Rough Creek

by Kaki Warner

  Dalton reached across the truck console and laced his fingers through hers. “He’ll do fine.”

  The warm, strong fingers gripping hers felt like a lifeline to Raney. On reflex, she put her other hand over both of theirs to anchor him to her. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Aren’t you nervous?”

  “Not when I know what I’m doing and I’m prepared.” He gave her that crooked smile. “Think of it as a social outing. You’ll know half of the people there. Be fun to catch up.”

  It suddenly occurred to Raney how awkward this might be for Dalton, seeing people he hadn’t heard from since he’d left for prison. And with that thought came the realization that she wasn’t nervous about how Dalton and Rosco would do, but about what others might do when they saw the man who had caused the death of the county commissioner’s nephew.

  An image popped into her mind—Dalton facing those two bullies outside the Roadhouse. He’d looked so alone. So resigned. Like he knew he’d be facing that kind of hostility for the rest of his life.

  Anger shot through Raney. Not this time. She would make certain of it.

  “Relax, sweetheart.”

  “I am relaxed.” Now that she had a plan, she actually was.

  “Then why are you squeezing my hand so hard?”

  She grinned over at him. “I don’t want you to get away. Not before you do what you said you would.” She wondered if he remembered he’d promised her a ride she’d never forget.

  By the rush of color up his neck, he did.

  By the snort from the backseat, Alejandro guessed, too.

  Balance happily restored, Raney settled back for the rest of the drive.

  Even though they arrived well before the competition began, the stands were already half-filled. They found a parking place near the bleachers and not too far from a tall pole with a speaker on it. Guaranteed to be noisy and busy. Good training for Rosco. After they unloaded the horses and tied them to the trailer, Raney pulled Alejandro aside and reminded him about the fight outside the Roadhouse.

  “I don’t want it happening again, Alejandro. You watch his back.”

  “Sí, Jefe.”

  “And if it looks like trouble, find me. Or better yet, send Uno. ¿Tú comprende?”

  He gave a small, knowing smile. “Sí. I will keep su novio safe, Jefe.”

  Raney didn’t correct him. After all, he had heard their conversation and had seen them holding hands. “Thank you, my friend. I can always count on you.”

  “Sí. Always.”

  Once the horses were saddled, Raney took Uno to the stands, while Dalton and Alejandro rode to the arena to work out the kinks from being trailered.

  The arena was divided in two by a portable metal fence. The competition would take place at one end. The other was an open area where horses could be exercised and people might be wandering around. Often, horses just starting out were tied close to the competition area and near the judges’ stand. A busy spot with a lot going on—the boom of the loudspeaker, the applause of the onlookers, horses and cattle working on one side of the fence, and exercising horses moving around behind them. It would be interesting to see how Rosco handled it.

  While they waited for the competition to start, Raney and Uno hunted up the porta-potties and the concession area. After buying a bag of popcorn and cold drinks, they went to the stands rising on one side of the arena.

  Pausing at the front, Raney scanned the rows for a place to sit and for people she knew. The first face she recognized wasn’t happy. County Commissioner Adkins, heading her way, fists clenched at his sides.

  Before the commissioner had gone into politics, he had been in real estate—mostly dealing with oil and gas leases—and had worked with her father on a few lease projects. Raney had met him years ago and had seen him several times since, but they had never been more than distant acquaintances. She guessed by his expression as he stomped toward her and Uno, that was about to change.

  “Was that Dalton Cardwell I saw you come in with?” he demanded.

  “Good morning, Commissioner,” Raney answered with a polite smile.

  “Are you here with Dalton Cardwell?”

  “I am. He’s training a promising colt for me.”

  “You know he killed Jim Bob.”

  “I know he took responsibility for his part in that terrible tragedy and went to jail for it. I’m so sorry for your loss. Jim Bob is sorely missed.” She tried to inject sympathy into her tone, although she doubted the commissioner would be mollified.

  He wasn’t. “His part? Are you saying my nephew had a hand in his own death?”

  “Not at all. But since there was never a trial and all the facts weren’t made public, we’ll never know for certain.” Dropping a hand onto Uno’s shoulder, she started to steer him around the commissioner. “Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

  The older man sidestepped to block their way. “Cardwell also put two of Jim Bob’s cousins in the hospital. Did you know that?”

  “Yes. I was there. I regret that Jim Bob’s cousins were hurt, but they did start the fight and take the first swing.”

  “So say you. Deputy Langers says different.”

  Raney gave up on the niceties. “So says a dozen videos on the Internet, Commissioner. Look them up. You’ll see exactly what happened and what Deputy Langers did about it. Which was nothing. Toby Langers has a long-standing grudge against Cardwell. It led him to make an error in judgment that has put a big kink in his career. I’d hate to see him talk you into making the same mistake.”

  “Is that a threat, Miss Whitcomb?”

  Raney showed her teeth in what she hoped was a smile. “Of course not, Commissioner. But it’s obvious you feel Cardwell’s time in prison wasn’t enough to compensate for your loss. I understand that. Losing a loved one is hard. I still struggle over my father’s death. But I’m trying to move on. I suggest you do, too. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  By the time she and Uno found seats near the top of the bleachers, she was shaking with anger. And adrenaline. And the urge to hit something. Instead, she took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to Uno. “I think I’ve made an enemy.”

  “No es importante, Jefe. Senor Dalton and mi padre will protect you.”

  She fought the urge to ruffle his dark hair. “Of course they will. They’re the bravest men I know. But I don’t want to bother them about this right now, so let’s not mention it to them, ¿tú comprende?”

  He looked uncertain, but nodded.

  “Any popcorn left? It really smells good.”

  While they sat munching popcorn, the stands slowly filled. Raney saw no sign of the commissioner and hoped he’d left. She did see several people she knew, and smiled and waved, but made no effort to join them. She was still too worked up to be pleasant company.

  The show started with the usual fanfare—music blasting over the loudspeakers, clapping, a cheerfully exuberant announcer introducing the judges and the names of each horse and rider as they came into the arena to make their two-and-a-half-minute run at the cows.

  Raney studied Rosco. Dalton had tied him on the end of the dividing fence close by the judges’ stand. He definitely perked up when all the hoopla started, but didn’t seem overly agitated. After a while, his head dropped a little, but he still stayed focused on the doings on the other side of the rail fence. As the show progressed, Raney noticed several trainers she recognized talking to Dalton and checking out Rosco. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. It was a little early for offers. Or maybe it was just curiosity about a new face in their midst.

  Raney chatted with Uno from time to time and occasionally he chatted back. Definitely his father’s son. But she could see his interest was down in the exercise area with his father and Dalton, so after a while, she relented and sent him down there, while she continued to monitor Rosco from the stan
ds. And Dalton.

  He looked magnificent. The snug jeans emphasizing the long, muscular strength of his legs. The sway of his wide shoulders as Rosco moved into a lope. The tilt of his head and the suppleness of his broad, strong back as he rounded the turns. Dalton was born to the saddle and his athletic grace drew the attention of every woman sitting near Raney.

  Rosco seemed to be doing well, too, and loped through his exercise laps without any signs of nervousness, despite the noise and action around him. Slowly, Raney allowed herself to relax and enjoy the show. Several friends dropped by. A few asked about Dalton, but most were more interested in Rosco. Raney downplayed both. She didn’t want interest in Rosco to build too fast. And she didn’t want interest in her and Dalton to build at all. Not that she was ashamed of him, but after the fiasco with Trip, she’d had her fill of speculation about her personal life.

  When the announcer called a break to change out the cows, she saw Dalton wave to get her attention, then point at his wrist, where a watch would be if he wore one. She checked her phone, saw it was nearing time for Rosco’s turn to work cows in the small pen, and left the stands. As she went around behind the arena to the practice pens, she noticed several trainers heading that way, too.

  Rosco’s first cow was easy. Alejandro and Big Mike did their part keeping the cattle bunched together after Dalton cut his choice from the herd. Rosco kept his head down and his mind focused, and after a few feints and a halfhearted attempt to get past him, the cow gave up.

  The second heifer was deeper inside the herd, so Rosco had to go into the herd without scattering them, bring out the one Dalton wanted, then keep her away from the others until Dalton put his right hand on his withers to signal him to stop. He did okay, but misread one of the cow’s moves and almost had a miss. The third heifer didn’t even put up a fight. About what you’d expect from cattle that had done this exercise a dozen times. Still, they made Rosco look good, which made Dalton look good, which made the other trainers take notice, and made Raney so proud it was hard not to jump up and down. A credible first showing.

  The rest of the show was anticlimactic. Raney had signed Rosco up for only one practice session, so there was nothing left to do but watch. They stayed to see who made the finals, offered turn-back help but had no takers, then loaded up and headed out before traffic piled up at the exit gate.

  Raney was so exhausted she fell asleep halfway home.

  * * *

  * * *

  That set the pattern for the next two shows, although Raney missed both. With each outing, Rosco improved, and Dalton gained a little more respect from the other trainers.

  They were a close-knit group. Horse trainers, first, but businessmen, too, and despite being fierce competitors, they helped one another out when needed. Alejandro and Big Mike drew a lot of attention as a helper team, and several times during the two shows, helped other riders.

  Raney heard all about it secondhand. Things were getting too hectic at home for her to attend. Grady had left but promised to return the first week of September. He and Joss seemed to have reached an understanding, although Joss hadn’t shared the details with Raney. Mostly, her sister reorganized the baby’s room daily, complained about her ginormous belly after every meal, and wore a pinched look of terror when she thought no one was looking. It didn’t help that Mama was still galloping around the mountains in Washington State out of cell range, and no one knew how to reach KD.

  On a stifling Monday morning in August, Joss and Raney were in the office, making a list of things they’d need on hand for when Joss brought the baby home, when Raney’s cell buzzed. Seeing who it was, she put the phone on speaker.

  “About time you called, Mama. We can’t locate KD and Joss—”

  “Mama,” Joss yelled, snatching the phone from Raney’s hand. “You better get back here quick! The baby’s coming and I—”

  “Right now? You’re in labor?”

  “No, but I’m already dilated two centimeters and the doctor says it’ll be soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Within two weeks. Three, at most. Maybe four.”

  Mama let out a deep breath that sounded like a hurricane gust through the phone. “Stop worrying. I’ll be home tomorrow. I’m on the way to Seattle now and will fly out first thing. But I’m in the mountains and may lose coverage, so don’t panic if I cut out. Now, who is this Grady person who’s been staying at the house? I got your voice mail, but it was all garbled. Is he still there?”

  Raney could hear Mama’s voice starting to fade in and out. Before she lost her altogether, she grabbed the phone from Joss. “We’ll talk about all that later, Mama. You’re starting to break up. Are you still coming in on the shuttle from Lubbock to Gunther?”

  A muddled answer, but it sounded like yes.

  “Text me your flight number and arrival time as soon as you can. And how to reach KD. We can’t find her.”

  Mama started to answer when another rush of static drowned her out. All they could make out was “Germany” before the call ended.

  Raney looked at Joss. “Germany? Did she say KD is in Germany?”

  Joss started to tear up. “I don’t care about KD. I just need Mama to get here. I can’t have this baby without her.”

  “You’ll have to,” Raney said drily. “Mama’s too old to do it for you.”

  “God, I knew this would happen!”

  While Joss rummaged through the desk for Kleenex, Raney Googled army bases in Germany and read there were approximately thirty-six of them. Approximately? Shouldn’t they know how many they had? “The biggest army installation in Germany is a training base in a place I can’t pronounce,” she told Joss. “It has six thousand soldiers and trains them in all sorts of stuff. Including tanks.”

  “KD’s too claustrophobic for tanks,” Joss said, and blew her nose.

  “If she was that claustrophobic, they wouldn’t have let her in. Maybe they moved her there because of her size. Or lack of it.”

  KD was the smallest of the Whitcomb girls and probably the fiercest. The high school basketball coach said she was too short to play defense and would never be able to block a shot. KD showed him she didn’t need to block, as long as she was fast enough to steal the ball from under the tall shooters. She made all-state her senior year. When KD set her mind to something, she never quit. She wouldn’t have made it through West Point Cadet Basic Training if she gave up easily.

  “Forget about KD,” Joss said. “She’d never get back in time for the baby, even if they’d let her come.”

  “You’ll be too busy to care anyway. We’ll send her lots of pictures. It’ll give new meaning to crotch shots.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Raney agreed. “Glad it won’t be my crotch. But look on the bright side. You’ll be trending in an hour.”

  “No way! You are not putting any pictures of me or my crotch on the Internet!”

  “You sure? You’d be an instant sensation.”

  “Raney! Stop it! You’re upsetting the baby!”

  “Okay, okay,” Raney said with a laugh. She wondered what Joss would do after the baby came and she no longer had her pregnancy to hide behind. Her smile faded. “I hope Len is able to come.”

  She had concerns about her older sister. Len hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts. Not that unusual, since her big sister was always headed somewhere—bridge at the country club, tennis league, PTA, being a docent at the museum, driving her kids around. She was a busy lady. But lately, it felt like her sister was brushing her off. It made Raney wonder if Len and Ryan were having trouble again. It wasn’t easy being married to a surgeon as career-focused as Ryan was. And with the kids getting older and becoming more independent, Len probably felt at loose ends.

  “We should call her,” she said on impulse. “Make her come for a long visit. Maybe when Mama gets back.”

/>   “Better call soon, then. You know how Len has to plan every move she takes.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “Have you seen her lists?”

  Raney had always been closer to her older sister because their age gap was shortest. Len was only three years older than Raney, while Joss was five years younger, and KD was younger by eight years. Raney had been an attendant in Len’s wedding, and being seventeen, had thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever seen. She had also been in the waiting room when Jake was born two years later, then again when Len’s daughter, Kendra, came two years after Jake.

  Then Daddy died a few months later, and she and Len both got busy and drifted apart, although their paths still crossed several times a year. But that separation had given Raney a new perspective. Over time, she had been able to see the subtle changes the years had brought to Len and Ryan’s marriage. Len had always been the golden girl through school. First in everything she’d tried. But once Ryan finished his surgical residency, she had dropped to second place in his life, behind her husband’s budding surgical career.

  Since then, Raney had noted the restlessness, the poorly hidden anxiety that had honed her sister down to a thin shadow of the beautiful, vivacious girl she had adored. Raney missed that Len. It made her sad and cynical, reinforcing all her doubts about marriage being the key to her own personal happily-ever-after.

  Although, with Dalton . . .

  “I’ll call her tonight,” she decided, and reminded herself to make sure Len’s room was ready. “Thank goodness we turned KD’s bedroom into the nursery rather than Len’s. Lord knows when the army will give KD leave to visit.”

  Joss sighed and pressed a palm against her back. “I really don’t care if either one of them gets here in time. I just want this baby out of me. And soon.”