Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series)

by Jaclyn Hawkes

  “For the most part, I’ve always lived the way they taught me, and they’ve always loved me no matter what a bone-head I’ve been. Rossen and Naomi ask me from time to time if I’m ready to be baptized yet. And I never felt I was ‘til just lately. Strangely, you’ve had something to do with that somehow. Anyway, Rossen just hasn’t asked me for a little while, and I decided to wait to tell him yes until he does.”

  Isabel considered what he’d said. In some ways this was amazing, and in other ways it just made sense. After all, God would use good people like Rossen to answer prayers, wouldn’t He?

  Still thoughtful, she turned back to him. “What do you mean? I had something to do with it?”

  He answered without looking at her, “I don’t know, honestly. The last while before we met you, I’d been struggling. Things are going very well for me right now, but for some reason I’ve been, or had been, not very happy. There’s been this deep feeling of unrest for a long time now. Something was missing. My spirit was tired. I’d lost my enthusiasm for everything. I knew I had, I just didn’t know how to get it back.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not really sure how or why, but it’s back.” He looked directly at her this time. “The only thing different is you’re here, so maybe it is you, or helping you. I don’t understand it. I just know life is good for me right now. Since you’ve come, it’s like I’ve been able to settle down and focus. The unrest is gone, and some really important things have become blatantly obvious to me. Like the fact that I should have been far more serious about the gospel a long time ago. I should never have put off something so important. Rossen thinks it‘s you.”

  They were quiet while they considered this. At length she asked, “And what do you think?”

  There was just a moment before he answered, “I think it’s you.”

  They rode in easy silence for several minutes. Finally she said, “I hadn’t lost my enthusiasm. What I’d lost is peace. Or maybe I’d never even had it and was just now coming to realize it. At any rate there was none and I needed it desperately.”

  “And now?” He looked at her and their eyes met briefly before he had to look back at the road.

  Softly, she said, “I have peace. I’ve come to know it’s incredibly precious.”

  He thought about that for another minute and then said, “I noticed that you’ve put a Post-It on the photograph of the river in the trailer. That scripture from Isaiah about ‘And I will send her peace like a river.’ You’re right. Peace is incredibly precious.”

  “It is.” She was quiet for another several minutes, and then finally said, “May I ask you another question?”

  He smiled at her, “Is it as deep as the last one?”

  “Probably worse.” She met his glance.

  “Well, let me have it.”

  “Whose saddle is it?” She could tell instantly by the look on his face that she was right. It was worse.

  She’d started to wonder if he would even answer when he finally said with an infinitely sad voice, “It was my sister’s.”

  She softly asked, “Was?” She could feel the sadness clear across the truck.

  “She was killed by a drunk driver a few years ago.” He paused. “My dad was killed as well.”

  She had no idea what to say. Finally, she slid across the seat and laid her head on his shoulder. It was the closest thing she knew to giving him a hug, and she simply said, “I’m so sorry.”

  A long time later, Rossen raised his groggy head to see them sitting like that. He yawned and lay back down with a smile and Isabel knew he was wondering what he’d missed.

  Chapter 7

  As Slade walked into the hospital room the next afternoon to pick up the documents after being careful to make sure no one was watching, he was astounded to find that Dante was Black. His surprise must have shown on his face.

  The very tall, very black man in the bed swathed in bandages looked him up and down and said casually, “You must be from Carrie.”

  “And I’m assuming you’re Dante.” For a second it was like two herd bulls sizing each other up. Finally, Slade shook his head and started to chuckle. “She’s talked about you a lot. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re talented, you’re tall, you’re dark. That’s what she told me. Dark.” He laughed again. “Tall and dark. I never dreamed you were black and eight feet tall.” He was still shaking his head laughing.

  In a voice that was low and almost menacing, Dante asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”

  Slade grinned at him. “Dude, since you are about twice my size, even if I did, which I certainly don’t, I’d never admit it.”

  Dante smiled gingerly. “Good, because I’m too darned tired to argue. These nurses keep you up all night trying to make you well. Somebody ought to tell them that sleep would help.” Just then the nurse came in and began to take his vital signs. “See what I mean.”

  The nurse teased him and said to Slade, “Try to ignore the whining. In a minute when his pain pill takes effect he’ll completely forget whining and try to hug you. Watch out.” She dropped her stethoscope back around her neck. “Everything’s good!” She patted his foot as she bustled back out.

  Without wasting time, Dante asked, “How’s Carrie?”

  “Well. Frustrated that she isn’t here with you. She seems to like you quite a bit.”

  Dante smiled again and groaned. “She can be a bit feisty when she wants.”

  In a serious tone, Slade asked, “How are you? Really?”

  “Better now. I wasn’t so good a day or two ago. There were a bunch of them. These guys mean business. I hope wherever you have her they don’t find her.”

  Their eyes met and Slade said evenly, “I think she’s safe. If there’s any sign of change, we’ll do something else.” There was no doubt they were on the same team.

  Just then Eli walked into the room. He and Slade shook hands and introduced themselves. Slade had left his hat, belt and boots off and was wearing a plain white button down. Eli looked him up and down and seemed to immediately decide to trust him.

  They spoke for a few minutes both about keeping Carrie safe, and about the financial responsibility of the stallion. Slade had given it a lot of thought, and felt he should tell Eli who they were, and what they were doing. Having met the Johnsons, he knew they were as concerned about Isabel, or Carrie, as he and Rossen were. He explained and left both cell numbers and Rossen’s parents’ number in case they needed to contact them.

  Receiving a file of documents, he shook both men’s hands and left the hospital room. As he walked out of the door he was shaking his head again. “Tall and dark.” He laughed all the way down the hall.

  Back in the hospital room, Eli gave Dante a questioning look. “What was that all about?”

  Dante cracked a smile that hurt his face. “She told him I was tall and dark.”

  ****

  Back at the trailer Slade handed her the papers and shook his head again, still laughing as he went outside.

  Rossen came out to help him hook on and asked, “What’s tickled your funny bone?” Slade chuckled again.

  “You know her friend Dante, who she always talks about? The one who’s tall and dark?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s gotta be 6’7, weighs about 290, and he’s Black. Tall and dark.” Laughing again, he finished securing the trailer and they got under way. Several times driving down the road on the way to have her signature notarized and mail the papers back he chuckled to himself.

  When Isabel opened the folder they found that Eli had also sent three thousand dollars in cash with the paperwork. He must have realized she wasn't using any credit cards or bank accounts.

  ****

  The fact that Isabel hated the bulls had actually turned out to be a convenient way for Slade to earn points in the rough stock without upsetting her. He and Rossen were careful to keep her from finding out he was drawing bulls, and by not being in the first few, so far she hadn’t heard the announcer t
alk about him when he rode. Every time he rode he felt guilty for misleading her. Actually, every time he rode he felt guilty anyway. He wasn’t nineteen anymore. He used to really enjoy riding bulls. The adrenaline rush was incredible. But lately he was questioning whether the risk was even worth it. He had nothing to prove like the younger guys did. He’d already earned his place among the top cowboys in the world at the last two National Finals.

  He’d even bought a flack jacket, but had only worn it once because it felt stiff and awkward. Maybe if he used it more he'd be more comfortable in it. He resolved to try wearing it when he and Rossen were practice roping. For some reason, Isabel made him think a lot more about the future and being responsible—and not just to keep from offending her.

  ****

  Slade and Rossen had been gearing up for something they called the Cowboy’s Christmas. They’d told her it was about five weeks of as many rodeos as they could fit in, beginning in the last week of June. Their calendar was insane. There were times they were actually going to two rodeos in one day in nearby towns. This was the most important time of the year to accrue points to qualify for the NFR, which she’d learned was the championship in which only the top fifteen cowboys in the world in each event were allowed to compete. It really was a big deal. The National Finals Rodeo paid out over six million dollars in the week or so of competition, and it was at this rodeo that the year’s world champions were determined. Slade and Rossen had set a goal to qualify again this year.

  Isabel had never done this before and she had no idea what to expect. They tried to tie up all the loose ends of their non-rodeo business for the duration, and their agendas had been streamlined as much as possible. She stocked up on groceries and wanted to have the wash done and everything as ready as she could.

  Not much had ever been said since they’d discovered her real identity as far as who was working for whom, so they’d just continued the status quo as smoothly as possible. There was a jar of cash behind the sink in the trailer she sometimes used for groceries and the guys just always made sure it was full so the question of money hadn't come up much. She tried never to make a big deal of working for them because she knew the fact that she was relatively well off could become an issue. She’d been waiting for Slade to fuss about it and he finally did one morning when she went to leave the trailer with their dirty jeans again.

  She carried them to the truck and he followed her and brought them back in. Rossen suddenly needed to check the horses, so she knew he’d been expecting this confrontation too.

  She didn’t want to argue with Slade but she wasn’t going to let him win either, so she waited a minute until he was busy elsewhere, then headed for the truck with the laundry again.

  He caught her at the cab and said, “Isabel, stop being juvenile. You aren’t going to do our laundry. It’s bad enough that we let you do everything else. Rossen and I will do it later. Just stop. This is silly.” He picked up the bag, and headed back to the trailer. Isabel let him haul it inside only because she didn’t want anyone else around to see them argue.

  Inside she crowded him back against the wall. “Slade Marsh.” She wished she knew his middle name, she’d have thrown that in for good measure. “Why are you doing this? What in the world is wrong with me simply doing the laundry? Do you think I don’t do wash at home?” She folded her arms across her chest and prepared to stare him down. “What is any different with me now than before?”

  Slade sounded frustrated. “We didn’t know you had a net worth more valuable than both of us put together, times five. That’s what. We thought we were hiring a college student, remember?”

  She laughed. “I am a college student! Remember?” She took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight. First off, you’re saying you should treat people differently based on how much money they have?” She smiled triumphantly. “That is definitely not what Jesus taught.”

  Actually, he smiled too. “That was good. But it’s not going to work. Put the laundry down and stop. This is ridiculous.”

  “Slade, it’s a load of jeans for heavens sake. Have you and I even once, since we’ve known each other, made a big deal of status? Until this particular moment I mean?”

  She wasn’t going to back down. “Slade, listen to me. You act like I am doing this great magnanimous service, when if you and I would just get really honest, we’d admit that I’m way more liability than I’m worth. We both know you two are basically acting as bodyguards or something while you’re letting me enjoy this great adventure on the rodeo circuit. I told you I don’t believe in coincidence. I know I was blessed to have the two of you need truck repairs next to Anna’s diner at exactly the right time. Let’s do be honest with each other, and actually come right out and say that if they find me, you and Rossen could be in the middle of an ugly, dangerous mess. How much is that worth to me, Slade Marsh?”

  He opened his mouth to say something, and she put up a hand. “Look, how about if we look at it this way.”

  She took a step nearer. “How about if we say you’ll throw me a bone, and let me feel like you really do need me, so I can rationalize that I should stay here, in spite of the fact I could be putting the two of you in possible danger.”

  Her voice took on a pleading tone. “‘Cause I’m really enjoying myself, and I don’t want to go. Could that work?” Not only had she backed him up to the wall, but as she was talking she'd moved closer and closer until she was only inches from him. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at her nervously and she hoped her perfume would cloud his judgment. It must have worked, because he looked at her for a minute in silence and gave in.

  She laughed before he even said okay, and threw her arms around his waist in a hug and said, “Thanks, Slade. You’re the best. Now give me the jeans.” Hoisting the bag over her shoulder, she practically skipped out of the trailer, leaving Slade standing against the trailer wall with a slightly shaken look on his face.

  The Cowboy’s Christmas was every bit as busy as they’d warned her it would be. After about a week, both humans and horses had begun to wear down and only the added excitement counteracted that. Isabel drove more than she ever had, and she definitely felt they needed her.

  One evening as they pulled in, unloaded and immediately saddled the horses, Slade turned to her and asked, “Is, would you mind watching our horses for us? Rossen and I need to see the secretary first.” She nodded as they hurried off. They were gone a long time and as rodeo time drew near she knew their horses were going to be stiff if they didn’t get warmed up. Wondering what to do, she finally climbed on Slade’s horse, tucked her boots between the leathers of his stirrups, grabbed Rossen’s horse by the reins and began to pony him around the arena as she warmed them up with the rest of the cowboys and cowgirls who would be competing that evening.

  As she loped the horses in slow circles, she felt like she was getting an unusual amount of attention. When the cowboys she’d been introduced to saw her, she saw surprise in their faces. She’d almost decided there must be a rule against someone who wasn’t actually competing, being in the arena or something. It couldn’t be helped. The horses needed to be warmed up.

  Finally, as the riders left the arena and the announcer started up, she saw Slade and Rossen approaching. She rode toward them, slid to the ground and handed over their reins. Even Rossen seemed surprised that she was riding, but there was no time to talk. She went to unload the other horses and get their rope horses warmed up, and they went to the far end of the arena where they’d soon be bulldoggin’. She didn’t think another thing about it until she was on her way back to the trailer after the barrel racers had finished and the bulls were about to start.

  As she was skirting the concession stand, she heard Jesse’s unmistakable voice. “They say she just works for them, but I don’t believe it after seeing her on Slade’s horse. He never lets anyone but Rossen even touch that horse, let alone ride it. And did you see him when she handed him over? He acted like it was nothing. Just no
thing at all. I’ve thought there must be something going on. Since she’s been around he hasn’t come out dancing or anything even once . . .”

  Isabel walked on out of earshot, although she’d been tempted to stay and listen. That must have been what all the surprised looks were about. That seemed funny because it hadn’t seemed like a big deal to her or Slade. And had he changed his lifestyle when she came? It was something to think about.

  ****

  One night in Texas, as she was walking back to the trailer by herself in the dark during the bull riding, she saw Leland Wilde standing near another trailer up ahead. Wishing Slade or Rossen had come to see her back, she hesitated to walk past him alone. It had been several rodeos since they had last walked her to the trailer during the bulls and she missed their reassuring presence.

  Feeling a little sheepish for her lack of courage, she returned to near the arena and stayed where there were more people. She was standing there watching spectators come and go, when she heard Slade’s name from the announcer.

  No! Surely she was mistaken, but no, there it was again. The announcer was telling the crowd some stats on Slade’s rodeo career while they waited for him to get ready in the chute. She flew up the ramp to the stands above her and was horrified to see Rossen helping Slade settle into a chute that held a huge, dark brown bull. She was close to that end of the arena and she could see it all perfectly.

  Finally set, Slade leaned back, placed his free hand on the gate and nodded his head. The gate flew open to release the bull. The blood seemed to drain from her head and she couldn’t catch her breath as the bull lunged out of the opening and spun violently to the left in a powerful rush. Even with her heart in her throat, she knew she was watching a master rider. His body seemed to sense what the bull would do next and adjusted for it with each raging plunge. The writhing animal was a thing possessed and it lunged and spun every which way to displace the rider stuck to its back. Slade rode with a rhythm and balance that were almost fascinating, as he and the beast careened across the arena in some kind of convoluted ballet.