by Jodi Thomas
Slowly she began to see what he was doing. Marty was weaving together his adventures to include her.
“Remember that time we got lost in the subways of New York? You wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo, and between us we couldn’t read the map on the subway car. I was never so glad to climb out of that hole and see daylight. Even the New York air smelled good.”
She smiled. “It wasn’t my fault; you said you could read the map. You’re the great adventurer who knows every continent.”
He laughed. “I can read a map. Well, usually I can. My favorite part that day was buying hot dogs in Central Park and ending up feeding the buns to the squirrels.”
“A few of those squirrels looked like huge rats.” She laughed, remembering that once he’d told her about the rats in Central Park.
“I like the times we went skiing in the Alps. Remember the Black Forest and how you wanted that stupid cuckoo clock, but I knew I’d have to make room in my backpack for it? After we lugged it around for days, it never did keep time.”
“We threw it away in Paris, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, in that little village we found when we were biking. Remember the one where no one spoke English and we had to get by on what little I learned in one semester of French back in high school?”
“Your French is terrible.”
“I know; I’ll work on it before we go again.”
“I hated the cold, but I loved the lodge.” She smiled, remembering a picture she’d seen of a farm in France. “Didn’t you say the place we stayed was three hundred years old?”
“Four, I think, and judging from the bed we slept in, the mattress was the same age.”
Ronny raised her head. “I can’t remember, Marty, did we make love there?”
“We did, great passionate love. The kind that left both of us mindless for a while. Your body was made for loving, Ronny. The best part of loving you is spooning with you afterward when you’re all warm against me, like we’re not two people but two parts of one.”
“Like salt and pepper shakers that fit together.”
He laughed. “The next time we travel let’s buy some of those funny sets. They’d look great on that shelf in the kitchen, and they’d be a lot easier to get home than that damn clock.”
She nodded, not telling him that she’d taken the shelf down to paint two years ago and forgotten to put it back.
He fell asleep telling her that when he woke they’d remember the time they took a train from Chicago to Albuquerque and made love in every empty private car along the way.
Ronny sat in the silence with the blinking machines surrounding her and realized she’d never gone more than a few hundred miles in her life, but she’d carry the memories of everything they’d talked about as if they were the only memories she possessed.
A little before dawn, she fell asleep thinking of the other adventures he’d tell her that they’d shared when he woke. She’d ask him to describe how they made love and if they ever fought. She’d ask him about the food they ate in the jungle and in Paris when they slept beside a bridge because he lost his wallet. That would be a fun memory to build.
Only Marty never woke. He left her while she slept, holding his hand.
He left her with the memories of a perfect world.
Chapter 28
APRIL 10
TYLER WRIGHT WOKE MARTHA Q BEFORE EIGHT THE NEXT morning to ask her if Mr. Carleon would mind coming to the phone. He said he didn’t have the man’s cell number or he wouldn’t have bothered Martha Q.
She trudged up the stairs and knocked on Mr. Carleon’s door, then waited in the hallway when he took the call.
She listened to Carleon talking to the funeral director long enough to guess what had happened, then rushed to her room to dress in one of her best jogging suits. When Mr. Carleon came back down the stairs to leave ten minutes later, Martha Q was ready.
“If you’ve no objection, I’d like to go with you, Anthony.” It was the first time she’d used his Christian name, but she thought it was about time. “Tyler wouldn’t have called you unless there has been a death, and I can think of only one that would concern you. I’d like to go to help, if you’ve no objection. Ronny is as dear to me as a daughter.” Since she had no daughter, Martha Q had no idea how dear that was, but it sounded good.
“That’s very kind of you, Martha,” he said. “I’m sure Ronny can use a friend right now.”
“And you,” she added. “Marty was your friend too. I want you to know I’ll be there for you as well if you need a shoulder to cry on.”
“Thank you. I’ll miss him, you know. We’ve been talking of this day for months. Marty Winslow was a brilliant man who never seemed to plan his life, but he did plan his death. I have many details to put into action before I have time to grieve the loss of a friend and an employer.”
As they walked out the door, Martha Q added, “I’ll do whatever I can. Ronny will take this hard, I’m afraid. I was there when she thought she lost him two years ago.” She handed Carleon her keys. “I hope you don’t mind driving?”
“Of course not.” He opened the car door for her. “Should we call her mother to be with her at this time?”
“No, there’s no need to make it harder than it has to be. Dallas Logan complains she’s dying every few months. If we ask her to come over, all she’ll talk about is her funeral. Says she has no reason to live now that her Howard is gone and her daughter ran away. I try to tell Dallas that daughters who are twenty-seven don’t run away, they just leave, but she doesn’t listen.”
Martha Q knew Mr. Carleon couldn’t be counted on to keep up the conversation, so she’d help him out by talking as he drove. “If you ask me, Howard Logan is up in heaven on his knees every single morning praying that the Lord will let Dallas live a long life so he’ll have a little more peace in the hereafter.”
Mr. Carleon didn’t say a word. He just drove the few blocks to the duplex.
Tyler and the sheriff were already there sitting on the front porch.
Martha Q greeted them with a nod and asked if she could see Ronny. She really didn’t feel like she needed permission to enter a place she owned, but it pays to be respectful at times of grief.
When she went in, Ronny was sitting beside Marty’s bed. He looked like he was sleeping, but all the machines were off.
Martha Q waited until Ronny looked up at her and then whispered, “You said your good-bye to him, child?”
Ronny nodded.
“Well then, there’s much that needs doing. How about I walk you through the beginning until you get your footing?”
Ronny stood, moving so slowly she looked like she’d aged overnight. She leaned over Marty and kissed him one last time, then went with Martha Q to her bedroom.
Without a word Martha Q helped her into the shower and stood waiting until she finished. Then, wrapped in a towel, Ronny sat and let the older woman comb her hair. She looked hollow, as if someone had carved the insides out of her and left only the shell.
Martha Q talked about how pretty Ronny’s hair was and how the day would seem endless, but the night would come just as the morning would tomorrow. She had no idea if Ronny heard her, but it didn’t matter.
The morning nurse came in and rebandaged Ronny’s arm. The cut was no more than a thin line of scab; bruises ran from shoulder to elbow. Both women helped her dress in a simple navy dress.
“You can do this, Ronny,” Martha Q whispered as they moved back into the living room. “Death knocks on all doors whether we want it to come or not. The only advice I can give you is to not think about anything but putting one foot in front of the other. You’ll make the hard climb one step at a time. That’s what survivors do.”
Tyler Wright had taken Marty’s body away and most of the machines had been shoved against the far wall. Someone had set up chairs around the fireplace even though it wasn’t cold enough to light the fire. Coffee percolated in the kitchen.
Mr. Carleon took Ronny’s hand and sa
t beside her, explaining all the details Marty had already taken care of concerning what he wanted at his funeral. He insisted that he wanted to be buried here in Harmony in a simple graveside service. Marty had instructed Mr. Carleon to buy two plots in the Harmony Cemetery the day after he arrived.
“He said”—Carleon picked his words carefully—“that you could leave the space beside him empty. If you married and wanted to be buried elsewhere, you might consider putting up a bench so you could sit beside him now and then. He said he liked the idea of watching you growing old and knowing that you hadn’t forgotten him.”
Ronny nodded, but she didn’t ask questions. When she looked up at the silver-haired man who’d been with Marty for years, he seemed to read her mind.
“I’ll stay for as long as you need me. He would have wanted me to, and I find I’ve grown very fond of you and this little town. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of before I leave.”
Finally, Ronny seemed to wake from her trance. “Where will you go?” she asked, as if suddenly her family were falling apart.
“I don’t know. When I left with Marty to come here, the Winslows terminated my employment within hours, but don’t you worry, I’ve got enough money saved to live comfortably just about anywhere in the world.”
Martha Q, who was listening, suddenly realized that if Mr. Carleon left, she’d miss him. The fact shocked her. She hadn’t missed a man in years. In fact, the last few husbands she had been looking forward to missing for months before they finally left.
Throughout the morning people came and went from the duplex. The preacher. The postmaster, who’d heard the news. The boys next door. As the word spread around town, people came bringing food and flowers as if they’d known Marty for years. Even the three widows Martha Q was boarding came. They’d never met Marty, but they cried just the same.
The only person who didn’t come was Dallas Logan. Her only child had just lost the love of her life, and Dallas couldn’t set aside her anger long enough to comfort Ronny.
It made Martha Q so mad she hugged Ronny every chance she got while she plotted to thump Dallas Logan a good one if she ever saw the woman again.
In the evening, the cook at the funeral home, stopped in with her baby. She asked Ronny to come back to her apartment in the back of the funeral home. The girls had shared it once before, and Martha Q guessed it was as close as Ronny had to a home that she’d want to go to.
Summer talked Ronny into taking a walk, leaving Martha Q and Mr. Carleon alone in the little duplex apartment.
“It’s been a long day,” she said as she sat next to him on the porch. “And tomorrow won’t be any shorter.”
Anthony nodded. “You were a great help today, Martha.”
“I try to be,” Martha Q lied. Help was rarely something she tried.
“I feel a bit lost,” he admitted. “I don’t think there has been a minute I haven’t had Marty on my mind in two years. Most of my energy has been spent taking care of him, and now I’m not sure what to do with myself.”
She’d been watching Anthony Carleon all day. He was organized, always thoughtful, and as pure a gentleman as she’d ever seen, but the man lived on coffee and nothing else. “It’s been my experience, Anthony, that the only cure for feeling lost is home-cooked food. How about we go back to my place and raid the fridge?”
He offered a tired smile. “That sounds like a good idea, my dear.”
A few minutes later when they climbed the steps of the bed-and-breakfast, the three little widows were waiting for them. All three were so angry they looked like they’d been wound up too tight and couldn’t stop jittering.
The trio had been told by the sheriff to quit following Bryce Galloway, but they were determined, even if threatened at gunpoint, to continue their quest. They’d followed him into the cleaners and asked to see the jacket he turned in.
The little lady behind the counter didn’t understand why. Joni Rosen, the leader, made up a story about being Bryce’s mother and said she’d put something in his pocket at church and he must have forgotten it was there.
Martha Q thought the story lacked her own natural creativity, but she nodded and encouraged Joni to continue. “And did you find your missing valuable?”
Joni smiled. “No, but we found this.”
She held up one piece of straw. “Talk’s all over town about how someone tried to poison one of Nevada Britain’s horses. Well, ladies and gentleman, I have the proof right here.”
“You mean Nevada McDowell’s horses. She’s married, you know.” Martha Q liked to use the right name. She always hated it when people called her by the wrong last name. Usually when it happened, she had to fight down the urge to hit them up the side of their head and tell them to read the paper now and then. She’d made the front page in her wedding dress all seven times.
“Whatever,” Joni said. “Back to the find. A clue. Horses hang out in barns. This proves Bryce was in a barn, therefore he was probably the one who tried to kill the horse.”
Martha Q doubted one piece of straw would do the trick, but she decided to do all she could to keep the widows off spying and out of the house. “This is great, ladies. Keep up the good work.”
About that time Bryce pulled up out front and the widows scattered.
Martha Q and Anthony remained on the porch.
Bryce whistled as he walked up the steps. “Good evening,” he said, obviously in a good mood.
“Evening,” Martha Q offered in return. “Had a busy day?”
“Not particularly.” Bryce passed them without stopping to talk. “Just looking over some investments.”
He’d disappeared inside before she could ask any questions.
Anthony leaned close and whispered, “My friend in Houston checked on him. Nothing. He’d been questioned twice about fights he’d been in, but charges were never filed.”
“Money bought him out of trouble,” she whispered back, loving being so close to Mr. Carleon.
They stood, listening to Bryce run up the stairs. Finally, when the third-floor door slammed, Anthony offered his arm. “I believe, Martha, we have a date waiting in the kitchen.”
“A date?” Martha Q grinned as she curled her hand around his arm. “Does it come with a good-night kiss?”
Anthony looked more relaxed in the porch light’s glow than she’d ever seen him. “It just might, dear lady. It just might.”
Chapter 29
APRIL 10
CORD LEFT NEVADA SLEEPING ON THE BLANKETS IN THE hay and moved to the door of the barn loft. It was sunup and he should be at the bunkhouse giving the men orders for the day, but he didn’t want to leave her. Even after he’d held her close all night, he was still hungry for the feel of her against him. She was quickly becoming an addiction that went all the way to the bone. It occurred to him that if he’d known her, really known her, before he went to prison, he would have died of starvation for the feel of her in the six years he’d been behind bars.
She’d teased him about having a girlfriend when Ronny called concerning the man Cord was trying to find, but Nevada would have to be blind to not see that she was the only woman he looked at. Cord was falling hard for his temporary wife. He already knew that when their time was over and he had to leave, his heart would be staying behind.
He’d held her all night long. He’d always thought of her as headstrong and wild. Only yesterday he’d seen her broken, and he never wanted to see her like that again. Whoever poisoned the horse must have known how it would hurt her. Someone wanted her shattered, unable to fight, but why? Surely not over land? If Bryce was to blame, he wouldn’t have needed to break her to get her to sell the land. His family was rich enough to buy half the ranches in Texas.
He pulled out his cell and called Galem, passing along what needed to be done on the ranch. Then Cord asked if Galem would tell Jackson and his brothers to wait for him in the bunkhouse kitchen. When Galem confirmed his order, Cord added that he wanted Zeb to pack lunch and a rifl
e and be at the horse barn in ten minutes. Cord was taking no chance of anyone who didn’t belong stepping foot in the place again.
“If Zeb sees a stranger’s car turn off the county road onto the ranch, tell him to fire off a couple of shots. I want no one stepping on the Boxed B that doesn’t belong.”
“Will do,” Galem answered. “He’ll be on his way to act as guard in a few minutes.”
The horse barn was a good place to station a guard. From the loft opening one man could see the land all the way to where their road hooked up to the county road. The only other entrance into the ranch was eight miles farther down, and Cord planned to bust the dam at that end. Within an hour the dirt road would be so muddy not even a tank could get down it.
“You know, Galem, this trouble isn’t over.” Cord needed to be honest, with himself and the cook. “We may have hard times coming.”
“I know. We all know, Boss. Only I’m thinking you may be wrong about Bryce Galloway being behind all this trouble. He ain’t got the balls. I think he wants Nevada back, but he won’t face you.”
Cord hadn’t met the man, but from what Nevada had told him, he didn’t like Bryce. Maybe Galem was right; the ex-husband did seem to be more the type to bully Nevada, or even frighten her, to get what he wanted, than to come straight on. “I’m not taking any chances.”
“I agree. Nevada’s old man made his share of enemies, and even you made a few when you fired men those first few days. In Harmony you’ll be hard-pressed to find a dozen people who like the Britains, and most would question your sanity for marrying one. They’ll wonder why you’d want to step between Nevada and her ex.”
“They don’t know me.” Cord grinned, thinking no one would ever understand how he felt about Nevada.
Galem laughed. “You got a point, but the men here are with you.”
“Then we make our stand here.”
Cord walked to where Nevada slept. When he tried to wake her with a touch, she only curled deeper into the blanket.