Return to the Black Hills

by Debra Salonen

  Apparently, her tear ducts weren’t melted shut, after all.

  Cade held his brave, amazing, sobbing Jesse as tightly as he could. His muscles still tingled and twitched, and it seemed at any moment he’d lose strength altogether.

  “It’s the boss,” a voice called. “Over here. Where’s the ambulance?”

  Six men rushed up to him. “Boss, you’re hurt. What happened?”

  Cade pointed toward the door. “One man. Inside. Dangerous. Might have a gun.”

  The men looked at each other.

  “Hank is coming,” Jessie said. “I called him.”

  And as if beckoned by their thoughts, the man materialized through the smoke. Hank didn’t hesitate to call for backup. “Fire trucks are rolling. This doesn’t look good.”

  “We know what to do,” his foreman said. He took off at a dead run, shouting orders. “Get the animals in the new barn outside. Roust the day crew. We need all hands on the water pumps and hoses. Let’s go, people.”

  Cade sagged slightly.

  “Hank,” Jessie cried. “Help.”

  The deputy rushed forward to flop Cade’s free arm around his shoulders. “What a pair you make,” he said, looking at Jessie.

  Cade looked down. She was limping badly.

  “Yeah, well, it’s better than a gunshot.”

  “Huh?”

  Cade barely listened as she filled in the details he’d mostly missed. His brain wanted to participate, but his recovering muscles captured all his attention.

  “Shock,” he heard someone say.

  “No,” he said. “He Tasered me.”

  With that announcement, the EMTs eased him onto the gurney and started checking his vitals. Rubber-coated fingers pried up his eyelids and flashed a bright pencil-tip strobe of light back and forth.

  “We’re taking him in,” one of them murmured.

  He wanted to stay, to be at Jessie’s side when Zane was carted away. He tried to rise from the stretcher.

  A warm, familiar hand gripped his. “Cade. Relax and let these guys do their job.”

  He opened his eyes. Jessie.

  “I’ll call his sister. She’s in Denver with his daughter. I’m sure they’ll want to come home right away.”

  “Tell Shiloh not to worry. I’m fine.”

  Jessie leaned close and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Braggart.”

  He was still smiling when he was loaded into the rear of the ambulance. There was so much he wanted to tell her. Important stuff, like he’d never expected to love anyone again but the feelings he had for her redefined love.

  As the EMTs were preparing to close the doors, Jessie climbed in. Now was his chance. Now he could tell her everything.

  She squeezed his hand. “I know, love. I know. You can rest now. Everything is being handled. I’ll keep an eye on things until you get back.” She hopped out and the ambulance headed in the direction of the hospital.

  Until you get back.

  He was pretty sure she said that.

  But he wasn’t sure what she meant. Why did her eyes look so sad when she made the promise? And why did that sound like goodbye?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TO JESSIE’S IMMENSE SURPRISE, she discovered her phone in the pocket of her hoodie. She was bleeding, filthy and she smelled like a bonfire, but she had her communication device. “Bizarre,” she mumbled from her perch on the back of the second emergency vehicle.

  The three EMTs were not the same ones who’d transported her the first time. These guys actually listened to her when she said she was fine. “My ankle is an old injury. I’ll keep it iced tonight and hobble into the ortho doc’s office tomorrow.”

  While they’d agreed not to take her to the hospital, they had insisted on observing her and measuring her lung function over the next hour. Fires equaled smoke inhalation. She got it. She knew the drill, all too well.

  She started to take a deep breath but felt a cough coming on, so she let it out and panted shallowly while she called her sister.

  “Jessie? What time is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Our trap was a huge success,” she said, speaking as lowly as possible. She didn’t want anyone to hear exactly how stupid they’d been. Zane was a maniac. She’d completely underestimated him—mostly because she hadn’t grasped his motive. Jessie vaguely remembered Dar talking about mutual insurance policies in case something happened to either of them. “So Girlz doesn’t suffer,” she’d claimed.

  But Jessie couldn’t recall ever seeing one or signing anything. Whatever the dollar value, it must have been huge.

  “Zane showed up. He’s in custody.”

  Hank hadn’t hesitated for a moment. After escorting Cade and Jessie to the waiting gurneys, he’d plunged fearlessly into the barn, shoulder to shoulder with the first firefighter he could buttonhole. Together they dragged Zane to safety.

  The man was obviously injured and couldn’t draw a deep breath without hacking up a lung, but he was the last to be seen by the paramedics. First, Hank read Zane his rights and made certain he answered with a gasping, “Yeah,” followed by a long stream of curse words.

  She didn’t know where either man was currently.

  “That’s good,” Remy said, her voice a hushed whisper. “Hold on a minute, Jess. Let me get to the bathroom so we can talk. Shiloh and I are sharing a room.”

  Shiloh. Oh, God, how was she going to face Shiloh when she was nearly responsible for making the little girl an orphan?

  “Okay,” Remy said, coming back on the line. “Tell me what’s going on. Everything. I can hear it in your voice. Something happened.”

  Jessie sagged against the open door of the ambulance and spilled her guts. Everything. Including her conclusion that her career was going to be on hold for who knew how long. She looked at her ankle, which was swollen to twice its size.

  “Oh, no,” Remy cried. “I’m so sorry. But the important thing is you’re both okay, right?”

  “Yeah,” Jessie concurred halfheartedly.

  “I’ll wake up Kat and Jack. We’ll be there as soon as humanly possible. What hospital did they take Cade to?”

  “Same one I was in.”

  “Jessie,” Remy said sharply. “It’s late. You’re traumatized and in pain. You need to go to bed and let Cade’s people handle things. I mean it. Go to bed. The world will look brighter in the morning.”

  She turned to face the beautiful, dazzling red-orange flames devouring the handsome old barn. Her fault. Her ego. Her foolish belief that she had even a tiny bit of control over her destiny.

  “Okay,” she said softly. “See you when you get here. Oh, wait, Remy. Do you remember the name of the garage that is fixing Yota?”

  Remy didn’t answer immediately. “What are you planning?”

  “Since I’m not going to Japan, there’s no reason for me to stay here, right?”

  Remy said the name but she added, “Do not—I repeat—do not make an impulsive gesture, Jessie. I know how you think, and I can tell you, whatever you’re planning, don’t.”

  Jessie laughed. “I’m planning to go to bed.”

  “Oh. Okay. Do that. But nothing else.”

  “Good night, Remy,” she said, closing her phone. She wouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep. That seemed to be the point of this life lesson, didn’t it? She’d promised to win Kamikaze and donate the proceeds to Girlz. When she failed to do that, Dar decided to cash in on a life-insurance policy using Jessie’s job to make her death look like an accident.

  “Damn,” she muttered, slipping off the back of the ambulance.

  She couldn’t face returning to Cade’s bed without him, so she hobbled to the guesthouse and dropped like a hot, stinky rock on top of the covers. She closed her eyes and was out, just like that.

  JESSIE SLEPT FOR WHAT FELT like days and when she rolled over and opened her eyes she found a white-haired giant standing beside her bed. She levitated off the bed, scrambling backward even as her brain decided that sh
e actually knew this person, even though she’d never met him.

  Buck.

  He was Cade’s father.

  He tilted his head to one side and smiled, gently. “You must be Jessie. Looks like that party in the barn was a doozy. Want some coffee? I just made it.”

  Then he left.

  Her heart rate slowly dropped to normal. She looked at the clock beside her bed. Nearly noon. Crap. She’d planned to be gone by now.

  Of course, she didn’t have a car, but she’d remedy that soon enough. If Yota wasn’t ready to go, she’d rent one.

  “Shower first,” she called to the man she assumed was still in his house.

  She stood under the hot water until her sore, over-taxed muscles finally loosened up. Then she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She didn’t know where her shoes were, but she’d find them while she packed.

  She glanced at her reflection for a second, then opened the door and walked to the kitchen to face what she was certain would be the first of many interrogations. She had a lot to answer for, but when hadn’t she?

  BUCK COULDN’T REMEMBER ever wanting to be rich. He worked because that’s what a man did. He was smart enough and lucky enough to amass a pretty sizeable fortune. Only on rare moments, such as waking up in the middle of the night in California and wanting to be back in South Dakota as fast as possible, did his money play a factor. It was times like this that he was happy to burn through however much it took.

  He’d arrived before the last of the fire trucks rolled out his gate. He’d stepped from the limo he’d hired to meet his jet at the airport and talked briefly with the engine commander. Buck heard the whole story and was given the number for the sheriff’s deputy in charge of the investigation.

  Hank Miller was an old friend. He shared what he knew willingly. The saga made Buck’s heart race. He couldn’t care less about the barn. All that mattered were his son, his granddaughter and the people under Cade’s care. Cade was doing fine and would be released later that day. Their staff was all fine. No injuries. The bad guy was in custody.

  The only person no one seemed to know for sure about was Jessie. Like Baby Bear in the children’s story, he returned home to find Goldilocks sound asleep on his bed. Sooty tear tracks told him all was not well.

  “I’m Jessie Bouchard,” she said, limping toward him after her shower.

  “Nice to meet you. My son told me you and your sister were staying here. I probably shouldn’t have burst in like this, but nobody was in the big house. I was concerned.”

  She shook his hand then walked to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. “No problem. How did you get here so fast? I thought you were on the West Coast.”

  “Learjet. Damn fast. I’d buy one if I knew how to fly it.”

  She snickered softly. “Beats driving.”

  He didn’t ask the obvious. She’d tell him when she was ready.

  “Do you want the long or the short version?”

  “Already heard the long one from Hank. Gimme the short.”

  “A teammate of mine—someone I considered a friend—decided he’d make a fortune by killing me. The money was supposed to come from another ex-friend who embezzled from our company then hired a hit man so she could collect on the life insurance I stupidly let her take out on me. Dumb, huh?”

  “Eh,” he said with a shrug. “We trust people. Some of them turn out to be snakes. It happens.”

  Her slightly bloodshot eyes opened wide.

  She might have said more but his phone jingled in his pocket. “’Lo?”

  “Dad. You heard the news, right? Cade, this huge basket of flowers is for you.” Kat had always been one to carry on two conversations at once. You had to pay attention or you’d never know if she was talking to you.

  “Yeah. Men never get flowers. What’s with that? You must be at the hospital,” Buck said.

  “We are. Cade is fine. He’s not happy to be here and keeps trying to get out of bed, but Nurse Ratchet is bound and determined to keep him here until his doctor signs the proper form.”

  “Good for her. Listen, Kat, I’m home now. And if Cade’s being released soon, I won’t bother heading into town. I’m having coffee with Jessie at the moment.”

  He heard his daughter share that information with the people she was with. “Dad, Jessie’s sister Remy wants to talk to her. Can you give her your phone?”

  “Can and will.” He held out the phone. “Your sister.”

  He refreshed his coffee, trying not to eavesdrop too obviously.

  “I know.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Tell her goodbye for me. And I’ll call Cade from the road.”

  She hit End and handed him the phone.

  “You’re leaving.”

  She nodded. “Yes. My ankle is pretty jacked up. I’m canceling all of my upcoming jobs. I need R & R. Remy and I inherited our family home after our mother passed. I figure that’s a cheap place to recuperate.”

  All logical, well-thought-out arguments. But none was the reason she was leaving.

  “My son cares for you. Deeply.”

  She rinsed her cup under the faucet. “Your son is a wonderful person. Probably the best I’ve ever met. He’s also a great father.”

  “In other words, you love him, too,” Buck said, cutting to the chase. “Then why are you leaving?”

  She walked to the far window and pulled back the drapes. “Did you see your barn when you drove in?”

  “Pretty hard to miss.”

  “It would still be standing if not for me. I’m cursed or something. I’m like a firebug. This is the second structure I’ve managed to level in my lifetime.”

  He joined her at the window. “I can’t speak to the first, but according to the fire investigator, my barn was booby-trapped. The initial fire could have been put out relatively quick, only this whack job planted a whole bunch of little incendiary devices all along the outer walls. Is that your fault, too?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “I’m the reason he came here. He was looking for me. Trying to kill me.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you had any say in that matter.”

  She turned away. “It’s complicated.” She paused in the doorway leading to her bedroom. “Is there anyone around who could give me a ride to my car? It’s in someplace called Hill City.”

  Buck weighed his options a moment. Cade might never forgive him, but maybe, just maybe, Buck could find out what was really bothering this poor girl if he volunteered to drive her.

  “Since my truck made it through the fire fine, I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

  “Thank you. I’ll get my things together and meet you outside.” She paused. “Oh, wait. Would you do me a favor and let Sugar—the little raccoon in the pen on the veranda—out after you get home?”

  He heard a tremor in her voice, but she didn’t stick around long enough for him to ask any questions. This woman was hurting. Deep down in a way that had nothing to do with physical pain.

  Oh, son of mine, you’re gonna have your hands full convincing this one she’s worthy of your love. But I wish you luck. The good ones are always worth the effort.

  CADE KNEW WHAT JESSIE WAS going to say even before he pushed the button on his cell phone. “Hey,” he said, leaning back against his small, ineffectual hospital pillow. “I wondered if you were going to call. Or come see me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Need a ride?”

  “No. Your father just dropped me off at the Hill City garage. I’m sitting in Yota as we speak. I’m two new tires and a brake job poorer, but at least I’m road-worthy.”

  He scowled at the ceiling. “And that’s important because…”

  “I’m going home.”

  There. The truth. How had he known it was coming? The look of despair in her eyes the night before? Maybe.

  “L.A.?”

  “No. I’ll have to go back there sometime. A
ll my stuff is in storage, but I don’t expect to be working for a long time.”

  Her ankle. “You sacrificed your body to save my life.”

  She gave a raw little chuckle that didn’t sound happy. “I was fighting tooth and nail to save my own hide. Burns are not my friend, remember?”

  How could he forget? Last night must have been pure hell for her. The fear, the memories, the potential horror of going down that road again. “Don’t go, Jessie. Please. Not yet. We need to talk, face-to-face.”

  She let out a long, raspy sigh that served to remind him that she’d refused inhalation treatment. One of the paramedics had told him so. “Ah, well, now you know the truth about me. I’m a coward. Physical challenges don’t scare me, but emotional quagmires I avoid like the plague. It’s better this way, Cade. Trust me. We had fun. It was…amazing. But your dad is home now. You don’t need me anymore.”

  “You’re wrong, Jessie. I might not need a renter or a babysitter, but I—I meant it when I told you I love you.”

  She was quiet for so long he thought the call had been dropped. Then she said, “I know, Cade. Me, too. But it wasn’t the ever-after kind of love. That takes a special sort of person, and I’m not one of them. I hope you’ll find someone better. I have to go. I love you. I do. Goodbye.”

  “I love you? Goodbye?” he repeated, nearly hurling his phone across the room. What the hell sense did that make?

  He grabbed his call button and stabbed the little nurse symbol as hard as he could. He wanted out of this bed, this room and this hospital right this minute. The love of his life was leaving and he was stuck in bed in a bare-ass hospital gown.

  Half an hour later, he faced his greeting party—Kat and Remy and Shiloh—in the main lobby when his strong-willed nurse, who reminded him in some ways of Jessie, wheeled him to the door.

  He decided to get the subject out in the open the moment Kat pulled out of the parking lot. “She called. She told me she was leaving.”

  Remy reached across the seat to squeeze his shoulder. “I tried to talk her out of it. But I’d like to go on record as saying I think this is less about you than it is about our mother, her death and what happened when Jessie was a girl. The fire brought back a lot of memories. None of them good.”