by Naomi Niles
"What the hell is all the noise out here?" William stepped out onto the porch. Seeing me tangled in the garden hose, he asked angrily, "Are you drunk?"
"The barn's on fire. Get Travis out here, and tell me Mama to call 911," I called out.
"Crap!" He ran back into the house, leaving the front door wide open, and I could hear shouting inside. I managed to untangle the garden hose and ran with it to the barn. The roof was ablaze with flames. I pointed the nozzle at it and turned the spray of water full stream of the fire. It was as useless as spitting on it.
My brother Travis came running from the house and took the hose from me. He was a trained firefighter and had been working for the Riverbend volunteer fire department since he was eighteen. I trusted his eight years of experience and let him have it. The flames from the fire were blistering hot and the wave of heat was making my skin hurt and my eyes burn.
"Get back," Travis shouted, and I gladly obliged. "The barn is gone. There's no saving it, but the fire could spread to other structures. Use the hose to wet down the stable and your office."
He thrust the hose at me. I took it with trembling hands, drenching the walls of the stable as best I could while sparks from the burning barn rained down around me.
William, Tom, and Brett were working together as a team to lead the terrified horses out of the stable. Their whinnies sounded liked screams, and it took all of my brothers’ strength to keep the strong animals from bolting out of their grip and running wild with fear.
Mama came out onto the porch and shouted over the noise. "I've called the fire department. They're on their way."
It felt like forever before we heard the sound of engine alarms blaring from the highway. Tears of relief sprang to my red eyes as three fire trucks, two tenders, and an ambulance pulled in front of the house with their lights flashing. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.
Travis had been doing his best to clear away debris from around the stable to keep the fire from spreading, but when he saw his comrades, he dropped his axe and ran to greet them.
I'd never seen my little brother in action and my heart swelled with pride as I watched him work with the crew to battle the fire. They hooked up hoses to the tender trucks and aimed them at the burning barn, now completely engulfed in searing flames.
No longer needed, I staggered back from the scene to collaps on the steps of the porch. I'd done what I could, and the rest was up to them.
"Are you all right?" A medic from the ambulance came up to me.
"I'm okay. It's just so hot, I felt a little faint for a moment," I confessed.
"You've got burns on your face and hands from standing too close to the fire. Let me treat you." He put some ointment on my skin and covered it with a bandage and then handed me a bottle of water.
"Keep hydrated, and you'll be okay," he said and walked off.
The fire was almost completely out now, but Travis and the other firefighters still had several hours’ worth of work to do to make sure it didn't reignite. My brothers were all out taking care of the horses, and probably would be for the rest of the night. Mama was in the house, no doubt talking on the phone.
I was all alone on the porch as Bethany walked slowly towards me. Her face was ravaged by emotion, making her even more beautiful. It tugged at my heart to know that she was so worried about me. I stood up to greet her, ready to welcome her into my arms. No doubt she wanted to kiss me for heroically attempting to put out the barn fire.
I was completely unprepared for the sharp pain as she slapped me across the face with brutal force.
"You bastard. How the hell could you do that?" she cried out angrily.
"What are you talking about?" I rubbed my stinging cheek. For someone so petite, she was surprisingly strong.
"You burned down the barn and destroyed all my paintings. Four weeks’ worth of hard work, completely gone. I put my heart and soul into making those paintings come to life, and with one act, you destroyed them all."
"Why would I do that?" I was dumbfounded by her accusation. The anger she felt radiated from her body.
"To keep me from leaving," she shot back at me. I could feel the hatred she felt for me like a punch to the gut.
"Yes, I want you to stay, but why would I burn down my own barn just to keep you here?"
"My mother was right: men will do anything to get what they want. You weren't willing to put in the time to give me the attention I deserved and thought I would just stay and let you use me whenever you wanted.
“When you found out that wasn't true and I was leaving, you had to find an easy way to make me stay so you could keep having your fun. You thought that by destroying my work, I would have to stay to repaint them, but your dirty trick won't work. I'm leaving tomorrow, and there is nothing you can say or do to get me to stay."
Chapter Twenty-one: Bethany
"Thanks for everything." My voice caught in my throat as I hugged Margie Hutchinson goodbye. When we separated, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small handful of cash I had tried to secretly place there.
"What's this for?" she gawked at the bills.
"It's the money you paid me for the first half of the job. I can't accept it."
"Don't be ridiculous." She thrust the cash back at me. "You did the work. It's not your fault the paintings burned in the fire."
"But you didn't get the product that you paid for. It's not right for me to keep the money."
"Listen to me." She put the cash in my hands and gently closed my fingers into in a fist. She clasped her hands over mine and spoke firmly but lovingly. "I didn't purchase a product, I paid for a service. I paid for you to make five paintings here on the ranch. I was paying for your time and effort. It doesn't matter what happened to the pictures after you were done."
"Thank you, Margie." I hugged her tight, and she wrapped her arms around me tightly, like a mother should. When we were done, I shoved the money into my pocket, and she handed me a tissue to dab my eyes and wipe my nose.
Then I smiled at her and said, "I still feel bad that you didn't end up with anything for your money."
"I don't. Where would I have put five paintings? My walls are already full with commemorative plates, lucky horseshoes, and stuffed animal heads from the boys hunting trips. I just have room for one painting, and as luck would have it, that's what you still owe me."
"I'm going home today. That's what I told everybody I would do, and my mother is expecting me this evening. I'll make the final painting from Chicago and ship it to you here."
"Oh, horse crap. Just finish it here. You've got real life views to inspire you, and it will be so much better than if you try to paint the country from inside the city based just on memory."
"But Mom is expecting me."
"Oh, come on. You don't even have to do a painting, just one of your sketches. Draw one up will quick, and you can still leave by noon. You'll be home in plenty of time, and I'll be satisfied that you did the job I hired you to do."
"I guess that could work." I hesitated. "And, I do want my first client to be satisfied, but..."
"But what?" Margie glowered.
"I had such an ugly fight with Colton last night. I wanted to leave without having to run into him again."
"Don't worry about Colton. I'll take care of him," she assured me. The twinkle in her eye should have warned me that she was up to something, but I chose to ignore it and blindly put my trust in her.
"Okay. I'll make one last drawing," I agreed, and Margie clasped her hands together with glee.
I grabbed my sketch pad, a couple of charcoal pencils, my lighter, and a pocket knife for sharpening the pencils and shoved them all in a bag. I added a bottle of water and a snack bag of cookies, and I was ready to go.
Colton and Travis were busy working around the ash heap that used to be the barn, and I circled wide around them to avoid contact. I ended up at the equipment shed were all the horses had been moved to in the middle of the night and backed right
into Brett.
"I knew you couldn't keep your hands off me," the brash young man teased.
"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," I stumbled, trying to regain my composure.
"What are you doing out here? I thought you were leaving," he said, but then a thought occurred to him and he said sadly, "Or did you come to say goodbye."
"Not quite yet. I still have one last picture to make, and I promised your mother I would sketch it for her before I left. So, I just came out here trying to get some inspiration on what to draw."
"Well, that should be easy. Every place you turn your head you'll see something beautiful out here," he said wistfully, and I could tell he truly loved his home.
"I know, but I wanted each piece I made to be unique to each of your brothers. For you, I made the ranch house as it looks when you're coming home from the pasture. For Tom, I painted your mother's garden. Travis, it was the forest trees bordering the pasture, and William, it was the bull looking out over the herd."
"Sounds like the only one you have left is for Colton," Brett observed. I was glad he had said it, because I was avoiding saying his name.
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Well, that's easy. Let Whiskey take you wherever she wants to go. Nobody knows Colton better than that horse, except maybe for you. She'll take you to the perfect place to draw for my big brother."
"All your brothers are bigger than you," I laughed good naturedly.
"Yeah, but somehow Colton always feels like the biggest. He's not taller, or smarter, or faster, but he's the oldest and the most like our dad had been. I guess that's because he got to spend the most time with him. When I talk about my big brother, I always mean Colton."
I could see why Brett would feel that way, but I didn't like dwelling on Colton. The fractures of my broken heart were too painful. All I wanted to do was get this sketch done so I could get the hell away from this ranch and all the sentiments that came with it. Taking Brett's advice and riding Whiskey seemed like the fastest way to make that happen.
"Thanks," I said. Brett helped me saddle the horse and climb onto her back. The even-tempered quarter horse sensed my lack of riding skills and took it easy on me. She walked slowly around the grounds and then worked her way up to a gentle trot. She found the familiar path into the forest that Colton had taken me on and followed it along the river until we came to the apple tree where Colton and I had spent a romantic afternoon.
"It's perfect." I smiled at the horse, grateful that she had known the ideal place to personify Colton.
I let Whiskey graze on the wild grass while I sat on a nearby log and sketched the scene. Summer was at its peak and the branches of the old apple tree were heavy with ripe fruit. Birds perched among the leaves, singing happy songs with their bellies full, while the breeze blew gently through the air.
My pencil sketched the outline of the quarter horse's brown head. Her large, round eyes were like a mirror to her soul, framed by the wispy strands of her mane. I drew the lines of her round muscles and slender legs as she bent her head to eat the grass, ending with her long tail flicking lightly around her. The wisps of grass flitted up around her hooves, with delicate flowers peeking up here and there.
My pencil filled in shadows around the beautiful animal standing beneath the magnificent tree, and I had to pause and smile. It was a wonderful picture, perfect in every way, and I felt immense pride in my work.
This was the way I wanted to end my time here at Hutchinson Ranch. This was the masterpiece befitting of how peaceful it was to live here, and one I would be pleased to give to Margie when I said my final goodbye to her.
I shut my sketch book and noticed for the first time how low the sun had gotten in the sky. My stomach rumbled and I reached for my bag, leaning against the log beside me. I'd eaten the bag of cookies long before, and my water bottle was nearly empty. I figured I’d better eat one of the apples from the tree before heading back home to the ranch.
It would be dark by the time I got there, so it looked liked I would have to stay one more night and go home to Chicago in the morning.
My mother would be disappointed – or maybe she wouldn't. It was hard to tell with Jillian if she cared about me at all, or even liked me. When I'd texted her that morning saying that I would be getting a late start, it had taken her hours to text me back. When she did, all she had to say was, "Don't hurry back."
Having finished my apple, I tossed the core in the shrubs for the animals to eat and started packing my art supplies back into my bag. Whiskey whinnied beside me.
"Ready to go home?" I asked her, and she nudged my hand with her nose. Smiling, I pet her there and said "Me, too."
It startled to me realized I meant the ranch and not Chicago. I felt more like a stranger in the place I should call home, and more at home in the place I didn't belong. Sighing heavily, I wished there was a way to change my fate, but it was already too late.
Chapter Twenty-two: Colton
"The cattle are finally settling down," Brett said to me with a sigh of relief. "Last night's fire sure had upset them, but I think they're going to be okay now."
"Last night's fire upset us all," I joked, but all Brett could muster was a wry smile. Normally he was first to laugh, but right now he was too exhausted. We all were.
It had been one hell of a long night. Even after the firefighters had left in the early hours of the morning, I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning in bed, worried that the flames might start up again.
When my mind finally settled from that, all I could hear were Bethany's words of anger echoing back at me over and over. How could she think I would sabotage her artwork by committing arson? The barn was destroyed, and the fire could have easily spread to burn down the entire ranch if it hadn't been caught in time. It was true that I would do almost anything to get Bethany to stay, but I sure as hell wouldn't destroy everything I held dear to do it.
Finally, I gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. The sun was up, and there was a lot of work to do. Fire Marshal Pete Renner was performing an investigation to determine the cause of the fire. The horses needed to be moved back to the stable, fed, watered, and soothed from their anxiety.
The cattle were highly agitated, and I had to cancel my plans to take them to the slaughterhouse. It would take a while for the toxins caused by fear to work their way out of their systems, and the last thing I wanted to do was sell beef whose flavor was tainted. It would ruin my reputation with my buyers for years.
A reporter from the Riverbend Gazette came out to do a story on the fire, which took up a lot of my time. Once word got out, neighbors were stopping by to make sure we were all right and to deliver casseroles. What was it that made people think a casserole could cure any tragedy?
It was late in the afternoon before I finally had a chance to get back to the barn where Travis and Pete had been working all day.
"It was definitely arson," Pete said grimly. "Look at this."
He led me into the center of the pile of ash that used to be my barn and pointed out the tell-tale signs of evidence dictating how the fire had started from a single point and grown to engulf the old wooden structure filled with hay.
"I understand the ranch has been struggling financially this past year." Pete didn't pull any punches. "Did you start this fire as a means of cashing in on an insurance policy?"
"No." I was adamant. "This is my home. I would never burn it down. Besides, the sheriff is conducting an investigation of cattle rustling. If we can get the missing cattle back, that will take care of our debt."
"The sheriff that is also your brother?"
"Yes, but he runs a clean investigation, and don't you doubt it. He suspects that the reason the ranch is losing money is because someone is steeling cattle."
"I heard two men were arrested for that." Pete nodded.
"Yes, well, there's reason to believe there is still a thief on the property," I stated. Travis showed his surprise.
"Why didn't you tell
us?" He was pissed off at me now.
Squaring off to my middle brother, I said, "Because if we're going to flush him out, he needs to think everything is fine. If you were running around acting all suspicious, chances are he'd run and we'd never get our cattle back."
Pete cut in the middle of us and said, "It's possible whoever stole your cattle started the fire, or they could be completely unrelated. Tell me, do you recognize this?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out plastic bag with a lighter inside. It was unique, with a bird etched into the metal case.
"Yeah, I recognize that," I said.
"Me, too. One of the employees was lighting cigarettes with it out in the field one day." Travis' eyes lit up.
"Yeah, but who was it? I can't remember." My head was throbbing from stress and lack of sleep, and I just couldn't focus.
"Who smokes?" Travis asked, trying to be logical about it.
"Everybody." I clenched my hands into fists and longed to punch something, I was so frustrated. "All the guys who work on this ranch, except for us Hutchinson brothers, all smoke cigarettes."
"Well, one of them had that lighter. When you remember who it was, call me immediately." Pete handed me his card. "Chances are when we find the owner of that lighter, you've found your arsonist – and maybe even your cattle rustler."'
"Thank you." I shook Pete's hand and watched as he and Travis left to share their findings with Will down at the Sheriff's office and file a report.
I went to tell Brett he could call it a day, and caught of glimpse of him walking off hand in hand with Emma Fields. They made a sweet couple and she was good for him; I just hoped he didn't blow it with her like I seemed to have done with Bethany.
I realized for the first time that I hadn't seen her all day. Things had been so crazy all day I'd been too busy to pay her any attention. In fact, they'd been that way for the past couple of days. No wonder she felt like I didn't pay enough attention to her and was just using her for a plaything.