by Leigh Riker
Her mother stood at the sink, looking out the window as if to check the yard for children playing, even though they were all grown and mostly gone. Or else she was watching the ever-present flock of chickens squabble by the henhouse. Her tone was one of defeat. “Yesterday.”
Shadow didn’t believe her; her mother had probably kept this notice for some time, afraid to tell her. She’d taken a hard line with Mama and with Derek the last time she was here. She always hoped there wouldn’t be a next time or more trouble, but there always was.
“This says it’s the final notice.” Shadow gentled her voice. “Mama, they’re going to take your house from you for unpaid property taxes.” The home where she’d insisted on staying. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Her mother turned from the window. “I didn’t want to ask for more help.”
Shadow glanced at the figures in front of her again. She knew all about issues that never disappeared and her talk with Grey at the Circle H had only reminded her of that. “Apparently you haven’t paid taxes for four years.” The total amount was staggering for someone who had few resources.
Her mother’s mouth set. “Where was I going to get the money? It’s not as if Derek has been able to help—though I know he tries—and before your daddy died and the bills came to me to deal with, I didn’t know about the taxes. I still do the best I can, Shadow. Keeping up this farm is hard enough without my daughter scolding me.”
Shadow envisioned the yard outside. Farm was a loose word for the property. The chickens were the only “crop” now, producing enough eggs, her mother had told her, to pay for groceries. “I’m not scolding. I’m trying to understand.” She added in a softer tone, “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but honestly, Mama—did you think the problem would just go away?”
Her mother half smiled. “I kind of hoped it would.”
“So the notices kept coming and you kept ignoring them.”
Her mother looked toward the hallway, perhaps hoping Derek would appear again, making this two against one. Shadow reached out to take her hands. “Nothing is going to make this farm a going concern. I know you wish otherwise, but it really never was.”
“I have nowhere else to go.” Tears filled her eyes. “And what about my chickens? I don’t want to sell them.”
“I know that, but I doubt you’ll have any choice. That’s sad, but—”
“Not like Wilson Cattle,” her mother muttered. “Thousands of acres, all those cows everywhere. That big house. I know that’s what attracted you in the first place. You thought Grey Wilson was your ticket out.”
Shadow flinched. “That’s not true.” But it had been said before.
“You wanted to get away from us,” her mother went on, “and this place.”
Shadow squeezed her hands. “Mama, this isn’t about me and Grey. Or even what happened with Jared. What are you going to do?”
But her mother refused to leave the topic. “Grey Wilson started all this when he killed Jared.”
Shadow sighed. Once her mother brought up her brother’s death, Shadow wouldn’t get anywhere with her.
“What if he finds out about Ava?” she went on. “She has his eyes, Shadow. When I first saw that baby, she broke my heart.”
And her mother rarely saw Ava now. Shadow wondered if that could change when she brought Ava home. She wanted her daughter to know her grandmother. She wanted Ava to feel closer to her. Maybe Shadow could forgive her mother at last and repair their relationship, too. If she couldn’t have the family she’d always hoped for with Grey, maybe she and her mother could work on this one.
“Grey already knows. I told him.”
“Has he seen her”
“Not yet.”
“What happens when he does?”
Shadow took a deep breath. “Right now I have to think of Ava and what’s best for her. She needs me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Considering their last meeting at the ice cream store and Ava’s resentment, Shadow wasn’t so sure anymore. But if Ava stayed with Jenna and David much longer, everything would become even more complicated. Shadow had to make amends with her, which meant bringing Ava to Barren, where they could not only be together but also talk things out. She couldn’t wait to hold her daughter again, to let Ava know how much she loved her. And then she would decide the best time for Grey to meet his daughter.
“You were the one who said I abandoned her, which I never did, but you made me think. I’ve tried to make the best choices for her. That’s what I’m doing now.” Shadow released her mother’s hands. “First, let’s figure out what we’re going to do about this house.”
“I’m staying. I don’t care if Finn Donovan shows up to throw me out.”
Shadow suppressed a twinge of guilt over her refusal to have dinner with him. “He probably will.”
“Then your daddy’s shotgun is still in the front closet. Derek knows how to use it and so do I.” Both of her brothers had been hunters and their game birds had fed the family many times. Shadow had once bagged a pheasant herself for Thanksgiving dinner. She wasn’t a bad shot, either. But the handgun Jared had taken with him to defend her honor that night was another matter; that had only led to tragedy. And where had he gotten it?
Shadow held her mother’s gaze. “Using that shotgun would only mean free lodging for you in the county jail. And you still wouldn’t be able to keep this house.”
Her mother began to fret. “What will I do? Where would I go? David won’t have me in Shawnee Mission, and I won’t create friction between him and Jenna. Cherry and Tanya are living in dorms at school. And what about Derek? I won’t see him become homeless.”
Shadow didn’t mince words. “I’ll do what I can for Derek because he’s my brother and for your sake, Mama.” She smoothed a hand over the final notice on the table. “We’ll figure out your living situation—somehow. You’re always welcome for a few nights at my place, but Ava will have the second bedroom soon. You need to begin sorting and packing—I can help you with that. If we wait, there’ll be no choice.” She breathed in deeply. “Let’s get started.”
* * *
GREY RODE INTO the barnyard with Finn Donovan. With a light touch he reined Big Red to a stop at the barn. His horse, a sorrel that stood nearly sixteen hands high, lived up to its name, which had been the nickname of the great racehorse Secretariat.
He heard Finn sigh in relief. The sheriff wasn’t comfortable on a horse, even though Grey had picked the most placid gelding in the barn for him. Together they’d ridden to and from a corner of Wilson Cattle to inspect the latest broken fence where, despite posting a nightly watch, Grey had lost more stock.
He dismounted then reached for Finn’s reins. “I’ll put these guys inside. Cody can unsaddle then cool them down before he rides out to repair that fence. By now, he should be an expert.”
“Better him than me,” Finn murmured, climbing down with a groan from the bay gelding he’d ridden, however reluctantly. They could have gone cross-country on the Gators or even most of the way in Grey’s pickup, until the ground became too rough and rutted, so he had to admit he’d caved in to the urge to make Finn sweat. He’d heard about him and Shadow.
Finn wiped a hand over his brow. “I hope that’s the end of my punishment.”
Walking between both horses with the reins in hand, Grey led them into the barn’s dark interior, inhaling the familiar scents of hay and grain. To Grey, there weren’t any better smells on Earth, and this most recent loss of cattle reminded him that he might lose the whole ranch.
Several horses were slurping water from their buckets, a sound Grey also liked. He hooked Red and Finn’s horse to the crossties, one behind the other in the aisle, then turned around to see the sheriff still standing by the first stall door, as if he didn’t want to come any farther.
“I haven’t ridden since I was a kid, and then it was pony rides at the Indiana State Fair. Or on a merry-go-round. My experience is limited.”
“You live in Kansas long enough, in a community like Barren where most of us are ranchers, you’ll learn to ride and love it. Might even get a horse or two. Pretty good company,” Grey said.
“So you say.” Finn came down the aisle to the horse he’d borrowed. He stroked a tentative hand down the gelding’s nose. “Sorry, big guy. Nothing personal.”
“This horse took care of you as if you were a baby.” As he might care for Grey’s child, the one he hadn’t yet seen.
Finn said abruptly, “Grey. I hope you’ll stop holding it against me that I asked Shadow out to dinner. She stood me up.” He shook his head. “My ego’s still wounded.”
Grey fought an urge to gloat. He didn’t want to antagonize Finn; he was counting on him to find the rustlers—if not to work with Grey on Jared’s case. In addition, he hoped they might become friends.
“I told you. That’s your business with her.” Not that he had to like it.
He looked around for Cody, who didn’t seem to be in either the barn or the nearby tack room. Goofing off again? He hoped not, but Grey couldn’t fault him. All the feed and water buckets were clean and filled. Cody hadn’t needed a reminder.
“So, where do we stand?” Grey asked. “I need to find out who’s been stealing my cattle. My livelihood and the legacy of this ranch depend on that.”
“I’ll put out another BOLO alert for that white truck.”
Grey patted the two horses’ rumps then crossed his arms. “Most rustlers these days show up in a big semi, but that truck and trailer are pretty modest by comparison. I’m thinking those guys may be amateurs, even though they seem to know their way around the cows.”
Finn agreed. “I think so, too. I didn’t get the chance to tell you while I was trying to stay on that horse, but I’ve talked with my counterparts in neighboring counties. None of them has reported anything close to what’s happened here at Wilson Cattle.”
“I know this sounds paranoid, but what if this is personal?” Certainly Grey had enemies in town. He doubted any of them had turned into cattle rustlers, but he couldn’t dismiss the notion. “What if my missing cattle are someone’s payback for Jared Moran?”
“If that’s so, why wait until now?” Finn frowned. “In the case file—yeah, I took a second look—what’s there doesn’t show you in the best light, Grey.” He tilted his head to study him. “From what I read, you had a motive to kill Jared Moran.”
“Sure, we’d had words before—more than once. A few shoving matches. He didn’t like me dating his sister. I didn’t like him butting in. But that didn’t mean I wanted to kill him. That night he was on this property. Trespassing. Carrying a gun.”
“And you’d just broken his sister’s heart.”
“That gave him a motive, not me. Because of Shadow, Jared came loaded for bear.”
“Giving you the opportunity to blow him away.”
“That would have been in self-defense,” Grey said. “But that’s not how it was.”
Finn ticked off the points. “Motive and opportunity, possibly for both of you. Two out of three. Which leaves the weapon. What about that gun? Did Jared really bring one? Or was it the gun that should have been in your dad’s safe but wasn’t?”
Grey’s pulse jumped. “I don’t know where that other gun went. I told the sheriff then. All I know is, it wasn’t the gun that killed Jared. Maybe my dad had sold it. If he had, he wouldn’t have mentioned it to me. Gun collecting is a hobby of his. The guns come and go. And nobody knows who really pulled that trigger.” Which, after all these years, was still a problem for Grey, one he meant to find the answer to. “Jared brought that gun with him,” Grey insisted. His mouth hardened. “We were boys, Finn—hotheaded, the four of us—including Derek Moran. He and his friend Calvin Stern were there, too. Why don’t you talk to them again?”
Finn ran a hand through his hair. “On what basis? The case is still closed, Grey. Sure would have helped,” Finn said, looking almost sympathetic, “if the weapon had ever been found...but without the gun itself we can’t make a match to the bullet that killed Jared. Somebody knows where that gun—whichever one it was—disappeared to.”
Was Finn accusing him of knowing where it was? Of having used it on Jared that night? The missing weapon was a critical piece of the puzzle. If Finn wouldn’t cooperate, or couldn’t, Grey would have a talk with Calvin Stern.
* * *
JENNA PERCHED ON the end of the sofa in her family room, wanting to talk, while David continued to read the newspaper. He’d come home last night from his extended business trip, but he’d had little to say about his meetings or even Salt Lake City, where his firm had a branch office. There’d been a time, several years ago, when he’d tested the waters with her about a move to Utah, but Jenna had argued then that they had to think about Ava.
Now Shadow was living in Barren and wanted Ava back. “Are you too tired for me to ask you something, honey?”
For a full minute he kept on reading the business section of the Wall Street Journal. The only words they’d exchanged since he’d gotten back had been about his suggestion to move some stocks in their portfolio to better balance the trusts they’d set up. They did this every few months, so Jenna hadn’t thought much of it. “Dave? Did you hear what I said?”
“I heard you.” He turned a page, rattling the paper as he refolded it in the precise way he always did.
Jenna was getting a bad feeling. She decided to just plunge in. “Shadow still wants to take Ava from us.”
“Yes,” he said, “I know.” He didn’t even look up.
He was reading the editorial pages now.
She took a breath. “I’ve said I want Ava to stay. She wants to stay.”
He glanced at her. “Your sister has done the best she could since Ava was born. Maybe she should have gone through with that private adoption, but she chose to keep Ava and that was her right.” His eyes were cool. “I also know that wasn’t easy for her. She and Ava had a hard time, and when Shadow came to us for help we stepped up to the plate. Temporarily, Jenna. If Shadow is ready to take her home now, to the new house, then it’s best—and time—for that to happen.”
“I still want to adopt her.”
He blinked. “Shadow will never sign away her parental rights. I know you want to be a mother, Jenna, and I wish you could be, but we tried. And failed, more times than I care to remember. I’m done.”
Jenna sat there, stunned. She could tell by the set of David’s features that he’d already thought this through, anticipated what she might suggest and removed himself from the equation.
“I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say.” Tossing the paper aside, he rose from his favorite chair. “I didn’t want to have this discussion tonight, either, but I suppose we must.”
Her heart had begun to bang against her ribs. “What discussion?”
He stood over her. “You can call this my midlife crisis, an indulgent fantasy or whatever...” His gaze softened as he seemed to consider what to say next. “But since our last attempt at in-vitro fertilization, frankly, I’ve realized that this preoccupation with having a child by any means possible, including your notion to adopt Ava, has damaged our marriage—at least, for me. Every morning I just want to get out of this house and not come back.”
He hadn’t unpacked last night, she realized. David was always meticulous about that, and the lapse had troubled her, but she’d assumed he was merely exhausted.
“Salt Lake is a more dynamic place, and I’m ready for a change.”
Jenna reeled back, numb with shock. He hadn’t changed from his suit to more casual slacks and a polo shirt, his usual choice when he came home. She wondered if his bags were all stan
ding in the hall upstairs, ready to be taken to the car. “You mean you’re leaving? Is this really about my wanting to have a child, about Ava? Or because you got passed over for the partnership?”
He didn’t disagree, but she had obviously stunned him. “I’ll have a second chance to prove myself in Utah. I’ve been distracted by the situation here,” he said. “But no, that’s not why I want a divorce. I’m disappointed, yes, but that’s not the reason.”
“Divorce?” she echoed. “Is there someone else? In Salt Lake?”
“No one.” He shook his head as if she were slow to understand. “We had some good years, Jenna. Maybe I’ve done this clumsily, and I apologize for that, too, but please don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He walked past her and left the room. “You should think about how to make yourself happy—not through Ava or me. If I were you, I’d drive her home to Shadow tonight.” He paused. “Then maybe Ava would be happier, too.”
CHAPTER NINE
SHADOW RANG JENNA’S front doorbell again. No one had answered the first time and she wondered if she’d misunderstood her sister on the phone. Their conversation had been brief, but that wasn’t unusual, and even though Jenna’s voice had sounded oddly thin to Shadow, she had said she’d be home all day. Shadow could come over anytime. Maybe Jenna was in the backyard, sunning by the new pool she and David had put in last summer.
Jenna had claimed the gorgeous pool was for Ava, another point in what seemed to be an ongoing war for the girl’s loyalty. Shadow had neither the money nor the space in her small rear yard for such an amenity, and she didn’t like the idea of competing for Ava’s affection with material things. She buzzed once more, in case Jenna had gone upstairs and didn’t hear the first two rings.
Still no response.
She had to begin to to mend her rift with Ava. And she hoped to get her sister’s help with that. Certainly Jenna would come to see what was best for Ava. After that, Grey could finally meet her.
Frowning, she walked around to the backyard but saw no one there, either. Then, as she came to the front again, intending to send Jenna a text, the door opened. “Shadow.” The same reedy tone she’d heard earlier that morning brought Shadow up short. When she peered inside, the hallway looked so dark she could barely make out her sister’s form.