stars. “It’s cold at night. Even colder on the mountain. Too bad we lost the chinook.” He shone the flashlight on his wristwatch. “It’s another three hours to dawn.”

  “Rand, what’s the problem between Mack and his sister?” J.D. asked quietly. “It has to be pretty serious for the boy to run off like this.”

  Rand’s lips stretched tightly across his teeth. “It’s my fault, J.D., the whole damned thing.” He couldn’t say more, couldn’t explain, and was glad that J.D. wasn’t the type of man to pry. Actually, it surprised him that J.D. had brought it up at all.

  “Well, I’ve got to give Suzanne the bad news sooner or later. Might as well go in and get it over with,” Rand said. “She’s probably half-crazy with worry by now.”

  They started walking to the bunkhouse with Freeway on their heels. “She’s going to be even more worried when you tell her Mack’s not in the compound,” J.D. said.

  “Yes, but it might help when I tell her the whole crew is going to go looking for him at first light.”

  “Might,” J.D. agreed.

  They went in through the laundry room door. “I smell coffee,” J.D. said.

  “She must have made a pot.”

  Suzanne heard them coming, and was waiting, expectant and tight as a drum, when they walked into the kitchen. Mack wasn’t with them. Her hand rose to splay at her throat. There was fear in her eyes. “You didn’t find him.”

  “No.” Rand suffered an emotional ache in his chest. Whatever she thought of him, he was in love with her. It wasn’t comforting knowledge. He didn’t want to spend the next year trying to forget her, as he had with Sherry.

  He kept his voice curt and impersonal, when he would have preferred a consoling tone. But he had taken enough risks with Suzanne. She had been planning to leave without so much as a simple goodbye, sneaking out in the night so she wouldn’t have to say goodbye. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able get over that, even if he did manage to forget the rest of it.

  He filled two mugs with coffee and handed one to J.D. His words were spoken to Suzanne. “We’ll start looking for him beyond the compound at first light. The whole crew.”

  “But…but he could be miles away by then.”

  Rand took a swallow of coffee. “We could ride right past him in the dark, Suzanne. It’s only sensible to begin the search in daylight.”

  “Yes,” she said unevenly. “I see what you mean. It’s just that…” She stopped herself. Insisting they start the search in the dark only proved that she was as out of her element here as Mack was. But that was what frightened her so. To her knowledge, and she was sure it was accurate, he had never spent one entire night outside by himself. Oh, he had stayed out late in Baltimore—much too late for a boy his age—but the city wasn’t strange to him. Montana was.

  She thought of the ranch’s isolation, of the miles and miles of unpopulated country su
rrounding them all, and shivered. How would Rand and the men even know in which direction to start looking? The woods, the fields, the mountains, where would they start?

  “J.D., you may as well go back to bed for a few hours,” Rand said.

  J.D. set his mug on the counter. He was nothing if not tactful, and it looked to him as though Rand would like to talk to Suzanne alone.

  “Think I’ll do that,” he said. “See you both later.”

  Suzanne managed a weak smile. She felt Rand’s eyes on her, and her own swung around to meet them. “You should lie down, too,” he told her. His gaze dropped to the mug in his hand. Looking at her hurt.

  She knew that standing, sitting or lying down, she would get no rest. Rand must know it, too, so his suggestion had to have been motivated by a wish to be alone. Away from her.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and started to leave, but she had to know something first.

  “Do you think you’ll find him?” she asked tremulously.

  He sucked in a long breath. He knew they would find him, but in what condition? How was he dressed? Did he have food with him, water? A blanket?

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “We’ll find him.”

  “Thank you for that,” she whispered, and left him alone.

  She’d been positive she wouldn’t rest when stretching out on her bed in her clothes, but she realized that she had dozed off when someone knocked on her door and she awakened with a start.

  Jumping up, she ran to open it. It was Rand.

  “We’re leaving now. It’s just starting to get light.”

  “But no one had breakfast! I should have—”

  “We managed just fine.” She looked so forlorn he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. It was a simple caress, just a gentle brushing of his fingertips against her cheek, but the second he did it he rued the impulse and drew his hand back. “Try not to worry too much,” he said gruffly, and turned on his heel and hastened down the hall.