Wrong Turn, Right Cowboy: Paintbrush, Book 2

by Denise Belinda McDonald

  “Sorry, just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Gillian?”

  “Among other things, but yeah.”

  Hank shook his head. “Something not quite right with her daughter.”

  Quint paused after he slammed the digger into the ground. “Why do you say that?”

  “The other day when that fire started in her back yard, her momma sent her down to Missy’s to stay safe. Ryder said she balled herself up on the sofa and shook something fierce. Never would say what was the matter but that’s just a little much for a shed fire.”

  Unless you’d been caught in one yourself as a child. Sure, Quint had toyed with the fact that maybe Heidi had been starting them. It wouldn’t be the first time trauma led to mimicking actions, but if that was how she reacted… “Funny thing that fire. Do you have any theories?”

  Hank shook his head. “Not a one. It’s strange. They started when those two got to town, but you know what, it seems more like it’s aimed at them rather than by them.”

  “How do you figure?”

  Hank peeled off his gloves and grabbed up two water bottles. He handed one to Quint and took a long sip before he continued. “All the fires were in the proximity of where they were at, but small enough to get help there before it got outta hand. If I had to guess, I’d say someone was trying to make it look like one of the Harwoods were up to it.”

  “Why?”

  “To run them out of town? Scare them?” Hank shrugged. “Could be any reason. Folks around here don’t always take to having new people.”

  Or one person in particular. But Quint couldn’t wrap his brain around Ruby setting the fires. Shoot, one of them was at her motel. If it had gotten out of hand she’d have lost her entire business. He rolled the water bottle across his forehead. That fire, though it was a fast burn, probably would’ve burned out before it could reach the backside of the motel.

  “I need to go into town at lunch.”

  “Why don’t we break now? Then maybe you’ll have your head screwed on right.”

  “Maybe.”

  Quint juggled the sack of meatloaf sandwiches and the sodas as he pushed through the door of the Paintbrush Motel.

  “Hey, Quint. What are you doing here?” Ruby scooted back from her computer and stood.

  Quint held up the paper bag. “Lunch.” He didn’t really have a plan how to proceed. In his gut though, he suspected Ruby may be the key to the fires. They hadn’t started until Gillian and Heidi’s arrival. The only person he could think of who was put out by the pair of Harwoods was Ruby.

  “Wow. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” She fussed with her hair as a smile spread wide across her face.

  He cursed himself for being three kinds of ass leading her on this way. But if Gillian’s comments at the picnic were any inkling, he’d been doing it unknowingly for years. “I brought a couple of Clara’s house specials.”

  Ruby shifted some papers from her desk and motioned for Quint to sit. “How have you been? It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.” She took the sacks from him, opened them and set the contents onto the desk.

  “It’s only been two days.”

  “Has it?” she asked around a bite of sandwich. “Been keeping yourself busy?” It was almost accusatory. Had he been back in his oblivious world of a few days ago, it would have passed without the slightest register, but now, now that this strange unshakable notion that Ruby was neck deep into trouble…

  Quint nodded. “I’ve been putting out fires. Figuratively, and unfortunately, quite literally.”

  He watched her as she shifted in her seat. It wasn’t so much what she did that made his suspicion grow, but what she didn’t do—like ask questions. Paintbrush was a small town and gossip was standard currency. Anyone who could get a little extra knowledge was golden until the next big thing came along. The fact that she didn’t pump him for information… Damn, he’d hoped he’d been wrong at the turn of his thoughts.

  “No one got hurt this time, but it seems something funky is going on. Sheriff Reese is going to send out the findings to the Sheridan fire marshal and get his take on things.”

  Ruby blanched slightly but still didn’t give anything else away. “Strange.”

  Without coming right out and asking her if she’d done it—and he still had enough doubt to keep his thoughts to himself for now—he hoped the news that it was going to be reviewed would harness whatever motives pushed her to do it and compel her to admit it—or at least stop.

  They ate in silence for a while. He’d like to say it was like old times, comfortable and relaxing, but he was so tense that the slightest movements came across as jerky and clumsy. He knocked over his soda bottle three times and shot ketchup onto his jeans.

  “So, have you started thinking about the Founders’ Day dance next month?” Ruby balled up her napkin and tossed it into the empty sack.

  Little else. He was hesitant to ask Gillian to something so far away. Afraid she would say no because she was leaving. Afraid she’d say yes and still end up leaving. The first weekend every August, the entire population met out at the old Harper ranch twenty miles east of town. The property had fallen by the wayside many, many years before, but folks would go to the first settlement in Paintbrush to pay homage to the town’s first family. One summer in the mid-eighties, a barn had been erected to hold a dance and later that fall an auction for the local charities—or whatever was needed. “Is that next month?”

  Ruby nodded. “I hear that Cade Holstrom may stay on until then. Something about his agent using it as a promotional opportunity or some hokey crap like that.”

  “Hmm.” Quint shoved the last bunch of fries into his mouth. He mumbled something incoherent and liked to have choked in the process.

  Ruby jumped up and pounded his on the back. “Can’t take you anywhere, Walters.”

  When the worst of the coughs subsided he held up his hand in surrender. “Stop, now.”

  “Sorry.” The woman blushed. She sat back down. “If you think you might go to the dance, maybe we could ride up there together.”

  “Sure, we’ll see.”

  Gillian paced the length of the living room. For more than a year, running took up her every waking thought. Wherever she and her daughter landed, she was halfway out the door before the dust ever settled. Ready to go when she felt threatened or scared.

  Rick was not above ignoring a restraining order. And as he’d already proven once that he was less than worried what his actions brought down on him, his interest in Heidi was too worrisome to wait around and see what he might do next. She didn’t think he’d hurt her daughter—why would he, he had no reason to. Heidi had never spoken a word to prosecutors and the papers were quick to point this out each and every time the story came to light again—but she’d never thought he’d kill her sister either.

  If she knew that he was in Mobile, she could relax.

  Think. Think. Think.

  Gillian paced again and again. “I could call Brenda and see what she may have heard.” Her friend Brenda had been a rock for her and she’d definitely missed her, but she had not once wanted to risk any information getting to Rick.

  She stopped at the phone, picked up the receiver and set it back down. She did this three times. “It’s not worth the risk.”

  She was all torn up inside about her growing attachment to Quint—worse was Heidi’s growing attachment to Ryder.

  She dropped onto the sofa. “Do I keep her bodily safe from Rick or heart safe from Ryder?” She scrubbed her hands over her face.

  The phone rang and jarred her upright. “He-hello?”

  “You okay?” Manny didn’t bother with small talk.

  “Um, yeah.”

  “I wasn’t sure when you didn’t come in this afternoon.”

  Gillian glanced at the clock. Half past one. Darnitall. It was her half-day at the garage. “I am so sorry. I don’t know how it slipped my mind.” She jumped up and ran toward the back of the house with the pho
ne tucked at the crook of her neck. “I will be there in ten minutes tops.”

  “No hurry, hon. I just… Get here when you get here.” Manny hung up.

  Gillian turned off the phone and dropped it onto the unmade bed. She ran around the room and snapped up the clothes she’d left strewn everywhere. “This day is already crap; what else could go wrong?”

  “Crap.” Gillian yelped when she smashed her finger in the stapler. So far, she’d managed to knock over a stack of tires, burn the roof of her mouth on nasty coffee, and catch and rip her pant leg on the edge of a beat-up car.

  “Gillian, can you bring me the socket wrench I left in the tool box?” Manny hollered from just outside the bay door where he was working on Clara’s car.

  “Sure thing.” She pushed away from the desk and went in search of said wrench. She scooped up the tool and stepped out the bay door just as a dark sedan drove by slowly. The late afternoon sun shone in her eyes blocking out the view of the license plate. “Did you see that car?”

  “What? Where?” He raised out from under the hood of the car.

  Gillian pointed the direction the car went that was nothing but a pinprick of taillights.

  Manny stared at me for a moment. “Probably someone just passing through. There’s a big cattleman’s auction up in Sheridan this weekend. We get people passing through now and again coming from Jackson Hole.”

  Gillian nodded and handed him the socket wrench. She wanted to chalk it up to the auction but some sort of unease stirred low in her stomach. She tried to shake off the feeling. “Back to work.” She patted Manny on his shoulder and he hunched under the hood of the car again.

  Gillian went back to her small office and turned on the computer. She put Rick’s name in a search engine but nothing past the trial and his subsequent release came up. There was nothing indicating what he was doing now or where he was. As far as she knew, when he was released, he was free and clear to do anything and go anywhere as there were no further changes pending. He could be anywhere. But could that be in Wyoming?

  “What do you mean you need time off?” Jacob slammed his coffee mug down on the scarred wooden table. “This is the busiest we’ve been in well over a year. I have two new clients bringing their horses up for boarding at the end of the week.”

  Quint was toying with the idea of flying down to Alabama to see what Rick Damon was up to. “It was just a thought. Sorry, I can do it another time.” The more he considered it, the more he realized he risked the chance of alerting the man to Gillian and Heidi’s whereabouts if he went snooping around.

  Jacob gripped the back of his chair. “You’ve been having a few weird thoughts the last little bit. She got to you, didn’t she?”

  Quint nodded. “More than I thought possible.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “What is there to do about it? She’s already talking about leaving.”

  Jacob scoffed. “Are you kidding? Make her stay. Make her want to stay. If you want her badly enough you’ll figure out what to do.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Quint shook his head.

  “Nothing worth having is.”

  It would be hard to stay. The more and more it rolled around her mind, though, it would be harder to leave. Despite trying to keep her heart disengaged, she was head over heels in love with Quint Walters. Throw in Missy, Ryder, Hank, and Manny, and she’d found an entire family from one wrong turn.

  If they stayed though, could she ever truly feel safe and comfortable? Would she ever stop looking over her shoulder? If there was some way she could get a message to Rick to assure him they had no intention of ever causing him problems, would his threats go away?

  The doorbell rang and made her pause in her thoughts.

  Ryder stood with his hands shoved down in his pockets. “Hi, Miss Gillian.”

  “Hey, come on in. I’ll go get Heidi.” She shook her head and scooped up the basket of clean laundry. If she let it, all the thoughts and fears would drive her crazy. She needed to block it out for a bit and run through her routine for normalcy. She walked in to Heidi’s room. The teen thrust something under the covers and jumped up from the bed. Gillian pretended not to notice as she set the laundry atop the dresser. “Hon, Ryder’s in the living room.”

  “What? Why?” Heidi bolted toward the closet. “He’s early. I’m not ready.” She flipped through the rack of clothing.

  “For?”

  “We have a date. A for real, for real date.” Heidi raised her arm and sniffed. “Ugh. Shower. Mom, tell him ten minutes.” She jerked the shirt over her head. “Can’t believe he’s early.” She dashed into the bathroom.

  Gillian leaned her head out the teen’s door. “Be right there, Ryder. Make yourself…” she trailed off.

  The shower ran and Heidi was singing. Gillian hurried to the bed to see what was so important her daughter had to hide it.

  She pulled back the covers. And just stared. A cell phone. It vibrated as she watched it. Sierra Hill’s face popped up on the screen. The room pitched and nausea rolled Gillian’s stomach.

  Heidi emerged from the bathroom wearing tan shorts and a pink tank topped off with a towel on her head. Gillian had no idea how long she’d stood there staring at the small device.

  “I didn’t have time for a deep conditioning but I’m sure…” Heidi pulled up short when she saw her mom. “What are you looking at?” Heidi’s gaze shot to the bed as the phone vibrated again. “I, uh…”

  Spots danced before Gillian’s eyes. She snapped up the phone and rushed down the hall. Heidi was fast on her heels.

  “Mom, let me—”

  She stopped so fast that Heidi slammed into her back. “Not one word.” Gillian took several deep breaths. She tried to remain as calm as possible, but with the ringing in her ears it was growing more difficult.

  “Ryder.” She had to clear her throat.

  The teen stood from his perch on the edge of the sofa.

  “Ryder, I need to you to leave. Now.”

  “No, Mom.” Heidi pulled at Gillian’s sleeve.

  Ryder swallowed hard and volleyed his gaze between the two Harwood women. “Is everything okay?”

  The doorbell rang before Gillian could answer. Not that she had enough breath to tell him that no, nothing was okay. Her breath came shorter and shorter as her chest burned.

  “I think your mom’s gonna pass out.” Ryder took a step closer as the bell chimed again. “I’ll get it.” He all but tripped over his feet and grabbed the door.

  “Hey, guys.” Quint sauntered in and removed his straw cowboy hat.

  “I’ll… uh…” Ryder looked like he wanted to bolt, but he stood his ground.

  Quint frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Gillian grabbed Heidi’s arm. She tried in vain to get a deep breath, but she was able to find her voice finally. “How long?”

  “Mom, it’s not that bad.” Heidi blanched.

  “How long?” She held the phone with the fingers of her casted hand. A cramp built.

  Heidi lowered her gaze to the floor. “Since before we left.”

  The ringing in Gillian’s ears increased as her grip tightened. “How is that possible?”

  “Sierra added me to her plan a couple of years ago. It’s only an extra ten bucks a month. She has unlimited texting. Her parents didn’t care.”

  “And you’ve been doing this the whole time we’ve been gone? The whole damn—”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I never did tell her where we were. Even when she asked. And I used babysitting money when we were in Alabama. I’ve paid her back some since we moved here. I used the money I earned from Jacob.”

  “You what?”

  “I mailed her some money.”

  Spots danced before Gillian’s eyes. “When?”

  Heidi shrugged. “A few days ago.”

  “You’re hurting her.” Quint came up behind Gillian and pried her hand lose. “Ryder, take Heidi into the kitchen.”

  Gillia
n sank down to the edge of the sofa and bent her head between her knees to level her breathing.

  “Take a deep breath. Now another.” Quint stroked her back. “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. After a few minutes, her fight or flight kicked in. She pushed Quint’s stroking hand away. “I have to pack. We need to leave.”

  “Why the hell do you have to leave?” Quint settled his hands on her shoulders to keep her from getting up. “Let me help you.”

  Gillian looked into his eyes. “You can’t.” She loved him too much to put his life at risk. “There’s nothing you can do.” Nothing she could afford to let him do. If something happened to him, because of her… She couldn’t live with that. Plus she only had enough strength to protect Heidi. She didn’t have one extra ounce to give to Quint no matter how much he thought he was willing to help her “fight” whatever darkness came after them.

  Sure he said he was willing, but he didn’t know what Rick was capable of.

  And if she could help it, he never would.

  Gillian sniffed back tears and swiped at her runny nose. “You want to help? If anyone comes looking for us, pretend you don’t know us. Forget we were ever here.”

  “I can’t do that.” Quint spoke quickly.

  She pushed herself up from the sofa. “You have to.”

  “Don’t go.” His voice cracked. “Please, let me protect you.”

  Gillian turned, stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a gentle kiss. “You’re a good man, Quint Walters. You take care of yourself. I, uh…” She almost told him she loved him, but she didn’t want to hear what he said in return. If he shared that feeling she wasn’t sure she could actually walk away. If he didn’t… She didn’t want to know everything she felt and shared with him was all in vain. “Good bye.”

  Quint watched her walk down the hall. His gut burned with anger and hurt at the same time the rest of him numbed. He could protect her and her daughter if she would just give him a chance. But she would rather run. Alone.

  It was the worst kind of rejection he could have ever gotten.