FORTY-NINE
DANIEL THREW THE FIFTY-POUND bag of horse feed onto the truck and used his shirt sleeve to wipe off the sweat running into his eyes. He stood for a moment and took a deep breath—paying special attention to the odor radiating from the pallet of stacked feed behind him. He walked back through the double doors connecting the storage room to the store section of the building and nodded at Walt, who was helping a customer behind the counter.
“Are you sure this feed’s fresh, Walt? It smells off.”
“I just got it in this morning, Daniel. They’ve added some kind of new yeast culture to help with digestion. That might be what you smell. It’s not much different than before as far as performance goes.”
“Okay . . . just checking. Thanks.”
“You got it. I’ll help you load that feed as soon as I get done here.”
“Don’t worry about it, Walt. I got it covered.”
“Thanks, man.”
Daniel walked back outside and looked at his watch. Veronica wouldn’t be done with her hair appointment for a couple of hours. He could pick up his orders in town and have time to spare. Veronica mentioned having his scraggly hair trimmed after meeting the preacher that morning, so a trip to the barber shop wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
He pulled a bag of feed from the pallet and started loading his pickup until the truck body was full. Then he went back in the building to sign the ticket. Walt was busy with another customer, so Daniel walked around the store, checking off the list in his head of things he needed to purchase in town. He scrutinized a couple of halters for young colts, swung them over his shoulder, and pulled a bottle of penicillin out of the medicinal refrigerator.
As he made his way to the back side of the store, he glanced out the window overlooking Main Street and noticed Marti walking up the sidewalk in front of the Carson City Café. She was probably meeting Skyler and Cynthia. The tingling sensation returned, and unconsciously he rubbed the back of his neck. Marti had a way about her that made him feel strange.
He watched her walking along, a serious expression on her face until she saw someone coming in her direction. Daniel’s gaze shifted to see who deserved the beaming smile that popped up on her face. When he saw a tall man in a blue sports jacket wave and return her smile, he wasn’t prepared for the resentment building inside his chest. Who was this man? And why was Marti so happy to see the guy? Although the man’s face looked familiar, he couldn’t remember anything about the stranger except a feeling of envy. Why did he remember the animosity but not the man?
The man held out his hand, but Marti pushed aside his handshake and gave him a hug instead. A flame started in the pit of Daniel’s stomach and grew into a roaring blaze. Marti had lied to him when she said she was meeting friends in town. Instead, she was meeting a friend. Maybe a special friend.
Why should he care who she met . . . who she knew . . . who she hugged? That was her business, wasn’t it?
A slow calming breath escaped between his lips but was replaced with a sigh of gloom when he saw them walk into the restaurant together.
Daniel grabbed one of the hoof picks from the display in front of him and marched to the front desk. He plopped everything on the counter and propped his arms on the countertop—rigid and straight. He tapped his fingers impatiently and waited for Walt to ring up his purchases.
Walt gave him a funny look. “You okay, Daniel?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
His clipped response had Walt raising his eyebrows.
The bell over the door rang. Daniel and Walt turned to see a tall man with white hair ambling toward the counter.
Walt nodded to the man and said, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Mr. Welsh,” and then turned back to Daniel. “How many bags of feed did you get, Daniel?”
“Thirty.”
“Okay, let’s see . . . you have thirty bags of Rouster Performance Horse Feed, a bottle of Procaine Penicillin G, two rope halters, and one hoof pick. Would there be anything else?”
“No. That’s all. Oh wait. I need to order a load of Timothy hay, but make sure you get it from Lance Cobb over in Cossio County. He knows I like the second cutting.”
The other customer in the store approached Daniel.
“Daniel, how’re you doing?”
Daniel looked at him—confusion creased his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Jordan Welsh. Vinny’s father.”
“Oh, Mr. Welsh. I’m sorry. I have a case of amnesia and can’t remember most of my old friends. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, sir.”
“That’s okay, Daniel. I know about your accident. I heard what you said about the Timothy hay and wondered why it’s important to get the second cutting.”
“Well, sir, the first cutting always has more weeds mixed in with the hay. Second cutting’s usually the best quality and the most pure.”
“Don’t you feed alfalfa hay to your horses?”
“We feed alfalfa sometimes. It has its place, but our nutritionist doesn’t recommend it all the time. Timothy hay has the right balance of nutrition and fiber. Plus the protein and calcium levels are lower.”
“I see.”
“Here ya go, Daniel.” Walt handed him the sales ticket.
Daniel took the paper and nodded to both men, then walked toward the door, consumed once again with thoughts of Marti. He climbed into the truck cab and sat motionless behind the wheel. Straightening his back, he thought about what he saw. Was there a connection between Marti and the guy he saw, and why didn’t she mention knowing someone in Carson?
He wished he could remember if he knew the man. It was possible Marti knew someone from this area before she came to visit. He needed to get a grip. It was really none of his business anyway.
If it wasn’t any of his business, then why did seeing her hug this stranger ruin his whole day?
FIFTY
“WHAT?” MARTI’S HIGH-PITCHED QUESTION caught the attention of the other restaurant patrons. She blushed and lowered her voice. “Who did you say the fundraiser is for?”
Cynthia’s eyes sparkled. “The Tots and Teens Orphanage in Bishop, Tennessee. It’s the only children’s home in that area, and the owners are great. They love those kids like they were their own.”
Marti sank back into her chair. “I don’t believe it! I worked with two of the board members of that orphanage, Alana and Jaydn Holbrook. They’re starting a new homeless shelter in Landeville, just a few miles from Bishop, and they hired me to paint a mural on the wall for the grand opening. As a matter of fact, I know the orphanage owners too. Shirley and Darrell Hamlin.”
Skyler let out a laugh. “You’re kidding! Well, now you definitely have to paint with us in the fundraiser. You have an excellent reason to participate if Shirley and Darrell are friends. You wouldn’t want to let the orphanage down, would you?” She smiled a gotcha smile.
Marti bit her lip. “Alana told me they had supporters all over, but I had no idea they had connections as far west as Carson, Texas. This is uncanny.” She laid her napkin on the table beside her plate. “I guess you can count me in. I love Alana and Jaydn too much not to help.”
Cynthia and Skyler squealed and clapped their hands.
“Ooooh, I just know this is going to be the greatest year ever. With your talent on our side, it has to be a success! I can’t believe you didn’t know you were an artist when you lived here before. We could have had so much fun.” Skyler said.
Cynthia nodded. “Yeah, how crazy is that? I looked up some of your paintings on the Internet, Marti. They’re great.”
Skyler agreed. “I know. Your work is amazing. To think we have a famous celebrity in our midst.”
“Oh, come on, you two. That’s enough.” Marti’s face felt hot.
“So what gives with you and Daniel?” Cynthia leaned forward and played with the napkin on the table, her eyes averted—as if she wasn’t happy about prying but couldn’t
help herself.
“Yeah, Marti, I wondered why you never came back after the accident. I heard you just left with no explanation.”
Marti’s cheeks burned.
Cynthia stared at the uncomfortable look on Marti’s face and gave Skyler a frown. Then she leaned over and covered Marti’s hands with hers. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to pry.”
“No. It’s okay. You were the best friends I had when I lived here, and I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I left. I was just so devastated . . . after the baby . . . and everything. I don’t want to go into it all, but Daniel and I . . . we just . . .” Tears filled her eyes, and Marti struggled to keep them from rolling down her cheeks.
Skyler rubbed Marti’s arm. “It’s okay, hon. We understand. Let’s not talk about it now. Maybe sometime later, okay?”
Marti nodded. “Anyway, Gerald asked me to come and paint a portrait of Daniel to hang with the other portraits in the study. He was hoping it might help jump-start Daniel’s memory.”
“That’s neat about the portrait, but I bet it’s hard, isn’t it?”
Marti didn’t answer, but her gaze shifted to stare unseeing out the window.
“Hey, how about we go down and stick our feet in the creek?” Cynthia jumped up and looked out the window at the river below. “I see lots of cute guys down there, Skyler. That should pique your interest.”
Skyler stood up and hooked her purse over her arm. “Ooooh, that sounds like fun, but, unfortunately . . . I have to get back to work. Dr. Watson gets his dander up when I take too long for lunch.”
“I thought you worked at the clinic.”
“That’s only part-time. Working for Dr. Watson pays my bills, and working at the clinic feeds my addiction . . . me.”
They all laughed.
Cynthia stood up as well. “Yeah, she spends all the clinic salary on jewelry. Wait up, Skyler. I’ll go with you.” She smiled down at Marti. “Dr. Watson’s a great boss, but we do have to stay on our toes. Thanks, Marti, for meeting us for lunch. We loved seeing you again, and we’re so glad you’re on board with the fundraiser.”
Marti smiled up at her friends. “Yeah, me too. I’ll fill out the application and drop it off at your office before I leave town.”
“Would you like us to drop you somewhere?”
“No, I have my car outside, and I’m meeting someone in about ten minutes. You two go on back to work.”
Cynthia leaned forward and hugged Marti. “Oh, do you still have that cool Lexus Daniel bought you when you got married?”
“No, unfortunately, I was too fond of eating. I had to trade it in for a smaller car.”
They all laughed.
“We sure missed you when you left, but it’s so good to see you again, my friend. We felt lost without you.” Cynthia’s voice was soft and sincere.
Skyler nodded and gave Marti a hug.
Marti could feel her throat closing with emotion, so she just smiled.
After Cynthia and Skyler left the room, Marti leaned back in her chair. Tears tickled the edge of her eyes when she thought about how many friendships she had lost. Now, for some reason God had brought the two areas of her life together for a purpose. Even though she wanted to believe God abandoned her, she knew better. The Bible said plainly that all things work together for good for them that love the Lord. God had allowed all the things in her life. She just had to trust that God knew what He was doing.
After leaving a tip for the waitress, she decided to brave the heat once more and wait in the car for Clara. She thanked the hostess for a delicious lunch and walked out into the sunshine and oppressive heat.
Across the street, she saw Clara unlock the door of her car and get into the driver’s seat. Marti waved, but Clara was fitting the key in the ignition and didn’t see her. Marti stood beside the blue plastered wall of the restaurant and waited for the traffic to clear before she could cross the street.
She watched the last car roll past her when a horrible explosion blasted her hearing. The air seemed to vibrate around her, charged with current. She instinctively put her hands over her ears and turned away from the blast. The impact of the explosion pushed her backward, and she fell against the building behind her. When she finally raised her head and looked toward the whooshing sound, she was horrified to see her car completely engulfed in flames. It took a few seconds for the sight to penetrate her understanding. Her car had exploded!
“Clara! Oh no!” She heard herself cry the words. She rushed toward her car, yelling as she ran. “Help! Someone help her! She’s in the car.” A few feet from the car, Marti had to pull up short when heat from the flames burned her face. The entire car was swallowed in flames, and she couldn’t see anything but a wall of orange and yellow rising high into the sky. A grim realization hit her in the chest. It was too late.
Marti’s hands covered her eyes. Knowing Clara was inside that towering inferno shocked her. If she left the restaurant a few minutes earlier, she would have been in the car as well.
No. Not just in the car, but driving.
Suddenly, her chest pounded with a heartbeat so fast it hurt. Surely only a bomb could have caused such a violent explosion. A cold chill ran through her in spite of the intense heat. Someone had planted a bomb in her car to explode when she cranked the engine. That bomb was meant for her. When the realization hit her, she wrapped her arms around her waist and sobbed.
Zach wasn’t her stalker. The note he left was about someone else. Her stalker was still out there, and Clara had died in an explosion meant for her.
Marti’s knees buckled, and she sank onto the curb.
People were running all around her. She heard someone call, “Here comes the fire truck!”
Sirens sounded in the distance, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
She felt someone touch her on the shoulder.
“Marti? Are you all right?”
She looked up into Daniel’s face.
“Daniel, Clara . . . she was . . . it was supposed to be me . . .”
“Calm down, Marti. You’re not making any sense.” Daniel sat down beside her.
“Clara was in my car,” she cried in anguish.
“Clara? Clara who?”
Marti didn’t answer but turned to him and fell against him in utter horror. She felt Daniel’s arms circle her and pull her close. His hands rubbed her back, trying to give her comfort, and his embrace felt like a warm blanket on a winter’s day. She had the strange sensation of being home, surrounded by things familiar and comforting.
A fire engine roared toward them and came to a jolting stop in front of the car, blocking the street. Firemen ran to pull hoses from the back of the truck out into the street. A man, obviously the fire chief, yelled orders at the men hooking up the hose to a fire hydrant in front of the restaurant. The hose finally bulged, and water sprayed onto the towering inferno. The hot metal hissed when the water hit, and Marti’s heart felt every sizzle.
A police car pulled up and blocked the traffic flow down the street. Two policemen stepped out of the car and began pushing the crowd farther away from the fire. One officer came over to Marti and Daniel and waved them back.
“Step back, folks. Let’s give the firemen room.”
Marti raised her head and babbled, “But that’s my car.”
The policeman lifted an eyebrow and came closer. “Did you say that’s your car, ma’am?”
Marti nodded. “And . . . a woman was inside.”
The policeman jumped to attention. “There was someone in the car?”
When she nodded, he ran to tell the firemen fighting the flames. When they nodded their understanding, the officer returned to her. “Ma’am, I’m Daren Fisher from the Carson City Police Department. Could you answer some questions now?”
Marti sniffed and nodded.
Officer Fisher pulled out a black notebook and a pen. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Marti Rushing.”
“Any relation to Daniel he
re?”
Marti looked at Daniel and shook her head. “Uh . . . no.”
“She’s staying at our house, Daren—painting an oil portrait.”
“Oh. Well, could you tell me who was in the car?”
Marti rubbed the tears from her eyes with a tissue and answered. “A nurse from the clinic. Her name was Clara, but I can’t remember her last name.”
“Watting,” Daniel supplied. “Her last name was Watting.”
The officer wrote down the name in his black book and asked, “Do you know what made it explode? Was the motor hot or smoking when you cut it off?”
Marti grasped at the idea. Maybe it wasn’t a bomb, but it exploded too fast to be anything else. “I don’t think so.”
The policeman left her and reprimanded a couple of boys who were climbing on the fire truck. He spoke to a couple of the eye-witnesses standing around the perimeter and wrote down their answers in the book.
Daniel took Marti’s elbow and pulled her back to the curb on the opposite side of the street. “Come back, Marti. Let’s move back from the heat.”
She let him lead her back to the doors of the café.
Marti looked into his eyes for the first time. The compassion she saw there made her stomach flutter. He helped her sit on the steps of the restaurant and wrapped his arm around her for support.
Officer Fisher came back to Marti and sat down beside her.
“The eye-witnesses confirmed there was a lady sitting in the car when it exploded. They also say it exploded when she turned the key in the ignition. Can you tell me about this lady, Clara Watting, and why she was in your car?”
“She was the head nurse at the Carson Clinic. I picked her up on the road. She had car trouble, and I was taking her back to her car at the garage. I gave her a key so she could run the air until I was done with my lunch meeting. But, I didn’t know—” She shook her head and looked up at the officer. “Zach wasn’t the one. I thought all this was over, but Zach wasn’t the one.”
“What do you mean, Marti? What does Zach have to do with anything?” Daniel’s voice sounded confused.
“That note he wrote before he died. I thought the woman he mentioned was me . . . that it was me he was stalking . . . ever since—” Suddenly, she realized what she was about to say. She couldn’t tell Daniel about leaving here three years ago. “Someone has been stalking me . . . for several years. When Zach mentioned a woman in his note—that she didn’t deserve it—I thought he was talking about me. I thought he was my stalker, but now . . .”
A Memory Worth Dying For Page 21