Rancher's Covert Christmas

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Rancher's Covert Christmas Page 4

by Beth Cornelison


  She replayed that scene in her mind’s eye. Brady had put off the foreman at first. That would indicate no preconception about the state of the ladder. And Dave had climbed right on. To his detriment. Josh and Zane had been involved with greeting her. She couldn’t fairly make an assessment there. Had she not arrived when she did, would one of them have been climbing the faulty ladder? And was all this speculation just that? Seeing trouble and misconduct where none existed? The ladder was clearly old. Rusted in more places than the screws. Maybe the worn-out equipment was just an accident waiting to happen and Dave had drawn the short straw.

  The wail of approaching emergency vehicles and rumble of engines drew her back to the window. An older man with black hair like Zane’s had joined the men standing around Dave. Michael McCall? As the vehicles pulled up, the older man walked over to an attractive brown-haired woman of approximately the same age and wrapped her in a comforting hug. Zane’s mother?

  Erin didn’t linger in the guesthouse any longer. While getting in the way during an emergency would be bad form for a visiting travel writer, she really wanted to have a firsthand, up-close view of the proceedings. A sheriff’s department SUV was among the arriving vehicles, and she really wanted to observe the handling of the incident, since Michael’s chief reason for hiring her was his discontent with the way the local law enforcement had essentially shrugged off previous incidents of vandalism on the ranch. Or so Michael felt. Maybe there had truly been little the sheriff could do, too little evidence to make an arrest. Michael didn’t buy that reasoning and that scenario seemed sketchy to Erin, as well. How hard had they tried to find the person sabotaging the Double M?

  Snagging her coat off the back of the communal area’s couch where she’d discarded it minutes ago, Erin headed back outside. She kept to the perimeter of the gathered crowd, edging closer to the site of the broken ladder.

  Initial efforts of the first responders were, understandably, getting Dave stabilized and into the ambulance. Zane approached one of the sheriff’s deputies and pointed to the fallen ladder, spread his hands, shook his head. Oh, to be a fly on the...deputy’s hat?

  Erin rolled her eyes at her broken idiom and noticed presumably Michael break away from presumably his wife to join Zane’s conversation with the deputy. Michael’s jaw was taut. When the deputy said something with a lift of his shoulder, Michael’s eyes hardened, and he made an angry gesture toward the rubble of the ladder.

  Zane placed a hand on presumably his father’s shoulder and said something that was answered with a head shake and grim, tight-lipped expression from the older man. The older woman joined them and apparently encouraged Michael to step aside. “Let Zane handle it, honey,” Erin overheard the woman say, then garbled words and “...your blood pressure.”

  She read on his lips the curse word that Michael loosed as Zane and the deputy stepped aside and his wife guided him away. As the older couple stepped to the edge of the crowd, Michael’s gaze drifted to Erin and stopped. He tensed, then softened his facial expression and gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment. His wife noticed, and Erin saw the woman’s lips say, Who’s that?

  Michael turned toward his wife to reply, and whatever he said had the woman towing him over to Erin, a warm smile of greeting on her lips. “Are you Erin Palmer, the writer?”

  Erin stuck out her hand to the woman. “I am.”

  “Melissa and Michael McCall. So nice to meet you.” Rather than shake her hand, Melissa folded Erin’s hand between her gloved palms and squeezed. “I’m so sorry that your welcome has been spoiled by this terrible accident.”

  “No apologies, please. I’m just so sorry this happened. How is Dave?”

  “Shocky,” Michael said, offering his hand.

  Melissa dropped Erin’s fingers so that she could greet the patriarch of the family.

  “But the EMT assures us he’ll be fine.” Erin gave the older man’s hand a firm shake as he continued. “Glad to meet you, Ms. Palmer. Zane says you were quite helpful in calming the patient earlier. Some sort of yoga breathing?”

  She shrugged. “Mostly common sense. He needed not to hyperventilate, which was where he was headed, so I got him to refocus his thoughts and breathe deeper.”

  “Don’t be modest, dear. That was a good thing you did. We thank you. Dave is like family to us.” Melissa patted Erin’s sleeve, and the maternal gesture flowed through Erin like warm honey. She immediately liked the woman, whose kind eyes and generous smile spoke of a gentle soul.

  “Melissa and Michael McCall...” she said, tipping her head with a grin tugging her lips. “How very alliterative.”

  Melissa chuckled. “Says the writer. Yes, we have plenty of Ms around here. That’s where the Double M got its name.”

  Erin furrowed her forehead. “I thought the ranch had been in the family for several generations.”

  Melissa gave a startled laugh. “Someone has been doing her research!” She sent her husband an impressed look before returning her gaze to Erin. When the mostly gray blue heeler nuzzled her hand, Melissa bent to stroke the dog’s head and scratch his ears. “The ranch was my family’s for close to fifty years before I inherited it when my father died. We renamed it the Double M at that time because I wanted Michael to feel he was included, that he belonged, that the ranch was truly his as much as mine.”

  Michael jerked his head toward Melissa. “What? You told me you wanted to change the name because Rocking X sounded like a porn palace.”

  Erin snorted a laugh and quickly covered her mouth to muffle her mirth.

  “It did sound like a porn palace or house of ill repute!” Melissa fussed. “My mother thought so, too. It needed to change. And the Double M achieved both dignity and a sense of inclusion for you. Win-win.”

  Michael touched his wife’s cheek. “Well done, love.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

  The clack of metal stretcher legs folding called their attention to the back of the ambulance. Dave was loaded in the patient bay, and Zane had to retrieve one of the dogs when it tried to jump into the ambulance with the stretcher.

  Helen clambered in next to Dave before the back doors were slammed shut.

  “Lord, take care of him. Give them both strength and peace,” Melissa said under her breath, then raised a worried look to her husband.

  “Why don’t you follow the ambulance to the hospital?” Michael said quietly to his wife. “I’ll join you shortly, but I want to stay here as long as the sheriff is on the premises.”

  Melissa gave him a long, anxious stare. “Will you behave? Let your sons talk to the deputies? I don’t need another emergency because your blood pressure spiked.”

  The reminder of his medical condition clearly irritated the ranch owner, but he sighed, nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Thank you.” Melissa rose on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before heading across the ranch yard calling, “I’m going to the hospital. Roy? Josh? Anyone want to ride with me?”

  Michael shifted his body so that his back was to the rest of the people in the yard. “You saw the accident happen?”

  “Sort of,” Erin said, matching his lowered volume. “I was talking to Zane at the time, and suddenly the ladder collapsed, and Dave was on the ground.”

  “And you suspect foul play?” Michael lifted an eyebrow.

  Erin shook her head. “Not necessarily. I just thought it wise for the police to photograph the scene, treat it as sabotage for the time being. Just in case. Considering the history of incidents here, it would be prudent.”

  “I agree. Unfortunately, the deputy I talked to is not so convinced. I tried to argue the point and was sidelined by my family because I had a cardiac event a few years ago and am at risk of another because of my blood pressure.” He grumbled something under his breath, then said, “The best thing for my blood pressure would be to see this menace hanging over us so
lved, and the ranch put back on a profitable trajectory.”

  “I’d like to go observe,” Erin said, casting a glance behind her client and seeing the deputies milling about the ladder debris. “We’ll talk later.” She offered her hand and said in a louder voice, “It was nice to meet you, Michael. Thank you for hosting me.”

  He jerked a nod and stepped aside, and Erin eased closer to the area where the deputy was nudging the parts of the broken ladder with his toe.

  “Um,” she said and cleared her throat, “aren’t you going to photograph the scene before you move pieces?”

  The deputy raised his head and eyed her. “We only do that at crime scenes, ma’am. No evidence of a crime here.”

  “And how do you know there was no crime if you don’t examine the broken parts and try to determine what happened?”

  The deputy tucked his thumbs in his utility belt, puffed his chest out and narrowed a glare on Erin. “And who are you?”

  “Guest of the ranch. Concerned citizen. Witness to the accident. Take your pick.” She tipped her head. “I’m available now if you are planning to interview the witnesses.”

  “Again, no need. No crime to investigate.” He took a step toward her. “Unless you know something about what happened that you’d like to share. You have a reason to believe this was more than an accident?”

  She flipped up a gloved palm. “Context. Past incidents of vandalism here. And, in my experience, ladders don’t typically just fall apart.”

  The deputy bent to pick up the bits of the rusty screw she’d found earlier. “They do when the hardware holding ’em together rusts out this much. The ladder was old. Worn out. I don’t see enough here to warrant an investigation.”

  She held the deputy’s stare. The hard slash of his mouth said clearly he was miffed that she’d questioned his professional judgment, but she didn’t back down. She was no stranger to crimes being brushed under a rug, investigations neglected because of political agendas and the influence of money.

  She heard the crunch of boots on slush but didn’t take her eyes from the deputy.

  “Is there a problem here?” Zane said, stepping up beside her and dividing a glance between her and the deputy.

  “I was just offering to tell Deputy—” she shifted her gaze briefly to the man’s name tag “—Morton what happened. What I saw. But he indicated he wouldn’t be conducting interviews or investigating the cause of the accident, seeing that he has no reason to believe anything untoward happened here.” She didn’t try to hide her sarcasm, and she earned a scowl from the deputy and a puzzled look from Zane.

  Morton cast a disgruntled look at Zane before returning his dark glare to her. “Thank you for your concern, ma’am,” he said tightly, his expression flinty. “I’ll be sure to contact you if we have any questions for you later. Good day.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked away.

  Zane watched the officer go for a moment before facing her with a crease in his brow. “What did I miss?”

  “I was just expressing my concern to the deputy that they weren’t doing a more thorough investigation of what happened here.” She motioned to the broken ladder, then rolled her shoulders, releasing some of the tension that had knotted there as she’d confronted the deputy.

  “I see.” His lips pressed into a thin line, and he glanced toward the departing squad car. “As I said earlier, I appreciate your help with calming Dave. But if I may be blunt, Ms. Palmer...”

  His return to her surname told her all she needed to know about his mood, his opinion of her conversation with the deputy.

  “The incident is not your concern, and I would ask that you not interfere. Our family needs to maintain a good working relationship with the sheriff’s department. We have other issues pending with them, and it would be counterproductive to antagonize Deputy Morton or any of the other officers.”

  “Even if they aren’t doing their job?” she countered, belatedly realizing that she should have stifled her knee-jerk reaction.

  “Not your business,” he repeated calmly, though she could see the tick of the pulse in his throat and the twitch of muscles in his jaw.

  She blew out a cleansing breath and gave him a nod. If she wanted to do her job properly, she had to try to maintain objectivity and not let her hot-button issues color the facts. She’d only just arrived, and she had far too much fact-gathering and observing left to do. Getting on Zane’s wrong side would be a mistake.

  Chapter 4

  Later that day, just before dark, Erin knocked on the front door of the main ranch house, a notepad tucked under her arm. The door was answered by a pretty young woman with dark hair and a tall, willowy figure. Her gray eyes were bracketed with tiny creases that reflected the strain and concern for Dave that hung over the ranch.

  “Hi,” Erin said, offering her hand to the woman, “I’m Erin Palmer.”

  Although the brunette shook her hand, her expression remained puzzled. “Piper. Nice to meet you.”

  Piper. Erin mentally reviewed the names her client had given her about the ranch staff and family members. Piper was Michael McCall’s daughter. Zane’s sister. Right... She could see the resemblance in the young woman’s pretty face.

  Piper bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to know you? Did you have an appointment?”

  “Uh, Zane didn’t tell you about me?”

  Zane’s sister twisted her mouth in thought. “Not that I recall.”

  “Well, with all the confusion this morning because of Dave’s accident, I guess he—”

  “You know about that?” Piper blinked her surprised.

  “Yeah. It all happened just minutes after I arrived.”

  Piper caught her breath and smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm. “The writer! Of course. I’m sorry.” She opened the door wider and stood back. “Come in, please. I’ve been so flustered since I heard Dave got hurt, I totally forgot about your visit.”

  “How is Dave doing?” Erin asked as she slipped off her coat.

  Piper took the winter wrap from her. “Stable. It was a bad break. Both bones in his lower leg. He’s just come out of surgery to put in a metal rod to stabilize the leg.”

  Erin winced. “Wow. I’m so sorry.” She cast a quick glance around. “So...is Zane around?”

  “Oh...sure. I think he’s back in the office. Let me go ask him if he’s available to speak with you.”

  While she waited in the foyer for Piper to return, Erin noticed a small black cat with a white bib and white toes peek around the corner from the next room. “Hello there.” She squatted and held out her hand. The cat crept forward to sniff her fingers, but when she tried to pat the feline, it shrank away from her touch. “I won’t hurt you.” She tried again to pat the shy kitty, but it turned and trotted away.

  The thud of boots on the hardwood floor announced Zane before he appeared in the front hall. “Hi. Piper said you needed to see me.”

  She stood and greeted him with a smile. “If you have a few minutes, I thought we could start on the article. I’d like to talk to you and anyone else that’s available.”

  Piper reappeared beside her brother. “I’m free now. I just need to check that Connor’s doing his homework like he’s supposed to be.”

  “Great! Can we meet in your office?” she asked, glancing at Zane.

  He spread his hands, palms up. “Why not? I’ll rustle Josh up, and then you’ll have three of the four investors in the adventure company.”

  Erin dipped her chin in agreement. “Perfect.”

  “Back in five,” Piper said, heading out the front door.

  When she glanced from the door to Zane with a confused look and a question on the tip of her tongue, he preempted her query saying, “She lives in the foreman’s house across the way. She married Brady this summer. Connor is their son.”

  “Got it.”
She flipped open her notebook and clicked her pen open to jot down the relationships and connections as she followed Zane down the hall to a small room that was likely once a bedroom but now housed a desk, bookshelves, printer stand and...a sawhorse with a well-worn saddle.

  Erin pulled up short when she saw the sawhorse, and her face must have expressed her surprise because, again, Zane foresaw her question and offered, “I’ll be working on it later, oiling the leather and fixing a broken buckle. I try to keep something in here that I can work on during downtime with the paperwork. Saves time trekking back and forth to the stable or barn, and I don’t feel like I’m ignoring my ranching responsibilities this way.”

  “Very efficient.”

  “Well, it’s not much. And I do still pull my weight with the herd and tending the horses. This just keeps me busy in stolen minutes throughout the day and at night.”

  “No rest for the weary?” She sent him a half grin as she settled in a chair in front of the desk.

  “No rest for the shorthanded and trying to stay financially afloat,” he replied as he tapped his phone screen without looking at her. He laid the phone on the desk next to neat piles of paperwork. “You get settled in all right?”

  “I did. Thanks.”

  “Good.” His phone buzzed, and he lifted it again to check the screen. “Josh will be here in a minute. But before my brother and sister join us, I want to apologize if I sounded...curt earlier.” He dragged a hand down his clean-shaven cheek and sighed. “I was upset about Dave, trying to deal with the uneasiness between the sheriff’s department and my father, run point on the situation with the EMS and...” He exhaled through pursed lips, making an exasperated sputtering noise, then shrugged. “Losing another hand was the last thing we needed. And with us in the middle of roundup, about to head to market.”

  The last thing they needed... Erin’s thoughts spun. Losing Dave just as the family was about to realize their profits for the season...

 

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