Mandy moved over to the dressing table and tentatively touched a desiccated homecoming mum corsage. "I didn't think he'd just shut the door."
"That's all he was ever good at," Jenny said from the hall, "shutting doors."
She turned and went into her old room, finding it in a similar state of preservation. Unlike her baby sister, Jenny had left the house with little thought of ever coming back. The books she hadn't cared to keep were still in the shelves, and the drawings of life on the ranch were carefully pinned in place on the board above the drawing table.
Kate came up behind her and said, "You always saw it with such clear eyes."
Startled, Jenny said, "What do you mean?"
Kate pointed to a sketch of a Mexican shearer holding down a ewe. "Look at his face. Bone tired and hot as hell. I can smell the wool, feel the dirt, hear the flies buzzing."
"Daddy would have said I should have been in the pen helping," Jenny said softly.
"Daddy said a lot of things. Why'd you stop drawing like that, Jenny?"
"It all got harder after Mama died."
"You were the only one who ever understood her," Mandy said from behind them.
"Honey, you were too little when she passed to know that," Jenny said.
"Daddy told me," Mandy answered.
Jenny and Kate both stared at her slack jawed. "Daddy told you," Kate finally managed. "What did he say?"
Lowering her voice and deepening her accent, Mandy said, "I always told that woman she should get the hell off this ranch and take Jenny with her. Two peas in a pod those two. Damned if I could figure either one of 'em out."
"I wouldn't exactly call that a tender insight," Jenny said sarcastically.
"Maybe not," Mandy countered, "but he was right."
Jamming her hands in the pockets of her jeans, Kate turned and stalked out of the room.
Kate put on a pot of coffee for herself and made ice tea for Mandy and Jenny. The three of them settled in the rockers on the porch and sat silently looking out across the yard to the limestone cliffs on the other side of the bluff. Off to the left, just barely visible above the live oaks, the blades of the windmill beat out a squeaky rhythm as Mandy filed her nails in perfect unison.
No matter where their lives had taken them, the three were ranch women in their hearts. They felt the natural ease of the late afternoon settle down beside them as the whitetail does and bucks came ambling to the deer feeder at the edge of the yard.
A jackrabbit stared at them through the wire net of the fence, his long whiskers twitching, and out over the canyon, three buzzards flew in a lazy circle. Kate sighed when she saw the black scavengers.
"What?" Jenny asked.
"I guess I better get out there tomorrow and find out what's dead."
"Isn't that up Baxter's Draw?" Jenny asked.
"Well, I'll be damned. You haven't forgotten everything useful you ever knew."
"No, I haven't, and I can still sit a horse. Unless Daddy finally cut a road up there, you'll have to ride in. I'll do it. The funeral's not until 5 o'clock, right?"
"Yeah, Daddy always said he wanted to be buried at sunset. You sure you can handle riding up there?"
"I want to," Jenny said. "It'll give me some time to think before I have to deal with the church ladies."
"Well, alright then. Horsefly's still in good shape, take him."
"My God, how old is that horse anyway?"
"Pushing 20, but he's still game. I had him out riding fence yesterday and he was slinging his head to run. I'll get up and get him ready for you."
"No, I can handle it. You know what Daddy always said . . ."
Their three voices finished in chorus, "Saddle your own horse, gal. Ain't nobody in this life gonna saddle it for you."
3
Jenny stared at her open suitcase. She hadn't planned to ride up a draw, but she guessed jeans and a Polo would do. Unfortunately, she didn't have any boots. On a chance, she opened the closet and found her old Justins still sitting in the back corner. They slipped on her feet with well-worn familiarity, the tall riding heels boosting her 5'5" frame up a notch or two.
The dusty hatbox on the top shelf yielded a straw Stetson. She twisted her dark hair back in a loose ponytail and put the hat on, looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't see a graphics designer from New York City. The woman in the glass never left the ranch.
Could a pair of boots and a hat turn back time and change your reality? She chuckled, shrugging at her own reflection. Too early in the day for that kind of philosophizing.
She opened the door and slipped quietly into the hall. Through the window at the end of the long corridor she could make out a faint glow in the east.
Jenny walked softly, muting the fall of the boot heels on the hardwood floor. Kate would be up and about already, but it would be hours before Mandy grudgingly climbed out of bed. The crack of noon had always been more than that girl could handle.
The morning air was cool and pleasant when Jenny stepped out on the porch. Kate was leaning against the open barn door drinking a cup of coffee. She gave Jenny a beckoning wave.
As Jenny approached the barn, Kate reached behind her and retrieved an empty tin mug, which she held out.
Jenny took the cup, keeping it steady while Kate poured steaming coffee from a thermos. "Still take it black?" Kate asked.
"As sin," Jenny answered, closing her eyes at the first sip of the strong brew. "You still make it just right. How long have you been up?"
"I don't know. I think it was about 4. What time is it now?"
Jenny squinted at her wristwatch. "A little before six."
"I let Horsefly out in the pen and threw a saddle up on the rail for you. Put some water and a sandwich in the saddle bag. Long way up to the draw. The 30-30 in the scabbard's loaded. One in the chamber."
"Thanks. I didn't think about taking a gun."
"It's kinda snaky up there in the rocks," Kate said. "Watch out for rattlers. I'm assuming you could still hit one."
"A rattlesnake is good inspiration to make a clean shot," Jenny said shuddering. "I hate those damn things." Without preamble, she added. "Show me."
Kate set her cup down on a bale of hay and walked into the barn. Jenny followed her to the back where the dirt was raked clean. Glancing up, she saw the freshly splintered wood where the bullet hit and as her eyes moved around the area, she made out the dark stains on the wood.
"What did he use?" she asked.
"That old .45."
"The Peacemaker?"
"Yeah, it was his favorite gun."
They stood in silence for a couple of minutes before Jenny said, "You don't think it was a suicide, do you?"
"Do you?" Kate countered.
"The thing about the hat bothers me," she admitted. "Was he sick or anything?"
"I asked the same thing. Coroner said he was healthy as a horse."
"Money problems?"
"None."
"Was anybody mad at him?"
Kate stared at her slack jawed. "Seriously Jenny? Daddy pissed people off for the pure pleasure of it. I'm sure most of the folks coming to that church today will be there just to make sure he's really dead."
"Were any of them mad enough to kill him?"
"That I don't know," Kate answered honestly. "But I intend to find out. I think the three of us should talk to Lester Harper when the service is over."
"Lester's still the sheriff? What is he? 105?"
"Not quite," Kate laughed, "but damned close. I'm thinking the Texas Rangers should review the case. I know the Captain in San Antonio. He'll send someone if I ask him to. He owes me."
"Old boyfriend?" Jenny asked, grinning.
"Old poker debt," Kate laughed.
"Why are you still alone, Katie?" Jenny asked. "It can't be easy running your place all by yourself. Don't you get lonely?"
Kate stiffened. "I make out fine. The last thing I need is a man underfoot. I don't see you rushing down the aisle either."
/>
"Daddy didn't do us any favors when it comes to thinking well of marriage," Jenny said.
"It wasn't just Daddy," Kate said in a low voice.
"Please don't start," Jenny said pleadingly. "I can't bury Daddy and fight with you over Mama in the same day."
"You were her favorite, you're always gonna take her side."
"And you were his favorite."
Kate snorted. "Yeah, right."
"That's why he was the hardest on you, Katie. He expected the most."
"And he let me know all the time how much I let him down."
Jenny started to answer, but Kate held up her hand. "You're burning daylight. Go find out what's dead up that draw, okay?"
The corners of Jenny's mouth pulled into a frown, but she nodded in agreement. "What are you doing this morning?"
"I'm headed into town to make sure everything's ready for the service. And the warehouse called. Daddy had an order in for a load of feed; I have to pick it up."
"Didn't Daddy have anyone to help him out here?"
"Yeah, Pablo and Ramone will be here by the time I get back. I told them to take a day or two off, but I need their help with the feed. That's all we're doing work-wise today."
"What time do we need to leave for the church?"
"The ladies are serving coffee beforehand. The funeral is at 5, so I reckon we better pull out about 3."
"I completely forgot to ask, where are we burying him?"
"Here, on the ranch, in the old cemetery."
"But Mama is buried in town," Jenny said. "Didn't he want to be next to her?"
Kate stared at the ground for a minute, surprised by the lump in her throat. "He left burial instructions at the lawyer's office to be opened before the will was read. He said he wanted to be here."
"What did he really say?" Jenny asked, her voice soft.
"He wrote, 'That woman was my hell on earth and I will not spend eternity beside her.'"
"She was his hell?" Jenny asked indignantly. "He actually said that?"
"Let it go, Jenny," Kate said, her voice rough. "I think they were pretty much each other's hell. Let's try not to continue the tradition. How about we bury more than Daddy today? We're all that's left, you, me and Mandy. Let's do better by each other."
The sisters exchanged a long look over the spot where their father died, and reached a silent agreement. They both smiled.
"I have a horse to saddle," Jenny said.
"Best git'er done," Kate said, turning to retrieve her coffee. She took a few steps and then tossed a look over her shoulder, "Remember to shoot the snakes and not your own fool self."
Jenny rolled her eyes. Just like Daddy.
4
Jenny rode whenever she could, but a leisurely walk through Central Park couldn't compare to being out at sunrise on a Texas spring morning. Horsefly nickered in what she hoped was recognition when she saddled him, and stood patient and still as she climbed onboard.
Kate opened the gate into the pasture for her and closed it behind her. "You sure you know the way?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I have my cell phone if I get in trouble."
"You'll have a signal about half the way," Kate said.
"Then I'll only get in half trouble," Jenny said, grinning.
She turned Horsefly and started across the pasture letting the surefooted old pony find his way. He knew the ranch better than any of them. She was almost tempted to say, "Baxter's Draw, please," and just sit back and see what he'd do.
Off to her right a Canyon Wren laughed high up in the rocks and she could hear, but not see the Painted Buntings in the tree tops, their song like the tinkling of broken crystal.
At the same time that her eyes, accustomed to the sights of the city, found everything around her a little surreal, her body breathed out a long sigh of relief. The sounds of the countryside waking up filled the air, but everything else was so quiet -- no blaring horns, no sirens, no babble of voices.
Why Langston Lockwood married a well-educated, artistic woman from the North and brought her here, Jenny would never understand, but Irene Lockwood had come to love this land. She could have been happy here if Langston hadn't tried to keep her as penned in as his livestock.
"Why do you and daddy fight all the time, Mama?" 10-year-old Jenny had sadly asked after a night of raised voices and a day of icy silence.
"It was nothing sweet thing," Irene said, tying blue satin ribbons on Mandy's blonde braids and kissing the top of the five-year-old's head.
Jenny didn't know the cancer was already in her Mother's body or that it would kill her a year later. The day of the funeral Langston turned to 15-year-old Kate and said, "You'll be taking care of your sisters now. Get supper on the table at 6 every night. Nothing changes. You understand?"
But everything changed. Jenny worked hard in school, graduated at 17, and won a scholarship to the University of Texas. Langston's reaction to the news was quick and short. "I ain't paying for nothing."
"I'm not asking you to," Jenny snapped back. She packed her bags, took off for Austin, worked three jobs, got her degree, and moved to New York when she was 21, the year Mandy graduated from high school and went to college with Langston's full approval and complete financial support.
Jenny couldn't be mad at her baby sister. Mandy came into the world like a beam of sunlight. She brightened any room just by walking in, and her sweetness was genuine. Jenny knew there was a lot more going on in that "pretty little head" than Mandy let on.
If any of them had a right to be bitter it was Kate. She worshipped their father and smarted the most under his criticism. It galled Jenny to watch him dole out enough affection to keep his eldest daughter on the hook, but never enough to satisfy her yearning to follow in his footsteps as the son he never had.
There wasn't one job on the ranch Kate couldn't do as well as any man. She possessed the mental agility to instantly map every rock, every fence line, and every head of livestock. Langston worked her like one of the hands and kept her dangling. "You almost make me think I should leave this place to you, Sister," he'd say, "and then you go pull some damned high-headed stunt and get too big for your britches. You need to learn to take orders, girl."
Once Mandy was off at college, Kate told the old man to go to hell. She talked Bob Stevens at the bank into loaning her money on nothing more than her name, bought a place, and worked like a dog. It took her five years to pay off the loan. She didn't have to beg to get the second loan. She paid that one off in three years and now she owned 2000 acres. It was nothing compared to the Rocking L's 10,000, but she earned it the hard way.
As Jenny's thoughts wandered, Horsefly had been steadily carrying them up the draw. Glancing at her wristwatch, she was surprised that more than an hour had passed. The column of circling buzzards was in sight now. Kate reined the horse to a stop and stood up in the stirrups. She could make out a dark shape at the edge of a stand of cedar.
Just then an ATV engine roared to life off to her left. Startled, Horsefly reared, catching Jenny off balance and sending her flying out of the saddle. She landed hard in the dirt. The engine shut off and she heard running feet.
"Oh my God. I am so sorry. Damn. Let me help you up."
Jenny looked up into the face of a man roughly her own age. He hadn't bothered to shave this morning, and even as she struggled to catch her breath, her brain registered approval of the rough stubble and the solid, tanned jaw line it covered. She took the hand he offered and sat up gingerly.
"Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously.
She shook her head, still struggling to get her breath. Horsefly tentatively edged up beside her and nervously nosed her shoulder. She leaned into the horse's head reassuringly.
"I didn't see you," the man said. "Why in the world are you on a horse?"
That did it.
"Why in the world am I on a horse?" she gasped indignantly. "Why in the hell are you on that . . . that . . . contraption . . . and what are you doing on my land?"
; "Okay," he said, sitting back on his heels and grinning. "You'll live. I spotted the buzzards and came up to check it out. People don't actually ride horses around pastures any more. This isn't the wild west."
She fixed him with a frosty glare. "I asked you why you're on my land."
"Well, technically I'm on Langston Lockwood's land," he said affably, taking off his hat and running his hand through his thick black hair. "The fence was down, so I trespassed long enough to find that cow down over there. She's dead. The calf, too. Who are you anyway?"
"I'm Jennifer Lockwood," she said, getting up and dusting herself off.
The man kept the hat in his hand and stood up in one long, fluid motion. He towered over her. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Lockwood," he said.
Dear God. He must be better than 6'4" she thought. And those blue eyes . . . "Damn it," she spat out, annoyed with herself for getting distracted. "Nice to meet me? You idiot! You nearly made me break my neck!"
"Wow," he said, still grinning. "You are a Lockwood." And then he added seriously. "I'm sorry about your father."
"Thank you," she managed. "Now get the hell off this ranch and take that THING with you."
"I kinda need that thing to get the hell off the ranch," he pointed out helpfully.
"Who are you," she demanded, "so I can report you for trespassing."
"Joshua Baxter," he said.
That drew her up short. "Baxter," she said. "As in Baxter's Draw?"
"Yes, ma’am," he continued cheerfully, putting his hat back on at a rakish angle. "I'm trespassing on land your family stole from mine. Small world, huh?"
5
Kate stood with her arms crossed listening to Jenny's irate recitation about her encounter with Joshua Baxter.
"And he had the nerve to say we stole their land," she finished with a splutter.
"You done?" Kate asked.
"Yes," Jenny said.
"Okay. First, are you hurt?"
"Just my pride and probably a big bruise on my backside."
The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories Page 2