Lone Tree

by O'Keefe, Bobbie

  “Glad you called,” Jackie said. “Been thinking about you out there with all those men. After a while, I bet it gets old.”

  “Oh, yeah. In fact, I was wondering if I could treat you to lunch sometime. Er, dinner, I mean, unless supper would be better...it’s more informal.” She laughed at herself. “Sorry. Guess I’m still mixed up with—”

  “Do you know how to make potato salad?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Then bring a bowl of it to my house tomorrow night—I’ll give you directions—and I’ll fry up hamburgers to go with it. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great.”

  *

  Jackie lived in a small house on a side street within walking distance of her shop. She opened the door and motioned for her guest to come in. “Don’t stand there on ceremony, girl. I’m hungry.”

  Lainie sliced a tomato and onion at the counter in the bright-white kitchen with light-green trim while her hostess fried hamburgers. “Lot of folks say they’re better on a grill,” Jackie said. “But I don’t have a grill. And even if I had one, I don’t know how to cook inside and outside at the same time. You know how to play dominoes?”

  “Yes.” Lainie squinted at her. “It’s hard keeping up with you. Does your conversation always jump all over the place?”

  Jackie carried the plate of hamburgers to the small round table in front of the window. “Here’s another jump. Either one of those two eligible bachelors out there appeal to you?”

  “I thought they were all bachelors except Glen Charles. No, wait a minute. Carter’s married. He said something about his wife the other day. And Randy is spoken for. And—”

  “Miles is too old. Nelly’s even older. Andy just started shaving a couple months back. Luke is divorced and soured on women. That leaves Mack and Reed. You got anybody back home?”

  “No. I did, until about six months ago. Name was Jason. We were engaged, but...the relationship lacked depth. The relationship and the man.” She took a bite of the hamburger sandwich, then said around it, “How about you?”

  “Same here. There was someone once. It wasn’t good.”

  “So,” Lainie said, returning the question to the questioner, “either one of those bachelors appeal to you?” If Jackie had designs on Reed, Lainie figured she better find out now, and was even hoping that was the case because it’d make it easier to resist him.

  “Well, now,” Jackie said. “I was never one to stand in line. And Mack not only likes the women, they like him back.”

  Lainie grinned. Mack hadn’t tried to hide that fact about himself. Due to Reed’s reaction, she wouldn’t have to ward off advances from the tall cowboy—but she still had to counter the moves from that particular blue-eyed one who was discouraging everyone else.

  “And Reed’s a good friend, always has been,” Jackie went on. “Nothing romantic there.” Her gaze lowered to the green-print tablecloth, but she appeared to be looking inward. “Just happened to remember. When I first met Reed, I was already involved with...with that someone I told you about. His name was Carl Henry. Worst mistake I ever made in my life.”

  Jackie grew quiet, then looked up with a quick jerk of her head. “Pass me that bowl of salad. It was good enough I need seconds.”

  Chapter Seven

  Carl Henry Mason slammed his fist onto the top of the cot. The steel-mesh frame beneath the flimsy mattress bruised his knuckles.

  Stupid to be hurting himself, really stupid, and that only infuriated him more. But there was no one around for him to hit so he slammed the mattress again, this time with his open palm, pulling back just enough to protect himself.

  His parole hearing had been postponed. They could do that, any shitty time they wanted—didn’t even have to have a reason. It’d still happen, in time, but that was no consolation. He’d spent enough time in this hellhole and he wanted out. Now. There were a couple people in his hometown he wanted to visit.

  He whirled, spotted a magazine on the metal shelf bracketed into the wall, swept it to the floor and then stomped it into shreds. Wasn’t his magazine anyway; it belonged to Maynard, his cellmate and huge big pain in the ass.

  Maynard had been complaining about a toothache. It was the tooth Carl Henry had broken for him, but Maynard had enough sense not to mention that fact. The dentist was scheduled for today, and the whining windbag had complained long and loud enough he’d gotten in to see him. So he wasn’t here to hit, and Carl Henry had to hurt himself by hitting the damn, stinking mattress.

  He wondered who was responsible for the parole postponement. Some bleeding heart, probably a dumb-ass woman scared of her own shadow. Couldn’t make a move without a man standing over her with his fists and telling her what to do. Like his ma. His old man sure had beat the crap out of her. She’d probably deserved it. But when he’d started in on Carl Henry, just a little kid, wasn’t it a mother’s job to stand up for her son? Not huddle over there hiding her face in her hands, cowed and whimpering, when she’d known damn well begging wasn’t going to help.

  Mason Sr. had left his son alone once his son got big enough to fight back, but he’d still be using his wife for a punching bag if he hadn’t keeled over drunk one night and never woke up. His ma had come into some insurance money there, but wouldn’t you know it? Carl wasn’t around to help her spend it.

  His brow furrowed as his mind returned to the parole board. He’d had that wrong, he realized; a bleeding heart would be on his side, would believe in rehabilitation and giving a man a chance. Then a second and third and fourth, someone who’d just keep giving a man a chance until he either proved you right or died, whichever came first. Carl Henry knew that kind; he counted on them.

  So the term he wanted was bitch. It’d been a plain and simple, ball-breaking bitch who’d nixed his parole hearing. He looked for something else to hit, something he could wallop on real good without hurting himself.

  Chapter Eight

  Randy Jones and Vindication melded into one as soon as Randy settled in the saddle. Shoulders level, back straight, hips barely moving with the motion of the horse, Randy’s horsemanship would’ve outshone even Mack Jameson’s. After ten minutes Randy had yet to offer any riding tips, but Lainie doubted that was because none came to mind.

  “Okay, teacher,” she’d said as she and Glory had followed Randy and his mount out of the stable, and then she’d watched the man’s back tighten up as if he were in pain.

  Okay. So much for student and teacher. She gave it a couple of minutes, then tried for two people conversing while riding on horses. “Shade’s hard to come by around here.” Again his shoulders hunched. Lainie doubted that it was her voice grating on him. The fact that she was female, maybe? Words had come easily enough as he’d conversed with Nelly about saddle soap.

  She recognized his headgear. The high crown added inches he didn’t need and the hat had a wide, floppy brim. Thank goodness he’d removed the feather. “I see you’re wearing your new hat. I met Bobbie and her sister when they were shopping for it.”

  The comment must’ve been too personal. His face turned deepening shades of crimson.

  Out of sympathy for him, she grew quiet and stared at the terrain. Thorny mesquite dotted the dusty flatland along with some hawthorn, and an occasional gully broke its monotony. Judging by the dried look of the unmistakable evidence they’d left behind, she guessed it’d been a while since cows had been through here.

  Once he realized she didn’t bite, Randy might ease up. For now, however, he rode alongside just to make sure she didn’t fall off, get lost, or vaporize into thin air. She gave it five more minutes and called it quits. His relief was almost comical, but she didn’t take it personally.

  That evening she caught Reed on his way into the main house. He paused, probably realizing she wanted to talk. She waited until Carter, who’d entered with him, moved on ahead.

  “So how did it go today?” Reed asked, prompting her.

  “Uh, well, don’t misunderstand, but, uh, well...”


  He grinned, and made a keep going, circular gesture with his hand. “Go ahead. You can do it. You can get it out.”

  “Randy’s shy. That’s the worst punishment you could’ve inflicted upon him, sending him out with me today. I don’t have a problem with him, don’t get me wrong, but he’s scared to death of me.”

  He chuckled. “Yep, he’s on the shy side. Sometimes I wonder how he worked up the courage to even say hello to Bobbie Ann, yet they’re engaged to be married.”

  “Believe me. If she hadn’t said it first, they’d still be strangers.”

  His chuckle deepened. “Okay. Next time you go out, ask Carter. He won’t talk your ear off, but he won’t turn red and stay that way until you return to the ranch, either. I’ll ask him to make time for you.”

  “Thanks. And I’ll concentrate on being non-threatening.”

  Carter was neither gabby nor shy and was a conservative teacher. He concentrated on commands, as Reed had, but would allow nothing more than a walk. Neither had Randy, and Lainie was looking forward to Reed’s return and more riding variety.

  She learned that Carter’s wife lived in Big Spring and worked in a bank. He went home on weekends, but lived at the ranch during the week. The arrangement had worked well for three years now, and they felt that instead of detracting from their marriage, it enhanced it.

  “If it works,” Lainie said, and let the words hang.

  As they headed back, she said, “Miles is the only man I’ve never seen at the stable. From conversation I’ve overheard, I assume he simply doesn’t like horses.”

  “Might be. Been here five years now and haven’t seen him on one. Heard his wife was killed in a riding accident, so maybe the old man never forgave the species.”

  Lainie noticed that many used that phrase, the old man, when referring to Miles. It wasn’t used in a derogatory sense, however; instead it was a title of respect, even affection.

  Today she’d assisted Nelly in saddling Glory, and she helped groom the horse when they returned. As she worked under the stableman’s gentle tutelage, she became aware she was no longer sore from riding. She was getting to be an old hand at this. She grinned, proud of herself, and caught Nelly’s answering smile.

  “Yes’m. You be learnin’ fast, little missy.”

  There was nothing he missed.

  As Reed had said, he was busy. She didn’t see him for three days, then found him alone at the table when she arrived late for supper. Looking at the sideboard, she realized it was best not to be late. A portion of a macaroni and cheese casserole was left, along with a platter of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, and that was it.

  She sat opposite Reed, who pushed his empty plate aside and gave her a half-smile. As he settled back and hooked his thumbs inside his belt, his expression made her think mischief lurked behind his smile.

  Uh-oh. A grownup with mischief on his mind. Especially this particular grownup.

  He roused himself to ask a question, “You miss California?”

  “Well, yeah.” The casserole was crusty on top and cheesy in the middle. “But I’ve been too busy to really get homesick. A lot to do, more to learn.” The ranch, how it worked, the people, her job. And figuring out who her grandfather was, way down deep where it counted.

  “No one particular person you’re missing, then.”

  “No,” she said, getting his drift. The glint dancing in his eyes was hard not to answer, and she had to clamp teeth on her bottom lip to keep from flirting back. But she was more certain now than when she’d met him that he could prove to be big trouble. She stabbed the last chunk of cucumber on her plate.

  “Well, goodnight,” she said, pushing away from the table.

  Reed was still seated when she stood and turned away, yet somehow he beat her to the sideboard. Politely he pointed toward the bin where she could deposit her plate and utensils, as if she hadn’t used it countless times already and knew exactly where it was. Then when she turned toward the door leading to the hall, she found him right in front of her again, with the devil still in his eyes.

  She gave him a cool smile. Which was all he was going to get from her. “Back off, cowboy,” she said, making her voice both light and firm.

  Surprising her, he did exactly that. He backed up until his back hit the wall, and then he showed her his hands, palms innocently turned up, but he still wore that grin.

  Lainie glanced toward the doorway, gauging the distance because she didn’t trust him. But there was only one way out of the room. She stepped out of his reach as she walked past—or at least thought she did.

  His hand snaked out, caught her arm, and suddenly their positions were reversed.

  Uh-oh.

  Warily, with her back now against the wall, she stared back into amused eyes that were as blue as the sky and as confident as those of a hunter with cornered quarry. Where was Miles? Where was Rosalie? It was a right small community until she wished for a crowd, and then no one was around.

  Reed placed a hand on the wall on either side of her, effectively pinning her in without touching her. “Sure, I’ll back off,” he said. His eyes held more warm promise than threat, and had Lainie’s skin tingling even though he wasn’t touching her.

  “For now,” he went on in that lazy drawl. “But one day I’ll be getting my lasso around you, and I guarantee I won’t be backing off then.” His gaze holding hers, he touched his forefinger to his mouth, then pressed it against her lips. “Be warned.” It wasn’t even a real kiss, yet it was the sexiest touch to her lips she’d ever known.

  And then he walked away.

  Lainie stared straight ahead, her peripheral vision taking in the fact he’d left the room, and then she drew in a long breath and blew it out. Big trouble? He was as hot as a forest fire, and all she had to fight him with was a melted ice cube.

  *

  Two days later, Lainie experienced her first tornado watch and was introduced to the tornado closet. The room they used for office supplies was situated off the hallway in the center of the house and was specially constructed and reinforced. If a watch ever became a warning, she was told to head for that closet.

  The week brought thunderstorms, wild wind and rain, but nothing worse than a California storm. Nevertheless, she’d been edgy and nervous. Fortunately, it was late spring and they were nearing the end of tornado season. She was warned not to relax for that reason alone, however. A tornado could form at any time of the year.

  *

  In order to introduce Lainie to his lawyer and accountant, Miles set up a working midday meal (that was one way to put it without getting confused) in nearby Farber because both men worked out of there.

  Lainie’s ice-blue sheath was comfortably cool and as casually dressy as Miles’s brown slacks and gold-checked western shirt. They traveled in his custom gold and black SUV, the most luxurious vehicle Lainie had ever seen. Inside and out.

  “Gorgeous,” she said, taking a long look around before settling in her seat. Plush ebony upholstery, top of the line sound system, TV mounted back there, mini fridge.

  “You want to drive?” he asked.

  “Huh?” She snapped her head his way. “You can’t be serious.”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  He meant it, she saw. He’d actually hand over the keys to this beautiful piece of machinery.

  “You surely do have a beautiful smile, little girl. You want to come around here and take the wheel?”

  With a grin, she shook her head. “No thanks. I’ll watch you, see how it handles, and maybe take you up on that offer another time.”

  When he switched the key on, she barely heard the engine catch. “You’re a walking, talking contradiction, Lainie Sue. Impulsive one minute, then wanting to take your time the next.”

  “Yeah, I can be impulsive,” she admitted, uncomfortably realizing he was right on target. “Yet at other times I want to know the temperature of the water before I dip my toes in.”

  Like now, she thought. I wa
nt to know who you are before I tell you who I am.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He looked thoughtful as he watched the road. “I’m wondering if impulsive is the best word for you. Seems to me you’ve got a nervy streak that leads you into taking chances. Maybe even trouble.”

  Lainie studied his words, trying to figure out if she’d just been complimented, criticized, or warned, then she decided to take the observation at face value. She sometimes got the impression she and her grandfather were like a cat and mouse circling each other—and the most troubling aspect of that image was that they seemed to keep changing roles.

  As they traveled, something nagged at the edge of her mind but eluded her. She watched the landscape roll past, aware they were still on Lone Tree land. Though she wasn’t sure of the exact acreage, she’d learned twenty-five acres were needed per cow and calf, and Lone Tree stock numbered over seven hundred.

  Then it hit her. She gave him a quick look. “How did you know my name is Lainie Sue?”

  He glanced at her, then back at the road. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I don’t use my middle name. I didn’t put it in my resume.”

  The SUV’s wheels rolled soundlessly over the cattle guard as it passed through the ranch gate.

  “I run a check on everyone I hire,” Miles explained. “That was the name on your California driver’s license.”

  “Oh.” She’d expected a routine check. Her car’s license plate was right there in plain sight, and a simple check would produce her name and California address, which would’ve only verified what she’d already freely divulged. Being faced with the actuality rather than the prospect, however, made her feel exposed.

  “Does it bother you that I ran a check on you?” Miles asked, which made her think her discomfort might be showing.

  So she made her voice casual. “No, of course not. I’d be surprised if you hadn’t.”

  “Why don’t you use your full name? It’s pretty.”

  “It’s not that I don’t use it, so much as my mother didn’t.” In the side mirror she watched dust spitting from the rear tire. “That’s what she named me, but she never called me that, so I’m not used to it.”