“What are they doing?” Deanna asked.
“Trying to create a firebreak.” Kizzie opened the truck door and got out, her face lined with worry. When Deanna joined her, Kizzie turned to her and said, “They have to get a section plowed around the fire, in front of it. They remove anything that can burn from the surface, so the fire will die out when it reaches the break. If they can create the firebreak quickly, then Luke will probably set a small controlled fire at the edge of the break, so the two fires will meet.”
“What happens if that fails?”
“Well, the fire department can drop dry chemicals from a helicopter if the fire’s not under control by the time they arrive. I’ve seen grass fires destroy hundreds of acres and by the looks of this one, I’d say there’s a good chance that’s going to happen here.”
“What about hooking up water hoses to the windmills and—”
“Won’t work,” Kizzie said. “It’d take hoses a mile long. Besides, the pumps generated by the windmills wouldn’t produce enough water pressure.”
“Oh.” Deanna wondered how she could be so ignorant about ranch life, when she’d grown up on a ranch. But the Circle A, though a working ranch, hadn’t been her family’s main source of income, the way Montrose was for the McClendons. Deanna’s grandfather had made his millions in oil, years before she was born. He had moved his family to Stone Creek and become a gentleman rancher, the place more of a hobby than anything else.
“At least we don’t have to worry about the house and barns and stables.” Kizzie shoved her tan Stetson back away from her forehead. If it was the western range on fire, we’d have twice the problems.”
“Is Luke in any danger?” Deanna asked. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean. And yes, of course, he’s in danger. That’s a wildfire out there, girl, and it’s destroying our grazing land. Luke will do whatever it takes, even risk his life.” Kizzie cocked her head to one side and looked at Deanna. “You and I are safe at this vantage point. The fire’s headed in the opposite direction. Thank God, the wind’s not high. That fire’s burning fast enough without any help.”
“Can’t we do anything to help?”
“Best thing we can do is stay out of the way.” Kizzie reached over and grabbed Deanna’s hand, clasping it tightly. “I know how you feel, worrying about your man. He’s my boy, even if I didn’t give birth to him.”
Clenching her teeth in an effort not to cry, Deanna squeezed Kizzie’s hand, then released it.
“What’s got me puzzled is how this fire got started in the first place,” Kizzie said. “I’m wondering if this fire and the twenty head of cattle that were shot yesterday have any connection.”
Deanna’s body tensed. “It makes sense, doesn’t it, that whoever killed the cattle, also started the fire.”
“Somebody’s out to get us—out to hurt the McClendons.”
“Or someone’s trying to scare y’all. Maybe the cattle slaughter and this fire are warnings.” Deanna listened, trying to hear the tractors’ roaring engines, but all she heard was the crackling carnage of the rapidly moving, deadly fire.
“You’re worried that your folks are behind what’s happened, aren’t you?”
“I know my family doesn’t want me to remember what happened the night Daddy died. At first I thought maybe I had killed Daddy and they were trying to protect me, but now I know that isn’t true. I can’t remember who stabbed Daddy with the pitchfork—not yet—but it’s only a matter of time until I do.”
“And they’re afraid that when you do remember, you’ll reveal the killer’s identity, that you’ll turn against them in order to clear Luke’s name. So, why kill our cattle? Why set a grass fire on the range?”
“I’m not sure, Kizzie, but I think maybe these things are warnings and they’re meant for me.”
Sweat drenched Luke to the skin. His shirt clung to his body. Rivulets of perspiration dripped from his sooty face. But he was smiling when he approached Kizzie and Deanna.
“We’ve got it under control,” he said. “It burned off close to two hundred acres. Could have been a lot worse. If the grass had been drier or the wind had been high.”
Kizzie handed Luke a thermos filled with water. He guzzled down the cool, refreshing liquid, then held up the container and poured the water over his head. He slung his head from side to side, showering the two women with the excess moisture.
He removed his shirt, wiped his face with it and then flung it over his shoulder. “I just can’t figure out how that fire got started in the first place.”
“Deanna and I figure it was deliberately set,” Kizzie said. “Of course Chief Hobgood will check things out and let us know if he finds anything suspicious. And I’ve called and left a message for Tyler. If this was arson, then he’ll be professionally involved, too.”
Luke looked at Deanna. “Do you know what’s going on?”
“No, not really, but I intend to find out.”
“What are you going to do?” Kizzie asked.
“I’m going to the Circle A and talk to my mother.”
Luke grunted. “You don’t think Phyllis Atchley is going to admit anything, do you?.”
“Luke, son...” Kizzie said.
“It’s all right, Kizzie,” Deanna told her. “Luke’s right. If my mother was capable of covering up the true facts of my father’s murder even if it meant sending an innocent man to prison, then she’s more than capable of arranging to have someone kill off your cattle and set fire to your pastureland.”
“You’re not responsible for what your mother did in the past or for what she might have done now.” Kizzie placed her arm around Deanna’s shoulder.
“Maybe I am. I have to find out. And if I can stop her, I will.”
Carlotta opened the front door for Deanna. “Señorita Deanna, your mama will be glad to see you. I will tell her you are here.”
The housekeeper hurried off, while Deanna strolled around the living room and waited. Would her mother be glad to see her? She seriously doubted it. Not after Phyllis heard what she had to say.
“Deanna,?” Phyllis, dressed casually in beige linen slacks and a brown silk blouse, hesitated in the doorway. “Darling, have you come home to stay?”
“No, Mother, I’m here on business.”
“Business?” Phyllis strolled into the living room at a leisurely pace that was in sharp contrast with the agitation Deanna noted in her mother’s eyes. “What do you mean? What business could we possibly have to discuss?”
“Old business that directly relates to some new business.”
“You’re talking in riddles. I’m afraid I don’t have any idea what you mean.”
Deanna studied her mother’s face. “I suppose you know that Junior calls me every day. I’m sure he reports to you like a dutiful son.”
“Your brother knows how concerned I am about you...about you living on Montrose, with that man.”
“His name is Luke McClendon.”
“I know very well what his name is.” Phyllis reached for Deanna, but let her hands drop when Deanna sidestepped. “When are you going to come to your senses and leave Stone Creek? You built a nice life for yourself in Jackson. I don’t see why you had to come back here and stir things up.”
“I assume by ‘stirring things up’ you mean regaining my memory, and knowing without a doubt that Luke didn’t kill Daddy.”
“I don’t care what you think you remember, you’re wrong. Luke ran your father through with a pitchfork. He was tried and convicted of the crime fifteen years ago. Let it be, Deanna. Please, don’t—”
“What are you so afraid of? Who are you trying to protect? Yourself?” Deanna took a step toward her mother, and looked her square in the face. “Did you kill Daddy?”
Phyllis gasped and clutched her throat dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I loved your father and he loved me.”
“Daddy loved half the women in the county. That had to make you hate him. Tell me
something—did you turn to Eddie for comfort? Was he a substitute husband to you the way he was a substitute father to me and Junior?”
Phyllis slapped Deanna. The sound reverberated throughout the room. And then a deadly silence followed. Deanna rubbed her stinging cheek.
“You won’t need to be informed, second hand, of my latest memory flash. I’ll tell you myself. I remember that Eddie wiped off the handle of the pitchfork, while it was still stuck in Daddy’s chest, and he told you he had to make sure that there were no fingerprints left on it. Whose fingerprints was he trying to remove? His own? Yours?”
“No one is going to believe you,” Phyllis said calmly. “No matter what you tell the authorities, nothing will come of your revelations. After all, you spent nearly five years in a mental hospital. A good lawyer could destroy you on the stand.”
“Oh, a good lawyer—a good district attorney—destroyed me on the stand years ago. But I’m not that same girl, Mother. I’m not afraid of you anymore. And I’m not afraid of the truth.”
“Maybe you should be afraid,” Phyllis said. “You have no idea what your so-called truth could do to this family.”
“I didn’t come here to discuss what the truth might do to our family. I came here to discuss what your fear is doing to the McClendons! What do you know about the Montrose cattle that were slaughtered and the grass fire that was deliberately set to destroy their grazing land?”
Phyllis’s cold blue eyes focused on Deanna. “What could I possibly know?”
“What do you hope to gain by wreaking havoc at Montrose?” Deanna asked. “If you think you’re going to force me to leave Luke—”
“I’ve done nothing, darling. I swear I’m not responsible for anything that has happened at Montrose.” Phyllis smoothed her right palm over her left and entwined her fingers.
“Why should I believe you? Give me one good reason why I should trust you?”
“Because...because I’m your mother.”
Deanna laughed mockingly. “I trusted you once. I made myself believe that everything you did was for my own good. But not anymore. You helped destroy my life! And for what? For whom? To protect yourself? Is that it, Mother?”
“You may not believe me, but I don’t want to see you hurt. I never did.” Phyllis slumped down on the sofa, her beautiful face pale and her bright eyes suddenly dull. “You’re my child and I do love you.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word love. If you loved me, you’d help me.” Deanna knelt at her mother’s feet. “You know who killed Daddy.” Her gaze locked with her mother’s. “If you love me, then tell me the truth. Tell me who killed Daddy and help me clear Luke’s name.”
Phyllis drew in a deep breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Tears misted her eyes.
Deanna grabbed her mother by the shoulders and shook her soundly. “Dammit, Mother, why are you so determined to destroy my life again!”
“I—I can’t tell you what you want to know.” Phyllis’s words were a mere whisper, the one sentence a tortured utterance.
Deanna rose to her feet, then looked down at her mother, whose head was bowed in a pathetic gesture of remorse. “You mean you won’t tell me!”
Lifting her head, Phyllis gazed beseechingly at Deanna. “You owe some sort of loyalty to your family. We stood by you when you had a nervous breakdown. I saw to it that you got the best treatment available. I paid all your bills at that expensive private sanitarium because I couldn’t bear the thought of my little girl being in a state facility.”
“You put me in Millones because you didn’t want anyone to know that your daughter was crazy or that you were the one who helped drive her crazy!”
“That’s not true! I did what I thought best for—everyone.”
“You did what you thought was best for yourself!” Deanna stormed out of the living room and into the foyer, almost colliding with her sister-in-law.
“Deanna!” Phyllis called out from the living room. “Please, darling, don’t go.”
“What’s wrong?” Benita asked. “What happened?”
“Why don’t you ask your mother-in-law?”
Deanna swung open the front door and ran outside, got in her car and drove away from the Circle A. She’d been stupid to think that confronting her mother would accomplish anything. She didn’t trust her own mother. She wouldn’t believe anything Phyllis Atchley said if she swore on a stack of bibles.
Her gut instincts told her that someone on the Circle A was behind the problems at Montrose—someone who wanted to warn her that remembering was dangerous. But was that someone her mother? She didn’t want to believe her mother was capable of such ruthlessness, but if not her mother, then who? Junior? Benita? Eddie?
“Luke rode out after he took a shower,” Kizzie said. “I don’t know for sure where he went, but my guess is he’s looking over the damage the fire did to the south pasture.”
“I have to find him,” Deanna said.
“How did your visit with your mother go?” Kizzie grasped Deanna’s hands. “What did she tell you?”
“Nothing. Not about Daddy’s murder. But either she killed my father or she’s protecting whoever did.” Deanna squeezed Kizzie’s hands and looked into her keen, dark eyes. “She claims she doesn’t know anything about the problems y’all are having here at Montrose. The cattle being shot. The grass fire. But I don’t know if I can believe her. I can’t trust my own mother!”
“Do you still think someone in your family is responsible?”
Deanna released Kizzie’s hands, then paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Yes, I do. I think someone is trying to warn me to leave Montrose and stop trying to remember what really happened the night Daddy was murdered.”
“Tyler called me about thirty minutes ago and he’s on his way here now. Maybe he should go over to the Circle A and question your mother.”
“There’s nothing Tyler can do. Mother will deny everything. And we have no proof that anyone from the Circle A was involved in the cattle slaughter or the grass fire. But in my gut—” Deanna laid her fist over her belly “—I know that my family is responsible.”
Kizzie moved up behind Deanna and placed her hand on Deanna’s shoulder. “I’m only now beginning to realize what it must have been like for you when your family found out that you were pregnant with Luke’s baby. They must have put you through hell.”
Deanna closed her eyes, trying to shut out the pain. She remembered all too well how her parents had reacted to the news. They had been bound and determined for Deanna to have an abortion.
Deanna patted Kizzie’s hand that rested on her shoulder, then turned to face Luke’s stepmother. “After I talk to Luke, I’m going to pack my things and in the morning I’ll leave Montrose.”
“No, you mustn’t go. We can handle whatever your family dishes out. If you leave now, what will happen to Luke?”
“I’ll eventually remember everything,” Deanna said. “And when I do, I’ll come back to Stone Creek and name the guilty person. But in the meantime, I have to—”
“Leaving is only a temporary solution,” Kizzie said. “Don’t you realize that if you’re right about your family, then whoever was behind the fire and the cattle slaughter was warning you to keep your mouth shut. He or she was telling you that if you don’t let sleeping dogs lie then the McClendons will pay the price.”
“Then that’s all the more reason to leave—to protect you and Luke and—”
Kizzie pulled Deanna into her arms and hugged her, then shoved her away. “I’m telling you to stay! We’ll see this thing through to the end together. And Luke will tell you the same thing. You go on now, and look for him out toward the south pasture and if he’s not there, then look up in the hills, near the site of the old cabin. I guess you know why he goes there so often.”
Deanna nodded agreement, “If Luke says I should stay, then I’ll stay. But if he wants me to leave...” She turned and hurried out of the house and toward the stab
les. All the while Kizzie’s last words echoed in her mind. I guess you know why he goes there so often. So often. So often.
Yes, her heart sang. Yes, she knew. Despite the fact that Luke had burned the cabin to the ground, he was still drawn to the site because he couldn’t forget the hours they had shared together, the moments of bliss they’d found in each other’s arms. If he went there often, then no matter what he said or what he believed, he did still care.
Deanna saddled Fair Weather and headed out toward the southern range in search of the person who held the key to her future happiness.
When she didn’t find Luke in the south pasture, she rode up into the hills, straight toward the site of the old cabin. Would she find him there—at their special place? Would he be glad to see her or would he be cold and distant? They had been on the verge of making love this morning—before the fire. The passion between them had been like old times. Hot, wild and all-consuming. But it had been loving. Not just sex. She had experienced both with Luke and she knew the difference.
She had to tell him and let him know that she planned to leave Montrose in the morning. Even if Kizzie had been determined for her to stay, she knew Luke wouldn’t feel the same way. More than likely, he’d be glad to see the last of her. He’d probably even help her pack!
She saw Cherokee first, grazing not far from the cabin site, and after she’d dismounted and walked though the tall brush, she saw Luke. He sat perched on a boulder about thirty yards from the ruins, staring at the old chimney. His big shoulders tensed. He turned his head slightly and looked back over his shoulder.
He must have heard her approach, she thought, and knew he had when their gazes met and held. He stood and walked toward her until only inches separated their bodies. Their eyes locked.
“How did you know where to find me?” he asked.
“Kizzie.” Deanna cleared her throat. Luke was too big, too tempting and much too close. “Kizzie told me that you came up here a lot and that I should check for you here, if I didn’t find you looking over the destruction to the southern range.”
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