Silence greeted him.
“Come on, Marisol. Mrs. Strockmeyer has some fresh brownies in the kitchen. Come on out and we can have a few and talk about this.”
Brownies were her absolute favorite, but even they didn’t draw a reaction. It had to be worse than he dreaded.
“Marisol?”
Worry poked a cold hard finger at his belly. Though he usually respected her privacy, his concern overrode that and he opened the door. Instead of finding her sulking on her bed, the room was empty.
The window behind her dresser was wide open, curtains blowing inward gently from the breeze that rolled in off the prairie. A distant roll of thunder accompanied the breeze.
“Damn,” he muttered and left the room. Where in the world would she have gone?
In the kitchen, Mrs. Strockmeyer, a portly woman in her late sixties, prepared dinner, singing softly to herself.
“Have you seen Marisol come through?”
The woman looked up, startled. “No, haven’t heard a peep from her since she came home.”
She would have to pass the kitchen to get out of her room. If she left by conventional means. She had climbed out the window. Thank God the room was on the first floor.
“She must be out at the barn,” he said, forcing his voice to remain calm,even though apprehension raged through him.
He ran down to the barn, ignoring the way the sky had darkened as if night hovered on the horizon. A storm built out there and it would be a wicked one. Inside the barn, he stopped dead in his tracks, ice mixing in with the sick that filled his belly.
Sunny’s stall was empty.
“Marisol!” he called again. Nothing but the grumbling sky greeted him.
No one was around in the yard. Hal and Frank were still out, one repairing fence and the other at the feed store in Falstad. No help.
He called Long Knife Creek Ranch. Though he hadn’t had a chance to iron things out with Jacob, he needed a search party and fast. Within ten minutes, he had help from Jacob, Thea, Jack, Lance and Becky. They’d head out on horseback or four-wheeler and Thea would take the Jeep and scour the roads. He called Quinn next. She knew the prairie like no one else and she and Piper were fast and fearless. Marisol might not want to see Quinn, but with a storm gathering itself to the northwest, Marisol might accept any helping hand.
Instead of taking his horse, Craig went out on his own four-wheeler. Before he drove out of the ranch yard, he called Hal and Frank to recruit their help too. As he drove out under the heavy sky, following a set of telltale hoof prints in the dirt, he tried to figure out how long she could’ve been gone. Not too long. They’d only been inside for about an hour. Hal had been gone for nearly that amount of time. Surely if he’d seen her ride out he would’ve said something, tried to stop her.
Okay, so how far could a relatively novice rider have gotten in under an hour? Which direction would she have gone? The hoof prints went in the direction of both Emerald and Long Knife Creek. She wouldn’t have gone to Quinn’s unless she intended to confront her, but he doubted that. Long Knife Creek? She and Robby had a bond of sorts. Maybe she wanted to commiserate with him over this whole mess.
The only other people Marisol knew in Falstad were his parents and Bonnie. Those wouldn’t be easy rides.
He put another call into Long Knife Creek. As he figured, Robby wasn’t around. No one knew where he’d gone but they’d keep an eye out for Marisol in case she slipped by the searchers and made it there.
While searching the endless terrain, the nagging worry, tinged with panic, dug into his gut a little deeper. The black sky that had settled like a beast on the prairie didn’t ease his mind or nerves. Last night the storm had kept its distance. They weren’t going to be so lucky this time. This particular thunderstorm was grinding slowly across the land straight for them. He needed to find her and get her to safety. With each passing moment panic lurched closer and closer to the surface.
Fear mingled with anger. Anger at himself that this even had a chance to occur. If he and Quinn had been upfront with his daughter in the first place then she wouldn’t have been out here. Of course, she would be upset, especially if she witnessed the little show the night before. If only they’d thought ahead, he and Quinn.
Not that he regretted falling in love with the woman. That wouldn’t change. She represented everything he wanted. Marisol would come around to see that, but damn it all, it had been her right to find out from him, easing her into the idea he had to move on. Never had he imagined, the knowledge would bring them to this moment. Thunder drowned out the sound of the four-wheeler’s engine.
Fifteen minutes later, he still saw no sign of her. The hoof prints she’d left behind all too soon disappeared into the grass, leaving no indication of direction, except she’d started out heading eastward, toward Long Knife Creek. He continued in that direction, hoping someone from one of the other ranches found her.
His worry mounted with sickening speed and weight. God, he’d let her down. He’d let Elise down. He’d promised her he’d never let harm befall their child, yet here he was, trying to find her on this vast prairie while a storm pressed down on them with relentless force. It let itself be known with another deep rumble of thunder. Blue lightning danced in the bellies of the clouds, jumping from sky to earth with jagged, searching fingers. How long before the beast crawled on top of them?
He almost reached the Long Knife Creek fence line when he saw them. Quinn did it once more, found his daughter. He wasn’t surprised, just grateful.
Both were dismounted. As he closed the distance, he saw Marisol clutching her side as Quinn attempted to help her. Marisol wasn’t having anything to do with it. Quinn held out her hand, but Marisol knocked it away. Quinn didn’t give up even when Marisol turned her back on her. He couldn’t hear the words being said but they were heated. Neither noticed his approach, they were so wrapped up in their own drama. When he was close enough, he could see the hurt on both faces. Marisol’s mixed with hate, despair and pain, and Quinn’s with regret.
Finally they saw him, but the expressions on their faces didn’t change.
“She’s hurt,” were the first words out of Quinn’s mouth. “Took a fall off Sunny. I don’t know how bad. She couldn’t mount up again.”
Craig went to his daughter. “Let me see.” He looked at her right arm. Her shirt was covered in grass stains and ripped at the elbow.
“Stay away.” Her words were so icy cold that he drew back in surprise.
“Honey, I need to look.” He took a step closer.
“No, I don’t want you to. I want you both to stay away from me.” Her voice held fierce reproach. The sky overhead darkened with dirty charcoal-gray clouds. The storm would be over them in moments.
“Can you ride? If I get you back up onto Sunny, do you think you could get back to the barn? We can talk this out, but not here. You understand that, right?” Damn. All he wanted to do was to take her into his arms, but she wouldn’t allow that.
“I don’t think she can.” Quinn, who’d been standing away from them spoke up, took a step toward them. “I think she really hurt herself. Her ribs maybe.”
Craig swore softly. “Got your cell phone? Thea is out on with the Jeep. If she can make it, we’re not too far from the access road between the Shady H and Long Knife Creek. She can bring her there and we can take the horses back.”
“What, you’re going to leave me and go with her?” Marisol turned on him, her face dark with anger. Tears streamed down, leaving a trail in the dust that covered her cheeks.
“Honey, it’s just until we get the horses back. We’ll go to Long Knife Creek and meet you there.”
“I don’t want her around me.”
“Marisol—”
“No. No! I don’t want her. I don’t want her to be with you. Dad, how could you want someone like her after Mom? It’s not fair. You loved Mom. How can you love someone like Quinn?” Her words flew fast and frantic, catching with the sobs that wracked h
er chest.
Craig was stunned by her ferocity and the look on her face, crumpled with tears yet, with a blaze of hatred in her eyes. “Marisol—”
“Mom hasn’t even been dead for that long. Have you forgotten her?” Then she turned her attention onto Quinn. “You could never be good enough, not for my Dad. Not for me. I don’t want anything to do with you or with that horse or with this place. I hate it!”
The rage inside her shocked him. Never had he seen her like this. He went to embrace her, ward off the pain, but she slapped him away. “Please Dad, let’s go back home, to Washington. I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want it to be the two of us. Mom would never want me to live with her and she’d never ever want her to take her place.”
“Quinn’s not trying to take Mom’s place, Mar. No one would do that.”
He tried again, to reach her through her pain, to take hold of her and embrace her, even if just absorb the hurt, but again she shoved him away with her good arm. He heard her suck in her breath in pain.
“She would. Doesn’t matter to her that she’d never be good enough. Even Uncle Robby thinks that.”
Damn Robby. If he’d kept his mouth shut, they wouldn’t be here, his daughter wouldn’t be hurt and her eyes wouldn’t be filled with hot loathing directed at Quinn. Quinn who hadn’t done anything wrong bore the brunt of all this anger. He glanced back at her and grimaced. Tears streaked down her face too. She tried to hide her hurt behind a set jaw and tight lips, but he saw the pain. God, what a mess. The two women who meant the world to him were immersed in their own grief. How in the world could he set this to rights?
He turned back to Marisol. She was his priority. Quinn knew that. If he could smooth over the pain with her everything else would fall into place. “It’ll all work out,” he told her and reached out, just a hand to stroke her wet cheek. She flinched away, but he made contact and wiped away a tear, leaving a streak against her cheek. “When we get home you and I will talk about this. Right now, we need to get you to Long Knife Creek. Don’t worry. I’ll be there in no time.”
“I just want to go home. To Washington. I don’t want to run a ranch,” Marisol replied, her voice broken from tears.
Craig hadn’t realized how dark it had become until a set of headlights cut through the gloom. Thea arrived in the Jeep.
“I’m not far from the access road,” she said and pointed behind her. “It’ll be a little bumpy until we get there, but then we’ll be fine. Hey there Marisol, why don’t we get you in the Jeep so we can take you back and look at what’s going on?”
For a moment, Craig thought his daughter would refuse. Marisol tipped up her chin a fraction and gave Thea a hard look. After a moment’s hesitation, she walked by Craig without another glance and climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep, with Thea’s help. She winced as she settled and Thea pulled the seatbelt across her lap. Damn, how much pain was she in? Maybe they should take her straight to the hospital.
Thea returned, before getting back into the driver’s seat. “We’ll give her a once over. If there’s anything serious we’ll take her straight to the hospital, okay? You two get off this prairie. That storm could be holding a bit more than rain and lightning. They’ve stuck us in a tornado watch. Okay?”
Just what he needed. He nodded and followed her over to the Jeep’s passenger side where Marisol sat stonily, staring ahead, probably at nothing at all.
“I love you,” he told her. “We’ll be okay.”
She didn’t reply, just turned her gaze in another direction. Pain etched hard lines on her face. He could see her fighting against it, as if she struggled not to let him see.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he told Thea when she put the Jeep in gear.
As soon as they pulled away, the rain started. Heavy, fat drops and more loomed on the horizon, building with the thunder that rolled along the hills. He grabbed Sunny’s reins from Quinn and mounted up.
“We should make Long Knife Creek in about fifteen if we move it.”
“I’m going back to Emerald.”
Craig was about to put the horse into motion when Quinn’s words stopped him. “What are you talking about? That’s another ten minutes away.”
That stubborn look crossed her face, with furrowed brows and subtly jutting jaw. “Not for me. I can make it in twenty.”
“Don’t be foolish, Quinn, I have to go to Long Knife Creek. We need to get this straightened out.”
Quinn shook her head and mounted. Underneath her, Piper danced nervously as the rain picked up its beat. “There’s nothing to straighten out, Craig. Not now. Marisol needs you and I’m the last person who’s going to help matters.”
Even though heat from the day lingered in the air, he suddenly got a cold feeling Quinn’s words held more than she let on. More than telling him to take care of his daughter.
Damned weather. The storm was nearly on top of them and with each moment they lingered it got more dangerous. But they needed to talk. “We’re going to talk. Come back to Long Knife Creek with me. Please.”
She reined Piper in the direction that would take her back to Emerald. In one quick move, Craig whipped out his hands and grabbed Piper’s reins. If she wasn’t going to come on her own he’d damn well drag her. He had half a mind to let her do what she wanted, but he hung on to his good sense long enough for them to head in the direction Thea had gone, down to the road that would lead to Long Knife Creek. If he had to, he’d lead her the entire way.
Chapter 17
Quinn had no idea Craig Lynch could make her so blindingly, spitting mad. Rain coursed out of the sky, coming down in buckets, followed by thunder and lightning. He clung to Piper’s reins as if she was some kind of little kid who couldn’t control her own horse.
He was stubborn and couldn’t accept the fact that now was not the time to talk about their relationship. Now was not the time to get into Marisol’s face. The girl needed her father, and right now Quinn needed to be left alone. Conflict like this, fighting for the man she’d fallen totally and completely in love with wasn’t her forte, and if the storm hadn’t hit so hard, she would’ve grabbed the rein from Craig’s death grip and gone on her way back to Emerald to sulked in private. Not now, though. She wasn’t so foolish as to think she could make it back without risking Piper or herself with bodily harm.
There would be words. Hell, yes. After he took care of Marisol, she’d make sure he understood how pissed off she was.
Not necessarily at him, certainly not at Marisol. She was angry at Robby, at the damned awful timing of his finding out. Of the way things couldn’t just fall easily into place. At the fact that no one seemed to be happy for them. Marisol acted in a way totally normal for a girl in her predicament. If anything, the girl had been honest. More honest than any of them had been with her. The words spoken may have been exaggerated, said out of anger, but Quinn couldn’t discount them. Wouldn’t discount them. They were the very reason she didn’t want to be heading to Long Knife Creek. Selfish reasons, like she didn’t want to be hurt anymore, didn’t want to be under assault from this child for whom she had a strong affection.
And didn’t like the fact that each caustic word, how she would never be able to live up to the woman Elise had been, was true. She’d lived with that pain years ago and now, as silly as it seemed to worry about how people would compare her with Craig’s late wife, she felt like an ten year old again, some silly kid with a trivial crush on her brother’s best friend.
As soon as they reached the ranch yard, the storm reached full fury. Black clouds hung so low, she could all but reach up and grab a fistful from their full underbellies; somewhere ahead, not quarter of a mile, a jagged bolt of lightning struck the ground. Quinn felt the electricity in the air. Craig relinquished her reins and she dismounted while the horse was still in motion. Without missing a beat, she ran toward the barn where Lance and Jack called them in. Craig followed close on her tail.
“Damn, that one almost got you,”
Lance said with a laugh that made Quinn want to smack him upside the head.
“It was a quarter of a mile away,” she muttered and loosened the girth on Piper’s saddle.
“Hell, no. I’m talking about the one that hit behind you. Should’ve singed the horse’s tail.”
Quinn swore silently. Sure, he could laugh at it. The pinhead had the sense of humor of a twelve year old.
“Take Craig’s horse,” she told him tightly and turned to Craig. “Go up to the house. We’ll make sure Sunny is taken care of.”
Craig didn’t reply, but ducked his head and ran toward the lodge where Marisol would be.
Quinn dried Piper off, rubbing her down with towels, then walked her up and down the aisle until the mare’s sides stopped heaving and her coat was dry. Then she put her in a vacant stall. Lance did the same with Sunny. As she watched him, her mind turned to the house. What was going on up there? Was Marisol letting her father get a look at her or was she still being stubborn and angry? Damn. If only she hadn’t let her selfish desire for Craig cloud her good sense, this never would’ve happened. Marisol wouldn’t be hurt right now and they’d be home safe and sound. And she’d be doing what she wanted to do all her life. Running her ranch and concentrating on building her stock.
But no, she had to go fall in love. Again. Then try to hide it from everyone, knowing quite well someone could be hurt. Very bright.
As soon as Tuck had Sunny settled in a stall, Quinn grabbed his arm. “Can you get me out of here? I need to get back to Emerald.”
Tuck’s brows furrowed and he nodded toward the door where rain sluiced out of the sky. Another rumble of thunder battered off the aluminum barn roof, seeming to shudder right down to her bones. “Not ‘til this is done. Best if you settle in. Why don’t you go on up to the house and see how that little girl is doing?”
No, that was the last thing she should do, no matter how much she wanted to. Not yet. Give Craig a chance to smooth things over with Marisol first.
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