by Janet Dailey
“Hey, Annie.” He set aside the newspaper. “Rowdy’s bed was getting doggy and this place has big machines. Too hot for me in there, though, so I came out. Just thought I’d do all my laundry before—oops.”
Before what? Was he vacating the cabin? About to leave town?
The newspaper went flying. He stood and collected most of it, fighting the breeze to put it back together, more or less. Some of the pages were torn.
“There’s an article I wanted to keep,” he explained.
Annie tried to seem interested. “On what?”
“A real estate scam, a big one near Denver.” He stuck the newspaper under his arm. “They used eminent domain to move long-term residents off property that was then condemned. It’s complicated. Am I boring you yet?”
“Not really.”
“Thanks for being tactful.” He grinned at her. “Can I take you out for a cup of coffee or something?”
“Don’t you have to watch your laundry?”
“I don’t think anyone’s going to steal it.” He looked at her hopefully. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Annie shrugged that off. If he was planning to make a big deal out of what should be an ordinary good-bye, she didn’t feel like listening. “Um, thanks. But no. I really have to get back to the ranch. I just came in to pick up some screws and stuff for my dad.”
He looked through the window of the Laundromat. It was a pleasant place, new, that attracted ski tourists and other people just passing through. There didn’t seem to be any other customers. There were only two machines in use, side by side, sloshing away.
“Too bad. I have time.”
How nice of him to fit her in between Soak and Spin. Annie frowned and stepped past him.
“Don’t walk away.”
Give me one good reason not to. She didn’t say the words, just pulled out the list from her pocket and waved it at him. “Too many things to do. You know how it is.”
Stone took two long strides to catch up to her. “Come on, Annie. Don’t be like that. I meant to call you. I’ve been busy myself.”
She stopped. The terse explanation didn’t mollify her. “Of course. Fences and boundary markers just do not wait. If you weren’t out there making sure everything lines up, they would uproot themselves and walk away.”
A smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. “Interesting way to put it. Fences have been known to move. Rocks too. But it’s usually people who do the moving.”
“Uh-huh. What are you getting at?”
“I’ll walk you to the hardware store,” he said without answering the question. “In case you need help carrying anything.”
She consulted the list. “Spring latch for bathroom cabinet. Picture hooks. Wood screws, small box. I can probably manage all that.”
His gloved hand caught her arm above the elbow. Annie pulled, but he wouldn’t let her go. It was broad daylight, but that darkly commanding look in his eyes didn’t brighten.
“What’s the matter?” His voice was low, though there was no one passing by.
“Nothing. I really am busy.”
Stone let go of her arm and watched her walk away. He headed back to the Laundromat and went in, setting down the newspaper before he took off his jacket and hat. She’d really frosted his shorts. He needed to warm up.
After a while, the washing machines shuddered to a halt. Stone pulled out the wet wash and got everything into a dryer. Then he reread the article for something to do while he waited a second time.
He knew the Denver division office had paid for the public-service ad that ran next to the article. They’d also made sure that no mention of Shep Connally’s arrest appeared in the newspapers or any other media outlets.
Connally hadn’t talked much, and he probably wouldn’t until he sat down for milk and cookies with the DA, who was on vacation until January. Extra weeks added to the waiting game.
At least it gave Stone more time with Annie. Or—he amended the thought—more time to figure out what was bugging Annie. He wished he could tell her the truth about who he was and what he was doing. The twists and turns of the complicated case were getting in his way.
She didn’t trust him. He could see it in her eyes. And there was no way to reassure her. Stone tossed the newspaper into the tall trash can by the window just before she walked by it, not looking in.
“We’ll be seeing clear skies across the Rockies and out over the Plains for the next few days,” the weatherman announced, “with scattered snow and extreme cold to the east into North Dakota.”
Bree reached for the remote and turned down the volume on the kitchen TV. She went back to the stew simmering on the multi-burner range in several huge pots, lifting the lid of each and stirring.
“That’s us,” a line cook muttered. “I can’t stand this weather.”
Bree picked up a large bowl of chopped vegetables and put handfuls into each pot. “It’s warm in here,” she said philosophically.
He only grunted.
She looked out beyond the pass-through window into the cafeteria. A shift of workers was just finishing, rising to empty their trays and get back to work. The clanging racket of cutlery and metal was so familiar, she barely noticed it by now.
“I’m going on break,” Bree told her coworker.
“Okay. Eat something.”
The kitchen staff looked after each other in a no-nonsense way. For the most part, there was no time for small gestures of friendship. They worked practically round the clock. No slacking off allowed. The pace was relentless.
Bowls of rice pudding, each topped with a maraschino cherry, were lined up by the hundreds on rolling shelves. She took a bowl, wanting something bland at the moment.
Bree nibbled at the cherry as she went through the swinging doors into the echoing cafeteria. A heavyset field boss waved her over to sit with him and his crew. They’d been here the longest, earned the most, and were on friendly terms with a lot of people from the kitchen.
“Hi, Karl. Hi, guys.”
A stern glare from Karl and the others slid down to make space for her on the bench.
“What is that?” Karl asked, looking at the creamy glop in the bowl she set down.
“Rice pudding.”
He shook his graying, buzz-cut head. “Thought it was oatmeal. Either way, it’s all yours.”
“I wasn’t planning to share it,” she teased him. She ate a few spoonfuls, then put the spoon down.
“No appetite? Or does it taste as bad as it looks?” Karl asked. The other guys guffawed.
“I’m not hungry,” Bree said. She really wasn’t. She’d only helped herself to the pudding because the line cook had told her to eat something.
“Well, don’t go away,” Karl said. He moved the bowl to the center of the table. “Me and the boys want to make you a proposition.”
Bree gave him a wary look, even though she knew Karl was married and had a daughter her age plus younger kids. Besides, he never let any of the roughnecks on his crew say a rude word to her.
“Really.” The one word seemed like a safe enough reply.
“We heard—don’t ask me how—that you aren’t going home for Christmas.”
“That’s right.”
“No. That’s wrong,” Karl growled.
“It’s my business, not yours.” Bree wasn’t annoyed by his blunt comments, just drawing a line. Sometimes you had to with these guys.
Karl looked at the others. “You hear that? With all due respect to this nice lady, I don’t agree.”
“Me neither.”
“Nope.”
And so on, up and down the table.
Bree was puzzled. The older man understood something about what she was going through, though he was happily married. He had five boys at home in Kansas who were a lot younger than his grown daughter. “Don’t tease me, Karl,” she said quietly.
“This is no joke, Bree. We passed the hat last night. Give it here.”
A man’s upside-down hat went from han
d to hand until it reached Karl. He placed it in front of her where the rice-pudding bowl had been.
Bree saw the cloth sack inside it. It seemed to be stuffed with bills.
“You may count it at your leisure,” Karl said.
“There’s the gas money you need to get home, plus the bonus you woulda gotten.”
“I can’t take this.”
Karl stared her down. “Oh, yes you can.”
Bree looked up and saw Marta by the wall, giving her a smile of encouragement.
“Marta, did you tell them about me and the kids?”
The other cook nodded.
Bree pressed her lips together, her eyes wide and shining as she looked down the table and back at Karl.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “We’ll take it all back if you do. Just can’t stand it when women cry.”
She lowered her head for a silent moment. Then, with a huge grin on her face, she lifted her chin and declared, “Okay! I can’t say no!”
Karl confirmed that. “Damn straight. She’s going home for the holidays, fellas!”
Bree held up the hat to loud cheers, saying thank you to every man at the table. A few workers on the incoming shift glanced curiously toward their table, until the usual commotion began as hard hats came off and trays were banged down and slid along on the counter railing.
“Guess I should go pack. Oh my. I’m not going to tell the girls. What a surprise.”
“Then you have to call me from the road. What’s your number? Just so your name comes up. I’ll answer right away.” He took a smartphone out of the pocket of his workshirt and peered at the screen.
“Ready? It’s three-five-seven—”
Karl took a photo of Bree clutching the hat and turned the phone around to show her. “Never seen you look happier.”
“That’s a fact!” She hugged him to more cheers.
On second thought, Bree called Cilla and Ed Rivers after the girls had gone to bed to tell them she was coming. She promised to keep in touch during the drive. The forecast didn’t predict any big storms. Her dented mom-mobile oughta make it.
“You’re good to go. We just wanted to be sure.” An oil field mechanic walked out from under her car and around the hydraulic lift, holding a lube gun.
“Thanks. I still can’t believe I’m going. You’ve all been incredibly helpful.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want you driving all that way to get to them kids without checking your car. I’m thorough, and the crews know it.”
He pushed a button to lower the hydraulic lift as Bree watched. Once the tires touched the concrete floor, he patted the hood with a massive hand that looked like it could leave a dent in rolled steel. “Lots of miles on her, but she’s still going strong.”
“I always remember to have the oil changed and the tires rotated. There’s a maintenance booklet in the glove compartment with the dates.”
“Yes, ma’am. I took a look at that before I jacked the car,” he said politely. “And the engine was in pretty good shape. But we’re talking about driving through North Dakota, Wyoming, and Montana in winter. You need your vehicle to be in great shape. I got it hummin’ like a bumblebee now. You’ll get to Colorado just fine.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” She fumbled in her purse for a bill—she had a few fifties in there.
The mechanic shook his head, his thick brows drawing together. “Don’t even think about paying me,” he said. “Just drive safe. You got a long way to go.”
Chapter 23
Annie was one of the last riders on the ski lift for the day. Still not cleared to swoop down slopes, she had decided to rattle up, if only for the view. She was solo this time.
She got off at the top and went toward the lodge to buy a cup of tea. It would keep her hands warm. She wanted to be outside, despite the frigid air. The sky was clear, but beginning to darken toward the west, when she brought the cup to a table placed away from the others and sat down.
The town of Velde lit up as the day began to fade away. Every street was strung with lights, every lamp decorated with giant candy canes and Christmas bows. Far below, the scene looked like something inside a snow globe, pretty and sparkling and unreal.
Tiny figures moved about on the sidewalks. Cars, not many, moved slowly down the streets. Some stopped between the traffic lights. Annie figured the people inside were calling to friends, wishing happy holidays to all.
She was going to spend every second of hers surrounded by family. Mother, father, brothers—and now, sisters-in-law she really wanted to know better. There would be plenty to talk about, wonderful food, and good cheer. She was infinitely grateful for all of it.
The aching loneliness she felt would soon pass, Annie told herself.
So would the annoyance known as Marshall Stone. A few kisses and a dance didn’t add up to anything permanent.
She sipped the cooling tea, telling herself that she deserved a lot of credit for not getting emotional over Mr. Tall, Dark, and Uncommunicative.
Out in the distance, she saw a lone tree suddenly blaze with colored lights. It was topped with a star that shone golden against the dark blue drifts of snow. A ranch family’s tree. Solitary and yet there for all to enjoy.
“Miss? We’re closing in fifteen minutes.”
Annie looked around. A teenage waitress stood near the lodge, holding a tray. She didn’t have a jacket on and probably wasn’t going to come over.
Time to go anyway. Annie rose and walked over to give her the empty cup. “Thanks. I was kind of lost in thought.”
“No problem.”
Back down on the streets, Annie realized that she was now one of the tiny figures in the snow globe. She smiled to herself. The thought sort of helped her get perspective on her situation.
Until she saw Marshall Stone opening the door of his big black truck. She heard static from a car radio inside, something she hadn’t noticed when she was riding in it with him. Another one of his gizmos, no doubt.
An emergency call crackled in. She stopped a few feet away and listened, holding a tote with the few grocery items she’d picked up.
“Stone, stand by. We may need you to go rescue a lady. She went off the road into a snowdrift. No injuries. Shook up is all.”
“Okay. Got everything but the keg of brandy.”
“Seriously, dude.” That had to be the new deputy, a former snowboarder. “They got her dug out, but her car’s totaled. She needs a ride to town.”
“What’s going on up there?”
“The pass is a mess. A snow squall blew through. What’s it look like in Velde?”
“Clear.”
“Hope it lasts. The squall went the other way.”
“Storms like that move out fast. How am I going to find you?”
“Look for the black and white. Roof lights are on. We’re about ten miles to the west out on the old ridge road. I’ll send the coordinates to your GPS app.”
Stone took out his smartphone. “Okay.” He waited.
Annie stepped back, but not quickly enough. He saw her.
“Annie. Did you hear all that?”
“Yes. How come they’re calling you?”
Stone’s phone beeped as the coordinates came through. “They need all the help they can get, obviously. Want to come along?”
“I guess I could,” she said reluctantly. “But I don’t want to drive my truck somewhere I might not be able to get out of.”
“I meant come with me.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
He got behind the wheel as she went around the side, climbing in again. It wasn’t a date, she told herself. It was a rescue.
The car radio filled the silence, crackling with news of more stranded drivers. Mountain weather was unpredictable this late in December.
“Any word on who the lady is? From Velde?”
“The deputy didn’t say, so maybe. You all seem to know each other.”
“We actually don’t. The town’s not
that small.”
A loud crackle from the car radio carried the deputy’s voice to them. “Stone?”
“On my way.”
“The lady says she has family in Velde.”
Stone glanced toward Annie. “There you go.”
“Her name is Bree Rivers.”
Annie sat bolt upright within the confines of her shoulder belt. “That’s Cilla’s cousin. She’s the mom of those two little girls. You saw them.”
“I did?”
“At the pageant.”
“There were a lot of kids there, Annie.”
“Yeah, well—let’s get going. I’m glad she’s all right. She took a job at a North Dakota oil field as a cook. Saving her money for a new start. I understood she wasn’t coming back until January.”
“Maybe she decided to drive down for Christmas.”
“Good guess. I wonder if I should call my mother.”
“Not yet. Let’s go get Bree first.”
Annie stared ahead. There was very little traffic. The sudden squall must have overtaken other vehicles besides Bree’s. She looked up, realizing that the sky had disappeared behind thick clouds.
“Are we going to get caught in this?”
“He said it went thataway.” Stone lifted a hand from the wheel and flipped back the cover on a globe-type compass.
“Look at that.”
“It’s the real deal. GPS isn’t everything.”
Red and blue flashes of light tinted the air above the rise in the road. Stone gunned the engine and slowed when he saw the accident scene.
As soon as he stopped Annie jumped out and went to the cruiser. Stone got out and talked to the deputy while Annie peered into the back window.
“Bree? It’s me, Annie.”
The woman wrapped in the silver heat blanket brightened. She cracked the door to say hello. “Hi. Are you an EMT too?”
“No. I just came along with my friend. We’re going to bring you back to town.”
“That would be wonderful. I think these guys are needed elsewhere. I guess you heard I went into a snowdrift.”
“Yeah. Glad you’re okay. Let’s get you inside the truck.”
She helped Bree out of the back. Bree took off the heat blanket and put it into the cruiser. “Someone else is going to need this.”