How silly of her to have ever been jealous of Matthew’s neighbor.
She set the message on the center of his desk, dropping the stapler over the edge to hold it in place. She absently straightened the edges of several sheets that had come out of the fax machine. Her eyes perked up at the heading. Wayland’s.
Well, Matthew would be glad to get some action on that, finally. Then she realized that the fax machine was still printing, but needed paper. She found a stack and added it, waiting until it started printing again. Her eyes caught as the final sheet finished printing. Her brother’s name leapt out at her.
“Ohmigod.” She plunked down onto the chair. She pulled the letter off the stack and read it through. Then she read it again.
Jaimie found Joe in the barn, washing up after delivering a calf. He looked at her curiously as he dried off. “Something wrong?”
She shoved the sheaf of papers at him. “You tell me.”
He glanced at it, then paled beneath his tanned face. “Where did you get this?”
“Does it matter?” Jaimie hugged her arms around herself. “There was no mixup with Matthew’s invoices at all. You’ve been behind it all along. What did you do? Place the orders then sell the stuff on the side after Matthew had already paid for it and pocket the money?”
His jaw tightened, and she realized she’d come close to the truth.
Jaimie swallowed. “Why? Why would you do this to them? You’re their foreman. They trusted you.”
Her brother raked back his thick, auburn hair, so much like her own. They shared the same hair, the same eyes. But this man who stood before her seemed a stranger.
“Look,” he said, suddenly cajoling. “Nobody needs to know. I’ll pay it back.”
“How? You have money like this just lying around?” She felt nauseous. “What on earth did you need money like that for?”
“I’ll pay it back,” he insisted. “There’s a game in Casper—”
“A game! This is about gambling?” She yanked her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe this.”
“Sis, don’t overreact.”
“Overreact?” She whirled on him. “You stole from people who trusted you. My God, when Matthew learns—”
“Come off it, sis. Matthew’s a legend in these parts. He knows his way around a poker table.”
“Years ago,” Jaimie flared. Matthew had told her why he never gambled anymore. Why his card games now were for chips or matches. Or chocolate Kisses. “And he didn’t steal to do it!”
“You can’t tell him,” Joe snapped. “Not unless you want to put Maggie and the kid on the streets.”
“You’re crazy. If anyone is putting your wife and child on the streets, it’s you.”
He gave her a pained look. “Sis—”
“No!” Jaimie snatched the papers back from him. “How did you think you could keep this from coming out?”
“I told you, I’ll pay it back.”
“Even if you did, these invoices still exist. You stole from them, Joe. Stole,” she repeated, her voice harsh, trembling. She died a silent death inside. If there had been any hope...any hope at all that she could make something good and lasting with Matthew, her brother’s actions had dashed them all. With one toss of the dice. One cut of the deck.
Matthew valued the Double-C above everything. He would never forgive anyone who worked against the well-being of his ranch. Look at that man who’d tried rustling cattle. He’d been a schoolmate of Matthew’s.
She folded her arms around her, holding herself together desperately, when she feared she’d just start falling into a million pieces if she weren’t careful.
Joe was watching her, his eyes calculating. “I’m telling you, sis. It’s a high-stakes game. I’ve played with these guys before. I can beat ’em. I know I can.”
“And if you don’t?” She shook the papers in his face. “You think you’ll be able to solve it by defrauding the Double-C for a few more thousand? A hundred thousand? When does it stop? Maybe you’ve been finagling more invoices than just Wayland’s!”
“I haven’t. Besides that money is a drop in the bucket to the wealth the Clays have,” Joe said. “They’ll never miss it.”
She stared at him, more appalled than ever, if that was possible. “So that’s supposed to absolve you of your actions? You stole from them. You abused their trust in you. I don’t care if it’s forty thousand dollars or a box of pens. You. Stole.”
“I can make it right,” he insisted. “You just can’t tell Matt You can’t tell any of ’em.”
“And if I don’t? What will you do?”
“I won’t play another game,” he swore. “No cards...no ponies. Nothing.”
“I don’t think you can help yourself.”
“I can stop any time I want!”
“Prove it,” she challenged. “Find a Gamblers Anonymous group or something. Tell your wife!”
“Fine, fine,” he said impatiently. “But you can’t tell the Clays. I’ll get the money together after this game and everything’ll be fine.”
She stared at him. “You just said you wouldn’t play another game.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “Not after this one.”
It was like a drug to him, this gambling, she realized. And she knew instinctively that he was addicted to it as surely as if it were some terrible substance he ingested. Otherwise he would have never stooped to such a level. “No more games, Joe. Not one. You’ve obviously got a problem. With gambling. And it won’t stop even if you win and do pay back the money you stole.”
“Fine then,” he growled. “Tell your precious Matthew. And while you’re at it, say goodbye to Maggie and the kid. ’Cause once Matt knows the truth, we’ll be out of here on our cans.”
“No! Don’t you dare put this on my shoulders!” She wheeled around and stood in the yawning entrance of the barn.
“All right, so what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, a hard sharp pain driving through her soul.
Maggie walked along the gravel road, J.D. cuddled high on her shoulder as she pointed out the sights of the ranch she so loved to her tiny daughter.
Maggie, who had been Jaimie’s friend for ten years, who had always supported her whenever, wherever. And Jaimie acknowledged sadly that it was Maggie who’d encouraged her to find her niche in life. Not Joe. He’d been too busy telling her what a fool she was. Foolish to let Tony get away. Foolish to go through jobs like most men went through shirts.
Feeling dead inside, she turned back to her brother. “The gambling stops,” she said with such finality that Joe actually paled. “I promise you, Joe, that if you slip even once, I’ll turn you over to the sheriff myself.”
“Then you’re not going to tell him.”
“Matthew will find out,” Jaimie assured. “It’s a matter of time.” She curled the fax into a tube, her hands shaking.
“What about...you know...the money?”
How strange that he was the elder sibling, she thought absently. Crazily. Well, she was crazy from the knowledge that Matthew, in a million lifetimes, would never forgive an abuse of his trust. “I’ll take care of it.”
Joe’s eyebrows rose with disbelief. Then he must have seen something in Jaimie’s expression that convinced him to remain silent, and he nodded and left the barn. Jaimie watched her brother walk away. Maybe someday she could forgive him for what he’d done to all of them. Maybe someday Matthew would forgive her, too.
“And maybe someday the cow will jump over the moon,” she whispered.
She walked back to the big house and sat at Matthew’s desk in his office for a long while. Then, when the numbness surrounding her heart started to wear thin again, she stood and left. She had a lot to do before Matthew came home.
Matthew whistled tunelessly as he checked the trailer hitch. Satisfied, he climbed up into the truck and turned the big rig toward home.
Toward Jaimie.
He patted the p
ocket in his shirt, feeling the small, cubical outline of the tiny velvet box.
Marriage.
It boggled the mind. He was going to make Jaimie Greene, queen of the construction paper cutouts, champion of sass, his wife.
His trip to Cheyenne had taken a little longer than he’d anticipated. Not because of any problem purchasing the bull he’d been salivating over for the past year. That had gone off smooth as glass. But he’d searched through half a dozen jewelry stores before he’d found the perfect ring.
So now, it would be nearly dawn before he arrived back at the ranch. The only thing that would’ve made it more perfect, would’ve been to know that she would be sleeping in his bed when he got there. But Jaimie couldn’t very well help Maggie with the baby when she wasn’t even under the same roof with them.
His powerful headlights cut a wide swath through the night on the empty highway, and he tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel as he drove on through the night.
It was dawn when his tires finally rattled across the cattle guard of his ranch. He unloaded the cantankerous bull and unhitched the trailer. Pausing on the back steps of the big house, he looked down the road toward the foreman’s place.
He ran his palm over his bristly jaw. He would see Jaimie soon enough. He oughta clean himself up a bit before he set about proposing to her.
He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t head right on up to his bedroom and the shower. But he turned to his office first. He flipped on the lamp and sat down at the desk, absently noticing that the chair no longer squeaked.
Then he saw the long white envelope neatly situated on the center of his desk, held down by the edge of his stapler, his name printed on it. He recognized Jaimie’s writing.
Her usual style would have been to decorate the envelope with hearts or flowers. Easter bunnies, even. But only his name was marked on the front of the envelope. He picked it up and, leaning back in his now-quiet chair, slowly peeled it open.
He drew out the letter, and several copies came with it. He glanced at them, his frown growing, when he recognized the items as a fax from Wayland’s. He turned his attention to the letter.
Matthew, as you will see from the enclosed, your difficulties with Wayland’s wasn’t a clerical mix-up. If only it had been. I pray that you’ll be lenient with Joe, if only for Maggie’s and J.D.’s sake. They are innocent victims in this whole, awful mess. As for the money that is due you, I hope that you’ll accept the enclosed check as partial retribution for the wrong that has been done to you and the Double-C.
Matthew tossed the fax copies onto the desk. A personal check fell out. Pink and blue kittens made up the background on the check. His jaw locked, and he picked it up. He swore low and harsh when he saw the amount.
Crumpling it tightly in his fist, he finished reading the letter.
Somehow, I will get you the balance. It will take me a while. I realize that Joe’s dishonesty may not have been limited to Wayland’s. though he claims it was. What’s happened is unforgivable, I understand that. I only hope, in time, that you’ll find some understanding in your heart and remember me without hatred.
The ink was smudged there. As if water had dropped on the paper. Or tears.
He shifted in the chair and made himself. finish reading. There wasn’t much left:
You are the most kind and decent man I’ve ever known. I will never regret having known you.
He sucked in a harsh breath. She’d signed it, simply, “Jaimie.”
His hands shook as he roughly spread the fax across his desk. “Bloody hell.”
Her letter in hand, he shoved back from his desk. The chair slammed into the wall behind him and tipped onto its side, but his steps didn’t falter. In minutes he was pounding on the door to Joe’s place.
Maggie opened it, her tired, red-rimmed eyes wide. “Matthew.”
“Where is she?”
“I...Jaimie? I don’t know. What’s wrong?”
Matthew pushed into the house, then felt like an ogre at the way Maggie scurried out of his way. Jaimie was right. Maggie was an innocent victim in all this. He dragged his careening emotions in with an iron grip. He lifted his hand, gently. “It’s all right. I just need to know where she’s gone. How long ago she left.”
Maggie pushed her hand through her hair, reminding him strongly of Jaimie. “I don’t know. She was here earlier. But when I woke up with J.D. this morning, she was gone.” Maggie’s eyes met his. “I thought she’d gone over to be with you,” she said softly.
“You’ve been crying,” Matthew said abruptly.
She flushed. “I—”
“If it’s not about Jaimie, then why?”
She hesitated. Tightened the belt of her robe. “Joe. He, urn, took off early this morning. I don’t know where he is.” Her throat worked. “Some of his clothes are missing.”
I’ll bet. Jaimie takes care of Joe’s mess and he gets while the going’s good. Matthew kept the thought to himself. If he’d opened his eyes to his foreman’s behavior a long time ago, perhaps none of this would now be happening. He tugged Maggie over to the couch. “Sit down,” he said as gently as he could. “Is J.D. sleeping?”
She nodded. Her slender fingers worked the edge of her thick terry robe. “Why are you looking for Jaimie?”
If Joe really had split, then who would tell Maggie the truth? He’d left his sister to clean up the mess he’d created with Wayland’s. Had he deserted his wife and newborn daughter as well? He stifled an oath and sat down beside Maggie. For the life of him, he didn’t know what to say to her.
A soft snuffle heralded J.D.’s morning awakening. Maggie hopped up and went into the second bedroom. The bedroom that Jaimie had used. When she returned, she held the baby cradled to her shoulder. “Matthew,” she said, her voice small but steady. “All of Jaimie’s things are gone.”
This time he didn’t stifle his oath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered when he shoved to his feet.
She just stared at him. “I don’t understand any of this. Why would they leave? I mean, Joe—” She broke off, clearing her throat. “Jaimie said...well I thought you two...”
“I thought so, too,” he muttered. The jeweler’s box weighed like a stone in his shirt pocket.
“Do you think they’re together?” she finally ventured.
“No.” Matthew knew it with every bone in his body. J.D. made a soft sound, and Maggie kissed the top of the baby’s head. Just as he knew with every bone in his body that he would never turn Maggie and her child away from the Double-C.
Joe, now, was another matter entirely. And something he would handle eventually.
“I have to find Jaimie,” he muttered.
Maggie moistened her lips. She sat down in the side chair, situating J.D. in her lap. “That day care job,” she murmured. “She doesn’t start for at least a week, but maybe she’s gone there.”
He’d already thought of that. “Does she have any savings?” He knew the answer before Maggie shook her head. “How did she get to Gillette?” He’d noticed all the ranch vehicles when he’d driven up with the trailer. All but his brother’s pickup had been parked in their usual places. And where on earth would she come up with enough money to cover a fifteen-thousand-dollar check?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken that last thought aloud until Maggie gasped.
“Matthew,” she said. “I think you’d better tell me just exactly what’s going on. There is no point trying to protect me,” she added when he hesitated. “My husband has disappeared. There’s not much worse that you can add to that.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, sitting down again on the couch. He handed her the letter that was crumpled from his tight fist. “Maybe we oughta just start with that.”
Slowly she took the sheet from him. Her shoulders slumped as she read.
He waited until later that morning before leaving Maggie alone. Not that he didn’t think she could handle the bomb that had been dropped in her lap. But he’d been nervo
us about the color that never returned to her pale cheeks. She was fresh from the hospital, with a newborn daughter to look after. If that meant that Matthew waited a few hours until Emily got free and came over to sit with Maggie, then so be it.
He met his sister-in-law outside of Maggie’s house, giving her the sketchiest details that his nerves could provide. She told him that she would stay as long as necessary and had kissed his cheek, thankfully never asking about the Cracker Jack box that he held tightly in his fist.
He’d been plagued all morning with the nightmarish thought of Jaimie hitchhiking her way back to the city. Chances were the only vehicles she’d have run into were local ranchers and truckers. But danger still existed.
He’d even gone so far as to call his neighbors, Colbys and some of the other business owners in Weaver. Bennett Ludlow, even. No one had seen Jaimie, or heard anything about a woman looking for a ride to Gillette. Or anywhere in the state, for that matter.
Matthew had tried to raise Daniel on his mobile phone, to no avail. Chances were that his brother was out tending to the stock, doing the work that Joe—blast his hide—and Matt usually shared with Daniel.
Leaving Maggie in Emily’s capable hands, he retrieved his keys and headed his Blazer toward Weaver. He had to start somewhere.
Two days later Matthew wondered if he would ever find her. He’d been hanging around the hospital in Gillette for so long that a security guard had cornered him.
He knew that Jaimie hadn’t called the day care director to say she wouldn’t be taking the job. He could have gone back to the Double-C and started untangling the complications Joe had created and bided his time until Jaimie was due to begin working at her new job. But that was assuming that she planned to show up there next week.
Frankly, he couldn’t wait that long.
Another day and a half passed before he found her. It was dumb blind luck that he spotted her at all. He’d pulled in at a service station near the hospital to gas up and go back home. He wasn’t giving up. Just regrounding himself.
The Rancher And The Redhead Page 26