Lone Tree

by O'Keefe, Bobbie

  Because they lived in town and had already been to the Cooper house, Lainie realized their visiting time was going to be short.

  “But I had to come see you,” Lori went on with an earnest look at Lainie. “Sometimes you just have to talk to people, tell them you care. Took a batch of cookies to Jackie Lyn, too. She was just a year behind me in school.” She looked down at her lap. “Can’t believe a man could do what he did. Shouldn’t speak bad of the dead, but he deserved what he got.”

  Lainie’s head jerked up. “What?”

  Then she looked at Reed, who’d shoved the ottoman alongside her armchair and now sat on it, cookie in hand. “Carl Henry’s dead?”

  He gave her a sideways glance, but didn’t respond.

  Glen Charles and Lori looked at each other. “Sorry,” they said in unison. And then he added, “Didn’t mean to speak outta turn.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Reed said with a shrug. “No secret. Just hadn’t come up.”

  Hadn’t come up? Lainie thought, watching him. But all she said was, “When?”

  “Couple days ago,” Reed answered without looking at her. “Never made it back to prison. Was stabbed to death at the county jail.”

  Lainie nodded slowly, then looked back at their guests.

  “No witnesses,” Glen Charles supplied. “No suspects.”

  “Does Jackie know?” Lainie directed the question to the room at large.

  “Not really sure,” Reed said quietly.

  Lori frowned as she stared into space, as if trying to remember if anything had been said during today’s visit.

  “Ray mentioned it,” Glen Charles said. “When we took that walk. They know.”

  After Reed saw their guests out, he came back in and looked at Lainie.

  “So she’s free,” she said. “Finally and forever.”

  He nodded.

  “I agree with Lori. Can’t muster pity for him.”

  “Doesn’t deserve any,” he said flatly.

  Lainie smoothed wrinkles in her denim skirt, thinking she might know why Reed hadn’t told her about Carl Henry. But she was reluctant to ask to make sure. She recalled the look of Miles in the hospital: cold, hard, silent. He could be ruthless, had money and power and clout, possibly far-reaching clout. But could he...

  “No witnesses,” she repeated. “No suspects.”

  “That’s right.”

  She rested a hand on each knee. One looked and felt no different from the other. Only when she moved the right one did she know it was injured.

  “Did Miles have anything to do with it?” she asked, and had to force herself not to hold her breath waiting for a reply.

  “I don’t know,” he answered evenly.

  She looked up then. He exhaled heavily, and he shook his head and looked away. “You shouldn’t ask the question if you’re not prepared to hear the answer.”

  The cold, sick feeling grew.

  Looking back at her, Reed went on, voice sounding carefully precise. “I saw his face that night, same as you did. If you’re asking me if he’s capable of arranging for it to be done, the answer is yes. If you’re asking if he did it, the answer is that I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Lainie, you’ve got to consider that the population inside a jail is unsavory and unpredictable. Why try to read more into it? However it happened, it had nothing to do with you, so don’t make yourself sick over it.”

  But Lainie knew that if Miles was responsible for Carl Henry’s death, it was because of her and Jackie. Then she realized that she agreed with Reed. She didn’t want to know either.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  One month later, Lainie looked across the supper table at Reed. “I understand my house is ready.” She made sure her voice held neither challenge nor accusation.

  He glanced her way but said nothing. He continued clearing the table.

  “I understand it’s been ready for a week. Miles thought you’d told me.”

  “You’re not ready to be on your own yet. When you are, I’ll move you over there.”

  “As far as you’re concerned, I’ll never be ready.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said blandly. He closed the dishwasher and got it started. “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room.”

  “I don’t need...”

  At his forbearing look, she cut herself off. He hadn’t listened to her yet and wasn’t going to start now. With her gaze holding his—and she was no longer trying to hide defiance or irritation or anything else—she pushed her chair back and got to her feet. All by herself.

  He nodded. “Good.”

  She wanted to yell at him. Scream. Swear. Instead she made her way into the next room, walking slowly and carefully. The limp had improved but was still there, and she knew he was looking for it. Settling herself in the armchair, she gave him a warning look.

  He caught it because he shook his head, implying that the problem didn’t lie with him; she was just being troublesome. “Got work to do. You want to read or watch TV?”

  She looked to either side. A paperback book was on her right, remote control on the left. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

  He disappeared into the second bedroom that he used as an office.

  She sank back into the chair. If she got up, he’d hear her and be right back in here. He seemed convinced she was unable to take care of herself, that she didn’t even know how. He’d treated her like something fragile ever since he’d brought her home from the hospital, and he was driving her nuts. Sure, he’d always been bossy, highhanded, had practically made an art out of nagging. Yet he’d also treated her as an equal, and she wanted that back.

  He’d even put sex on hold, making the decision all by himself, which had made it necessary for her to seduce him. Admittedly, it had been a very careful seduction, and, to his credit, he’d put up some resistance. But she’d won. She smiled.

  Then the smile disappeared. That was all she’d won. She’d thought he’d ease up after that, but he hadn’t. Disregarding his objections, she’d returned to the office, and when he saw her there he’d headed toward her from the patio doors as if ready to pick her up and carry her out of there. She opened her mouth to warn him away and was ready to sock him a good one if he so much as tried.

  But Miles knocked his mug of coffee off his desk, splattering Reed’s jeans and boots, and that stopped him. He looked at his feet, then at his boss.

  “Sorry.” Miles reached for the intercom, shaking his head at himself. “Rosalie, need something to mop up a mess.”

  Crisis avoided, Lainie returned to the payroll ledgers. Reed wiped off his boots with a kerchief from his back pocket, came to stand next to her desk, and she tilted her head to direct a steady look up at him.

  “Half days,” he said, grudging note in his voice.

  She pursed her lips. Her knee was just as safe when she sat in her desk chair as when she sat in the armchair in front of the TV.

  “Good idea,” Miles said. “Don’t want to push it first couple days back.”

  After a brief moment, Lainie waggled her hand and then went back to work, conceding the point and dismissing them both with the same gesture.

  Soon after that, she started hobbling out to the stable each day—Reed didn’t like that either—and taking treats to Glory. As weather permitted, she resumed eating lunch with Nelly.

  Some days she felt like she’d never heal, never be able to ride again, not even be able to get up and walk without having to concentrate on each step. Faithfully she followed the exercise regimen, neither slacking nor overdoing it. Improvement was so slow she feared there might be permanent damage. And having to fight Reed every time she turned around didn’t help.

  Although she never voiced her fears to Nelly, he calmly reassured her. “You healing just fine, little missy. Don’t worry. You better already. In no time at all, you be up there on Glory again.”

  He gave her a toothless grin. “And don’t worry ’bout Mr. Reed. He’s not right all times, just most times, an
d this not one of those times. When the time’s right, I see to it you get in that saddle. If need be, I explain things to Mr. Reed.”

  She felt as much relief as gratitude. She wasn’t the crazy one.

  Because the bum knee was her right one, she was unable to drive so remained a virtual shut-in. Jackie had returned to work and was looking for her own place. She’d joined a support group, was talking out her fear and anger and was growing stronger, physically and emotionally.

  Jackie had learned that Willis had also been targeted by Carl Henry. She was having a difficult time with that, knowing that so easily he could be dead because of her.

  Lainie listened, but didn’t push. If Jackie and Willis were suited for each other, it would happen for them. Right now, Jackie needed time, and Lainie’s impression was that Willis understood that.

  The women were healing by leaning on each other, and Lainie’s only contact with the outside world was through Jackie. When invited to spend a couple days at the Cooper house, she jumped at the chance. But she ran into a stumbling block.

  “No,” Reed said.

  “Huh?” She felt her eyes widen.

  “You’re better,” he admitted. “But think about it. You still can’t straighten your leg out or put all your weight on it. Everything here is familiar. You go somewhere else, you run the risk of moving wrong, maybe even taking a fall and hurting yourself all over again. Give it a while longer, then I’ll drive you over there.”

  “But...” At first she was more floored than angry. Then she jerked straight up in the chair. “That’s ridiculous. I’m fine. I already packed and I’m going today.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not ready. And I can’t stay here and argue about it. Got cows to move.”

  He left. Lainie stared at the door, glared at it, then threw her book at it. This was worse than ridiculous. She was going, one way or another, and when she returned from the Coopers’, she was moving back into her own house.

  Instead of calling Jackie to come pick her up, she went first to Miles, and found him in his office frowning at a Freecell game.

  “Stumped me again,” he muttered as she approached.

  Wasting neither time nor words, she got right to the point. “I want to go to Jackie’s. Reed said no. Will you drive me?” She’d said drive instead of carry, which was the term southerners used to signify transporting a person from one place to another in a car. Though she wasn’t using the lingo, she was learning it.

  He clicked out of the game and swiveled around to face her. “ ’Course I will, little girl.”

  Oh. That was so easy that she lost some huffiness. “Thank you,” she said formally. “I’m obliged.”

  With a grin, he settled back in his chair with elbows on the armrests and hands hanging loosely in his lap. “Can’t help but notice Reed’s been a mite overprotective of late. Was wondering how long you’d put up with it.”

  Then his expression sobered, and he added, “But it’s because he cares so much, Lainie. And I suspect he’s reacting to the way it happened even more than to the injury itself. Since he was helpless to protect you then, see, he’s working overtime at it now.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “If he didn’t care so much, he’d leave you alone and let you heal on your own.”

  “I’d get a whole lot better a whole lot faster if he would,” she grumbled. She didn’t know if Miles was right, wrong, or a busybody, and she wasn’t inclined to figure it out now. She returned to the issue at hand. “Hope you don’t mind driving my car. It handles well.”

  “No way. Would never be comfortable in that little thing.”

  “But...I can’t—”

  “Climb up into the truck? Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you up there.”

  She met him in the parking shed with her suitcase. He took the bag, put it in the back, opened the passenger door and motioned for her to come on.

  “Uh, Miles—”

  “You want to get over there sometime today, we’d best get started.” He waited patiently.

  Well, he was big enough, but she was still worried about her knee, his back. Gamely, she walked forward. He stooped, put his hands at either side of her waist, lifted and she was up there.

  She blinked. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Amusement showing in his eyes, he waited for her to get her legs in and then he closed the door.

  Getting out of the SUV was as easy as getting into it. Raymond and Jackie came out to greet them. Ray was in the market for a new truck, and the men fell into an avid discussion of one make versus another.

  Lainie gave Jackie what she thought was a casual look, and Jackie motioned her aside. “I’m fine, girl, and thank you for asking.”

  Lainie winced. “Oh. I was that obvious.”

  Jackie’s smile was small but genuine. “You care. And knowing that so many people do care helps me along. I won’t deny it’s hard, but I’m gettin’ there. One step at a time, one day at a time.”

  That afternoon, Lainie discovered that no matter how many players sat at the table, Jackie was close to unbeatable at dominoes. The phone rang at the end of the second game and Bobbie grabbed it, a sparkle in her eyes erasing the frown that had formed at her sister’s second win. Ray, who was in the recliner reading the newspaper, must’ve caught Bobbie’s enthusiasm. Drawing his glasses down onto the bridge of his nose, he smilingly eyed her over the rims.

  “Oh, hi, Reed.” Apparently that wasn’t the voice she’d expected, but she said brightly, “Sure, she’s right here.” She pushed the portable phone receiver across the table, and Lainie pushed it back.

  Bobbie’s forehead furrowed. “Uh...” she said.

  “I just got out of jail today,” Lainie explained. She pointed at the phone receiver. “And that’s my jailer.”

  “Oh,” Bobbie said. “In that case, uh, well...”

  Jackie picked up the phone. “Howdy, Reed. Lainie doesn’t want to talk right—”

  A pause, then, “Oh, no, nothing like that. We’re being careful, just sitting here playing dominoes. Her knee—”

  Lainie pushed the blocks around on the tabletop. Not even four o’clock yet; he’d come home early, missed her, checked with Miles and was probably calling from her phone in the office.

  “Well, no, Reed, I really don’t think—” Jackie listened, then, “No, that wouldn’t be—”

  Lainie pulled seven blocks, decided it wasn’t a legal shuffle so pushed them back.

  Her voice louder and firmer, Jackie finished a whole sentence. “Believe me, that would not be a good idea. She doesn’t want to go home tonight. Give her until tomorrow—”

  Emphatically, Lainie shook her head.

  “—or the next day.”

  Jackie’s gaze shot toward her guest. Then slowly she turned, showing Lainie her back and lowering her voice. “Did I hear you right? You want to talk to my parents?”

  A giggle burst out of Bobbie Ann. Ray pushed his glasses down on his nose and eyed the women at the table. Lainie leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “Well, Daddy’s right here, but...” Another pause. “Well, good. I don’t think so either.” She sounded both relieved and embarrassed. “And I promise we’ll take good care of her...all of us. We won’t let her, er, hurt herself.”

  Again she was silent, listening, then said, “That sounds better. Okay, Reed, bye now, and you take care, too.” She thumbed the off button and put the phone down.

  Ray got to his feet. “Excuse me, girls. I’m gonna go find somebody to annoy so you can talk about whatever you wanta talk about.”

  “Me, too,” Bobbie said. She stood, grabbed the phone and left.

  Jackie looked at the jumble of dominoes instead of Lainie. “I’m beginning to understand.”

  “Jackie, he’s driving me crazy.”

  “I can see how.”

  “So my knee’s a little sore, but he acts like, like...Jackie, what can I do?”

  “He’
s a reasonable man.” Jackie’s gaze flicked back. “At least he used to be. He should listen if—”

  “I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face. I even yelled at him, and he looked at me like I was the crazy one.”

  Jackie rubbed her forehead. “I’ve heard when one person in a relationship is injured or in pain, it can be even more traumatic on the one who’s not hurting. Now I believe it.”

  Lainie slumped back in her chair. “Two days won’t be enough. How long do you think your folks will put up with me?”

  Jackie laughed. “My folks aren’t the problem. Reed’s going to be here at eight sharp come Wednesday morning. That’s your problem.”

  But Lainie barely caught Jackie’s speech. Miles’s observations from earlier that day had recurred to her, and Reed’s actions suddenly were making sense. Lainie stared into space, tuning out Jackie, the Cooper house, everything.

  Reed was being overprotective because he cared.

  If he didn’t care so much, he’d leave her alone.

  Reed loved her.

  And she loved him back.

  At some point, the comfortable relationship had developed into a deep and abiding love. It was right there in front of her, in front of both of them, and had been for quite some time. Had he seen it, too?

  But instead of experiencing joy at the revelation, her heart was heavy. She felt guilty, scared, and worried. What was she going to do now? About Reed. Miles. Everything.

  Chapter Thirty

  At 7:50 a.m. Wednesday morning, Lainie watched the red truck drive up to the Cooper house. She opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. Reed sat in the cab for a moment, looking at her, as if unsure of his welcome. She’d never before seen him unsure about anything.

  It was a long way up to the seat of his pickup also, but she wasn’t worried about his back. He’d carried her in his arms before. Suddenly she wanted his arms around her, for any purpose, wanted to feel his touch. How she’d missed the bond of love developing, she didn’t know.