by Carol Devine
"You're squishing me," she said.
He readjusted his seat. "Sorry. Saddles aren't designed for two."
"I'd be happy to walk."
"I'd be happy to not. Would you mind if we went faster? I promise you won't fall off."
She did a death grip on the saddle horn. "Tell me before you take off."
"We're taking off."
The horse leaped into a lope. Mariah bit back a scream because it happened fast and they were moving fast but after the first few seconds, she began to realize that if she rocked in rhythm with the horse's head, it wasn't as scary as she first thought. Plus he had his arms on either side of her and was holding the reins, which made her feel pretty darn safe, much as she didn't want to admit it.
After fifteen minutes, she saw the towering cottonwood that stood like a sentry on Bird's half acre of land. To be heard over the sound of hooves, she yelled, "We're at the house!"
He slowed the horse to a walk. Once they made it past the tree, the house came into view.
She should have said camper because she made it a point of pride to tell the truth, especially when it was this unvarnished. The truth was, it was hardly a camper either, since the wheels were long gone. Up on blocks, it had withstood many winters and summers and still looked like a giant aluminum bread box, shiny in the sun.
A permanent awning made of sheet metal and scrap jutted out from over a wooden front door which must have come from an old outhouse because there was a half moon carved near the top.
Bird liked to sit in the shade and he'd arrayed a good number of chairs in front from his favorite pursuit, dumpster-diving. The only class around the joint was her three year-old, mid-sized SUV, the only major asset she had left in the world.
"This is where you live?"
She resigned herself to the pity in his voice. The last of her retirement funds had gone to pay for her attorney's fees, leaving her with just enough savings to start over in Grizzly Springs.
"This is where my dad lives," she said with careful emphasis. "I'm looking for my own place in town."
Shane halted the horse on a sandy strip with a few clumps of crabgrass. Mariah would have loved to leap down like a graceful Lady Godiva, but riding lessons didn't come with growing up in a camper set in the middle of nowhere. She waited for instructions.
"Is he home?"
"Not this time of day." Impatient, Mariah blew out a breath. "Can you help? I don't know how to get down."
With his long legs, he certainly had no problem getting down, achieving it in one supremely athletic move. He grabbed her waist and guided her off the horse, his hands lingering as she fought her shaky legs.
"Grew up in cattle town, Colorado, and never had a chance to ride?"
Flinching, she lifted her chin. Once she figured out a college degree was her ticket out of this dump, what the other kids in town did with their time no longer mattered. "You have your interests, I have mine. Excuse me while I change."
It was embarrassing to have to go to the SUV for her clothes, but no way was she storing anything she valued in the nicotine-drenched camper. The camper was the better place to change, however. At least she could stand and turn around and, thanks to a decent-sized mirror, clean her face.
She entered the tiny bathroom. Her reflection showed muddy green streaks on her forehead, cheeks and neck. She wiped them with the towel, scrubbing hard.
Her pale cheeks colored pink, emphasizing the strong bone structure of her face. Too much like her father's, Mariah thought. What she failed to appreciate was how her contrasting coloring softened the edges, making her eyes stand out against her dark eyebrows and the blondeness of her hair.
Mariah removed Shane's coat and socks, folding them carefully. Unknotting his stupid belt was a problem, however. She shrugged on two shirts and her down vest to make up for the fact that she didn't have another bra to wear and marched out of the camper in his jeans, his folded jacket and socks in her hands and flip flops on her feet.
She halted in front of him. "This frickin' belt won't come off. It makes me feel like I'm five."
"Hmmm," he said and untied the belt. "You're definitely not five."
She bunched the loose waistband in her fist and made a crisp about-face, blushing at his remark. Sans his belt, she returned to the camper with ramrod posture. With him watching, it turned out to be a lesson in willpower. She liked to think she pulled the whole thing off with a certain panache.
Once she got her own jeans on, she felt a great deal more like herself, which meant she didn't need help and could hardly wait to send Shane Youngblood on his way. She hummed a happy little tune, opened the door and found Shane and Bird standing in the yard, yakking.
Her humming unhappily died.
Bird waved at her, grinning, showing off his missing front teeth. His yellow and silver hair sprang on top of his head, angling every which way. The ripped buttons on his overalls meant he had to wear a rope to hold them up. His canvas high tops were devoid of laces, showing mismatched socks.
"Lookee what I found, girl, roostin' in our roost with nary a stitch on."
Avoiding him, Mariah delivered Shane's jeans. He'd already removed his boots and replaced his jacket and socks, thank god.
"I fell into the creek, Bird," she said evenly. "Shane was kind enough to lend me some clothes." She turned to him, her appreciation real. "Thanks, by the way, Shane."
Bird blinked in his typically fuzzy, unfocused way. "Look at you, talkin' nice. She ain't usually like this, Shane. Got run out of the FBI and showed up with her tail between her legs."
Shane opened his mouth to speak but Mariah beat him to it and waved him toward his horse. "Please don't bother. It's not worth arguing with a drunk."
Shane motioned for her to join him. "I'm not comfortable leaving you here with him."
Bird trailed them, leering. "Did you hear that, Mariah? It's love at first sight."
Proving she was fully in command of the situation, Mariah edged toward the horse and transferred the reins to Shane.
"I've been dealing with him for 33 years. Like I said, I'm moving to town soon."
Bird's laugh cackled with an eeriness that rankled. "She'll be happy to move right in with you, Shane. Mariah ain't one to wait for a formal invitation."
Shane didn't give Bird the courtesy of a single glance and locked his gaze on Mariah. "Maybe you should stay with me for a few days until you find your place. I've got a couple of extra bedrooms."
"Extry bedrooms? Can I come, too?"
Dead-eyed, Shane faced him. "No, you're being an asshole to your daughter and I won't stand for it." Shane nodded toward Mariah, then the SUV. "That's yours, right? Meet me at my stables in half an hour and I'll give you my key."
Mariah shook her head for emphasis. She didn't need him poking his nose where it didn't belong. She was still smarting from the betrayal and loss of her DC support system, the friends, colleagues and the profession she had held most dear. "No, thank you. You've already done enough."
"What's your phone number?"
Bird cackled again. "I been tryin' to get a hold of that myself."
Mariah lowered her voice, aiming it directly at Shane. "Your stables are open to the public, right? I'll look up the number and call you later. But I need you to leave now. This really is none of your business."
"I'm making it my business," Shane said. "Don't stay here. It's not good for you. Him, either, if you want to know the truth."
Damn, he was relentless. It triggered an impulse to lean on him, an impulse she needed to squelch. Depending on the men in her life was one reason she had to return to this god-forsaken place.
"Who died and made you king?"
Bird whistled through his teeth, applauding them both. "You got her on her high horse now, Shane. Might wanna watch out."
Shane pointed at Bird. "Shut up."
Mariah redirected the pointing, pushing Shane's arm down. "Antagonizing him doesn't help. Get on your horse and get out of here. I can handle him."
"Yes, I do, but you're not obligated to provide it. I can take care of myself."
"It's not you I'm worried about. It's him. Everyone in these parts knows Bird. If he didn't live out here in the middle of nowhere, out of sight and out of mind, he'd be in jail."
She folded her arms across her chest. "If you know so much about drunks, answer me this. If you were me, and I was arguing with you in front of your father, what would you be saying right now?"
He stared at her for a beat, those blue eyes deepening to navy, digesting her words until he reached a disgruntled understanding. He drew his horse close and mounted, contemplating her from above. "Okay, I hear you. But you better call me at the stables before dark tonight or I'll be back."
Shane spurred his horse, trailing a sand cloud behind him.
"He'll be back!" Bird said and danced an uneven jig, pretending to play his guitar. "Hoo-wee, girl, we caught us a live one today!"
CHAPTER Two
Shane couldn't find anyone who personally knew Mariah McBride until the next day, completely by accident. Dressed in his usual jeans, boots and western-style shirt, he was looking over the shoulder of his business manager, Ana Garcia, who was similarly dressed, both of them studying the cash flow summary spreadsheet, when it occurred to him that as a Grizzly Springs native, Ana might recognize the name.
"You know Bird McBride?"
Ana's espresso eyes showing utter disdain. "Doesn't everyone? I avoid him like the plague."
"I met his daughter yesterday."
Ana raised her ebony eyebrows to the point where they disappeared under her neat, ebony bangs. "Mariah's back in town?"
"Do you know her?"
"Dios mio, of course, I do. We're the same age. I'd love to see her. In high school, we were best friends."
"Best friends? You know her that well?"
"Bird did his darnedest to prevent it but growing up, Mariah was practically an orphan. Mama and Papa would have none of it. Mariah slept over at our house a lot."
"I don't remember ever seeing her. She's not the type I'd forget."
"How often were you in my house? You and my brother spent all your free time at the rodeo ring. Besides, you were long gone by the time I hit high school and that's when Mariah and I got close. Where's she living?
"With Bird at the moment."
"Uh-oh."
"That's what I thought, too. But I couldn't get her to budge. She called me last night."
"She called you?"
"For like two seconds. She thanked me for my help but basically told me to leave her alone."
"She's been going through a rough time. I hope you didn't go off on a tangent and ask a bunch of questions like you usually do. She's pretty private."
"Why would I ask questions? I've never met her before."
"Don't you follow the news?"
"What news?"
"The national news. Mariah's been on C-Span a fair amount the last few months. They've been showing clips of her, testifying before Congress, especially on the cable news networks. I've even seen some coverage on local TV."
"I've got enough on my plate dealing with the weather report. Bird said something about her being in the FBI, and losing her job."
"There was a scandal. Something about a hostage situation and federal agents getting killed. Mariah took the fall. You must be the only one in Grizzly Springs who hasn't heard about it. Since she's Bird's daughter, people are talking up a storm."
"I'm not one for sitting around, gabbing."
"Aside from you, she's the most famous person ever to come out of this town. Although, I doubt she'd want to be this famous. It's one thing to be a celebrity like you. But she was dragged before Congress. There were numerous investigations. It seemed like she'd be questioned until hell froze over. And I certainly didn't expect her to come back here. She and Bird don't get along."
"So I gathered."
One of Shane's employees popped his head inside the office door. "Billy wants you to come quick, boss. Genuine Hero's thrown a shoe. He thinks the horse is coming up lame."
"Damn, not again."
Spinning on his heel, Shane clapped his hat on his head and disappeared out the door.
* * * * *
Mariah skipped the shallow steps two at a time to get into what passed as the main public library in Grizzly Springs. Housed on Tabor Street in a square stone building that once served as the county jail a hundred years previously, it was open Monday, Wednesday and Friday for very abbreviated hours.
She paused, rereading the hand-written sign taped on the door. Three days a week, 9 to 2. Where did the geeks and brainiacs go when they needed to study? When she was in middle school, she used to come here every day just to avoid going home to Bird.
She juggled her laptop and purse and pushed her way inside, wincing as the door squeaked and groaned. Her goal today was to find suitable office space. She needed Wi-Fi access to search real estate listings and, judging from the scant amount of time the library was open, her next challenge would be to find a leasing agent who was available for more than fifteen hours a week.
In order to blend in on her first foray to town, she'd achieved her best attempt yet at Colorado casual wear: designer blue jeans and a t-shirt she'd unearthed for participating in a NYPD charity road race.
The library's interior was dank and gloomy, another bad break from the past. The last time she'd been inside had been the day of her high school graduation, when she'd come to say goodbye to Violet Penrose, the librarian who had made this place Mariah's second home. A magician with the town's scant funds, Violet had a collection of second-hand lamps on top of every shelf and was known to set up a card table outside churches on Sundays, appealing for extra money to buy books.
Today, the lamps were gone and the book collection, decimated. The desk was manned by an indifferent teenager, a greasy-faced boy with a half-shaved head, wearing a hoodie, red gauges in his earlobes and a nose ring.
"Wi-Fi's down," he said without looking up from his phone.
Mariah came to an abrupt stop. "Where else can I get it?"
He yawned, blinking at his screen. "70 miles, in Aspen."
"Are you shittin' me?"
The boy gaped at her. "Who the fuck are you?"
Mariah raised a cool eyebrow. If Violet Penrose was looking down from heaven and saw the condition of her life's work, she'd be turning in her grave. "Nobody you'd like to know."
Mariah stalked out. She halted on the sidewalk and checked the corner of Tabor and Main, hoping to spot public Wi-Fi signs. Nothing. The street was deserted at 9:45 on a Thursday morning.
She considered the Sweet Shoppe, which might be a possibility but didn't open until eleven. Aside from the General Store, the only other open places were Cordelia's Greasy Spoon, which didn't even have a computer on the premises, and Sam's Hunt and Fish, the closest thing Grizzly Springs had to a sporting goods store. In front of the store's picture window were a couple of upended wooden packing boxes with two men perched on them. They wore yellow Caterpillar caps, beefy jeans and heavy work boots, and were drinking coffee from Styrofoam cups.
She headed there. In their mid-twenties, both men touched the brim of their caps in acknowledgement as she nodded and breezed by. If they recognized her, they didn't show it.
Score one for the girl dressed in blue.
Sam's interior was one cavernous room and as gloomy as the library. Except this gloom was caused by the blocking of sunlight from the picture window. Crowded with merchandise, a rope stretched across the top of it, sagging from the weight of different types of sleeping bags, hanging like laundry. Suspended from the ceiling was a bat cave of polartec and down jackets hanging on hooks. At least they were colorful.
Horizontal rows of sporting equipment were arranged on the side and rear walls. The goods on display looked new but were bunched together in odd combinations like a
secondhand thrift store. Skis alternated with fishing rods, snowboards with canoe paddles, golf clubs with bike helmets, hockey skates with lacrosse sticks, shotguns placed high on the wall but underlined by rows of soccer and basketballs. Along the baseboards were shoe boxes, stacked to form low tables. Shoe and boot samples were arrayed on top. Mariah noted there were far more cowboy and hunting boots than running shoes.
Spanning the back wall was an old-fashioned wooden display cabinet with three modern cash registers, the high-end kind. Each was surrounded by baskets of smaller merchandise like sunglasses, pocket knives, packaged fishing hooks, flashlights, ski goggles, hand warmers and such.
The middle of the store was strangely empty, except for a small round table with a big stainless-steel coffee urn, powdered cream and canistered sugar, and a stack of upside down Styrofoam cups.
A beer-bellied man in his fifties, dressed in pressed khakis, flannel shirt, a hunting vest and camo cap, came out from behind the register area. He peered at her over his reading glasses. "You must be Bird McBride's daughter."
Mariah couldn't help the curdling of her stomach. He'd recognized her even faster than Shane Youngblood had. Maybe dickboy at the library and Mr. Sam Hunt-and-Fish were harbingers of challenges to come. She faked what she hoped was a affable smile and offered a handshake. "Yes, I'm Mariah McBride. You must be Sam?"
"Sam Adams." He shook her hand with enthusiasm. "Like the beer. Or the revolutionary. If you know the difference, you can have a free cup of coffee."
"If you have a brother named John and a sister-in-law named Abigail, I do know the difference. But what I'm really looking for is a decent Wi-Fi connection. I'd pay for a cup of coffee if you'll let me access the internet on my laptop for awhile."
"I'm connected all right. Got a high speed line. Have to, in this day and age, or the state won't let me issue hunting licenses. But I don't use the internet much. Keeping the store afloat takes most of my time."
"How much would you charge for a cup of coffee if I could use your connection, say, for a couple of hours?"
"This ain't one of those fancy gourmet coffee stores. This here is Grizzly Springs. My coffee is free for the asking. Go ahead and help yourself."