Chapter Seventeen
When Zach woke beside his wife the next morning, the room lay in darkness. Slowly Zach turned his head to look at her.
She lay on her back. He studied her profile. She was smiling. Her arm was thrown back on the pillow by her head, the pale skin giving off a pearly glow in the darkness; her fingers loose and slightly open. He couldn’t repress a smile. She looked relaxed. Content. She took up a good portion of the bed, too. Under the covers, her legs were wide apart. That amused him. She was such a tidy woman, and yet she slept in an abandoned sprawl.
He thought of the night before.
And wanted to reach for her, wanted to hear her welcoming sigh, feel her move toward him, twining her legs with his, eager and hungry for his touch.
But he didn’t.
He belonged to her now. He understood that. That was just the way he was. He’d held out as long as he could. But when he gave his body, he gave his heart.
A glance at the clock on the nightstand told him that it was near six. Beyond the heavy drawn curtains, dawn would be breaking. They should have been up and around an hour ago, but neither of them had given much thought to setting the alarm the night before.
He considered the morning chores he always took care of before breakfast and decided that Tim could do them.
Zach needed some time. He needed a long ride on Ladybird, out somewhere he wouldn’t see another soul. He needed time to accept what he understood now, to make his peace with it, and to clear his mind. Then he would feel up to handling the rest of the day. Up to dealing with Starr. Up to deciding whether to take Cash’s suggestion and put together a little range patrol of his own.
Up to facing his wife and telling her honestly that he loved her with all of his heart and he would do his best to get past the fact that she didn’t love him.
He thought of that place he’d taken her, in the spring, when he’d asked her to marry him. Now, the cottonwoods would have their leaves and the grass would be green. It was as good a destination as any—and fitting, in a way.
He slid from the bed with great care, sure he was going to wake her. But she only sighed and flung her other arm out, commandeering what was left of the bed.
Quiet as a thief, he crept around to where he’d dropped his clothes. Swiftly he scooped them up and pulled them on. Finally he tiptoed out, closing the door so carefully behind him that he managed to keep the latch from clicking when it caught.
He stopped in his room to put on a pair of socks. Then he went downstairs, where he found Jobeth at the table drinking hot chocolate and Edna bustling around the kitchen.
“We wondered if you would ever get up,” Jobeth groused.
Edna asked anxiously, “Is Tess all right? She never sleeps this late.”
He made his tone offhand. “She’s fine. A little tired. We forgot to set the alarm. I thought I’d let her catch a few extra winks.”
“Good idea.” Edna attacked a big bowl of pancake batter with a wooden spoon. “I’ll have this breakfast on in two shakes, just you watch.”
“Great.” He almost turned for the door where he’d left his muddy boots the afternoon before. They’d be dry now, and fine for a ride in any case. But then he decided he’d better say something to Edna about where he was headed. He’d get her all stirred up if he just rode off without a word. “Listen. I’m going out riding. For an hour or two.”
Jobeth jumped up. “I’ll come.”
He gave her a smile. “No, I need your help here.”
Her face fell when he said no, but brightened at the news that she could help him. “Anything. Sure.”
“I haven’t done my chores yet. I wonder if—”
“Yeah. I can do them. I can handle that.”
“You get Tim. He’ll help.”
“Sure. All right I will. I’ll get going right now—Dad.” Her face turned the cutest shade of pink.
He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Thanks.” She was out the door almost before he got the single word out of his mouth. He heard her whistle for Reggie when she got to the back step, and a glance out the kitchen window showed the child and the dog racing for the barn.
He could feel Edna’s gaze on him. He faced her. “When Tess wakes up, tell her not to worry. I’ll be a few hours, no more.”
“Where are you going?”
“Northwest. A little place I know along the creek, out near the Farley breaks.”
“Are you...all right, truly, Zach? You seem—”
“I’m fine. And I’ll be back soon.”
“You will catch those cattle thieves. And Starr will be okay.”
“I know you’re right—at least about Starr. And don’t worry.” He grinned at her. “Get those pancakes on. Lolly and Tim are probably starving.”
“Go on. Let me do my work.” She made a shooing motion, then turned back to the counter and her breakfast preparations.
Zach stepped out to the back porch, shucked off his moccasins, pulled on his boots and went out the way Jobeth had gone. Within ten minutes, as dawn began to bleed the night from the sky, he was mounted on Ladybird and headed toward the Big Horns that towered so jagged and uncompromising on the western horizon.
Tess woke smiling—until she opened her eyes and found herself alone.
She sat up. “Zach?”
And then she looked at the clock. She blinked. Looked again. “Six-thirty!” she exclaimed aloud, imagining everyone down in the kitchen, seated around an empty table, wondering if breakfast would ever be served. She threw back the covers and jumped from the bed.
She’d just emerged from a two-minute shower, yanked on some clothes and raked a comb through her hair when someone knocked at the bedroom door.
She blushed crimson and grinned like a fool as an image of Zach flashed through her mind—Zach carrying a breakfast tray, all loaded up with two eggs, bacon, toast, a steaming cup of coffee—and maybe even a bud vase containing a single red rose.
Where he’d get the rose was a mystery, of course, since she hadn’t got around to planting any yet. But maybe a wild rose. She’d seen a few, out near the creek. Now that would be something. Breakfast served to her on a tray, and a wild rose in a bud vase, brought to her by her husband, who ordered her back to bed where he would sit next to her adoringly as she ate.
Oh, she had to stop this foolishness. Any ranch wife who expected breakfast in bed either had a broken leg or an unclear understanding of her own responsibilities.
There was a second knock. Tess smoothed her hair and went to the door.
It was Starr, dressed in jeans and a clean T-shirt, her face scrubbed free of makeup, though the rhinestone still glittered in her nose. For some reason, Tess found the sight of the sparkly stone reassuring.
Starr said, “Edna told me not to bother you, but I thought I heard the shower going and I—”
Tess took her arm. “Come in.” She pulled the girl into the room and shut the door. “How are you?”
“Okay. I was looking for Dad, but Edna said he was gone.”
Tess waved a hand, dismissing that idea. “He’s probably out in the barn. I...think he might have gotten a late start on his morning chores.”
“Edna said he was having Jobeth and Tim handle his chores.”
Tess frowned. “Why?”
“Edna said he went riding, about twenty minutes ago. That he’d be back in a few hours.”
Tess made a low sound of disbelief. “A three-hour ride. By himself. That will take up half the morning.” In summer, mornings were prime working hours. A lot could be accomplished before the heat of the day made tough jobs all the harder.
Starr said, “Edna told me he just wanted a little time to himself.” She moved a few steps away, then turned back. “But I know what that means. It means he’s trying to decide what to do with me, after what happened yesterday.”
“Starr.” Tess put on a stern expression. “Stop this.”
Starr threw up her hands. “I feel like such a...nothing. All dirty and
awful inside, you know?”
Tess reached out, put her arm around the girl. “Listen. Yes, your dad is worried about you. But there’s more going on. Yesterday, he and Jobeth found more tire tracks.”
“The rustlers?”
“I’m afraid so. He’s worried about that—and a few other things, I suppose.”
“What things?”
“Not-your-problem things.”
Starr let out a groan, then grew earnest. “So then, what you’re saying is, if he’s really bugged, it’s not only about me?”
“Exactly.”
“And he didn’t talk to you about anything like, um, sending me away?”
“Starr. Listen. No one is sending you away. No one wants you to leave. Unless you go back with your mother—”
“Never. Please. Don’t make me go back there.”
“We won’t. Not if you don’t want to.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Will you believe me?”
“All right.”
“So. If your mother’s not an option—”
“She’s not.”
“—then you belong here with us. We will insist that you stay at least until you’re out of high school. And after that, you’ll always have a place here, though by then the choice to stay or not will be your own.”
Starr gnawed on her lower lip. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
The girl let out a long breath. “Well. Okay.”
Tess gave Starr’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Now. I suppose Edna is getting the breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
Just then, the bell started clanging outside.
Tess said, “Come on, then. Let’s go down.”
“I told that girl to let you sleep,” Edna said when Tess and Starr got to the kitchen.
Starr jumped to her own defense. “She was up already; I swear.”
“Well, all right then. It’s just as well, I suppose. The food’s on the table and ready to eat. Starr, pour the milk for you and Jobeth. And how about coffee, for the rest of us?”
“Sure.” Starr went to work:
Tess hovered in the arch from the hall, thinking about Zach, feeling a growing unease. “Edna, where did Zach say he was going?”
“Some place along the creek, Northwest, out by the Farley breaks.”
Tess knew the geography of the Rising Sun welt enough now to be reasonably certain that was the place he’d taken her the day he proposed.
She recalled the night before, a pleasant weakness washing through her at the sweet memory. And she thought of his words to her.
I lied, he had whispered, To myself, mostly. About what I wanted from you. I wanted....everything.
She had tried to tell him that he had everything. Twice, she had tried to tell him—three times, if she included that night out by the horse pasture when they’d talked about Starr. But he wouldn’t hear her.
He wanted her love. And he had her love.
But he wouldn’t let her say it.
Because he thought it was a lie.
Now he’d gone and run off to sit by the creek and feel sorry for himself. Worrying everyone. Because he wouldn’t see the truth when it bit him on the nose.
Lolly, Tim and Jobeth came trooping in.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Edna. “And you, too, Tess. Come on now, the food will get cold.”
Tess took her seat. The business of serving and passing dishes began. She helped herself to the food and passed the platters as they came by her.
But her mind remained on Zach.
Okay, she could understand why he didn’t believe her. Her love was no real prize, to be fair. She had thought she loved Josh once, as a foolish girl of seventeen. And then she’d been so sure she would love Cash forever.
And now, those other loves were as nothing. Like lightning bugs in a long-ago night—next to her love for Zach, which shone as bright as the sun.
Oh, she shouldn’t have let her body rule her last night. She should have pushed him away, ordered him to sit there in that maroon velvet chair, until she told him that he was the only one for her. Over and over, she should have told him. Until he finally got so sick of hearing it that he gave in and believed her.
But she hadn’t. She had wanted him too much. She’d been afraid that if she tried to force him to hear her out, he might turn and leave her, as he had done so many nights before.
So she had kept quiet. And he had stayed. They’d shared a beautiful night.
And now, come morning, he was out there by the creek somewhere.
Feeling sorry for himself.
It had to stop, that was all. It had to stop now. Today.
“Tess, you haven’t touched a bite.”
She stood. “Edna, can you handle things here?”
“What now?”
“I’m going for a ride.”
Halfway to his destination, Zach let himself through the gate into a pasture where he and his men had put several Hereford cows and their calves, along with a few registered Black Angus bulls. He closed the gate and then remounted, clicking his tongue at Ladybird, who started up a rise a hundred yards from the gate. Zach let the horse have her head as she carried him up to the crest. His eyes were on the clean morning sky, on the mountains and on the striated ridges of the breaks that became clearer up ahead as he topped the rise.
His mind was on Tess. Which was why he let himself get in plain sight of the sweep of land below him before he really registered what he saw there: a pickup and stock trailer, two men and a dog.
Chapter Eighteen
The men below had a set of portable panels in place and it looked like the dog had already bullied a couple of cows and their calves up the ramp.
Where the hell was that cell phone when he needed it?
Swearing under his breath, Zach sawed on the reins and turned back—hoping to hell that he hadn’t been spotted.
Once over the rise again, he slid off of Ladybird, pulling his rifle from its saddle scabbard, scanning the landscape for cover that would take him closer to the men below.
But he was too late. Just as his boots hit the ground, Beau Tisdale stood from behind a boulder ten feet to his left, a little below the crest of the rise. He held a .30-30 just like Zach’s own.
Unfortunately Zach’s rifle was pointing at the ground. Beau had his pointed straight at Zach.
“Throw it down,” Beau said.
Carefully, Zach knelt and set his rifle on the ground.
Keeping Zach firmly in his sights, Beau commanded, “Move back, away from the weapon.”
Zach did as he was told.
“Now go on.” Beau gestured with the rifle barrel. “That way, back over the rise.”
By then, Zach had got a good look at Beau. The younger man was a hell of a sight. His left eye was an ugly purple and swollen nearly shut. He had welts along his jaw, a mean-looking goose egg standing out from his right cheekbone and a lot more bruises than the one Zach had put on his chin. “What happened to you?”
“I ran into a door. Now, move.”
Cautiously Zach backed up the rise. Still pointing the rifle at him, Beau slid between him, Ladybird and the .30-30 he’d thrown down. Zach reached the crest. His hands in the air, he stood silhouetted against the sky. The men below must have seen him then. He heard them shout.
“Turn around,” Beau said. “And head on down.”
Zach was putting it together. It all seemed so clear now. “Your brothers are down there, right? And you’ve been the spy for them, relaying which stock is where—and which pastures to keep clear of because we’d be working them.”
Beau said nothing. He just kept that rifle trained on Zach’s chest and his finger on the trigger. A gun went off, down below. The shot went nowhere, but Zach ducked beneath the crest again anyway.
Beau swore under his breath. Keeping his rifle trained on Zach, he stalked up the rise. At the top, he shouted down, “I’ve got him! Stop shooting, dammit
!” He spoke to Zach. “Come on. Move.”
Zach held his ground and spoke gently. “They beat holy hell out of you, because you messed up their gravy train, didn’t they? Getting mixed up with my Starr like that, getting stupid. Getting caught.” Zach looked right in Beau’s eyes over the barrel of that .30-30. “I bet there are Montana plates on that pickup. And your brothers got themselves a deal with some sleazeball in a packing plant over the state line.”
“Move.”
“This is bad business, Beau. You know it. That’s why you didn’t stop me before I hit the top of that rise and saw what was going on down below. You didn’t stop me until I got off my horse. If I’d just ridden away, you would have let me go.”
“I told you to move.”
“Come on, Beau. You know it’s over now.” He took a step toward the younger man.
“Stop. Freeze.”
“Give me the gun, Beau.”
“Just don’t, Mr. Bravo. Don’t come closer. I’ll shoot.”
In the distance, over the rise, Zach could hear the other men yelling. They’d have started clawing their way up now, unable to drive the pickup and half-loaded stock trailer at such an angle, and having no horses to ride.
He had a minute or two, max. To talk Beau around to his side. Or to take him. Or to get himself shot.
Zach took another step. And another.
Beau said, “Damn your eyes.” And pulled the trigger.
The shot exploded into the morning stillness. When the sound faded off, Zach was still standing. “Missed me. On purpose, I’d say.”
Beau ejected the spent shell and chambered another. “Stop.”
And Zach pounced. Beau grunted at the impact. The rifle exploded a second time, the sound so loud, it might have been the end of the world. Zach felt the bullet sizzle along his side.
Ignoring the stinging pain over his ribs, he concentrated on dealing with Beau, on getting both hands on the weapon and trying to wrestle it free. They rolled several yards with the rifle between them, off the crest and down the side Zach had come up. They’d both lost their hats by then. They rolled right over one of them.
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