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Home for Good Page 11

by Jessica Keller


  A truck roared across the field. Rider’s head appeared over the gully wall. “Mr. Freed?”

  “Rider. We need help.”

  “Me and Miss Ali brought some rope. I’m going to tie it to one of these trees and toss it down.”

  A cable snaked over the edge of the cliff face, and Ali dropped another bunch of rope down the ledge. Jericho caught it and gingerly worked his way over to where Chance stooped.

  He constructed a makeshift climber’s harness around Chance then, binding it with more knots than necessary, he attached it to the dangling rope. “I know your arm hurts, but I need you to be really strong, okay? I need you to hold on tight, even if it hurts and you want to let go.” He tugged the rope, certain it would hold. “Rider, go on and hoist him up.”

  He patted Chance’s head. “You’re secure, but I still want you to hang on to this rope like it’s that bull you always wanted to ride.”

  Chance bit his lip and nodded.

  Jericho smiled and lifted his chin. “Win the buckle, kid.”

  * * *

  Swirling her cup of lukewarm coffee, Ali leaned back against the cool hospital wall.

  Jericho layed down the magazine he’d been reading. “What’s the verdict?”

  She sighed. It had been a long day. First with Denny, then an emotional conversation with Jericho, then Chance—her heart seized. She should have been there. “He broke his wrist. They’re casting it right now. He picked the camo plaster because he wanted to match you, Mr. Army.”

  “Thank God that’s all it was.”

  Sliding into the waiting room chair, she set down her coffee. “Do you need a doctor, Jericho? Were you injured climbing? I saw you limping afterward.”

  “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”

  She sipped her coffee. “Me? I’m not the one who free-climbed into the gully.”

  “What did you mean earlier, when you said someone’s threatening you?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Ali.” He grabbed her hand. “Remember, I promised to protect you. If someone has done something that makes you think Chance could have been in danger of being kidnapped, then I need to know.”

  How much to tell him? The truth. She swallowed hard. “Things have been happening around the ranch lately that make me think someone is trying to harm me.”

  His eyebrows knit together. “What sort of things?”

  “Money is missing from the Big Sky Dreams account, and someone has been tampering with our fences and letting out the cattle. We lost three heifers in the ravine so far. You knew that someone slashed my tires. The horses were set loose twice now. And I found a note.”

  “A note?”

  “Yeah, someone left a creepy note tacked to my door saying that if I valued what was important to me, I’d stay away from you.” She twisted the lid on the coffee cup.

  “From me? It named me specifically?”

  She nodded. “It said something about seeing us together at the Independence Day Picnic. That I’d been warned.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the top of her clenched knuckles. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Because it’s not your problem.” Ali jerked her hand from his and crossed her arms.

  “If I’m named as the reason these things are happening to you, then I’m already involved.”

  “If I had told you, would you have stayed away?”

  “Absolutely not. I’d have been around more, like I’ll be now. We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ll figure out who’s behind it and—”

  “Hey, Mom. Hey, Jericho.” Chance crossed the room with a nurse at his side. “Look how cool this is. I could hide in the woods, and no one would see me. Will you both sign my arm?”

  Jericho’s laugh failed to calm Ali. The tight lines around his eyes were still present, and she knew they meant trouble for her. He wasn’t about to drop their conversation about the note. If she heard him right, he was about to say he’d take care of whoever wanted to cause them harm. But that didn’t sit well with her, because she didn’t want Jericho in danger either.

  * * *

  How the fool man convinced her to come out to the street dance, Ali had no idea. She shook her head as she walked beside Jericho. The rowdy twang of country music filled the air. Laughter and the clips of boots against Main Street bounced off the buildings lining downtown.

  Chance cupped his cast and looked at Jericho with round eyes. “Can I ride on your back?”

  “Sure thing, partner.” He bent down so her son could scramble up. He grunted. “Watch the kidneys, kid.”

  Chance scooped off Jericho’s hat, giving it a new home swimming over his small head. She smiled at the way Jericho’s hair stuck up in all directions, but the rough-and-tumble look only increased his appeal. The man looked too tempting for his own good—clean-shaven, in his pressed denim shirt and muscle-hugging jeans.

  The sun would dip behind the Bitterroot Mountains in the next hour, but warmth remained for the black tank top and gauzy skirt she’d donned. Ali always liked the way boots looked with a knee-length skirt, especially while twirling during a country dance.

  As if reading her mind, Jericho glanced over. “I’m glad they’ve kept this a family thing. Real friendly, with all the old-timers and kids involved.”

  She smoothed down her hair and moved toward the sidewalk, away from the crowd already line dancing. “They’ve stayed pretty true to the innocent olden days.”

  “Hey, look.” Jericho jutted out his chin. “There are Kate and Rider dancing together. When he’s not working, that guy sure follows her around like a homeless hound dog. Is something going on between them?”

  “I sure hope not.” Making sure Chance wasn’t paying attention, Ali leaned close and whispered, “We think Rider might be our saboteur.”

  Jericho laughed. “Rider Longley? Absolutely not. He loves your family.”

  “I’ve heard differently.”

  He shot her a look that said they’d talk about it later.

  Up front near where the deejay and square-dance callers stood, children of all ages moved to the beat. While most knew the steps, one freckle-faced boy spun in helter-skelter circles, ricocheting off other dancers.

  Chance tapped Jericho on the head. “Will you take me up there?”

  “Sure thing, pal.”

  “Will you stay and dance with me?”

  Jericho yanked on his collar and widened his eyes at Ali. He mouthed, Save me.

  She laughed. The cowboy had never been much for dancing, but he could use a little torture all the same. “I think that’s a great idea, Chance. You and Jericho go on up there, and I’m going to find me some huckleberry lemonade.”

  “You owe me!” Jericho called over his shoulder with a full-chested laugh.

  She liked that about him—when he laughed, he did it completely, none of that chuckling stuff. Pulling out of the crowd, she took in the sight of all her friends and neighbors enjoying the evening. A teen with long black hair slow-danced with arms fully extended, swaying side to side. A father with dimples danced with his daughter perched on his toes.

  Ali’s eyes lingered on an elderly couple, gnarled hands entwined over their hearts as they barely shuffled to the music together. At the song’s crescendo, the elderly man leaned forward and kissed his little white-puff-haired wife right on her firecracker-red lips.

  Ali’s eyes welled up at the sight. A lump the size of Montana formed in her throat, as if all her bitterness and regrets had risen and now she wanted them gone. She wanted freedom from the weeds growing like manacles, restraining her heart from hope and forgiveness. She wanted love like that.

  Sliding her gaze, she bit down a laugh. Good to his word, Jericho stood up front surrounded by a crowd of kids, atte
mpting to dance and making a complete and adorable fool of himself. As if embarrassed, Chance kept stopping him, and then he’d demonstrate a move and make a hand motion inviting Jericho to try. Jericho looked more like he was trying to shake a prairie dog off his back than any dancing Ali had ever seen.

  “Care to dance?” Tripp touched the small of her back.

  “Tripp. You startled me.” She spilled a bit of her lemonade onto the straw bales lining the street. She surveyed the tanned lawyer. “I didn’t know you owned boots.”

  He shrugged. “The event seemed to call for them. Got your attention turned elsewhere, I see.” He jutted his chin in Jericho’s direction.

  “Yeah, Chance broke his arm a couple days ago so I want to keep a close eye on him.”

  “Are you okay? I heard about Denny.”

  Tears stung Ali’s eyes. She shook her head.

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk, but I want you to know I’m here if you need anything. I’ll do anything for you, Alison. You know that, right?” He flashed a made-for-Hollywood smile.

  “You’ve been such a good friend to me these last few years. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “I haven’t seen you out there yet.” He took the cup from her hand and set it down on the steps leading to the bakery door. “Mind if I’m the first tonight?” He offered his hand.

  Ali shrugged. “I guess that would be fine.” With the rest of her family occupied, a dance with a friend sounded harmless. Although, Tripp didn’t just want to be her friend, did he? Ali swallowed hard, regretting accepting his hand already.

  * * *

  Jericho froze and watched that man pull his wife out onto the street. Tripp put one of his hands on Ali’s slender waist. Then he entwined his fingers with hers. Tripp looked up, meeting Jericho’s stare. He gave Jericho a crooked smile, then turned his face into Ali’s hair.

  “Jericho.” Chance tapped his arm. “I think you’re too old for this because your face is all red, and the vein on your neck looks like it’s going to pop out. You should sit.”

  Scooping his hat off the kid’s head, Jericho took a few deep breaths to calm himself enough for rational thought. “You’re right, Chance. I need to slow down a bit, but I’m not sitting this one out. Not on my life.” He stalked through the crowd, bumping into a couple and making them miss their dance steps. “Sorry,” he muttered. Nothing would deter his course. Not when it concerned Ali. He’d fight for her until she told him flat-out to stop.

  Zeroing in on the pair, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

  Tripp scoffed. “Actually, we do.”

  “I asked the lady.”

  Both men looked at Ali. She bit her lip. “It’s okay, Tripp. Thanks for the dance.”

  Jericho puffed out his chest, heart swelling. He took Ali’s hands and pulled her against him.

  The corners of her mouth twitched as if she fought a smile. “You shouldn’t have done that. An angry Tripp isn’t worth one dance.”

  “Don’t like seeing another man with his mugs on my wife.” Holding her this close, he whispered against her ear. The silky strands of her hair tickled his mouth. He shut his eyes.

  She trembled against him.

  He pressed her closer. “Shhh. It’s okay, Ali. Please be with me like this.”

  “Jericho...I’m not... You can’t...”

  The pain in his knee made their dance more like a shuffle-stop-walk, but he didn’t care. “I want it to be just you and me, Ali. I’ve always wanted that.”

  She pushed back a little, but still in his arms. “It’s not just me anymore. I have Chance. We’re a package deal.”

  He stopped dancing and tipped her chin to hold her gaze as he spoke. “I want you both.”

  “But what if—”

  He put a hand on either side of her neck, cradling the back of her head with his fingers. “I don’t care who his father is, Ali. He’s your son. But if you let me, I’d love him like he was mine.”

  “Even if...?”

  “In fact, I might already.”

  Her eyes searched his. “You do?”

  “Of course I do.” He smiled, waiting for her to open up and confirm that Chance was his son. Instead, she nodded once and laid her head back on his shoulder.

  Jericho sighed. Maybe in time she’d trust him enough to tell him the truth.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I hardly think it’s necessary for you to stay here.” Ali jammed her hands to her hips and tapped her foot against the floor.

  Kate wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know, Al. I think it’s wise to have a man here until stuff blows over.”

  Ali shot her sister a glare. Traitor.

  “It won’t work. We don’t have any extra beds so—”

  Jericho shook his head. “While in the army, I learned to sleep anywhere. I slept leaning against a tank wheel in the middle of mortar fire once. I could curl up on the kitchen tile in there and be just fine.”

  Chance slurped on the last of his firecracker Popsicle. Blue and red colors painted his face. “That’s gross. You could sleep in my room, but my bed is small. Mom said I’ll get a bigger one soon, though.” He looked up at Ali with hopeful eyes, as if she’d spring for a new bed after his benevolent offer to Jericho.

  “Appreciate that, but this couch in here will work just fine.”

  “Yeah, I don’t need you in my room ’cause I’m strong. I’m a guy.” Chance chewed on the Popsicle stick, thinking hard. “You should sleep in Mom’s room with her. She’s got a big bed.”

  Kate ducked, hiding a chuckle behind her hand.

  Heat crept up Ali’s neck, but seeing the full-out fire on Jericho’s cheeks made her feel better. “Enough, Chance. Get upstairs, wash your face and throw on your jammies.” She pointed toward the stairs.

  The boy set down the stick on the coffee table. When he faced Jericho, he shrugged. “I’m just saying. I’m brave, but she’s a girl, and girls get scared easy. And she has the biggest bed. It makes sense.”

  “Put it like that, and it sure does make sense. But between you and me, I think it’s safer for everyone if I’m down here on the couch.” He shot Ali a look.

  “To bed, Chance.”

  He harrumphed but obeyed, albeit with loud, drawn-out steps on the stairs.

  Ali chuckled. “I’ll be up in ten minutes to read the first chapter of that book with you. Be ready when I come.”

  Jericho set down his cup of milk and stretched. “You know what? I’m going to go up there and search all the rooms.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Ali inched toward the stairs to block his progress.

  He took her shoulders and gently moved her aside. “Listen. When we were looking for Chance, you really believed that someone might have taken him. If you’re that afraid of whatever is going on, then yes, I’m going to take it seriously. And I’m going to go up and check all the rooms so I know for sure that nothing’s lurking that shouldn’t be.”

  Lurking? She hadn’t thought of that. Now she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. She stepped back. “When you put it like that...”

  He disappeared up the stairs.

  “You okay with all this?” Kate dropped down on the couch, sprawling her feet on the coffee table.

  Ali sunk into the side chair. “Not like you offered much help.”

  “Oh, c’mon. You know that having him here is probably the best thing right now. Who’s going to try to mess with the ranch when they find out he’s standing guard?”

  “I just... It’s not proper.”

  “Proper? He’s your husband. What could be more proper?”

  Ali leaned her head on the overstuffed armrest. “I haven’t slept under the same roof with that man in more than eight years. It�
�s unnerving. I was just getting used to him being back in my life. But not like this, not all the time and not in our house.”

  A devilish smile pulled at Kate’s lips as a mocking gleam lit her eyes. “Well, if Chance had his way, your husband would be...in your bed.”

  Ali burst out laughing. “What am I going to do with that child? He’s set on pairing us up. I was mortified.”

  Kate crossed her arms over her stomach and closed her eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Besides this stuff, I’m pretty stressed out for the ‘Dream A Little Dream’ event I have for Big Sky Dreams. I mean, if we don’t get the money, I don’t know what we’re going to do. And this is the first event we’re having here on our property.” Her sister nodded off, so Ali stopped talking.

  Finishing the last of her water, Ali looked up at the ceiling, listening for footsteps. Silence. Ali crossed her legs, jiggling her foot. How long did it take to peek into a couple of rooms? Losing the battle with her curiosity, she tiptoed past Kate and crept upstairs. A small sliver of light trickled from under Chance’s bedroom door, but not enough to illuminate the hallway. Shadows painted the second floor. Ali peered into her bedroom. Negative. Then she turned the corner at the end of the hall and gasped.

  Oh no! Jericho Freed stood in that room. An unwritten rule in the house was that the door to that room, the small room at the back of the house, stayed shut at all times. Her heart pounded so loud, it reverberated in her ears. He shouldn’t be in there.

  She stayed in the hall, grabbing the cool door handle for support. She was thankful, at least, that Jericho’s back was to her. Ali cleared her throat, nice and loud. “Are you done checking the rooms?”

  When he whirled around, Ali noticed that it looked like he was trying very hard to keep his composure. “All my stuff. You kept everything,” he whispered.

  She gave what she hoped came off as an indifferent shrug. “It was that or toss the junk.”

  Jericho rubbed his jaw, then reached out and trailed his fingers over a box full of his old paperback Westerns. “But you kept it. For eight years. Why?”

  Giving a little growl, Ali stalked to the stairs. “I don’t know, Jericho. Just leave me be about it. And get out. That door is supposed to stay closed.”

 

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