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Honest Horseman (River's End Ranch Book 5)

Page 7

by Cindy Caldwell


  “Well, shoot, no. I mean, we didn’t talk, like talk.”

  “What other kind of talk is there?”

  He shot her a glance and turned back out the window. “I’m not a great talker, Jaclyn. That should come as no surprise.”

  “No, but you’re a great listener. Did she say anything that you might have wanted to hear?”

  He hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, actually, she did. She said she was sorry.”

  Jaclyn smiled broadly and clapped her hands together. Her eyes twinkled as she stood and crossed over to Wyatt.

  “Oh, that’s delightful. You know, she was very concerned and hoped that she’d have the chance to do that. I’m so glad you let her. What did you say?”

  He frowned at her and rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t say anything. I don’t think I did, anyway.”

  Jaclyn folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Huh.”

  He shifted from boot to boot and held his hat behind his back. “What was I supposed to say? She did something awful, and I’m just supposed to tell her it was no problem?”

  “Wyatt Weston, I’m going to say something your mother would say if she were here. She’d want me to.”

  He stifled a groan but stood respectfully, waiting for what was coming.

  “You never know why people do what they do unless you ask. And then listen to the answer. The whole answer. You may have a rocky patch or two, but if you love someone—”

  He looked up and took a step back. Love? Jaclyn seemed to be a little ahead of herself. He’d not mentioned love, and he was sure Belinda wouldn’t have, either.

  She smiled softly at him and rested her hand on his arm. “Thanks for listening, Wyatt. You did better than ever. Didn’t run out the door with your hair on fire as quickly as you normally would. Maybe you know I’m right,” she said as she opened the door for him.

  He took a quick look at her and nodded thanks before donning his hat and stepping out. He shooed the rabbits away from the gate and left.

  He was almost to the Copper Cottage before he realized he’d forgotten the coffee he was going to take to Belinda. He hesitated a moment, set to go back and get it. But he really didn’t want to talk to Jaclyn again, and after their conversation, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to talk to Belinda.

  He pulled his hat down over his eyes, dipped his head and turned toward the stables. He’d have to give her the evidence bag another time. He was certain it could wait until he could think this through.

  Chapter 15

  Belinda tromped through the reeds at the side of the lake, pacing as she checked her phone yet again. Nothing.

  She rammed it in her back pocket and shoved her hands in her front ones as she looked out over the lake. Pain shot through her hand but she paced faster, her stomach in knots. She’d gone to the lake as soon as she’d woken up and realized that her Aunt Meg had never called her back. She hadn’t even made coffee, and she sure could use a cup—or ten.

  She’d called as soon as she’d gotten back from the restaurant with Wyatt, but she’d had to leave a message. She knew he’d wondered why she’d had such a strong reaction to that darn pocket knife but he hadn’t brought it up again, and she was grateful. Her mind still spun with possibilities, almost so many she was dizzy. How had it gotten there? And when?

  Her stomach had dropped straight to the floor when she’d seen the familiar turquoise inlay on the knife. She hadn’t even needed to see her brother’s initials on it to know it was the one their grandfather had given him for his birthday, before their parents had died.

  It had crossed her mind briefly to tell him—but only briefly. They’d just started talking again, and he’d been so sweet and caring with her wound. He’d even carried her into bed and thrown a blanket over her. She couldn’t bear the thought of bringing up the subject of her brother, who’d been an elephant in the room almost their entire relationship, and the reason for its demise.

  She plopped down on a bench beside the lake, willing her phone to ring. She’d sent Hank to her Aunt Meg when the first poaching incident came to light. Hank had sworn to her that he hadn’t done it, although Wyatt was positive that he had. He’d lived with her to finish up high school after their parents died and she felt responsible for him—couldn’t imagine he could do such a thing, anyway.

  Not something like that, at River’s End Ranch where she worked. So she’d chosen to believe him and sent him to Arizona to live with their relatives. She only hoped that Aunt Meg would call and tell her he was still there, right in front of her. Then maybe she could breathe again.

  She jumped when her phone rang and she grabbed it from her pocket as fast as she could, letting out a gush of breath when she saw Aunt Meg’s name on the display.

  “Hello? Aunt Meg?” she said as she caught her breath.

  “Hello, honey, is that you?” her aunt said and Belinda fought against rolling her eyes, even though her aunt couldn’t see her. She was incredibly sweet, if a little slow sometimes.

  “Yes, Aunt Meg, it’s me.”

  “Oh, how wonderful to hear from you. It’s been such a long time and I’ve been meaning to call you. You know, Hank never answers his phone, so I wanted to ask you how he’s doing.”

  Belinda hadn’t realized she’d been pacing again until she stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Me? Why would you ask me?” she said slowly, her heart thudding in her chest.

  “Oh, don’t tease me, you little scamp,” she said. “You’re such a clever girl. You always get me.”

  “No, I’m serious, Aunt Meg. Why would you ask me?”

  Her aunt paused. “All right. I’ll play along. Because you asked him to come visit. He was so excited, he packed and left straight away.”

  Belinda sat down slowly on the bench, the lake swimming before her eyes. “Oh, right. When did he leave?” she managed, struggling to get air in her lungs.

  “Well, it wouldn’t have taken him long to get there, so the day he arrived at your place. It’s been at least a week now, maybe two. Are the two of you enjoying your time together? It’s been so long. You must have been thrilled to see him.”

  Belinda dropped her phone and her head fell between her knees as she gulped air. As she caught her breath, she heard, “Belinda? Honey? Are you there?”

  She reached for her phone and brought it to her ear. “Yes, Aunt Meg, I’m here,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen him. Didn’t know he was coming. He wasn’t invited.”

  “Oh, dear. I don’t understand that at all. He was so excited. I wonder where he is?”

  “So do I,” Belinda said as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing.

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up, sweetheart. Do tell him I said hello. He’s been doing pretty well here, except he got in with maybe a rough crowd and has been home late some nights lately. He’s been looking for a job, you know.”

  Belinda sighed as she told her aunt she loved her and ended the call. She promised to let her know when she heard from Hank, which couldn’t be soon enough. Her head spun with the possibilities that were now—well, possible. She dialed Hank’s number and groaned when it went straight to voicemail.

  “Hank, it’s your sister. Call me immediately when you get this message. And I mean immediately.”

  She stood abruptly and looked over toward the stables. Wyatt. She had to tell him. He had to hear it from her.

  The lakefront reeds crumpled under her feet as she trudged toward the stables.

  “Hey, Belinda,” Wyatt’s brother Will said, a pretty lady following along behind him. They both gave her a bright smile and she tried to return it, but she didn’t feel like it. In fact, she felt like digging a hole in the mud and crawling in it.

  After what had happened between her and Wyatt before, though, that wasn’t an option. She’d come to clean up her mess and she aimed to do it.

  She’d walked as fast as she could to the stable, and she leaned against the
wall before she went in to try to catch her breath. She wanted to make sure she broke this to Wyatt calmly. There actually wasn’t much to tell him other than her brother was in Idaho. Didn’t mean he’d done anything wrong, although she imagined Wyatt would jump to that conclusion. And she guessed she sort of had on her own, but she was positive that Hank wouldn’t do anything to hurt her again. Not after last time.

  She reached for the handle of the barn but stepped back as she heard Wade’s voice just inside.

  “So, how did the trip go?” he asked.

  “Pretty well, except Belinda got hurt,” Wyatt replied.

  She should have just gone in and answered his questions with Wyatt, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell Wade, too, about Hank without telling Wyatt first. She stepped back into the shadows and willed her feet to take her back to the cottage and come back later, but they wouldn’t.

  “Oh? Is she all right?” Wade asked, concern in his voice.

  “I think so. I’m going to go check on her here in a little bit, after I get the horses situated. She’s cataloguing evidence and I have some to take her, some that Glen and I found.”

  “Great,” Wade said. “Just keep me posted.”

  “Will do,” Wyatt said.

  She moved around the corner of the barn so Wade wouldn’t see her when he left, but he didn’t come out.

  “You seem happy, Wyatt,” he said, and she could imagine the look of surprise on Wyatt’s face.

  “I do? Well, I guess I am. Belinda and I were able to talk a bit and I have to say, it’s nice to see her.”

  She heard the sound of Wade clapping Wyatt on the back. “That’s good to hear, too, brother. Keep me posted on that one,” he said as he pushed open the door.

  “Hi, Belinda,” he said as he noticed her and held the door open, gesturing for her to enter. He looked back at Wyatt and winked. “We were just talking about you. Good luck to you both on this investigation.”

  Her stomach churned as she smiled at Wade and peered inside the barn. Wyatt smiled widely and gestured for her to come in.

  “Good morning,” he said as he stepped toward her. She couldn’t meet his eyes and took a step back.

  He frowned and said, “You all right? Your hand hurt?”

  She glanced at her hand. Compared to her heart, her hand felt perfect. She looked at Wyatt, his eyes trusting. She couldn’t bring herself to cause any upset. Maybe it would be better to wait until she’d talked to Hank and really knew something. Right now, she wasn’t even sure what was going on, or what part of Idaho he was in. At least that’s what she told herself before she said, “Yes, I’m fine. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be cataloguing this morning, but if you want to come over for lunch, I can open a can of beans.”

  Wyatt laughed, and the knot in her stomach eased a bit. She was sure this was the right decision, and she’d have more to tell him then. A better picture, and they could make a plan if they needed to. She hoped so, anyway, as she headed back to the cottage to start her search for Hank.

  Chapter 16

  “Dani back yet?” Wyatt asked as he closed the door of the cafe behind him.

  Kelsi looked up from the counter she was wiping down and smiled. “Hey, big brother. No, she’s not back yet,” she said as she set a cup of coffee down in front of him as he leaned his elbows on the counter.

  “Hm. Thought she was going to be back this morning.” He blew on his coffee before he took a sip and closed his eyes. Kelsi’s coffee was almost as good as his own.

  It had taken him longer than he’d thought it would to look after the horses and arrange trail schedules for the coming weeks and by the time he looked at the clock, it was almost two. Belinda hadn’t called but she had to be hungry by now, and he didn’t even want to open a can of beans. The cafe wasn’t closed yet, so he was hoping his little sister might rustle up something he could take over, and they could relax and eat. Maybe she’d let him know what she’d found.

  “I thought she was, too, but she let me know it might be a little longer. Said all that gunfire up on the ridge caused a little mudslide and they thought some people might be up there.”

  Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Guess we got out of there just in time yesterday,” he said, setting his coffee on the counter and sliding it toward Kelsi for a refill.

  “I can’t imagine who’d be dumb enough to do that up there after so much rain. But it’s been going on for several days, so no reason to think whoever’s up there has half a brain anyway,” she said as she refilled his cup.

  “Correct,” he said as he walked to the window and looked up at the west ridge.

  “Did you find much about the poachers? Guess you didn’t run into them and that’s a good thing. Could be dangerous.”

  “We found a few things, not a ton,” he said as he took a seat at the counter, wincing as the bag of evidence poked him in the thigh. He reached for it and took it out, tossing it on the counter as Kelsi headed back to the kitchen.

  “Think you could make me a couple sandwiches or something? I’d like to take something to Belinda. She hurt her hand.”

  He heard Kelsi laughing from all the way in the back of the kitchen. She poked her head in the pass-through. “Like she could cook anything but enchiladas if she hadn’t,” she said and winked at Wyatt. Yeah, that was true. Neither one of them were very good cooks, or had much interest in it. Back in the day, he’d wondered whether their children would starve to death if they’d ever gotten married.

  “Guess you’re right about that. So can you help a guy out?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at his sister.

  She laughed as she reached for some bread over the pass-through. “What’s gotten into you, Wyatt? You’re almost acting—well, like me.”

  “Heaven forbid,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Guess I’m just happy.”

  “Ham, wonder what the reason for that is,” she said.

  “Not exactly sure,” he said, although he was pretty positive it had something to do with Belinda.

  He sipped at his coffee as she wrapped up a bag for him.

  “Want some root beer to go? I have some bottles,” she said as she pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

  “Sure, that’d be great.”

  She set the bag down on the counter and reached into the cooler for two bottles of root beer. She opened the bag and set them in, sliding it toward Wyatt.

  “What’s that?” she said as she picked up his mug, the bag of evidence right beside it.

  “That’s the evidence Glen and I found when we were up on the ridge. I’m taking it to Belinda.”

  “Can I see?” she asked as she reached out her hand.

  He slid the bag toward Kelsi as she narrowed her eyes and looked at it more closely. “Sure, just don’t open it. Fingerprints,” he said.

  “I know that. I’m married to the sheriff, you know,” she said with a sigh.

  She turned the bag over in her hands. “This is a very distinctive knife. Not so much the shells, but I’ve seen this knife before.”

  “You have?” he said, his eyebrows raised. “Where?”

  “I’m not quite sure.” She set the bag down on the counter, spreading the clear plastic more tightly over the turquoise inlay of the knife. Then she turned it over and did same, peering closely at the other side.

  “Has Belinda seen this?” she asked as she stepped back and leaned against the opposite counter, her eyes not leaving the bag.

  “Yeah, I showed her last night. She didn’t take it, though. I think she forgot. I’m taking it over to her now, with the sandwiches.”

  “Okay, good. I remember where I saw it, Wyatt.” She turned her back to him and grabbed a towel, wiping down the outside of the coffee maker as she got ready to close.

  “Well, you gonna tell me?” he said with a frown. “It could help with the investigation.”

  Kelsi set down the towel and turned toward her brother. “I think you should ask Belinda,” she said as she avoided
his gaze. She knew something, he could feel it. She usually told everybody everything, and now it was like pulling teeth to get one tiny piece of information out of her.

  “Come on, Kelsi. I’ll ask her, but she might not know. If you do, you have to tell me.”

  “Oh, she knows all right. I’m sure of it.” She walked over and grabbed some napkins out of the holder and put them in Wyatt’s bag. She rolled down the top and held it out to him.

  He took it slowly as he stood, reaching for his hat on the counter seat next to him.

  “Thanks. And?”

  She leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her chest.

  “You should ask Belinda, but I can tell you right now that the knife belonged to Hank Archer”

  Wyatt blinked quickly and took a step back away from the bag.

  “Hank’s knife? Are you sure?” he said slowly, almost expecting for the bag to burn a hole in the counter.

  “Yes, positive. Remember how much he used to come in to mooch food from her when she worked here all those years ago? He was really young, but he had the knife then and didn’t hesitate to show it to anybody who would stop and look. I think he got it for his sixteenth birthday or something. From their grandfather, before their parents died.” She picked up the bag and held it out to him. “See? His initials are right on it. HA.”

  His head reeled as he took in the information. Of course Belinda would have known that. No wonder she turned white as a ghost. And if the knife was up on the ridge, then that meant—he couldn’t even go there.

  His breath hitched as he took the bag from her and stuffed it in his pocket and his heart thudded in his chest, the sound almost deafening. So loud, he could barely hear Kelsi say, “I’m sorry, Wyatt,” before he grabbed the bag of food and stalked out of the cafe.

  Chapter 17

 

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