by Mindy Neff
And he didn’t see it.
She wanted to scream, but no words would come out. Adrenaline pumping, her mind went numb as instinct and fierce love took over, lent her strength, courage. She didn’t remember grabbing the hoe, didn’t remember shoving Wyatt to the side.
The scream trapped in her throat became a moan as she viciously hacked and hacked and hacked. For how long, she didn’t know.
Wyatt grabbed the hoe on an upward swing.
Hannah went still. The blisters on her hands wept against the handle of the hoe.
The snake was a bloody mess at her feet.
Her vision still hazed, she turned and buried her face in Wyatt’s neck, held him close and tight with arms that felt like rubber.
Horrible scenarios flipped through her mind. Waking nightmares her mother used to call them.
Over and over, she could see the snake striking, fangs sinking in, Wyatt’s leg swelling, the distance between here and town too far. His life draining away from him.
She must have whimpered.
“Shh,” he soothed, rubbing her back. “It’s over.”
She got a hold of herself. Control came back by slow degrees. And with it came pride, fanning out like the gloriously preening tail feathers on the peacock that strutted through the barn.
She drew back, took a breath, looked into Wyatt’s concerned eyes. “I killed that snake.”
“Yeah.” His voice wasn’t all that steady. “Killed it dead.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “Made a heck of a mess is what I did. And that’s a mess I’m not cleaning up.”
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up, pressing his lips to hers in one of those soul-stirring kisses that she could spend all day tasting. “I’ll take care of it,” he said softly. “And thank you.”
Emotions she couldn’t define swam in his eyes. He still kept so much locked away.
“You’re welcome.”
“Want to keep the skin? Make a pair of boots?”
A shudder skipped up her spine. “No thank you. I don’t want anything that has to do with snakes anywhere close to me and the ones I love.”
He went very still. She’d included him as one she loved. Oh, she hadn’t spelled it out, but she didn’t have to. It was so obvious. She’d been careful not to say it aloud, not to put pressure, although every time they made love the words were like an ache in her throat.
With the aftermath of pumped-up courage over killing the snake, she wasn’t going to take back her words. They were her feelings. She owned them. He could do with them what he wanted.
She put her hand against the side of his firm jaw, raised up and lightly kissed his lips. Then left him standing looking after her as she went to count the chickens.
As long as she was here, she wanted to make sure any fowl they ate came from the market, not from her henhouse.
THE HOUSE GLEAMED, the animals were fed and a casserole was assembled and in the fridge ready to go in the oven. The extra casserole was in a covered dish.
“Come on, Ian. Let’s go to town. And no, you can’t take the dogs.” Lady and Ian both whined. Thank goodness Chinook was with Wyatt today, or he’d have probably complained, too.
Honestly, kid and animals were ganging up on her. And darned if she didn’t love it.
She loaded her truck and paused when she saw Wyatt mounted on Tornado, riding out of the corral.
As always, there seemed to be a radar between them. He turned, saw her and doubled back.
He looked so tall and sexy sitting atop the horse. The saddle creaked as he leaned an elbow on the horn, a rope loosely held in his gloved hands.
“I’m going into town to help Iris out at the saloon for a while.”
“You’ve handled a pretty full load already this morning. You’re not overdoing things, are you?”
“No. I’m fine. Truly,” she said when he just frowned at her. “Besides, we’re meeting to organize a fund-raiser for the fire department.”
His lips twitched. “Want my wallet now or later?”
She laughed. “Later will be fine.” She started to get in the car.
“Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Plan good. I happen to be part of that volunteer fire department.”
As he would be, she thought. He was firmly entrenched in this community, had a stake in every aspect of it, from the land to the people.
That was one of the things she loved about him.
She reversed out of the dirt drive and followed the dusty trail to the road. The air through the open window smelled of grass, sunshine and cattle. It made her heart speed up a little faster.
When she passed the two white crosses on the side of the road that marked where Becky and Timmy had died, her heart pumped even harder. But in sadness this time.
“I want to take care of him for you,” she whispered.
THE DIAGONAL SPACES in front of Brewer’s Saloon were unusually full for this time of day and Hannah was glad she’d come. Iris and Lloyd would need the extra help.
She gathered up her dish and Ian and went inside, the smell of onions and charbroiled burgers vying with the faint smell of cigar smoke and beer.
Once again her gaze was drawn to the sign over the bar proclaiming it a family establishment. In her old life, she’d never have thought to go into a bar alone, or even a restaurant for that matter.
And she wouldn’t have been greeted with hugs, waves and friendly calls. Everyone knew her name here and genuinely cared about her.
They also knew Wyatt and his land and they knew more about his business than he probably did. If one of them got sick, a neighbor would be able to walk right in the ranch house and take over the kitchen, see to the livestock, pitch in without having to ask a single question.
And they wouldn’t ask for a single thing in return, either.
“Here, hon, let me take that dish,” Iris said, giving both Ian and Hannah a quick kiss. “It’ll be a while before we can do any planning for the fund-raiser. Lord, just when I think the crowd in here’s gonna thin out, another wave comes in. Ozzie and his cronies—my husband included—have gone a bit overboard.”
“They didn’t expect quite such a stampede of women?”
“No. And it’s wearing me out.”
“Well, you’ve got another pair of willing hands. I’ll take those tables.” She pointed to the left. “You catch whatever Maedean’s not getting.”
“Bless you. I didn’t mean for you to come in and work.”
“I’m delighted to do it.”
“Don’t lift anything too heavy, now. The cord’ll wrap around the baby’s neck.”
Hannah gave her a look. “That’s an old wives tale and you know it.”
With Ian happily pressed into service passing out menus and chattering with the customers, Hannah worked alongside Iris and Maedean. She’d never waitressed before and gained a new appreciation for the servers. The blisters on her palms stung as she gripped trays and icy glasses of water, tea and soda.
The customers were accommodating and helped out by bussing tables on their way out or going to the kitchen to retrieve their own meals.
The lunch hour ended up more like a community meal rather than a restaurant service. Someone played a lively tune on the jukebox and several folks did an impromptu sing-along with Aretha Franklin as she lamented about respect.
It was festive, exhausting and wonderful.
Collapsing at the bar an hour later, Hannah watched Iris make her way in that direction.
“Well,” Iris said. “I’ll have to put you on the payroll.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ve had a ball.”
“Oh, darlin’ you are an angel sent right from above.”
Hannah linked hands with Iris. “I think it’s you all who are my angels. I feel…I don’t know if I can put it into words. I love it here. It’s exactly where I want to be, what I want….” Her words trailed off.
Iris squeezed her fingers. “Are wedding vows scheduled for any time soon?�
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Hannah’s heart sank. She shook her head.
“Oh, hon, you haven’t given up hope, have you?”
“No.” She felt odd discussing the subject with Iris, Becky’s mother, but knew that the woman was someone she could trust. “Did you know Wyatt feels responsible for the accident?”
Iris sucked in a breath. Her eyes turned sad. “That’s plain ridiculous. No one blames Wyatt.”
“Oh, I think he knows that. But he blames himself.”
Releasing Hannah’s hands, Iris shot her husband a look that clearly told him to find something to do farther down the bar.
Looking annoyed, he took his polishing rag and glasses and retreated, giving them privacy.
“My Becky was restless. It had been growing for a while, even when she was a girl. Then Wyatt courted her and in the new blush of love, she had something and someone to beat back the yearning. She convinced herself he could fill her up. By the time the restless spirits started creeping back, she was pregnant with Timmy. She had a new purpose, something to keep her mind off the specter that kept rising inside her.” Iris sat back on the bar stool, smoothed her apron.
“After Timmy was born, the responsibility of the baby occupied her time. And Wyatt doted on them—Timmy was his heart. But once again it wasn’t enough for Becky. It was as though she were always running one step ahead of depression. I didn’t know how to help her.”
“Oh, Iris.” There was so little Hannah could say.
“I know.” With a gentle smile, Iris silently thanked Hannah for the compassion. “Right before Becky left that last time, she told me she didn’t want Timmy to grow up to be a rancher, no matter what the size of his inheritance. She wanted him to be a lawyer or computer tycoon or something. And she wanted someone like that for herself.”
Hannah shook her head sadly. “I was married to a lawyer. He was just as tied to his job as a dedicated rancher is to his land. But Allan didn’t have the moral code or depth that Wyatt has. Allan didn’t have time for us—so I know plenty about loneliness. He didn’t pay attention to Ian or me. Sometimes I wonder if Ian would even recognize his father if he were to pass him on the street.”
“That’s awful.”
“I’ve had life that offers ‘more’—the parties and culture and plastic, shallow people. I don’t mean to sound ugly, but that’s the type of crowd Allan hung out with. I know it’s what I don’t want.”
“You’re stronger inside than Becky.”
“Oh, no.”
“I’m not comparing. I loved my daughter. She had wonderful qualities, and I’ll miss her horribly for the rest of my life. But you, Hannah, are indeed a strong woman. You’re dedicated to your children, to people. It radiates from you.”
“Wyatt doesn’t seem to think I’ll stick.”
“Wyatt’s not looking past his nose.”
Hannah smiled gently. “My husband didn’t love me.”
“Oh, honey.”
“It’s true. I’ve accepted it. I’ve grown, though, and I know who I am now. I know I need to be loved.”
“I understand that. Wyatt has the capacity to love deeply.”
“But does he have the desire? If he can’t, I can’t stay.”
“Oh, I don’t even want to think about losing you. You won’t leave, will you?”
“I’d planned to go to my sister’s in Billings if Wyatt and I didn’t suit. But plans have changed. Tori’s living in Alaska now. I haven’t told Wyatt yet. He still thinks I have someplace to go.”
“You can come to us,” Iris said resolutely. “Lloyd and I have room. In fact, that might not be a bad idea now that I think about it. Wyatt was supposed to offer you marriage—”
“He didn’t know that.”
“That’s beside the point. Perhaps he needs a push. You and Ian are welcome in our home any time, for as long as you want. If you want to put a little distance between the two of you, you come to us.”
“I appreciate the offer. And I’ll give it some thought.”
Vera Tillis joined them at the bar, armed with a list of ideas for the firemen’s fund-raiser. Together the women organized and planned right down to the last potato sack race and scheduled the to-do for a week from Sunday.
Hannah hoped she’d still be here.
As Hannah said her goodbyes and strapped Ian in the truck, she thought about Iris’s offer. She’d been here nearly a month. Was she kidding herself when she thought she saw more in Wyatt’s eyes? Was she placing more importance in his touch? Reading more into the reverent way he sketched her skin with his fingertips, held her so tenderly, kissed her pregnant tummy as though it were his baby growing in her womb?
She wanted to believe all those little things would add up to a whole. Would add up to love.
But he hadn’t given her the words.
And because she wanted so badly to hear those words, was she perhaps assuming too much? Assigning feelings to him that weren’t actually there?
The eternal optimist in her said that wasn’t the case. Even Iris—who knew Wyatt well—believed he had deep feelings for her. She’d give it a few more days. Because leaving him would break her heart.
She passed a sign proclaiming this cattle country and advising folks to eat beef. She decided she ought to remind Wyatt of that lest he start culling her sweet chickens.
Humming along with the radio, the sweet smell of grass and alfalfa wafting through the open window, she glanced over at Ian. His eyes were getting heavy and he’d be asleep before long.
She looked back at the road and her heart slammed right into her throat, her arms going numb.
A huge antlered animal stood in the middle of the road.
She stomped on the brakes, automatically shot out a hand to brace Ian even though he was belted in.
Tires screamed horribly against blacktop. The truck shuddered as if it were flying apart. Her mouth opened on a scream that never materialized.
An eternity passed in slow motion as the truck kept sliding and sliding and sliding.
Please, oh please, oh please. Stop!
The animal’s startled eyes were practically looking through the windshield as she slammed her own eyes shut and braced for impact.
Chapter Fourteen
Wyatt flew over his land, pride filling him as he surveyed all that was his.
“Look at those girls,” he murmured. “Not too fat, just healthy and happy.” Two heifers stood away from the herd, watching over the calves. Baby-sitting, he mused. They would wait for relief before taking their turn to graze. People didn’t realize what great animals cows were.
And thinking of great cattle reminded him of the talk he’d tried to have with Cherry again this morning. For the life of him, he didn’t understand her hesitation or her attitude over selling him Casanova. She needed the funds and he needed the bull.
Instead of having a rational business discussion, she’d mouthed some crazy thing about him being wrapped up in his personal life and couldn’t see what was plain as day and right in his backyard. She was talking in circles, and frustrated, he’d excused himself.
Females.
The crackling of the radio sent a tingle up his spine. A ghost walking over your grave, his mother had always said.
“Anybody! Wyatt! Doc!” Trevor’s frantic, tinny voice blasting through the speakers sent Wyatt’s heart ramming against his chest.
“Oh, man oh, man, it’s Hannah’s truck.” A pause. Calmer now, but not by much. “It’s in the ditch.”
Wyatt had been looking out over the land. Now his gaze jerked to the highway as he cranked hard on the yoke, the little plane banking sharply, allowing him to survey the road that ran from the ranch into town.
His jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. He had to be calm.
Deéjà vu swept over him—he tried to beat it back. He wanted to shake his fist, shout and curse.
His hands were absolutely steady, his eyes stinging behind the lenses of his dark glasses.
He sa
w Trevor’s horse running hard.
At the same time, he saw Hannah’s green truck tipped on its side in the ditch, the driver’s side tires still spinning.
An elk lay dead in the road.
Nausea swamped him. He gripped the mike, cleared his throat, and swept a quick visual over the highway.
“Wyatt here, Trevor. I’m over you. I’m landing. Give me room. And for God’s sake, don’t touch her.”
If she’s even alive.
“Cheyenne here, Wyatt,” Sheriff Bodine said. “I’m five minutes from the turnoff to your place. I haven’t passed her.”
“You will in a minute.” Even as he concentrated on the plane’s gauges and his air speed, going through the rote motions of landing, he could hear the wail of Cheyenne’s sirens through the radio as the sheriff screamed up the highway in his cruiser, advising dispatch of his location, pedal no doubt mashed to the floorboard, never letting up.
The wheels of the plane touched and skidded against asphalt. Wyatt didn’t realize he was praying. He barely heard the chatter on the radio as cowboys and neighbors burned up the wires giving their coordinates, judging if they were close enough to help or if their efforts would be best used in another way.
“This is Chance, Cheyenne.” The doctor. Thank God, Wyatt thought. Most everyone around monitored their neighbor’s radio frequency via scanners—including the sheriff and the doctor. “I’ve been out on a house call at the Turmans’. I’m just now intersecting with the highway from their service road which’ll put me a few minutes behind you.”
“Okay, Doc. We’ll wait for you,” Cheyenne responded. “Hear that, Wyatt? Take your own advice and don’t move them.”
Wyatt didn’t hear the rest of the admonishment. He was already unstrapping himself and leaping from the plane, running, heart pumping, mind numb, refusing to think.
The air bag would have deployed, exploding in Hannah’s face…against the baby. And Ian…
“She’s okay, boss. They all are,” Trevor said.
He didn’t believe his friend. His mind wasn’t even calculating what he was seeing.
For an instant everything turned inward. Blood, trickling down lifeless waxen skin. A tiny baby boy slumped in a car seat.