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Montana Midwife

Page 6

by Cassie Miles


  “The derivation of Tabitha is gazelle,” she said. “And Aiden is fire.”

  Why did she know the meaning of his name? There was something going on here that he didn’t understand. “Fire, huh?”

  “It suits you. You’re a fiery type.”

  “And you’re fast.”

  “On my feet, I’m fast. In other ways, you can call me molasses.” She pointed through the window. “There’s the deputy’s car with the lights flashing.”

  The truck was nowhere in sight, and they were almost to the county road. Aiden concentrated on piloting the chopper. They were flying low at high speed. For anyone else, this would have been a dangerous move. At night, the low-hanging power lines and high branches of trees were nearly invisible. But this was his territory. He knew when to zig and when to zag. “I think I’ll go left toward Henley.”

  “Good plan,” she said. “If we don’t see them by the time we get to town, we can double back.”

  He aimed the searchlight on the road and surged forward. A mile down the road to Henley, he spotted the truck.

  “There they are,” Tab said. “Now what do we do?”

  “If I were alone, I’d drop down and buzz the truck until they drove off the road. But I don’t want to draw their fire with you sitting in the copilot’s seat.”

  “Well, then. It’s a good thing I came along.”

  Not if the truck got away while he was playing it safe. He didn’t want these guys to get all the way into town where they could crawl into a hole and hide. “We’re going to set up an ambush.”

  His plan was to get ahead of the truck and set the chopper down in the middle of the road. The truck would have to hit the brakes. When they stopped, he’d shoot out their tires. There wasn’t time to explain all that to Tab.

  “When I touch down,” he said, “you jump out and run. Take cover. Understand?”

  “Got it.”

  He zoomed ahead and set the chopper down in the middle of the road. In the distance, he could see the headlights of the truck approaching. Reaching behind his seat, he grabbed his rifle.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Tab throw off her seat belt and climb out. She hit the ground running, just like he’d told her. There wasn’t a lot of cover nearby, but she found a couple of granite rocks and ducked behind them. He followed her.

  Beside her, he went up on one knee and took aim.

  The truck came to a stop.

  Before Aiden could fire, both doors on the cab swung open and a couple of guys jumped out. Their hands were raised over their heads.

  “Don’t shoot.” Both men were yelling. “We surrender. Don’t shoot.”

  Aiden’s trigger finger itched. He would have liked to blast the tires and put a couple of holes in the doors of the truck just to teach these guys a lesson. But he didn’t want to give them a reason to press charges against him for destroying their property.

  “Tab, you stay put.” He stood with his rifle still held at the ready. “This might be a trap.”

  “Could be somebody else in the back of the truck,” she said. “Be careful.”

  Walking toward them, he yelled, “On your knees. Hands locked behind your head.”

  Quickly, they followed his order. As he approached, he could see the fear in their eyes. They were young, not much older than Misty. One of them wore a beat-up Denver Broncos cap and an oversize jersey with the number fifteen celebrating Tebow, the former quarterback who pulled off a couple of miracle wins. The other appeared to be part Crow.

  After he checked the bed of the truck and was satisfied that nobody else was hiding amid the junk that had accumulated there, he took a position in front of the young men. Aiden didn’t lower his rifle.

  “Where are your guns?” he demanded.

  “In the truck,” said the Bronco fan. “We didn’t mean any harm. We fired into the air to get your attention.”

  “Nobody threatens my home.” Aiden was dead serious. “If you have a problem, you come to me. Like a man.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Give me your names.”

  “I’m Woody Silas.” He wore the Bronco cap. “And this here is Chuck Longbeak.”

  Aiden heard Tab come up behind him. “Longbeak,” she said. “I know your sister.”

  His dark eyes pleaded. “You can’t tell my sister. She’ll tell my mom.”

  “Your mom will know,” Tab said. “You boys are about to get yourselves arrested. The deputies are already on their way.”

  “We didn’t do nothing wrong,” Woody said. He was almost crying. If this was an act, it was a good one. “We just flung something in your driveway and fired into the air.”

  “You broke plenty of laws,” Aiden said. “You fled a police officer. You were speeding. You did malicious mischief. If I really pushed, that mischief charge might get upgraded to assault with a deadly weapon.”

  “Nobody got hurt,” Woody yelped.

  “What did you throw into my driveway?”

  The two young men exchanged a nervous glance. This time it was Chuck Longbeak who did the talking. “We wrapped up a note inside a hunting magazine so it would have some heft. Woody threw it. He’s got a good arm. He was a quarterback.”

  “What did the note say?” Tab asked.

  Chuck buttoned his lip. He was acting like this was nothing but a harmless prank, and Aiden was running short on patience. “Answer the lady.”

  “David Welling was my friend,” Chuck said. “He got me a job with his uncle at the gas station. I liked David. He shouldn’t be dead.”

  “His death,” Tab said, “saddens us all. David should have had many more years.”

  Chuck turned his head to glare at Aiden. “It’s your sister’s fault. He loved her. And she shot him.”

  He spoke with the kind of assurance that came from knowing what had happened, almost as though he’d been there at the time of the shooting. “How do you know? Were you there?”

  “No.” Chuck shook his head. They both looked guilty as hell. Something else was going on with them.

  “But you know the area. You know where David got shot.” Aiden paused. “I’m going to ask you again. Think hard and tell me the truth. Were you there?”

  “Not this time.”

  His answer implied that there had been other times. “It wasn’t sheer dumb luck that David ended up in a place where my sister was. He must have been following her.”

  Woody spoke up, “We don’t know nothing about that.”

  “I think you do,” Aiden pressed. “I think you were all spying on Misty, keeping an eye on her. How many times did you drive by the ranch, looking for her?”

  “Maybe once or twice,” Chuck admitted.

  “Shut up,” Woody growled. “We don’t have to tell him that. He’s not a cop.”

  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, kid. I’m a man with a gun. That means I ask the questions and you give the answers.”

  Chuck lifted his chin. “I only know one thing for sure. David loved Misty, and she broke his heart.”

  “What did the note say?”

  Chuck mumbled, “It’s your fault, Misty. You killed him. His death is on your hands.”

  Aiden heard the deputy’s sirens getting closer. He’d be glad to turn these two over to the law, not that he thought any of the charges would stick. Woody and Chuck represented the tip of the iceberg. Lots of townspeople would be quick to blame Misty, whether or not she was guilty.

  Chapter Seven

  From the copilot seat, Tab looked down at the road. The chopper hovered high enough that the wind from the rotors didn’t churn up the dirt and dead leaves on the ground. She watched the deputies slap the cuffs on Chuck and Woody. While one of them kept an eye on the boys, the other gathered the guns from Woody’s truck, moved their vehicle to the side of the road and slapped a police sticker on the door.

  Beside her, Aiden said nothing. She had the impression that he was annoyed with her but didn’t know why. The more she got to know
him, the harder he was to understand. Life had been a lot simpler when she’d simply admired him from afar. Ten years ago, she’d thought he was perfect. Now? Not so much.

  Reality had no place in idealized love. What did the poets call it? Unrequited love—a gut-churning passion, an obsession that was totally one-sided, like the feelings David must have had for Misty. From what Tab knew, poor David Welling didn’t really know the object of his affection. He hadn’t spent enough time with Misty to be irritated by her giggle or to see her when she didn’t look her best.

  People did crazy things in the throes of unrequited love. When Tab had her teenage crush, she’d pined away her entire summer at the Gabriel ranch without dating, not that there had been a lot of guys asking. Only two, and she had turned both down. She’d been saving her heart for the man of her dreams, the twenty-one-year-old Aiden who barely knew she existed in spite of the way she continually arranged to accidentally on purpose run into him. When he mentioned that green was his favorite color, she’d worn her one green T-shirt for three days in a row. Plus green eyeshadow. And green ribbons in her hair. Crazy.

  What kinds of things had David done?

  The possibilities made her shudder.

  One thing seemed certain. His unrequited love for Misty made his murder less random. He was watching her. The fact that he’d turned up in the middle of nowhere to help Misty when the Jeep got stuck wasn’t a coincidence.

  Tab glanced at Aiden and spoke into the microphone on her headset. “Do you think David was following Misty and Clinton?”

  “I do,” he said tersely.

  “Because he was in love.”

  “Or stalking her.”

  Below, she saw the deputies load the two lawbreakers into the back of their car and drive toward Henley. The boys would spend the night in the local jail, which would give them time to think. Would they change their minds about Misty? She doubted it.

  As the chopper swept into motion, she spoke again, hoping to melt the glacier that had formed between her and Aiden. “I guess the whole town knows about David’s murder.”

  “And they’ve already decided that Misty is guilty.”

  “A hasty conclusion.”

  “People are like that. They want answers.”

  “But there hasn’t been an investigation. The sheriff hasn’t even taken my statement, and I’m the closest thing he has to an eye witness.”

  “There’s evidence,” he reminded her. “Unfortunate evidence. Ballistics will show that Misty’s rifle fired the shot that killed David. Her fingerprints are on the gun, and she admitted firing it. That might be all the proof the sheriff needs to arrest her.”

  That was the most talking he’d done since she got into the chopper with him. “Evidence might be fact. But it isn’t necessarily the truth.”

  “My sister isn’t a killer.”

  “I know.” He had absolutely no call to make that statement; she hadn’t once accused Misty. Still, she supposed he was under stress and she ought to cut him some slack. “Don’t worry. We’ll find the truth. Even if we have to do our own investigation, we’ll find the killer.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Tab. We aren’t going to run around playing detective.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was rejecting the idea of investigating or rejecting her personally. “You don’t seem too pleased with the way Sheriff Fielding is handling things.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And I’m not suggesting that we get in the sheriff’s way. But I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t do some poking around on our own.”

  “I like you.” He turned his head to look directly at her. “I’d like to get to know you better…but not like this. Protecting my family isn’t your problem.”

  He was beginning to tick her off. “Because you don’t think I can handle it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You know, Aiden, you’re the one who called me and asked me to come to the ranch.”

  “Because Misty needed you.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “Correct.”

  Waves of arrogance radiated from him. “I just want to help. Don’t be so quick to turn your back.”

  Contradictory feelings braided into a knot that tightened in her belly. She ought to be elated because he wanted to spend time with her, but he was pushing her away at the same time.

  “You’re angry,” he said.

  “Confused.”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger. There’s a serial killer out there.”

  “Right,” she said. “And I want to help catch him. You don’t always have to do everything by yourself.”

  Though he nodded, she didn’t really think he got her point. Why couldn’t he understand? Nobody was meant to go it alone, not even a man like Aiden who had taken on big responsibilities when his father died. There was no shame in accepting help.

  “I’m going to make you smile again,” he said. “Get ready.”

  “You’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Maybe.”

  He slowed the forward speed until they were standing still, poised on a current of air. Aiden adjusted the gears, and the chopper made a rapid ascent as though they were riding an invisible elevator. The land below them faded away. Higher and higher, they lifted into the night sky, and then they stopped.

  With the flick of a couple of switches, he turned off the running lights and the lights in the cockpit. Suspended in the velvet darkness, she experienced a strange, almost magical sensation. The stars closed around her and she became part of the sky. She could feel the altitude. The only reminder of reality was the synchronized rumble of the rotors. Looking down, she saw dots of light from ranch houses and a warmer glow from the streets of Henley, miles from where they were.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  Though she hadn’t been aware of holding her breath, she exhaled in a whoosh. “I feel like the wind, a feather on the wind.”

  “You’re not a helicopter virgin anymore.”

  “I understand why you love flying. It’s so free.”

  “Up here, I can leave the worries behind. But only for a couple of minutes.” He turned on the lights and set a course for home. “Usually when I’m up in the chopper, I’m on my way to a disaster. A rescue. A search. A medical emergency.”

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to come down to earth. Her memory bank made a permanent record of these magical moments with Aiden. “Thank you.”

  “Am I forgiven?”

  “Not entirely,” she said, “but mostly. And do you forgive me for coming with you without permission?”

  “You bet,” he said. “I’m wondering if you told anybody else your plan before you took off running after me.”

  “I told Grandma, and she was pleased.” Come to think of it, her reaction was kind of odd. “She said something about how I was meant to be with you, whatever that means.”

  To her surprise, he chuckled. “This might be a good time to warn you about your grandma and my mom. I was with them in the kitchen while the sheriff was talking to you and Misty. And the two of them were plotting.”

  “About what?”

  “Matchmaking,” he said.

  “Between you and me?” Though she’d been making that same match ever since she saw him, Tab didn’t like being manipulated. “Why do you think so?”

  “They kept winking and nudging each other. Then my mom announced that you didn’t have a boyfriend and wasn’t that convenient because I don’t have a girlfriend, either.”

  “Subtle,” Tab muttered.

  “When I said I liked the sweet potato pie, your grandma told me that you made it.”

  “Why would she say that?”

  “To let me know that you’re a great cook.”

  Tab groaned. Of course, her grandma would push the anatomically incorrect old wives’ tale about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. “Does that turn you on? Thinking that I know my way around a kit
chen?”

  “Do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m fully capable of making a pie, but I didn’t make that one. There wasn’t time after I got back to Grandma’s, took care of Shua and drove to your ranch.”

  “Busy day.”

  Running through the short list of what she’d done in one day made her aware of the time. Her wristwatch showed it was after ten o’clock. She should have been tired, but she wasn’t. A restless energy coursed through her. No doubt, she was still feeling the effect of the adrenaline rush that came from flying and from being this close to Aiden.

  As they approached the ranch, he turned on the searchlight and scanned the landing area behind the barn. Looking down on his cabin, she noticed a deck that was half the size of the house, a good place for a barbecue. “When did you build the cabin?”

  “A couple of summers ago. I wanted to put some space between me and the main house. My mom and Blake—he’s the foreman—are handling most of the ranch business. If I’m not around, they don’t come running to me.”

  Apparently, he needed to physically move to avoid taking over. “And the separate cabin gives you some privacy.”

  “Mom and Blake are the ones who need space of their own. They still sleep in separate bedrooms, but they’ve been a couple for quite a while.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Hell, no. I want my mom to be happy. Her life didn’t end when my father died. It took her a long time to crawl out of her depression. When she did, Blake was there, waiting to give her a hand.”

  The chopper touched down, and the rotors stilled. Without that noise, the night seemed uncomfortably quiet. Tab wasn’t sure where to go from here. “It’s late,” she said.

  “You and your grandma should stay at the ranch tonight. We’ve got plenty of room.”

  Suspiciously, she asked, “Did you think of that invitation all by yourself? Or is it something your mom and my grandma suggested?”

  “Both,” he said. “About the matchmaking…”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m not opposed.”

  When she emerged from the chopper and set her feet on hard ground, her legs were shaky. After flying, the earth felt too solid and heavy. She circled the tail and stood beside Aiden. “When you say you aren’t opposed, I’m not sure what that means. Are you asking me on a date?”

 

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