A Cowgirl at Heart

by Christine Lynxwiler

  As soon as she parked the Jeep and grabbed the first bag of groceries, Andrew was there, helping her carry them in. The dogs pranced all around them. “They love grocery day,” she told Andrew as they carried bags into the kitchen. “I always give them a treat when I get the new package.”

  He went out to get the last load while she gave each dog a treat.

  In a minute, he came in with the last few bags and a small piece of paper. “Is this something important?” He held up the note.

  She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten it. “Luis was there.”

  “At the grocery store?” The alarm in his voice excited the dogs. Missy and Majesty both barked sharply.

  “Okay, calm down. He was in the parking lot. When I ran toward him, he left.”

  “You ran toward him?”

  “Yes, to see why he is following me. But he left and dropped something as he ran. When I got in the Jeep, I found this on the ground.”

  “We have to call Jack.”

  She started to remind him of his promise, but she could see concern etching his face. He wouldn’t be easily dissuaded this time. “Let me get these groceries put away, and I’ll tell you what I know about Luis Reynolds.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Andrew sat on a bar stool in Elyse’s compact kitchen and watched her put her groceries away. His dad used to say you could tell a lot by people’s groceries. But he was in no mood to analyze hers.

  Finally, she finished and turned to him. “I need some air. Would you like to go for a...” She glanced down at the dogs that were sprawled out around his feet. “W-A-L-K?”

  “S-U-R-E.” He stood and followed her to the foyer. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling she’d be more open away from her house.

  “C-O-R-B-Y,” she spelled back. She opened the closet, slipped on a red hoodie, and grabbed a blanket.

  “I guess since I know what you think about my humor, I won’t say a word about you being Little Red Riding Hood,” he said as they walked out the door.

  She glanced back at him and grinned. “That would probably be best.” At the end of the walkway, she hesitated. “Is it okay if we go toward the river?” she called over her shoulder.

  “If you’re not afraid of the dark.” Personally, he was so keyed up after reading that note, he thought he could take on Zeke and Luis together, and at least five more.

  She dropped back and let him walk beside her. “Why do you think I brought you?”

  They left the gravel and took the cow path to the river. Andrew jumped across the cattle guard and held out his hand to help her over.

  She waved it away and jumped by herself, landing neatly on the other side. “I don’t want to get spoiled.”

  He looked out at the dark field. “What if a curious cow comes over to see what we’re doing?”

  She laughed. “You think I’d be here if there were cows anywhere in the vicinity? Daddy won’t start using this pasture again until the next week or so.”

  “So this is your last hurrah?”

  “Yep. My last midnight—give or take a few hours—river trek of the season.” She sounded serious.

  “You walk down here at night by yourself?” He’d tried to keep the concern out of his voice, but he could tell he hadn’t completely succeeded.

  “No.”

  “Oh good.”

  “Usually I take the dogs.”

  “Elyse!”

  Her giggle sounded out of place in the dark night. “I do. But tonight I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else.”

  “Walking alone out here, with just the dogs, doesn’t seem dangerous to you?”

  “I haven’t done it since Zeke. Before that I didn’t have any enemies....” She hesitated. “Or at least if I did, I didn’t know it.”

  Andrew was sure she was talking about Luis Reynolds. Maybe she was slowly coming to grips with the thought that he could be a danger to her.

  They walked in silence for a while, and after a few minutes she took the lead.

  He followed blindly since she obviously had a certain destination in mind. Sure enough, they came out to a small clearing in the trees along the river—a grassy bank, perfect for sitting and watching the current.

  He helped her spread the heavy Navajo-style blanket on the damp grass and sat down beside her. The moon glinted off the water below and bounced back up to illuminate an old rope swing swaying in the mild breeze.

  “This is where my childhood began.” Her words sounded far away. She stared out at the water.

  He waited for her to speak again.

  “I’d never really been a kid until I came to live with the McCords when I was ten.”

  He nodded. “Did you grow up around here?”

  She shrugged. “Here, there, everywhere. We always stayed in Arkansas, but we moved a lot.” She looked over at him, and her expression was hidden by the shadow. “You can only raise money for a kid’s kidney transplant once in the same town. Or trip in the grocery store parking lot over a small warped place in the asphalt. Or run behind a car when someone is backing out so that they bump you and pay you to keep quiet about it.” She picked up a rock and threw it in the water.

  Her words sunk in slowly. “Your parents were con artists?”

  “I was, too. Well trained and profitable. Homeschooled.” The bitter laugh that came from her mouth didn’t sound like her. “Are you checking your wallet to be sure it’s still there?”

  “What?”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs with her arms. “I wouldn’t blame you, now that you know what I came from.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “Elyse, what you came from is God. And He created you in His image. As far as I can see, you do a better job of living up to that than anyone I know.” A far better job than he did, living with his half-truths and ulterior motives. He knew he should tell her the truth about his own past, but he couldn’t stand to see doubt replace the trust he saw in her eyes.

  She put her face down on her knees. Finally, she looked back up at him. “They were working some kind of con, and the people caught on and called the cops.”

  She didn’t speak for a minute, and he thought maybe she’d told him all she was going to.

  “My parents had guns. I didn’t even know they owned guns. We prided ourselves on no violence. Ever. It was like an unwritten code. But my dad shot a cop in the leg, and the cops shot my mom. The cop was okay, but my mom died. Dad went to prison.”

  His stomach felt sick for the little, lost girl he heard behind the words. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d called them her mom and dad. “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded and pulled her hand away to swipe at her eyes.

  “So you came to the McCords?”

  “First they put me in foster care. I didn’t talk ... so no one wanted me. Until the McCords brought me here.” She motioned to the rope swing. “They gave me a puppy and a boatload of brothers and sisters and let me be a kid.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” She stood and offered him a hand. “I guess we’d better start back.”

  He let her help him to his feet. “Yep. Your dogs are going to be wondering where you are.”

  They walked back hand in hand without talking. Andrew understood better why she didn’t want to tell the police about Luis. But he couldn’t help but think that if she hadn’t realized when she was a kid that her dad was capable of violence, she might not realize it now either. Back at her door, he dropped her hand and smiled. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  “Like I said, C-O-R-N-Y.”

  He gave a rueful laugh. “I never denied it.”

  She leaned up and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Truthfully, I like it,” she whispered. “Good night, Andrew. Thank you for everything.” Before he could say a word, she slipped inside.

  He stood with his hand to his cheek until she locked the door. As he walked back to his camper, a vehicle came up the main road. He froze
in his tracks, waiting for it to stop. But it puttered on by, and he could hear it for a long time after it passed.

  He peered into the darkness. Was someone out there? How could he ever know for sure she was safe? Even as he thought the question, he knew the answer. He couldn’t.

  He sat down in his lawn chair and looked up at the twinkling stars, too many to count. One thing he’d learned over the last few years: he wasn’t in control. He sat there and prayed until he was too sleepy to pray anymore. Then he got up and went to bed.

  ***

  Andrew poured his second cup of coffee and stared at the phone in his hand. Was there another way to do this that would be easier? He still remembered a few buddies from his days in investigative journalism. But most of them had turned against him by the end, working to prove he was guilty rather than innocent. And at one time, he’d had plenty of law enforcement contacts. But he’d burned all those bridges while he was investigating Melanie’s death.

  In retrospect, he could see he’d gone a little crazy. No one seemed to care as much as he did that Melanie’s murderer had walked away without a trace. Either that or they just thought he’d done it himself. No one else had to suffer through the first few hours of knowing she was dead while also enduring the knowledge that the husband was always the first suspect. He’d been obsessed for the first two years, determined to single-handedly bring her killer to justice and clear his own name.

  A year earlier, he’d been down on the Texas coast following another useless lead when he barely stopped himself from getting violent with a guy who, as a prank, had answered his ad for information and pretended to know something about Melanie’s murder. With his fist drawn back, inches from the guy’s nose, he’d realized that he’d let this case own him. He’d gotten rid of his gun then and started back to church.

  For the last year, he’d painted more houses and followed fewer leads. He could never have a future with a wife or a family as long as this shadow stayed over him, but at least he wasn’t killing himself trying to get out from under it. Slowly but surely he’d found some peace just being with God and alone.

  Then he’d gotten the call from the Shady Grove pawn shop dealer, and it had all started again.

  But now there was more at stake than bringing a murderer to justice and even clearing his name. Now it was about finding a murderer before he struck again. He pictured Elyse, so afraid and yet so brave at the same time. For that, it was worth calling anyone. Even his father.

  He scrolled through his address book before he changed his mind. While it was ringing, he tried to think of exactly what to say.

  “Andrew?”

  He couldn’t believe it. His dad had finally figured out caller ID. “Yes. Hi, Dad.”

  “My birthday’s not for a couple more months. Did you lose your calendar?”

  Andrew took a deep breath and held it in to the count of three. He let the air slowly escape through his nose. “Actually, I was hoping you could help me.”

  “The money finally ran out?”

  Andrew looked down at the square tiles of his camper floor. Just say what needs to be said. “No, I need information.”

  “Son”—for the first time, the cocky arrogance faded from his dad’s tone—“when are you going to give up on that wild goose chase? I know you didn’t kill Melanie. Everyone who knows you does. Even the life insurance company paid you.”

  Yes, but the majority of people in their home county still thought he did it. The local newspaper had painted a dramatic picture of a huge fight between the newlyweds, a murder committed in anger, then an elaborate setup to make it look like a robbery. It had been a false picture, but that hadn’t mattered to most of his colleagues. Only his closest friends had remained convinced of his innocence. And sometimes he was afraid even some of them wondered if he might have done it. “This is not directly related with Melanie’s case. It’s something different.”

  “What do you need?” His dad sounded tired.

  “Information on two men. One has been in prison a long time until recently. The other one was in and out in the last three years.”

  “Names?”

  “Zeke Moser and Luis Reynolds.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “If they ever served time in the same facility.” It was the only thing that made sense.

  “Okay, I’ll call you back.”

  “Thanks.”

  As was his custom, his dad broke the connection without a good-bye. Andrew remembered, even as a teenager, thinking that his dad must just think he was too important and busy to waste time on things like ending a phone conversation politely. He flipped the phone shut and laid it on the table.

  A few minutes later, it rang and he jerked it up and answered, half expecting to hear his father’s voice. It was his preacher instead, telling him that one of the women at church had heard that Maxine was awake. “I knew you were concerned about her, so I thought I’d let you know.”

  Andrew thanked him and hung up, his stomach clenched. He was concerned about her. But he was more anxious to find out what she knew. Even though he felt bad about his motives, now that Elyse was in danger, it was more important than ever to question Zeke’s sister.

  CHAPTER 16

  Elyse stayed behind Andrew as he tapped on the hospital room door. She was thrilled that Maxine was awake.

  “Come in,” a man’s voice called from inside.

  “Oh.” Elyse grabbed Andrew’s shirt from the back. “Someone else is already here visiting.”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “Then we won’t stay long.”

  She unclenched her fingers from his shirt and smoothed it out. “Okay.”

  Andrew pushed the door open and led the way into the room. Beside the bed, a man who appeared to be about the same age as Elyse smiled at them then at the woman in the bed. “Look, Aunt Maxine, you have visitors.”

  Andrew stepped back to let Elyse go first, but she sidestepped and slipped back behind him. He glanced back at her, his eyebrows drawn together. Then he turned back to the bed. “Hello.” He leaned toward Maxine. “We’re the ones who found you.”

  They’d discussed on the way over about keeping details to a minimum, just in case she didn’t know about Zeke and the gun.

  “Thank you.” Maxine’s voice was feeble, but her eyes were sharp.

  “And you must be Miss Maxine’s nephew,” Andrew said to the man.

  He nodded and stuck out his hand. “I’m Doug.”

  Andrew shook his hand. “Andrew Stone. This is Elyse McCord.” He smiled. “You look familiar.”

  Elyse had thought the same thing. And now she realized why. Zeke looked like an inflated caricature of this man.

  Doug had a stricken look on his face as if he hated for them to know why he looked familiar.

  “He’s Zeke’s son,” Maxine said, her raspy voice bringing all eyes back to the bed. “But take my word for it, even though he favors his father in looks, in this case, the apple fell far from the tree.”

  So she did know.

  “No worries.” Andrew smiled at Doug. “I don’t think we ought to be held responsible for who fathered us.”

  Elyse didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t have agreed more.

  “Thanks.” Doug leaned over and kissed his aunt’s forehead. “I’m going to go get something to eat and let you visit with your good Samaritans.”

  Elyse cringed at his inadvertent use of the same words Zeke had used.

  When the door swooshed shut behind Doug, Andrew tried again to step behind her, and this time she let him.

  “Elyse has been taking good care of Pal.” Andrew looked at Elyse expectantly.

  “Oh? I’m so glad.” Maxine smiled. “How is he?”

  “Fine.” She looked over her shoulder at Andrew. Maybe he’d fill in the blanks.

  Andrew’s eyes widened. “Elyse has three other dogs, and Pal loves them. I know he misses you, but right now he’s having the time of his life.”

  Maxi
ne’s eyes filled with tears, and she reached toward Elyse.

  Elyse took her veined hand and patted it.