by Carolina Mac
“Uh huh. That’s what I thought. See where their weaknesses are when they compete. Then we can work harder on the rough spots.”
“While y’all are working on their skills, I’m going to ride down the road and look for Buster.”
“You think Swain might have dropped him off like he said?”
“All along I been thinking they did something to Buster to keep him quiet,” said Jack, “but what if they didn’t?”
“It’s worth another look,” I said. “Hope you find something.”
Chuck and Rip were right on time at nine for their training lesson and before we started, I talked to them about going into a couple of rodeos to see if their scores had improved.
“Oh, yeah, I want to do that, Logan,” said Rip. “Would you be there, like coaching us?”
“Yep, that’s the idea. We’ll test the waters. See where you score big and where you don’t, then we’ll work on the weak points before we try again.”
“Yahoo,” hollered Chuck. “Can’t wait to try.”
Tate Residence.
JACK saddled up and rode Slick down the road towards the Tate place. It was a mystery what had happened to Buster and all along he’d figured Swain had got rid of Buster after Presto was stolen, but what if he hadn’t? It had been bothering him and for his own piece of mind he had to be sure.
Clopping along close to the side of the road, Jack kept his eyes on the ditch for the two miles in between the McKenna Ranch and the Tate place. Nothing caught his eye.
He passed the laneway into Tate’s little goat farm and continued on a ways past and still nothing. He pulled on the reins and turned Slick around. “Where did Buster walk when Micky Swain let him out?” He talked to the horse. “If Buster was drunk—like he probably was—let’s see where he walked to get to the house.”
Both sides of the short laneway were heavily treed and spring growth had filled in all available spots with scrub bushes and high weeds. Jack dismounted, tied Slick to a tree branch and began at the road searching through the bush on the right hand side of the lane.
“You’re not on that side, Buster.”
He went back to the road and started again on the left side and he almost missed it. A boot sticking out from under a bush. Jack pulled back the foliage and there was Buster, his head against a rock.
Not wanting to do it, Jack leaned down and touched Buster’s neck and he was cool but not cold. Not dead. He whipped out his cell and called 911, then he called Logan.
“Hey, Jacky. How’s the search going?”
“Found him, Logy. He’s almost dead. Come over and wait for the ambulance with me.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Three minutes later, Logan parked on the road so he wouldn’t block the lane and ran to where Jack was pointing. “I didn’t move him. Looks like he might have hit his head on that rock. There’s dried blood on the rock and on the weeds.”
“Good job, Jacky. Maybe you got here just in time.”
“I hope so. After finding him, I’d hate for him to die in the same hospital his mother is in.”
“That would be terrible bad.”
Minutes later the ambulance arrived, and the same two paramedics who had taken Mrs. Tate to Preston Hospital took care of Buster. “His pulse is weak,” said the one. “We’d better hurry.”
They strapped him to a backboard in case he’d injured his back or his neck when he fell, then carried him to the ambulance.
Jack and I fed the goats and headed home. We’d go see how Buster was doing later when Clay was up.
McKenna Ranch.
CLAY was sitting on the porch smoking when Jack and I got back to the ranch. Jacky put his horse in the corral then sat on the porch with Clay and told him how he’d found Buster.
Clay was all smiles hearing the good news. I didn’t like his color and though I had no medical training, I thought Clay looked worse than he had the day before.
“Did you take your meds?” I asked.
“Uh huh. But I didn’t eat anything. I feel kinda sick.”
“We should have a doctor look at you again when we go to see Buster and Mrs. Tate.”
Clay nodded and him agreeing so quickly was a definite sign that he felt like a pile of shit.
“I’ll get you a ginger ale,” I said and headed into the kitchen. Before I got to the fridge, my cell was ringing.
“Fiona?”
“Hey, Logan. Would you have dinner with me tonight? I think we should talk.”
“What about?”
“Important things. I made a reservation at the Preston Club.”
“You’re kidding, right? I don’t have clothes for that place.”
“What about the suit you had for your Daddy’s funeral?”
“Do I want to dress up just to eat?”
“Come on, Logan. It’s not that big a deal. Please?”
I let out a breath, not wanting to wear a suit, not wanting to eat dinner with Fiona, and not wanting to leave Clay.
“Dinner only. Clay isn’t doing well and I’m not happy being away from him.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
I’m not telling her about Buster.
Preston Hospital.
BUSTER was in intensive care when we arrived at the hospital and he hadn’t regained consciousness. The nurse told me they’d sewed up the gash in Buster’s head and they were pumping him full of fluids. They were hopeful.
One piece of good news—Buster was no longer missing. Even though he would probably be arrested when he woke up, he wasn’t dead.
Clay stayed in the ICU and sat with Bonnie Sue while Jack and I went upstairs to drop in on Mrs. Tate.
She was a lot better today, sitting up and smiling. “Jacky, thank you for finding my Buster.” She gave the bedrail a whack with her fist. “When they let me out of this stupid bed later, I can go see him.”
“That’s great, Mrs. Tate,” said Jack. “We fed the goats while we were at your place.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait to get out of here and take care of my babies. I miss them so much.”
CLAY sat beside Bonnie Sue’s bed waiting for her to open her eyes. He studied her pretty face and wondered if she could be the right person for him. He hadn’t realized how much he liked her until she almost died.
When she finally opened her eyes and saw him sitting beside her, she tried to smile.
“Hey, are you doing better?” he asked.
“I think so. Were you here before?”
Clay nodded.
“I thought you were.”
He could hardly hear her talking she was so weak.
“Thanks for coming, Clay. Are you okay?”
“Getting a checkup today. I’m okay.”
“You can’t play your guitar.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t cry, girl. It ain’t that bad.”
“Is Harper in jail?”
“She couldn’t raise the bail,” said Clay.
“Good. I hope they never let her out.” Bonnie Sue closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
BEFORE we left the hospital, I corralled Clay’s doctor and he took a minute to examine Clay’s wounded arm.
“How have you been feeling, Clay?” He looked Clay in the eye wanting the truth.
“Not so hot.”
“Didn’t think so. You’ve got some infection going on now. Were you resting like I told you to?”
“Most of the time.”
Doctor Knowles scowled and turned to face me. “I’m cleaning up the arm and keeping him overnight. Y’all can come for him tomorrow.”
“Aw, that’s no good,” said Clay. “I don’t want to stay in the hospital again.”
Doctor Knowles held up a hand. “I want to start a new, stronger antibiotic and monitor the results. Best if I do it here where I can see what’s happening. No more protesting.”
We waited until Clay settled in his room and stopped complaining about staying overnight. Jack bought a couple of music mag
azines from the gift shop and put them on the nightstand. When the new drug hit Clay, he was ready to sleep. We left and headed for the sheriff’s office.
Sheriff’s Office. Preston.
SHERIFF Tucker glanced up as we entered his office and didn’t look pleased to see us. “You boys here again? I sent Ivan up to the trailer park and he didn’t get anything out of Micky Swain. I can’t arrest people with no evidence.”
“We were able to gather a little more information for you, Sheriff,” I said, “if you’re open to hearing it.”
The sheriff pounded his desk with his fist and snarled at me. “Wish you boys would stop snooping around and let me handle this mess. I know what I’m doing and y’all are amateurs.” He pointed a stubby finger and yelled at us, “Y’all are going to get into trouble y’all can’t get out of.”
“We’re not messing in your case,” I said. “All we did was pay a friendly visit to Paul Silverstone, and he told us Bobby Paisley was in on the kidnapping scheme with the rest of them.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Bobby Paisley?”
“Uh huh. His job was to find a truck big enough to haul Presto. Bobby recruited Doyle Hutton and his cattle truck and when Doyle didn’t have a helper, Bobby picked up Buster Tate to help Doyle.”
“Interesting.” Still red in the face, the sheriff was paying attention and making a few notes. “Any other amazing facts y’all uncovered?”
“We think this is an important one, Sheriff. Carson Wagoner who masterminded the whole plot is married to Micky Swain and they are a professional con team.”
“Silverstone told y’all this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I better go have another chat with him.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
Broken Spur Roadhouse.
WE stopped into the Spur to tell Miss Jane the good news about Buster and how happy Mrs. Tate was that Jacky found her son. We sat at the bar to talk to her and she poured us free drafts while Jack told her the story.
“I’m so happy Buster is found—purely for Mrs. Tate’s sake. I’m sure the sheriff will have a few things to say to Buster when he gets better. He did a bad thing helping the kidnappers.”
“People do all kinds of stuff for money,” I said.
“Where’s Clay?” asked Miss Jane. “Is he at the ranch resting?”
“Umm… he had a checkup on his arm and Doc Knowles kept him at the hospital.”
Miss Jane blinked. “Is he worse? He must be if they kept him overnight. I’m going over there as soon as Hank gets here.”
“He’ll appreciate the company,” I said. “He was sleeping when we left.”
McKenna Ranch.
JACK and I worked all afternoon with Clint and Jay getting things caught up around the ranch. A lot of our regular work had been neglected running around chasing after people trying to take us down and take our money.
Funny how quiet our life had been when we were poor. Nobody had any interest in us before we had money.
After a beer and a quick shower, I checked my closet to see what I was wearing for this important dinner with Fiona. Jack sat on the end of my bed and watched me get ready for the date.
“I don’t want a date with Fiona,” I said. “I don’t want to wear a suit, and I don’t want to go to the Preston Club.”
Jacky chuckled. “What do you want to do, Logan?”
“I want to watch a game with you and toss back a few cold ones.”
“I’m for that,” said Jack, “but she told you this was important.”
“Why couldn’t she just come here and tell me what was so important? This is pissing me off, Jacky.”
“I can tell. Hope it’s worth all the stress she’s causing you, or you’ll be madder than ever.”
“So true.”
The Preston Club.
I checked my watch as I locked up the truck and it was a few minutes after seven when I arrived at the club. Doctor Lonnigan was already seated at our reserved table and the hostess showed me where to go. The dining room was packed with the elite of Preston, all dressed up for no good reason.
“Hi,” was all I could think to say to her as I sank down into the leather chair opposite Fiona. “Been a busy day.” She was dressed up in a sexy black dress and wearing jewelry. I’d never seen her in a dress before and she’d never worn perfume.
She smiled and said, “I’m glad you could make it, Logan. You look amazing in that suit.”
“Hope I never have to wear it again,” I mumbled.
“You might,” she giggled and winked at me. “If you get married.”
“Married? I’m years away from getting married. Might never happen.”
The server came and took our drink order and I could hardly wait to chug down my first one. Sitting in this fancy room with someone I didn’t want to be with was playing havoc with my nervous system.
“What’s this important thing you couldn’t tell me on the phone?”
“Let’s wait until after we eat.” Fiona smiled at me again and gave me that look like she knew something I didn’t.”
When had I ever wanted to get away from a woman so badly? Never?
My first beer arrived, and I immediately ordered another.
Fiona raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
At that point I wondered if I was expected to pay for this dinner that was bound to be expensive. It wasn’t my idea to eat here. Why should I pay?
“What are you thinking, Logan. You’re deep in thought.”
“Uh huh. Just wondering what this dinner was going to cost me. A rational thought don’t you think?”
“A rude thought.” Fiona’s smile vanished. “I sensed you’d be pleased I made the first move and asked you out.”
“I usually like to do my own asking.”
Her face fell. “This conversation isn’t going the way I hoped it would.”
“What were you hoping for, Fiona? I don’t understand why you brought me here.”
“I wanted our first date to take place somewhere special. That’s why. It’s important to begin a relationship in a memorable way.”
“A relationship?”
“I wanted to wait until after dinner, but since we’re already talking about it, I’ll put my cards on the table.” She reached over and put her hand on top of mine. “I want a relationship with you, Logan. You’re smart, attractive and ambitious. I think we could do great things together.”
I shook my head unable to form a sentence.
“You’re shaking your head. Does that mean no?”
“I have to go to the men’s room.” I tossed my white cloth napkin onto my chair and headed for the washroom sign far in the distance. After relieving myself, I took a long time washing my hands and staring into the wall-to-wall mirror.
What am I going to say to her?
On the way back to the table from the bathroom, I was focused on thinking of an appropriate way to say no to Fiona without making her cry in public or worse. Not looking to right or left as I moved through the tables of diners, I was startled back to reality by a voice from my past.
“Hello, Logan.”
I stopped beside her table, my heart pounding in my chest and dizziness rushing to my head. “Hi, Linda. Nice to see you.”
Fight or flight and I chose flight. I hurried back to my table and sat down hoping Linda didn’t see who I was with.
“Your face is flushed, Logan. Do you feel alright?”
“Actually, no I don’t, Fiona. I’m feeling sick and I need to go home. I’m not feeling well at all.”
“I should drive you.”
“I’ll drive myself. I need to go home and lie down.”
“I’ll follow you home.”
I stood up. “No. I’m going home alone.” I opened my wallet and tossed down an estimate of what the drinks might be costing up to that point.
I left the Preston Club and hurried to the parking lot thinking Fiona might be right on my heels.
She was
like the glue you couldn’t get off your fingers no matter how hard you tried.
McKenna Ranch.
JACK was stretched out on the sofa watching a game when I got home from Preston. I couldn’t remember when I was ever so thankful to get home from a date.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge, tossed my suit jacket onto the back of a kitchen chair and joined him in front of the TV.
He grinned and said, “You’re back early. Want to tell me all about your hot date?”
“No thanks. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Good enough.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Wednesday, April 22nd.
McKenna Ranch.
I stared at the eggs I’d cooked for myself and Jack knowing in my gut I couldn’t eat anything without hurling.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“Not hungry.”
“Tell me about the date from hell,” said Jack. “You were back so fast I’m guessing you didn’t even eat dinner.”
“I didn’t.”
Jack finished his breakfast, reached for my plate and started on my eggs while he waited for my horror story to unfold. I wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come. I stared at my coffee not knowing where to start.
Jack jumped up and popped down two more slices of bread. “I’m making more toast. Want some?”
“I’m okay,” I said and started spitting out my story. “Fiona lured me there to tell me she wanted to have a relationship, and the Preston Club was supposed to be like our first big date or something.”
“An expensive date.”
“I didn’t get to see the menu.”
“And you said ‘no, but we can be friends’?” Jack grinned at me as he grabbed his toast when it popped up.
“Nope, I said no.”
“You seem too down for just a brush off. What really happened?” Jack was our resident expert on relationships. He’d had more girlfriends in his twenty-three years than Clay and I put together. He slathered his toast with butter and then a layer of peanut butter.
“I saw Linda at the Preston Club.”
“Uh huh. Now we’re getting to the down and dirty.”
“She called out to me from her table and said hello.”