by J. S. Marlo
With shaking hands, she unfolded the gift. Tears leaked from her eyes as she hugged her family album against her chest. “Thank you.”
***
From the outside, Exquisite Creations and Designs looked like an expensive boutique. Once inside, Jackson approached a rack and browsed through the gowns. For the price of one dress, he could buy two suits with shirts, matching ties, and cufflinks.
“May I help you, sir?” A graying gentleman obviously ready for retirement stood with his back straight and his hands neatly clasped together in front of his belt buckle.
“I’m Detective Jackson, and I’m investigating a crime.” To dispel any confusion over his identity, he showed his badge before he presented a copy of the torn receipt. “Could you trace this receipt to a customer, please?”
“It may take me a few minutes.” As stoic as a butler, the old man retreated behind the counter. Jackson followed him but remained on the other side as the man pulled a box from somewhere below and placed it on the counter. “We keep a carbon copy of all receipts. It’s a matter of flipping through the receipt books.”
Old-fashioned and low tech, but efficient.
“You have no idea how long ago the gown was purchased, do you, Detective?”
“Unfortunately, no. Do the words ‘shimmering emerald gow’ or gown written on it mean anything to you?”
“I’m guessing it describes the dress that was bought.” That was the same conclusion Jackson had reached, but he’d hoped someone in the store would remember the dress and the buyer. “The boutique belongs to my wife, and I’m afraid I’m not familiar with all her designs. On the other hand, this is my grandson’s handwriting. Justin is in the back sorting new merchandise. Let me call him. He might save both of us precious time.”
There were no customers in the store. Nothing urgent beckoned the owner’s husband, though he might be in a hurry to get rid of him. In the minds of most people, police and business didn’t mix well.
“Justin!”
A lanky teenager dashed inside from a door located in the back corner of the store and stopped at the counter. “Yes, Grandpa?”
“Justin, this is Detective Jackson. He’d like to ask you some questions about a sale you made.” The grandfather placed the torn receipt in Justin’s hand. “Do you remember that emerald gown?”
“Yes, I…” Sweat glistened on the boy’s eyebrows as he tensed up. “I didn’t steal the money. I swear. I just rang two different transactions. Grandma said it was okay.”
“Easy, son. I’m not here to arrest you.” That Justin remembered the transaction pleased Jackson. “Just tell me what happened the day that gown was bought.”
The boy relaxed a notch. “There was this guy. He was tall, kinda old, forty or fifty.”
The grandfather cleared his throat, and Jackson swallowed a chuckle at the boy’s discomfiture.
“Middle age, I guess.” The boy shrugged before continuing his narrative. “Anyway, he was with a woman. She looked like a regular mom. You know—like my friends’ moms. I think she was married, because the guy said something about her husband.”
The doctor had mentioned an ex-wife. Maybe Salinski liked to play in forbidden territory with married women. “Keep going, Justin. You’re doing great.”
“The woman loved the dress, but she didn’t have enough money. While she tried it on, the guy gave me his credit card number and told me to charge the balance to his card. You should have seen the guy’s eyes when she came out of the dressing room.” The freckles on the boy’s face danced as he grinned. “The babe was smoking hot.”
The woman had gone from a regular mom to a babe. That must have been one fabulous gown.
The grandfather shook his head. “Tell me you didn’t address the customers in those terms.”
“Of course not. I’m on my best behavior when there’s someone in the store, but he’s a cop.”
Jackson wasn’t sure if the boy meant that as an insult or a compliment. “Keep going, Justin.”
“I made up some story about the dress being on sale and charged her what the guy had told me to charge her. Then while she changed, I rang his credit card. The guy was so impressed, he gave me a twenty-dollar tip.”
The customer’s behavior didn’t add up. “You mean the man didn’t want the woman to know he paid for her?”
“No. Doesn’t make sense, huh? I mean…” The boy shrugged again. “How was he going to score if she didn’t know he’d paid for her dress?”
“Justin!”
“Sorry, Grandpa, but you should have seen the way he stared at her. He was zooming on the meaty parts.”
A heavy sigh shook the grandfather’s rigid demeanor. “You must excuse my grandson, Detective. I’m afraid his hormones are controlling his brain.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve heard worse.” Jackson pointed at the receipt in Justin’s hand. “I need to have a look at the entire receipt. Can you find it for me, please?”
“Sure. It was back in June, end of June, or maybe July.” Focused on the task, Justin flipped through the receipt books at a far greater speed than his grandfather. “Here it is. July fifth. That’s the man’s receipt—and that’s the woman’s.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Past the stable, at the edge of the woods, a crow croaked at the top of a birch tree. Sitting on the upper board of the paddock gate, Blythe looked up from the bird. He loved early afternoon when the sun had reached its peak but hadn’t yet begun its descent west. The cool breeze blowing from the mountains had dispersed the smell of burning wood, replacing the air with the fresh smell of pine and fir trees.
Mounted on his mare, Hunter emerged from the woods. Trotting behind him was a chestnut horse he’d roped in.
The fire brigade had left the ranch around ten o’clock, but not before many of the firefighters hugged and kissed Riley. Such was the brotherhood to which both her husbands had belonged. The photo album that Blythe had locked safely in the back of her SUV while Riley wished them farewell was proof of their dedication and loyalty toward one of their own. Had he not accompanied Riley, Blythe was convinced one of the men would have stepped forward and provided a compassionate shoulder to cry on.
When Hunter stopped at the gate, Blythe slid down and removed the noose from around the runaway horse’s neck before letting him into the enclosure, and as he closed the gate, he scrutinized Riley’s son. Shoulders slouched, Hunter looped the rope and tied it to his saddle. The dark circles under his eyes showed his weariness, and it concerned Blythe.
“Your shift is over, Hunter.” For hours on end, the young man had searched the woods for the horses that had escaped during the night, and he needed a break. “You saddle down.”
“I’m not done.” He removed his hat and swept his forehead with the back of his hand, adding streaks of dirt to his skin. “Mom’s foal is still missing.”
“Your girlfriend is asleep in the barn.” From what Blythe had overheard, Piper had stayed up all night, finally crashing shortly after lunch. “You go take a nap with her.” As he spoke, Blythe patted Hunter’s mare on the neck. “I’ll borrow your horse and look for the foal.”
Without further objections, Hunter dismounted and handed him the reins. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s sad and tired, but she’s handling the situation.” Last he’d seen her, she was in her SUV talking with her insurance broker. “You take care of Piper, and you let me worry about your mom.”
A weary smile, so much like his mother’s, crossed his face. “You love her, don’t you?”
His hand stilled on the horse’s mane. With all the commotion, Riley hadn’t had time to mention their new relationship to her son, so he’d tried to conceal his feelings toward her. It seemed he’d been less than successful. With Oliver’s death still fresh in his son’s memory, Blythe was unsure how he’d react to the news. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Hunter’s feelings, except he couldn’t lie, not without betraying his love for her. “I do, Hunter. I love your mom
very much.”
“Then you should tell her.”
The response warmed Blythe’s heart. If that wasn’t a sign of approval on Hunter’s part, nothing was. “I did. Last night.” And when the dust settled in both their lives, he intended to marry her.
“You did?” A grin crinkled her son’s eyes. “And?”
As much as he liked Hunter and wanted to build a relationship with the young man, some details only belonged to Riley and him. “I’m here, am I not?”
“Yeah, you are, and I’m glad.” Hunter gave him a clap on the shoulder. “See you later, Hux.”
***
Riding Hunter’s mare, Blythe followed a trail along a stream and looked for signs of the missing foal. Attached to the side of the saddle, the lasso rubbed the back of his right thigh.
It’d been years since he’d gone horse riding in the mountains, and it’d been even longer since he’d used a lasso. Back in his younger days as a wrangler in his first television series, he could spin rope tricks with the same ease his mentor on the set bent his elbow and drowned his whiskey.
The trail veered away from the stream. As he switched direction, a ring disturbed the peaceful seclusion of the forest. He retrieved his cell from the back pocket of his jeans, but before he answered, he looked at the screen. The number dampened his mood.
He was tired of arguing with his in-laws over Claire’s care, and each new phone call only exacerbated the resentment between them. The brain surgery served no purpose other than to appease their guilt and sorrow. Claire’s mind was gone, but her body was still here, and it deserved to be treated with dignity. He would not sign the authorization. Not today. Not next week. Not ever. On his return to Winnipeg, he’d inform her parents of his decision in person. The weight of the decision lifted from his shoulders, he turned off his cell without answering and tucked it back into his pocket.
The sound of the water trickling downstream faded, replaced by the rustling of branches. Her head held high, Sweetness neighed. Blythe strained his ears, and amid the rustling leaves, the singing birds, and the tapping of the mare’s hooves, he picked up a faint whimper. “Lead the way, Sweetness.”
The mare entered a clearing where vegetation threatened to overcome an old shack. Puffing and panting near the derelict building, the foal fought with the vines tangled around his front ankles. Never in his life had Blythe been so glad to see an animal.
He dismounted from his horse, tied her to a nearby tree, and grabbed the lasso from her flank. The rope coiled in his left hand and the noose in his right hand, Blythe approached the jittery animal. “Easy, little fellow. Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?” The foal looked like a miniature version of Willow, and he had no doubt his death would have hurt Riley more than the loss of the house.
In a smooth motion, he swung the noose over his head and let it sail. The rope landed around the foal’s neck. Not bad for an old cowboy. Not bad at all.
***
The tranquility of the clearing washed over Riley. She dismounted Willow and tied her mare beside the foal she’d feared dead. To her great pleasure, he didn’t recoil when she patted him. “Good boy.”
Nature had destroyed her ranch, but the storm hadn’t claimed any life, human or animal. She had good insurance; Oliver had insisted on it. What she’d lost would be replaced, and in time, this day would become a distant memory.
After spending an hour on the phone with her insurance broker, she’d looked for Hunter, Blythe, and Piper. She’d found two of them fast asleep in the barn and the other missing. Unsure where Blythe had gone, she’d saddled Willow and came here to seek her sons’ peace, never expecting to find him kneeling on one knee over their graves. She’d never told him about them, and she wanted to believe her little boys’ spirits had somehow drawn him into the clearing so they could meet him. As eerie as it sounded, the thought warmed her soul. She loved Blythe, and it meant a lot to her that he meet all her children.
A tree had fallen beside Nathaniel’s tomb. As she neared, Blythe lifted his head and stood. A wistful smile welcomed her in the folds of his open arms. “Hello, Shamrock.” He whispered softly in her ear, like one would do in the room of a sleeping baby. “Lucky and I are resting.”
“Who’s Lucky?” She eased from his embrace to lead him to a dead tree and sat on its trunk with him.
“The foal.” His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she leaned against him. “I found him tangled in the bushes near the shack, an easy snack for the coyotes. The little fellow is lucky to be alive.”
“Lucky? I like the name. It suits him. Thank you.” Exhausted after a sleepless night and a taxing day, she wanted to fall asleep in his arms.
“You’re welcome. Nathaniel and Trevor Durham.” Their names were spoken reverently, caressing her ear. “Are they yours and Oliver’s little boys?”
“Yes.” The tombstones, with a single date, carried their short stories. “They were born four months premature. We never told Ollie’s mother about them.”
She’d never asked him why he and Claire didn’t have children, but she remembered the sorrow in his voice when he’d talked about Jonathan. Had he been thinking of his son when musing over her boys’ graves? Did he wish for a child of his own? She would have loved to have a child with him, and a pang of regret swept through her heart. There were so many things they’d never discussed.
“After I lost the twins, there were complications. I could never get pregnant again.” Her dreams of having any more children had died with her sons. “Wouldn’t you rather be with a younger woman who could give you a family of your own?”
“Why would I want a different family? Aren’t Hunter and Rowan part of the package?”
Flabbergasted by his quick response, she searched his expression for any sign of disappointment.
“I love you, Shamrock, and your children are the best part of you.” He brushed a tender kiss on her lips. “You and Oliver did a great job raising them. I know they don’t need a new father, but their children will need a grandpa. I wouldn’t mind that job.”
Love shimmered in the depths of his blue eyes like the stars over a midnight lake nestled at the feet of a glacier. “You’re a good man, Blythe.”
“And you’re an amazing woman. What would you say if we rebuild the ranch together? And then, a few years down the road, we’ll take our grandchildren horse riding with us on this magnificent land of yours.”
Falling in love with Blythe wasn’t something she’d planned, but Ollie’s death had crumbled the wall separating friends from lovers. Just as Chad’s death had blurred the line between Ollie’s obligation toward his best friend’s widow and love. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I’m glad you approve.” He delicately cupped the side of her face and nestled her head against his shoulder. “Would you explain to me why Hunter is using the name O’Reilly, not Kendrick or Durham?”
“Kendrick is my maiden name. Hunt and Ro are named after Chad.”
“Now that makes sense.” His thumb drew circles on her cheek, and the gentle motion lured her to dreamland. “May I ask why you didn’t change your name?”
“Try saying Riley O’Reilly five times in a row without stumbling.” When he failed on the third try, she chuckled. “See what I mean?”
“Yes. What about Durham?”
“Ollie had always known me as Kendrick. Keeping my name was never an issue.” And over the years, she had come to value her unique identity. “This is who I am.”
“And I love who you are. I wouldn’t want you to change your name either.”
Puzzled by the statement, she pulled slightly away and looked at his face. He was an excellent actor, and if he meant anything by it, he didn’t show it. “I’m about to fall asleep. We should get back before the insurance adjuster arrives and wakes up Hunter and Piper.”
Small lines creased his forehead. “He’s coming today?”
“It’s a small town, Blythe. Besides, he’s Jeff’s wife’s brother, and Je
ff owed Ollie a favor.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times without making a sound, and she chuckled.
“Jeff is the firefighter who saved my photo album. Now could we head back to the ranch, Mr. Nosy?”
***
The sun hung low in the western sky, and the mountains cast shadows on the devastation surrounding them.
Blythe stood by the fence of the paddock, his arms crossed over the last board. Inside the enclosure, two employees from Vinny’s Stable, a local boarding facility, rounded up the horses.
The water had damaged the roof of the stable, and after meeting with the adjuster, Riley had decided to send the animals away until the repairs were completed. An hour later, the people from Vinny’s Stable had arrived at the ranch with two horse trailers.
Bucking and kicking, Lucky shied away from the employee. The foal was one feisty little thing on four hooves.
He was surprised out of his reverie by the feeling of two arms snaking around his waist from behind and soft curves against his back. Lowering his own arms, he trapped Riley’s hands over his stomach and linked his fingers with hers.
“I need to go shopping for new clothes before I start work on Monday. What would you say if we flew back to Winnipeg tonight?”
The request for shopping didn’t surprise Blythe. Except for the clothes packed in her small suitcase, Riley had lost her entire wardrobe. “Another option would be to leave early tomorrow morning. That way we could spend the evening with Hunter and Piper.” It’d still give them plenty of time for shopping tomorrow and Sunday, not that he knew where she intended to keep those new clothes.
Silent laughter shook her body and rippled though his. “Hunter was on a training exercise last weekend. He hasn’t spent an evening alone with Piper in two weeks. Somehow, I don’t think he wants us to stay too long, not when he has to drive back to school early tomorrow morning. Besides, I’d rather sleep in tomorrow.”