“She’s magnetic,” Ryder said, “people adore her and they don’t know why.”
Most of the stories involved Cassidy stealing Ryder’s friends away every time she visited. As close as I could tell, she was a pathological flirt.
“It’s come to the point that I don’t tell anyone she’s coming. They all start salivating the second they hear her name,” he lamented as we cleaned one of the pastures Thursday afternoon.
“So she has a lot of boyfriends?” I asked.
He rested on the handle of his manure fork for a moment. “Not really. You have that in common. She hates relationships.”
I ignored his jab and resisted the desire to correct him. I didn’t hate relationships, I just— Whatever. Not important.
“How does she do it?” I scooped a pile and dumped it into the wheelbarrow as I waited for his response.
He thought for a moment then said, “I’ve never been sure. Cass exudes this confidence, like she’s invincible.”
I chewed on the word. Invincible. That would take my mind a little time to digest.
As I glanced at Ryder, I caught him staring at the bullet wound near my shoulder. I ran my palm over the angry spot self-consciously.
“How are you going to hide that?” Ryder asked.
Nervously, I chewed at my inner lip. “I haven’t figured that out. Cassidy likes tank tops.”
Ryder’s fingers brushed over the scar tissue. I was sure he meant to touch me like a doctor, clinical and professionally, but the touch was tender and apologetic. “Is it still bothering you?”
I dropped away from his touch to quell my emotional discomfort. “Nothing I can’t deal with.”
Knowing he’d overstepped his bounds again, he shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. “I have to go, and I’ll be back late. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
A deep sigh swelled his chest before he said, “I’m surprising Vanessa in Seattle tonight. She’s there for one night before she gets back on Saturday.”
Two days, he couldn’t wait two more days to see her. I crushed the thought before it could take root and smiled. “Have fun.”
Ryder wanted to apologize, I could see it on his face, but he left. He knew that I wouldn’t hear of it. He was the boss, and I was the employee. I was glad I didn’t have to see him dressed up. But the gratitude that I didn’t have to see them together ran deeper.
Chapter 8
The next morning, we didn’t talk about his date, but from the goofy grin he wore at breakfast, I figured it went well. I didn’t wait for him. Cassidy wouldn’t wait for anyone. I pulled out a horse on my own, saddled on my own, eventually bridled, though I apologized twice for bumping the mare’s teeth, and set out to the arena on my own. Ryder never came out and it was for the best. I needed space to work on my cover. Amos had once taught me that full immersion was the key to a good cover.
To my surprise, my body adjusted to the regimen of my days and I had to wonder if my doctor had been right about horseback riding as a better exercise for people with MS. After a week of riding, I’d discovered muscles that I never knew needed toning. Whenever I wasn’t with the horses, I studied the case files.
Ryder had somehow procured them, and I didn’t ask how. The pictures were grisly, but as usual, I was unaffected. Tiny cuts littered the victims near major arterial veins. The coroner’s report mentioned that they’d been drained of at least two pints of blood post mortem. The stab wound to the gut had been what had killed them. Police felt as though they’d been attacked while hiking and left for dead, then some creature had drained them of the blood it needed. In the margin of reports some cheeky cop had drawn a sketch of Dracula in a mug shot.
I didn’t believe in vampires, but I did believe in evil. The cuts near the veins were too clean to have been created by an animal. The corpse had been mutilated to hide it, but someone, not something, had drained the three men of their blood. That thought chilled me.
I worked harder once I had the details of the case. There was something going on at the Rockin’ B, and I hated to leave a mystery unsolved. I told Ryder I planned to leave Monday. He objected, but I persisted. I knew enough. I was stronger, more confident, and more in control.
But that didn’t stop the nightmares.
Friday night they came back. It was the same as it had been for weeks, locked in the casket again. I coughed and sputtered in my dream, choking on the dark, loamy earth that filled my mouth despite my best efforts. The dirt turned to mud, thick, oozing mud that sucked me down against the pine slats of my death trap. I struggled to free myself, but it was impossible. My hand slapped against the wood, but nothing budged. As I tried to scream, the mud poured into my mouth and clogged my throat. The mud thinned and morphed, darkening to merlot, red blood. The open slats of the coffin allowed enough light to pour in that I could see it, but not enough that I could escape. My hands were stained scarlet as I clawed at the slats, screaming and calling for help. Where was Ryder? He’d saved me before, where was he? I twisted and looked over the rising deluge of blood and mud. There, locked in the casket with me was the decomposing face of St. Anthony. Flesh dripped from his bones as he reached out for me.
“No!” I screamed. “Ryder! Help! Ryder help me!”
Strong arms gripped me and shook me hard. I could hear my name in the dark, but I couldn’t focus. St. Anthony’s arms locked around me and I was powerless again. My hands trembled, my body shook as Ryder tried to rouse me from my nightmare.
“Lindy, it’s a dream. Wake up. You’re safe.”
My heart slowed as the grip of the nightmare dripped back into whatever swamp it had crawled out of.
“You were screaming,” he said. “I was in the office and I heard you call out.” The words were almost too painful to say, “You called my name.”
“I’m sorry. I have nightmares,” I told him.
“I remember.”
Ryder had pulled me from the casket and saved my life two months before. The memory of his arms around me, not only that night, but all the nights he’d rescued me, was almost excruciating to bear.
His features betrayed his concern. “Do you want me to stay?”
I wanted to cry out, “Yes. Never leave again,” but I wasn’t Lindy anymore, even if I did have her memories. I was Cassidy, and Cassidy didn’t buckle under pressure. Cassidy Billings was stronger than that.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
Disappointment clutched his features, as if he longed to be the one to comfort me back to sleep. “Goodnight then,” he said before he disappeared into the dark.
I sat on the mattress for a long time, clutching my knees and removing the mental stain of the nightmare. Unable to free myself, I gave up and crept from the room. I could see the office light two doors down. What was Ryder working on so late in his father’s old office?
I slipped without a sound down the stairs and out into the cold air. Cassidy wouldn’t bother with shoes. I savored the feeling of cold grass, smooth rocks and soft earth as I traveled to the barn. It was quiet, still, except for one head that popped out as he heard me. Ferguson’s nickers echoed against the still night, surely looking for a treat. I fetched a treat from the tack room and fed it to him, slobber sticking to my skin as he hungrily scooped it up. My palm traveled the arch of his long muscular neck and I slipped my arm around him in a tight embrace. His head tipped inward, as if to hug me back.
There in that barn I felt as though I understood Cassidy Billings a little better. People were faulty, prone to mistakes and judgment. Horses were authentic, incapable of guile and deceit. They couldn’t hurt you. It was all easier than dealing with human relationships. Ferguson didn’t ask for much in return, a treat or two, but his adoration and love were genuine. Cassidy might be a flirt, but she was far from unloved.
I talked to Ferguson about my issues for a long time, and he happily listened, especially since the treats kept coming. Eventually, I pulled the long bench i
n front of his stall. I stretched out, a horse blanket under my head, and fell to sleep with my new friend to keep watch.
♦ ♦ ♦
I heard Ferguson’s nicker first and almost opened my eyes, but then I heard Ryder’s voice, low and calm.
“Hey old boy, looks like you won the lucky draw last night.” The tone was wistful, maybe a little jealous. “I hope you took care of her. She’s pretty special.” Ferguson had no interest in his conversation. Morning had come and he begged for his breakfast. Ryder chuckled softly. “Yeah, she is her own kind of beautiful, isn’t she?”
I held perfectly still as he fed the horses and didn’t move until he’d been gone for a full five minutes. His words tore me up inside. It pulled Lindy free of where I’d trapped her and threatened to erase Cassidy and all the hard work I’d accomplished. I couldn’t wait for Monday. Because of the importance of the case; I’d leave the next day.
♦ ♦ ♦
I gleaned more information about the ranch from Ryder as we worked together later that day. He reminded me that the ranch was dry and lip balm and lotion were a must. That afternoon, when I didn’t find any in Cassidy’s boxes, I looked through the drawers of Isabelle’s old furniture. I didn’t find lip balm or lotion, but in the night stand I found a pearl handled knife. In the armoire between two sweaters, I found pepper spray, and in the middle drawer of her dresser I found a silver pendant that housed a two-inch silver blade. Ryder had long ago assured me that his father had never been violent toward him or his mother, but I highly doubted it. Either the maids were right and Ryder’s mother was crazy, or she’d lived in fear every day of her life.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
I came around the corner of the hallway to find Ryder near the front door. His shoulders slumped and I could see the downward pull of disappointment.
“No, I understand, it’s been a long week and you should rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He caught my eye and ducked into the next room. I turned up the staircase to my room. Despite the sheer size of the home, it felt too cramped. I pulled my bag open and started to set Cassidy’s carefully folded clothes inside.
The knock at the door belonged to Ryder. I knew it before I ever heard his voice.
“Lindy?”
I waited for the door to swing open before I said, “You know it would be easier if you called me Cassidy. Any correspondence from here on out will have to be with Cassidy Billings.” I paused, “How are you going to contact me? Do I get to keep my phone?”
His mouth was tight as I looked at him, little lines across the fullness that used to be mine. “That was Vanessa,” he said, as if I hadn’t figured it out, “she was going to come over and meet you tonight, but she’s tired. Will tomorrow morning be okay? Maybe an early lunch?”
I didn’t want to meet the girl who made him talk like a love smitten puppy dog. A part of me wanted to break her nose, but I didn’t want to meet her.
“Actually, I plan on leaving tomorrow morning, early if possible.”
There was a flash of hurt behind his dark eyes. “Why?”
I let my head tilt and asked, “Do you really need to ask me that?”
The week had been both ends of the spectrum for the two of us. Our past relationship hung in the halls like a ghost stuck in purgatory.
He didn’t answer. “So tonight is it for awhile?”
“Yes,” I said in my most confident Cassidy tone. “You’ve taught me enough. I can get by.”
“Do you want me to come with you? It can take a little time to get settled at the Rockin’ B. I could show you the ropes…” he let his voice trail off.
“Have you ever taken Cassidy?” I asked. One look at his face told me he hadn’t. “Then I should go alone. You know me, I’m great at lying. I’ll figure it out and fake it until I do.”
The sun faded beyond my panoramic views. The room’s shades of blue and silver clashed with the dying golden light. I hated myself for the look on his face, but what could I do?
“I was going to watch something later, a movie maybe. You could join me, if you’d like,” he offered.
I motioned to my bags. “I have a lot to pack and get ready. If I find a moment, I’ll come down.”
He started to speak, but the words proved pointless and he swallowed them hard. “I’ll have Louise bring dinner up,” he said as he walked out the door. There was nothing left to say, and we were both tired of feeling. It was time to move on.
♦ ♦ ♦
Packing wouldn’t have taken long, except I spent the majority of my time studying the crime scene photos. Something about the case nagged at me, maybe I was out of practice, but it felt ritualistic. That launched an entire search on my phone about bloodletting and blood drinking, and by the end I felt sick. I had to wonder if I was ready for the future. I had to remind myself that this was reconnaissance, a little poking around, nothing too dangerous.
Near eleven, I placed my bag by my door and slipped downstairs. I could see the television screen flickering from the theater room, and knowing Ryder wasn’t a night owl, I figured he’d fallen asleep. At first glance, I couldn’t see his head over the back of the couch and it confirmed my assumption. I strode into the room without a sound before I scanned the space for a remote to turn off the television. A small whimper gained my attention just as I spotted the remote.
Long legs stretched across Ryder’s lap, smooth and toned, perfect skin, and a skirt that hit above the knees. I followed the pathway up, a flowing blouse, two buttons undone at the collar, a long arm that matched the slender legs, and a dainty hand cupped around Ryder’s jaw line. I gasped and turned away from the kissing couple at the same time she saw me.
“Oh my gosh!” Vanessa yelled.
I pinned my hands like blinders over my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I thought Ryder fell asleep. I was turning off the movie.”
“Lindy!” Ryder’s voice burned into me.
With my hands over my eyes I couldn’t see the path out of the room. I stumbled a few times, pain coursing through my joints as I banged from one piece of furniture to the next like a pinball.
I heard Ryder’s voice as I left the room, “Let me up, I have to go talk to her.”
Vanessa’s voice was like fresh spun silk. “She’s fine. You heard her. Besides, I thought you missed me.”
I ran up the stairs two at a time, as if I could outrun the memory that had burned into my mind. It wasn’t Vanessa that hurt me, it was the look on Ryder’s face, the absolute calm, the pleasure, the way that he clutched her close as he kissed her. It was poison and a knife all at once. I had to get distance from him. I had to break the hold he had on my heart. But even with distance, I was doubtful that I could ever erase Ryder Billings from my life.
I wanted to drag my suitcase down the stairs and drive as far as I could, but Cassidy wouldn’t flee in the night like a child. She would hold her head high and exit like a queen. Cassidy was stronger than heartbreak.
♦ ♦ ♦
I set the steaming cup of coffee in front of me and stared at it. The car was packed, I was ready to go, but I didn’t want to leave Ryder without a goodbye. I owed him that at least.
The door shoved open, but it wasn’t Ryder who walked into the dining room. It was Vanessa, fresh and rested, clad in an oversized sweater that made her look skinnier than she was. Maybe it was the dancer’s legs that protruded from the hemline, clothed in tight leggings.
“Lindy, right?” she asked.
I wished people could be more forthright. Maybe say, “Hey, you’re the girl who walked in on my boyfriend and I last night, aren’t you?” I knew that was what she was thinking. Then I could respond, “Yup, and you are the girl who stole my only chance at happiness while I bled to death in a hospital.”
Forthright could have its merits.
Instead I said, “Yes, and you must be Vanessa.” I knew I should say something nice, but I’ve never been pleasant in the morning.
She set her cup
of black coffee in front of her and took a seat near me. “Look about last night—”
I interrupted her before she could embarrass us both. “My fault. Ryder said you weren’t coming, so when the movie was still on, I assumed he’d fallen asleep.”
Her smile was adorably sheepish and I hated her for it. “I changed my mind. I couldn’t wait to see him.” I knew she wanted to finish with, “you know how that is.” And I did. When I was released from the hospital that was how I felt, until Shane crushed me with the news.
“You stayed the night?” I asked as I pushed my mug a little closer. Along with Mrs. Beulmeyer, the bitter smell seemed to latch on to my negative feelings toward Vanessa as well.
“Yes, it was late and—” she stopped herself, “but I was in my own room. Ryder set one aside for me a couple weeks ago. There are so many and…” her voice trailed off as she saw the unimpressed expression on my face.
“I know how important you are to him,” Vanessa said as she watched my reaction. “I don’t understand it, and I don’t like it that much, but I think we should try to be friends.”
She was amicable, and gorgeous, like he’d said, and I was petty and jealous, but I was a good liar. At least I had that.
“Absolutely,” I said through a smile that was a little too wide.
She saw through it. “The elephant in the room is that I took him from you, but you weren’t there. You didn’t see how depressed he became when you vanished. I was here for him, and I don’t think I stole anything that wasn’t willing to come.”
Her eyes were slate gray, like the Washington sky in the month of January. She was more forthright than I’d given her credit for, and it made a tiny crack in my resolve to hate her forever.
“You’re better for him,” I said. I left the coffee and its horrible smell and pushed away from the table. “Promise me you’ll take care of him. He’s going through a lot right now. He needs support and I can’t be here anymore.”
Saddles & Sabotage Page 7