She tossed her cosmetic bag onto the mattress. It missed and hit the floor.
“Mom?” Timmy’s voice piped from the next room.
She stuck her head around the door. “No worries. I just dropped something onto the floor.”
Her eyes moved to Seb, who was sitting next to him on the couch.
Seb set down his copy of Field & Stream and shot her a suspicious look. It was almost as if he thought that if he let her out of his sight, she might pack up Timmy and leave. Which was not to say that she wasn’t tempted to do exactly that. But it would only exacerbate an already volatile situation. She just needed to buck up and accept that Seb was going to be part of their lives going forward whether she liked it or not.
As for the rest—facing the Hunts, telling her grandfather, figuring out a visitation schedule for Seb and Timmy—she’d just have to take it one day at a time, one hour at a time, really, because it wasn’t going to be easy to make it through the evening. Once she finished unpacking, she and Timmy (and Seb, she supposed, since he seemed to be sticking to them like glue) would walk up to the main house for the big meet-and-greet with his parents, where they’d be forced to act like one big happy family.
Funny that. She used to dream of dinner at the Hunts’ when she was a kid. She would imagine all the interesting conversations, the good-natured teasing, and the mouth-watering meals shared around the big oak table in the massive dining room at the back of the house. It was a world apart from supper in the kitchen with her dad and grandfather tossing barbs at each other, while passing around a take-and-bake casserole from the grocery store. Of course, the feud made it impossible for her to ever publicly associate with the Hunts. They were the enemy, never to be treated as friends. But she had never applied that rule to Seb and Steven.
Before anything else, she needed to change out of the clothes she had worn home from the hospital. She pushed aside the top items in her suitcase and dug deep to find a clean shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. Her fingers closed around a cotton cardigan as something soft moved against her skin. She pulled back her hand and looked down at a spider tiptoeing along her right arm.
Goose bumps pricked her flesh.
“Seb.” Her voice wobbled somewhere between a scream and a gasp.
Boots pounded across the floor.
Seb stepped into the room. The color drained from his face as his eyes fixed on her outstretched arm and the spider’s long legs tapping against her skin. He took a step closer. “Looks like a black widow. Let me see if I see if I can coax it to move onto my hand.”
“No,” she whispered. But he didn’t seem to hear. She held her breath as he placed his open palm onto the crook of her arm and waited. Time seemed to stop as the spider paused, its eight legs suddenly still. Her heart pounded, and a bead of sweat dropped from her forehead onto her frozen arm.
With his left hand, Seb reached for a paperback book on the nightstand by the bed.
The black widow edged forward, considering its options.
“C’mon, buddy. Climb on over,” Seb said.
The spider flailed its antennae to test the new surface. It must have met with its approval because it slowly crept across Seb’s fingers and onto his palm.
He tilted his arm, nudging the creature toward the book he was holding in his other hand. It was slow going, but he didn’t flinch. The quivering bulbous ball, with its small head and clicking mandibles, seemed to sense that things might end badly once it left the safety of his arm. But at last, it edged onto the cover of the paperback.
Seb moved quickly across the room and dropped the spider and book into the trash can. Then he grabbed the box of a board game from the bookshelf and slammed it on top.
She let out a long, broken breath. “Seb, I...” Her voice faltered, and her eyes filled with tears.
He handed her a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. “Hey, don’t cry. You know I’ve always enjoyed playing with spiders.”
She knew he was just trying to cheer her up, but in her current state of anxiety, she couldn’t appreciate the joke. “How did a black widow get trapped inside my suitcase? And how long do you think it was there?”
“It’s hard to say. Spiders can go quite a while without food and water.”
She looked toward the door. Timmy! What had he heard?
Seb moved past her for a peek into the adjoining room. “Our boy seems to be fast asleep.”
Our boy. It actually sounded kind of nice.
She looked at Seb. He hadn’t hesitated to lure that wretched spider onto his arm. He had put her safety over his own. He had protected her from harm. Again. Because the harm...just seemed to keep coming.
“This wasn’t an accident,” she said.
He nodded. “I don’t think so either.”
“But why a spider? Who keeps something like that around just in case they need to scare someone half to death?”
* * *
Seb eyed the group around the dining room table—his folks, Tacy, Timmy and Steven. It was a gathering of those nearest and dearest to his heart.
But that didn’t make it easy. The air conditioner was set to a cool sixty-six, but the emotional temperature of the room was a hundred degrees and rising. He squirmed in his seat, his eyes moving like a ping-pong ball between his mom and Tacy. The stress of the situation was clearly taking its toll on Tacy. Her mouth was drawn into a deep frown, and her eyes were edged with anxiety.
There were far too many long glances and raised eyebrows for his liking. Only Timmy seemed to be enjoying himself. At the very least, he was enjoying the food, reaching for a second helping of chicken and extra butter for his corn on the cob.
“Nice to see a young boy who likes his vegetables,” his dad said. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Huh?” Timmy scrunched his eyes and turned toward his mother.
“It’s just a saying, Timmy.” Tacy flushed as she stared down at her plate.
It would have been a good time to change the subject. Instead, his mom ramped it up. “He looks just like you,” she mouthed, tilting her head toward Timmy.
He shot a look in her direction. Cease and desist immediately.
Tacy’s forced smile seemed to crumple around the edges each time the conversation trailed into difficult territory. Which seemed to happen every fifteen minutes. They’d be talking about the ranch, and all of a sudden, Timmy would say that he wanted to go riding. Or his mom would suggest that they all should drive together to the church picnic. And maybe Tacy could help her make pies for the bake sale. It was all too much, especially given the stress Tacy was under from the attacks. He needed to talk to his folks and clue them in about the danger.
He shifted his eyes to look at Timmy, who was now wearing a worried frown.
Tacy seemed to have noticed it too. “How are you doing, Timmy?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “I was just thinking about what the coach will say when I don’t show up for tryouts.”
Tacy reached over and squeezed Timmy’s hand. “I’ll send him a text and explain what’s going on. In the meantime, you need to remember that it’s quite a bit different being on a ranch. There are lots of animals around, and though most of them are friendly, some might not like it if you get too close.”
“I know that, Mom,” Timmy said. “Steven told me all about the buffalo. If one comes near me, I know just what to do.”
“What’s that?” Tacy raised a brow.
“Find the nearest tree and climb it.”
She bent over and kissed the top of his head. “That might work in an emergency, but you shouldn’t go off exploring without one of us along.”
Seb flinched as someone kicked him under the table. Steven. Apparently, his brother had been watching him watching Tacy. Don’t go there, bro, Steven’s eyes seemed to say.
Steven was
right, of course. But still... He had been finding it hard to drag his gaze off Tacy.
His dad stood up from the table. “What do you say we all pitch in and haul some supplies to the bunkhouse?”
Together, they raided the linen closet and pantry. Snacks, bottles of water, towels, sheets and pillowcases were quickly loaded into everyone’s arms. From the look of things, his folks seemed to be equipping their visitors for a lengthy stay. His dad handed a pillow and a blanket to Timmy, and they led the way back to the bunkhouse.
Seb’s offer to help was summarily rejected. Fine. He’d give them a half an hour and then pop in to check their progress. In the meantime, he’d look for Steven in the barn with the horses.
The heady scent of sun-dried hay assailed his nostrils as he slid open the wide door. He took a deep breath to pull it all in, welcoming the familiar sensory overload.
Steven was standing next to one of the horse stalls, his foot propped against a rail. “Hey, bro. What’s it like finding out you have a nine-year-old kid?”
“It’s good. Especially knowing that you got to spend so much time with him before I even knew he existed.”
A smile leaked from Steven’s lips. “I like that part, too.”
“I thought you would. I called you a couple times when Tacy and I got to the hospital. But apparently, you’ve forgotten how to answer your phone.”
“I didn’t return your messages because I didn’t have anything to say—not to your questions, anyway. I didn’t see the accident. All I remember is being passed by a silver sedan right before I saw Tacy on the side of the road.”
“Okay, then.” Seb turned and walked toward the door.
“Wait.” Steven called after him. “Don’t you want to know why?”
“Why, what?” He reached for the handle on the barn door, anxious to return to the bunkhouse.
But Steven’s voice beckoned him back inside. “Don’t you want to know why I was so distracted? I had just found out that Carl Tolbert rejected my bid and accepted someone else’s offer on the ranch.”
Seb walked across the barn and leaned against the stall next to his brother. Since retiring from the rodeo circuit, Steven had been chasing a dream to build a shelter for older bulls that were no longer able to compete. The Tolbert land would have been perfect, but now it looked like Steven and his consortium of investors would have to find somewhere else.
“Sorry, Steven. That’s a tough break. Do you know who submitted the winning bid?”
“It’s all hush-hush at this point in the game. This would go down easier if the whole process hadn’t been so sketchy from the start. It’s hard to point a finger at Carl, since he isn’t really involved in the details of the sale. I considered asking Tacy to talk to him and see what she could find out. But I don’t know that I trust her now that we know the big secret she kept hidden all this time. How could she keep you in the dark about the baby?”
Seb shrugged. If he could answer that question, he’d be a happier man. In any case, he appreciated his brother’s loyalty.
“I’ve been wondering how all of this will affect that job you’ve been offered in DC.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. I still have time to make a decision. But my main goal moving forward is to spend as much time as possible with my son.” He looked at his watch. “I suppose I better head over to the bunkhouse to make sure Mom isn’t asking for baby pictures of Timmy so she can compare them to mine.”
“He does look a lot like you did back then. If hearing that makes Tacy uncomfortable, then so be it. I’d be inclined to say she has it coming.”
“I get it. And I’m definitely still upset about how this whole thing played out. But there’s not a lot I can do about it, though, except try to work through it so I can be part of Timmy’s life. Holding grudges isn’t going to help, especially when I know this isn’t easy on Tacy, either. She still has to tell her grandfather about Timmy. Any way you look at it, that’s bound to be a difficult conversation for both of them. He’s not going to like that she’s staying here, but I don’t think she’d be safe under his roof. She sure hasn’t been so far.”
Steven nodded. “Just let me know what I can do to provide protection. I got a look at Tacy’s bike when I was searching for her backpack, and the frame was mangled beyond recognition. The driver of the car was trying to do more than scare her.”
“I agree. Whoever’s doing this is determined and serious. And with Timmy in the mix, we need to have eyes on both of them 24/7.”
SIX
Seb met his mother halfway between the bunkhouse and the barn.
“We need at least another hour to get organized,” she said. “I left your dad with Timmy and Tacy, and I’m headed back to the main house to get more cleaning supplies. The countertops are filthy, and the floor is covered with dust and grime.”
“Yeah, well. This particular situation is a surprise for all of us. But I’m here to help. Tell me what to do.”
“Honestly? The four of us are bumping into each other every time we turn around. Why don’t you come back at seven? By then, we ought to have the situation under control.”
He looked at his watch. “Okay. And, Mom? Thanks.”
“That little boy is precious to us, too. I am thankful to God for this unexpected blessing.”
Unexpected blessing. He wouldn’t disagree with that.
“Quick question, Mom. I know you don’t like to gossip, but is there anything you can tell me about Carl’s new wife? I know she used to live in Reno, but that’s about it.”
“Hmm. I really haven’t spent any time in her company. Initially, I thought she was avoiding me because of the feud, but from what I’ve heard, it’s just her way. But, let me think.” She pressed her lips together. “I do remember overhearing her ask one of the ladies if Chimney Bluff had a community theater. That’s the best I can come up with at the moment.”
“That’s great. Thanks, Mom. I’m going inside to do work on my computer, but I’ll see you back at the bunkhouse in an hour.”
He went up to his room and sat down at his desk. Though he had never formally met Lois Tolbert, he had seen her at church and around town. She was a lot younger than Carl, a fact that had initially set tongues wagging. He tapped in a search for “community theater Reno” and garnered twelve legitimate hits. He opened the first and clicked through dozens of photos from past productions, but no one resembling Lois appeared in the cast. It was the same with the second and the third theater companies on the list. But when he tapped on the fourth, his fingers moved to zoom in on a photo from a production of Oliver! by the Merrywood Players. He scrolled to the bottom of the page to identify the cast member who had caught his eye. “In the role of Mrs. Corney is Lois Dill, third from the right.” He pulled the image closer. The eyes and the shape of the face were definitely familiar, despite the heavy makeup and brown wig.
He had a new name. Lois Dill.
And, bingo! Seconds later, he had an address and an old newspaper article about a fire that destroyed the property at 220 Clearwater Lane. A Mr. Curtis Dill was home at the time. According to initial reports, the blaze was being investigated as arson.
There was something else in the article, too. Lois Dill’s former residence was listed as Ocala, Florida. Which opened up a whole new line to his investigation.
A search of community theater in Ocala produced fewer results. Which made it easier to find another picture of Lois—this time, going by the name of Lois Evans—mugging to the camera in the role of Golde in Fiddler on the Roof. He followed that persona to a newspaper account of a fatal fishing accident that claimed the life of one of the town’s most popular physicians, Dr. Charles Evans, who, along with his wife, Lois, had been trolling for grouper on the Gulf.
His breath hitched. Two husbands dead, with foul play suspected in the demise of at least one of them.
He pa
ced around the room, but that didn’t even begin to burn off his anxiety. He needed to talk to Tacy, but he didn’t want to be in the way. He checked his watch. His mom said they needed an hour, but only forty-five minutes had passed. Close enough. He thudded down the stairs and out the door, his steps hastening across the yard. He needed to get back to Tacy’s side.
He walked into the bunkhouse and headed into the small bedroom just in time to see Tacy tucking a thin cotton blanket around Timmy’s shoulders. One look at her strained face, and he got the message. She was overwhelmed and needed a break. He gently shooed his parents home and sent Tacy off for a long, hot shower. There would be time enough later to discuss Lois and her suspicious past.
“Were you a friend of my mom’s too?”
Timmy’s high voice interrupted his thoughts. He pulled his gaze toward his son, who was sitting up in bed, staring at him with big eyes.
“Steven said that he was friends with my mom when they were kids, so I wondered if you were friends too. Are you and Steven twins? My friend Matt is a twin, but he has a sister, not a brother. It would be cool to have a twin brother. Or just a brother.”
That was a lot of information. There were a couple of questions packed with all that rambling. Which was he supposed to answer first? Timmy was looking at him expectantly, so he assumed some sort of response was required. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, feeling the beginnings of his five o’clock stubble.
“Uh, yeah,” he finally said. “I mean, yeah, Steven and I are twins. And yeah, it’s nice to have a brother. Sometimes. Oh, and yeah, your mom and I were friends growing up.”
Friends. That word brought a surge of emotion in his chest. It was true. They had been friends. Best friends. Long before he had started to date her, Tacy had trailed along behind him and Steven, worming her way into their hearts. At first, he and Steven had just tolerated her, reveling in the fact that she was a Tolbert, one of their forbidden enemies. But it hadn’t taken long for her to win them over. Carefree and tough, she had been game for all of his and Steven’s hijinks and pranks. And then her mom left, and Tacy changed. Hidden under a show of bravado and stubbornness, their once spunky sidekick became fragile and lost. He couldn’t have been much older than Timmy was now when he had realized that he wanted to do everything in his power to make her happy again. And that had set the tone for their relationship. He became her champion, her confidant, her best friend.
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