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Restless Hearts

Page 3

by B. J Daniels


  * * *

  BLAZE SIGHED AND tried to ignore Jake. It was difficult. The man seemed to overpower any space he was in. She could smell the soap he’d used to shower this morning. She knew his long, straight, thick black hair was probably still damp and tied back to trail partway down his back. She had felt him looking at her most of the way into the town. What was he really doing here?

  She shoved thoughts of him away and tried to concentrate on the job at hand. She already knew how this was going to go down. She would talk to her father. He probably wouldn’t tell her the truth. She would investigate, and ultimately, Monte would go to prison for the rest of his life.

  But then what? She’d told Cal that she was taking over the ranch in her father’s absence. That was the last thing she wanted to do and her father had to know that. So why had he given her power of attorney? Didn’t he realize that she would sell the place the first chance she got—and the buffalo with it? There would be nothing he could do about it since at his age, he wouldn’t ever be getting out of prison. She could wipe out his legacy with her signature. The buffalo would be gone and so would the McClintock name in this part of Montana.

  She looked out the window as Jake drove through town. She remembered being a teenager driving in on a Friday or Saturday night. That seemed a lifetime ago, cruising the main street and flirting with boys.

  Like the ranch, it didn’t appear that anything had changed. Some of the businesses were different. Some were gone. Like so many towns in rural areas of Montana, this part of the state was losing population. Saddle Butte hung on because of the ranching. Otherwise it would have shriveled up and blown away a long time ago.

  “The hospital is the next right,” she said, looking out the window as they passed a few local businesses, some empty lots, a couple of older homes and a tire shop. Several people on the street looked up as they passed, but she saw no recognition on their faces when she met their gazes.

  Maybe she’d been gone long enough that no one would remember her. Right, she thought. She’d forgotten about the bumper sticker someone had plastered on her pickup. Jake was right. She’d been spotted on her way through town and possibly followed to the gas station. She was really going to have to start paying more attention since soon she would be neck-deep in her father’s mess—a dangerous place to be.

  The hospital was a small one-story brick building on the edge of town. Jake parked but didn’t turn off the engine for a moment.

  “Are you sure about this?” he said, clearly having his reservations. “You have to know what kind of reception you’re going to get in there.”

  She took a long breath and let it out before she turned to him. “Have you ever known me to run and hide when there is trouble? To walk away from a fight? To give up easily?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Nope. You’re more of a throw-the-first-punch kind of girl. It’s what I love about you.”

  She nodded and returned his smile as she opened her door. “And that is the problem between us. You still think I’m a girl.”

  She stepped out and slammed his pickup door, but not before she heard him say, “My kind of girl.”

  * * *

  JAKE WAS GLAD he’d come to town with Blaze, even if she wasn’t. And she was wrong about one thing. She didn’t give up easily, but she’d given up on him. Now he had to figure out what to do about that.

  The moment they walked into the hospital, he knew there was going to be trouble. He could feel the tension as Blaze stepped up to the reception desk and asked where they could find the Garrison boy. But before the receptionist could answer, Blaze said, “Forget it,” as she spotted someone she knew and headed off down the hallway.

  A cluster of people were gathered outside a partition room in the ER on the first floor. Given the number of boots, canvas jackets and Stetsons he saw in the cluster, he assumed it was the ranching family and friends.

  As Blaze headed for them, he saw several of the people turn. He watched their faces and felt his stomach tense. Yep, trouble was brewing big-time. He wanted to hog-tie Blaze and keep her safe, but that would only make her turn her ire on him—and certainly not stop her since she was a woman on a mission. So he kept stride with her, knowing there was little he could do to keep them from giving her a piece of their minds.

  “I heard about what happened,” Blaze said when she reached the small crowd gathered there. “I’m so sorry.” She seemed to ignore the stone-like stares. “I’m Blaze. Blaze McClintock. I wanted to see if there is anything I can do.”

  Jake saw her glance into the area where the Garrison boy lay in bed, his arm in a cast and a bandage on his head. Blaze started to step into the area, but a large rancher blocked her way.

  “You have no business here,” the man said. “My son could have been killed by one of your father’s damned buffalo.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Blaze said. “Shane Garrison, right? Is there anything I can do? I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  “You need to leave,” a woman said, grabbing Blaze’s arm and pulling her back. “You just need to leave and stay away from my family.”

  Jake watched Blaze gently remove the woman’s fingers from her arm. “Mary, I understand that you’re upset.”

  “Upset?” The word had a hysterical edge to it. “You have no idea. My boy...” Her voice broke.

  Jake stepped in. “I believe all she’s saying is that she’d like to help.”

  “I don’t know who you are, but we don’t need help from the likes of either of you,” Shane Garrison said.

  “In that case, we’ll be going, then,” Jake said. He touched Blaze’s arm. She jerked it away.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but your fight is with my father, not me. And certainly not with Jake here. I’m having your fence repaired and in the meantime, I will do my best to keep my father’s buffalo off your property.”

  “You do that,” Shane blustered as his wife pushed past him to her son’s bedside.

  Jake glanced at the others standing in the hallway. Neighboring ranchers? One woman stood out among the others. Middle-aged, she had long blond hair that was pulled back with a red ribbon. Her expression was the only one that wasn’t angry as she watched Blaze with sad brown eyes. The woman looked as if she wanted to say something, do something, but couldn’t.

  Blaze stood for a moment. He knew she wanted to say a whole lot more. He was thankful when she didn’t. Her gaze took in the others, lighting for a moment on the blonde woman.

  “Allie,” Blaze said with a slight nod. Then, turning, she shoved her Western hat back on her head and walked, her back ramrod straight, toward the exit.

  Jake chuckled to himself as he went after her. “That went better than expected,” he said once they’d reached his pickup again.

  “I spent my life fighting my father’s battles,” she said with a disgusted shake of her head. “I swore never again and here I am defending the son of a—”

  “You did good in there.”

  She shot him a look and laughed. “I was lucky to get out of there alive and we both know it. Everyone has so much hate for my father.”

  “Which is why the judge is worried that the sheriff might railroad your father straight to a prison cell. Have you seen any of the evidence against him?”

  Blaze shook her head as she buckled up. “Since I’m on such a roll, might as well go visit Sheriff Bud Fraser. That old goat will be delighted to see me. I used to date his son.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “High school. He asked me to marry him. He even bought me a ring.”

  “I take it you said no?”

  She nodded smiling to herself. “LJ Fraser was just one of a long line of mistakes I made.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Jake said. “You wish you’d married him?”

  She laughed. “Not hardly
. I wish I’d never dated him. But needless to say, it’s one of the reasons his father dislikes me. I’m sure there are more.”

  Jake thought going to see the sheriff right now was probably a mistake. But he knew there was no talking her out of it in the mood she was in. He started the engine and pulled out. As he did, he noticed the woman Blaze had called Allie standing just inside the hospital lobby, watching them go. “That woman—”

  “Allie? Yep, she’s Frank Anson’s widow and the woman my father fell for.”

  “If true, why didn’t Monte steal her from Frank?” He felt Blaze’s gaze on him.

  “Women can’t be stolen. Just like men can’t be stolen out of a good marriage.”

  “So if they were both in love, then what kept them apart?” When Blaze didn’t answer, he glanced over at her.

  As if feeling him watching her, she said, “Love isn’t always enough.”

  He didn’t think they were talking about Allie and Monte anymore. “Maybe it was the age difference between them.” He estimated that Allie Anson was in her midforties. Montgomery “Monte” McClintock was fifty-seven.

  Blaze leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Not to mention that she was married to a man who kept a shotgun by his door.”

  Jake gave that some thought. He knew a shotgun by the door wouldn’t have kept him away from the woman he loved. The only thing that had kept him away from Blaze this past year was her. The last thing she’d said to him when she’d left was that she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

  He’d given her time, maybe too much, but he was here now and determined that they were going to sort out their feelings for each other. Blaze could keep denying it, but he wouldn’t leave her again until he was sure she really didn’t love him.

  As he pulled into the parking lot at the sheriff’s department, he realized what had been nagging at him since leaving the hospital. “Allie doesn’t seem all that angry about your father killing her husband.”

  Blaze opened one eye to look at him before she sat up. “That’s because if the rumors are true, my father did her a favor,” she said as she climbed out. “Which makes my father look even more guilty.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SHERIFF BUD FRASER had been expecting her. Blaze saw that the moment she looked into the man’s face. Bud shoved back his Stetson as he met her in the hallway before she could reach his office.

  “I don’t have time for this right now,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. He was about her father’s age, late fifties. His face was a road map of wrinkles as if from a long, tiring and rough journey to get to this point in time.

  “I want to talk to you about my father’s case.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s a little early for your dinner over at the café. Surely you can spare a few minutes. For old times’ sake,” she added.

  He chuckled at that before breaking into a hacking cough. “Why don’t you make an appointment?”

  “I want to see my father.”

  Bud raised one grayed eyebrow. “What’s the rush? You haven’t seen him in years. Another day or two won’t hurt.”

  “Are you denying me the right to see my father?”

  He narrowed his gaze at her as he looked down his hawklike nose. “I heard you’ve become a private investigator. That doesn’t give you the credentials to come in here and—”

  “I’m his daughter. That’s all the...credential I need.”

  The sheriff looked past her to Jake, who’d insisted that he wasn’t going to let her go in alone. They’d argued on the walk into the building. She’d forgotten he’d trailed in after her. “And you are?”

  “Jake Horn. I’m with her.”

  “Jake Horn,” Bud repeated it as if letting the name wallow around in his mouth for a while before he pursed his lips and sighed. “You’re that damned bounty hunter I heard about?”

  “I’ve been known to escort criminals to court,” Jake said. “I would think you’d appreciate that. But in my spare time, I’m just a simple rancher.”

  “Beef? Or are you one of these...buffalo people?”

  “Black Angus. I hope you approve.”

  The sheriff shook his head as his gaze returned to Blaze. “I knew you were going to show up here bringing all kinds of trouble with you. You can see your father after his arraignment tomorrow morning. That’s if he wants to see you.” He settled his Stetson more securely on his head. “Now, if you will excuse me.” He pushed past them and out the door.

  * * *

  “YOU ALL RIGHT?” Jake asked as he drove out of town, back toward the ranch.

  “What are we doing here? I mean, really? This is too much like beating my head against a concrete wall. What’s the point? Monte’s guilty. He’s hated Frank Anson for years. He wanted his wife. Maybe he was going over the fence again and Frank caught him. Maybe—”

  “That’s just it. We don’t know what happened,” Jake said. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It could have just been a simple misunderstanding that turned violent. You know how these things happen. This whole buffalo-versus-cattle issue.” He shook his head. “I just don’t get it.”

  “Neither do most people. In Wyoming, there’s no problem. Buffalo and cattle exist harmoniously. It’s Montana. It’s especially this part of the state. Buffalo are hard on fences. They’re big and often destructive. I get it.”

  Jake shook his head. “I think it’s more political. I know I don’t worry about buffalo infecting my cattle with brucellosis, but a lot of ranchers do.”

  “I thought those were just the wild bison from Yellowstone Park.”

  They fell into a companionable silence for a while until he said, “It’s like the early turf wars between sheep and cattle ranchers. I think this war will end the same way, with both realizing that the other isn’t so bad.”

  “Those wars turned ugly, too, before it was over. My father’s been buying up land, adding more buffalo. You can see how upset people are.”

  “Upset enough to kill one another?” He glanced over at her. “This could be about buffalo and not Frank’s wife. You don’t know that’s what your father was arguing with the man about before Frank was killed. Or even if they were arguing. Hopefully we’ll be able to get more information tomorrow. But I think we need to call in a good criminal lawyer. Your father can’t get a fair trial in this county.”

  “Or any other county. The buffalo are why everyone in this community hates my father. But I’m not sure another county will make a difference in this state.”

  “They can’t all hate him,” Jake said. “Allie Anson, for one, didn’t.”

  She shot him a look. “I wonder if she’ll be at the arraignment tomorrow. You can bet Garrison and his bunch of rancher friends will be there.”

  “Which is why I’ll be right by your side.”

  Blaze groaned and looked out as the ranch entrance archway came into view. “I actually think there are more signs out here than earlier. I asked Cal to see about getting it cleaned up. At least my father’s effigy isn’t still dangling from the rafters.”

  “I tore it down on my way in,” Jake said. He felt her gaze swing on him. “No matter how you feel about him, he deserves better than that.”

  She said nothing, but he could almost hear her gritting her teeth. Her daddy problems were legendary. Much like Montgomery McClintock himself. The man was bigger than life. Jake couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Blaze growing up in that large dark shadow after her mother left.

  But there was no doubt that it had left a chip on her shoulder bigger than Montana. The few times he’d tried to talk to her about her father had taught him that it was a subject best avoided.

  He barely got the pickup stopped in the yard before she was out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. Jake parked and, grabbing his bag from the back seat, started toward the hous
e.

  “You can sleep in the barn,” Blaze said over her shoulder as she strode toward the front door.

  He stopped walking to stare at her slim back and that wonderful behind of hers. “You’ll just have to walk farther when you get lonely,” he called after her.

  Her laugh followed her into the house. Jake smiled as he hoisted his duffel strap onto his shoulder and headed for the barn. It wouldn’t be the first barn he’d slept in and probably not his last.

  * * *

  BLAZE HALTED JUST inside the door of the ranch house she’d grown up in, feeling the weight of the past settle onto her shoulders. She’d hoped that the house had changed, that it would look nothing like it had the last time she was here. It was a wasted hope.

  She took a breath and let it out, blinking as her eyes burned with tears. At moments like this, she missed her mother desperately. How different her life would have been if her mother hadn’t left. Not that she blamed her. Living with Montgomery McClintock was no picnic. Still, Blaze hadn’t expected her mother to run out on her. She’d been sixteen and had just begun to rebel. She’d always wondered if that, too, had played into why her mother had lied about sending for her as soon as she was settled.

  Her father had paid a private detective to find her, but Bethany Reynolds McClintock had disappeared without a trace.

  “She doesn’t want to be found,” Monte had told Blaze. “She had to have been planning this for some time.” He’d been angry but also hurt. “What mother leaves her child? You’re better-off without her.”

  But she hadn’t been and as time when on, she’d resented her father even more, blaming him for her mother leaving. The more she pulled away from him, the more he tried to control her. It had become a vicious battle that could have only ended the way it had.

  Hating to be reminded of the past, she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and started through the living room with its hardwood floor, leather furniture and Native American rugs. It was as if no one used this room. The thought made her realize that it was probably true.

 

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