Cowboy Under Fire

by Carla Cassidy

  What about me? Are you going to miss me? He asked the questions only in his mind. “It’s going to be strange not to have the tent on the property anymore,” he said. “You managed to get the last two skeletons together pretty fast.”

  She nodded. “One of them was considerably larger than the other and that made it easier. The taller one is the one missing the skull and number five was the one missing fingers.” She looked over at the two steel gurneys that held the last two remains. “I’ve only got a few more bones to finish number seven and they’re still in the pit.”

  “Then no more missing bones?”

  “Just the skull and the fingers of the one hand on the other skeleton, that seems to be all that is missing.” She took another bite and chewed slowly, as if in deep thought.

  She drank another sip of her soda and gazed at Forest. “I’ve worked a lot of scenes in my career, but this one is going to haunt me for a long time.”

  She had no idea how long she would haunt him after she was gone. But he’d decided to keep his feelings to himself, that there was no point in speaking of love and the dreams he wished for them together.

  He cared enough about her to allow her to walk away unencumbered by his love for her. Why burden her with his desire for things that could never be...at least not with her.

  “I only hope Dillon is able to find out something from Francine Rogers. I heard she’s supposed to drive out and meet him at the police station in Bitterroot sometime tomorrow,” he said.

  “I’m not sure that identifying these victims will tell him much about the killer after all these years, but at least if he can identify them he might be able to provide some closure to their families,” she replied.

  Forest frowned. “A sad closure. I imagine most of the families of the victims either didn’t care about what happened to them, or have wondered all these years if they were alive or dead.”

  “I know you don’t have anyone wondering about you, but what about all the other men here? Do they have families someplace who might care? People who have been looking for them all of these years?” she asked and then popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth.

  “It’s hard to tell. I know in most cases, the men ran away from home or were thrown away by uncaring parents. From what I know, none of the men used an alias when they arrived here. Even though we’re an hour and a half away from Oklahoma City, I imagine if somebody looked hard enough they would have been able to find their son. I don’t know any of the men who have attempted to reconnect with family.”

  “What about Dusty? He was so young when he went out on the streets.” She wadded up the paper bag and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.

  “When I first met Dusty he had bruises on his face and arms. He complained of an earache and I suspected he had a ruptured eardrum. I thought the injuries had come from other street kids, but he’d been beaten by his father and apparently it had been happening from the time he was a toddler. He finally ran away, deciding life on the streets among strangers was better than getting beaten on a regular basis by somebody who was supposed to love him. I doubt that his father cared that he was gone.”

  “What about his mother?” she asked.

  “I don’t know anything about her. That’s the only topic that Dusty refuses to talk about with me or anyone else.”

  “You’d never know where he came from by his sunny disposition and easy smiles.” She took another drink of her soda and then added the can to the trash.

  “Cass worked hard to teach forgiveness. Dusty forgives his father, but he has no desire to reconnect with him. Dusty looks forward, not back. That’s pretty much the way we all are here. The past is gone and can’t be changed, but the future is what we choose it to be.”

  “Speaking of looking forward.” She got up from her chair and walked over to the pit. “Lunch was good, but I need to get back to work.”

  “Then I suppose I should get out of here.” Forest rose and headed toward the tent entrance but paused as she called his name.

  “Come here and see if you see what I think I’m seeing,” she said. She was once again bent over with her head nearly inside the pit.

  Curious, he moved over to stand next to her and peered into the deep, wide pit that now held only a couple of bones. “What am I looking at?” he asked.

  “There, right at the edge of the fibula bone.”

  Forest had no idea what a fibula bone was, but he was capable of following her pointing finger. “It looks like something gold and small.”

  Patience jumped down in the pit and moved the bone aside and then used her fingers to dig at the hard earth until she had the object in her hand.

  Forest helped her out of the pit, and she opened her hand to reveal the object. “A ring,” he said, stating the obvious.

  “A man’s ring,” she replied. “I need to call Dillon.”

  “I’ll call him,” Forest offered and then smiled at her. “He’s used to getting bad news from you and this could actually be good news, right?”

  She didn’t reply. She returned to her chair and sat staring at the ring, obviously completely focused on the unexpected find.

  Forest pulled out his cell phone and called Dillon. When the call was finished, he returned to the chair next to Patience and sat silently while she studied the ring carefully.

  They didn’t speak until Dillon arrived. “What now?” Dillon asked as he entered the tent.

  Patience held the ring out on her palm toward Dillon. “It was at the bottom of the pit. It could belong to one of the first victims or...”

  “It could belong to the killer,” Forest interrupted her.

  “And it’s possible that’s the reason somebody didn’t want you to get to the bottom of the pit,” Dillon replied. He took the ring from her and studied it closely. “Looks like it’s real gold with an onyx stone.”

  Forest frowned. “The odds of some kid off the streets wearing an expensive gold ring like that are pretty minimal. Street kids wouldn’t flaunt something of worth that could be stolen from them.”

  “Still, it is possible that it was worn by one of the victims,” Patience replied. “And it’s equally possible that when the killer dumped the first body the ring might have accidentally slipped off his finger and fallen into the pit with the victim.”

  “I need to get this into an evidence bag,” Dillon said. He gave a hard look to first Patience and then to Forest. “I don’t want this find mentioned to anyone—and I mean anyone. This might be the first real clue I have to work with, and I don’t want anyone else to know about it. I’m meeting with Francine tomorrow and she might remember who possessed this ring, but she’s the only person I want knowing about it.”

  “I won’t say anything to anyone,” Forest promised.

  “Mum’s the word with me, too,” Patience replied. “Besides, I intend to spend the rest of today and tomorrow morning working on final reports for you. We should be pulling out of here sometime around noon tomorrow unless something else comes up.”

  Forest doubted that anything else would come up. She had been thorough, and by noon the next day she would be packed up and gone.

  He fought the wave of grief that tried to take hold of him. He’d tried so hard to prepare himself for telling her goodbye, but no matter when it happened, it would be one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

  Dillon left the tent and Patience pointed to the pit. “I’ve still got work to finish up. I’ll see you at five.” She moved toward the pit and Forest left the tent.

  He went back to the corral and began to work with Twilight. Within a month or two she’d be a great riding horse. Although all of the cowboys had their own mounts, Cassie didn’t.

  Twilight would make a perfect horse for her by the time Forest finished up the training. He had to let Cassie know that she nee
ded to start working with the horse soon, so the two would bond and be perfect for each other.

  At least it would be a project that might take his mind off Patience’s absence, although he doubted that anything could do that.

  After dinner that evening, Patience agreed to sit outside with Forest before going to her room. This was their last night together, he thought as they settled into their chairs in the waning twilight.

  They sat silently, and as always he wondered what she was thinking. Whether she knew it or not, she’d changed during her time on the ranch.

  She’d softened, her temper appearing less often than it had initially. She’d allowed herself times of relaxation and laughter. She’d asked questions about the other men on the ranch, showing a curiosity about others that was incongruent to a loner.

  Yes, she’d changed in so many ways except how he wanted her to change most of all. She hadn’t transformed enough to want to share his dreams and his future. She still refused to discuss or even believe in love and any meaningful relationships.

  “Beautiful night,” he finally said to break the silence.

  “It’s a lovers’ sunset,” she replied and pointed to the west where the sinking sun cast vivid shades of pink and gold across the sky.

  “Yes, it is,” he replied, his heart aching as he remembered the kiss they’d shared with a colorful sunset painting the dusk.

  He wouldn’t attempt a kiss tonight. Kissing her again would hurt too much.

  “Do you have another job waiting for you when you get back to Oklahoma City?” he asked.

  “Not at the moment, but I’m sure it won’t be long and I’ll be called out for another job. In September I start lecturing at the college again.”

  “Do you enjoy interacting with the students?”

  She turned to look at him. “I really don’t have much interaction. I stand at a lectern in a huge auditorium and don’t work closely with any of the students.”

  “What happens when you’re called to a job?”

  “I have a good assistant who takes over for me with the classes,” she replied.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You actually trust somebody else to do your job for you?”

  “I make sure I have lectures ready and a thorough syllabus for the students. I don’t mind turning that job over to an assistant. It’s my work for law enforcement and with bones that I won’t turn over to anyone else.”

  He gazed at her, her features clear in the rising moonlight. “Do you have any idea how deeply I’m in love with you?” The words slipped out of his mouth unbidden and there was no way he could take them back.

  * * *

  Patience stared at him, stunned by his words and momentarily speechless. She’d been so afraid that they were getting too close and certainly she had allowed him into her heart deeper than any other person in her life. But love? She had no space for that in her heart.

  “Forest, I’m leaving tomorrow and you have your life here and I have my own in Oklahoma City. Besides, I know you want me physically. I also know you have this fanciful dream of a happily-ever-after and for some reason you’ve plugged me in to that picture.”

  His eyes narrowed and gleamed in the waning light of day. “I haven’t ‘plugged’ you in to anything. Believe it or not, there have been plenty of women before you, women who would have been happy to share my fanciful dream. But I didn’t love them the way I do you. I didn’t want them to be my future. You’re the woman I love with all my heart.”

  His words, along with his intense gaze, trembled inside her. How could she buy into what he was attempting to sell when she didn’t believe the product existed? How could she make him understand that she wasn’t meant for anything he wanted as he moved forward with his life?

  “I have a career in Oklahoma City,” she replied and felt a desperation she didn’t understand.

  “And I can pick up and buy a ranch there. I’ve got money saved up to make a move and I’d do it in the blink of an eye if it meant we’d be together.”

  “You’d really do that?” she asked. “You’d leave all of the men here, all of the relationships you’ve built over the years?”

  “In a heartbeat if it meant being with you,” he replied without hesitation.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s a moot point. You know I don’t believe in love or happily-ever-after. I will never forget how good you’ve been to me, Forest. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for protecting me, but somehow you’ve mixed up our closeness into believing that you love me.”

  He leaned toward her, his eyes glittering a sharp silver blue. “I don’t believe I’m in love with you. I know I’m in love with you, and I think if you search your heart and shove away whatever fear is inside there, you’ll realize that you love me, too.”

  “I don’t have any fear,” she protested. “I just know what I know and that is that love is a false premise based on nothing factual.”

  “Damn your facts. Damn the shell that encases your heart and keeps you from feeling,” he exclaimed.

  She sat back in her chair, as if pushed back by the force of his words and the tinge of anger that had deepened them. “I don’t have a shell around my heart.” Her face burned with the flush of an impending anger of her own. “Besides, the heart is just a muscle that pumps blood, it’s not a place where love resides.”

  “You’re right.” His flat agreement surprised her, but he continued. “We all think of love being a function of the heart, but it actually lives in our brains. It’s built on shared memories and unique connections. It is hormones and chemicals and all the things you talk about, but it’s so much more than that.”

  “It’s a fool’s notion,” she retorted. “And I don’t like this conversation.”

  “I didn’t figure you would because it’s about feelings and emotions that are so different from the anger you use as a shield.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Love doesn’t exist and that’s that.”

  “Did you learn that at your father’s knee?” he asked.

  Anger rose hotter inside her. “My father is a brilliant man.”

  “Maybe as far as book learning, but he obviously knows nothing about real life, about building dreams and loving another person so much you can’t imagine your life without them.”

  Fear simmered inside her, the fear of long-held beliefs shattered, the fear of a vulnerability she’d never experienced before. “My father didn’t want me to fall into the trap of believing in fantasies and fairy tales.” She scooted her chair away from his, allowing her anger to relieve the alien emotions that had momentarily gripped her.

  “You can’t love me because I don’t like it. I won’t allow it,” she exclaimed.

  He laughed dryly. “You can control a lot of things in your life, Patience, but you can’t control me and how I feel about you. I love you with all my heart and soul. You are the woman I want to wake up and see first thing in the morning and you’re the woman I want to hold in my arms through each night. You are the woman I want to carry my children and share with me a future filled with family and ever-lasting happiness. You can’t change my mind and you not liking it won’t change it, either.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow and I told you once, I warned you that when I left I wouldn’t look back.”

  “I don’t want you to look back,” he countered. “I want you to look forward. I want you to search your soul. I know you love me, Patience, and I know it scares you. But it’s nothing to be afraid of. Just embrace it, Patience.”

  She jumped out of her chair. She didn’t want to hear anymore, she didn’t want to see him anymore. Escape. More than anything she needed to escape as quickly as possible.

  “I’m done here,” she said and pulled her room key from her pocket.

  “Of course you are,” he sa
id with a touch of bitterness. “Run...escape...that’s what you do when you are feeling something besides anger.”

  She yanked her room key from her back pocket. “I’m not running. We just obviously don’t agree and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “I just want you to think about one thing,” he said as she headed for her door.

  She paused and looked at him warily. “What?”

  “If your father didn’t believe in love, then why did he marry your mother?”

  She stared at him wordlessly and then went into her room and slammed and locked the door behind her. She refused to think about the conversation that had just taken place.

  She headed for the shower, needing a distraction. But even standing under the warm water for almost twenty minutes couldn’t dissolve his words from her mind.

  Why had he told her what he felt for her? Why had he scrambled her brain with talk of love and children and a future with him? She’d made it crystal-clear to him from the very beginning that she didn’t do love, that she didn’t believe in binding her life with anyone. Why hadn’t he just kept his feelings to himself?

  She’d always been perfectly satisfied in her isolation, with her work as her lover and partner. Her time here at the ranch, her time shared with Forest hadn’t changed that.

  Finally she stepped out of the shower, dried off and pulled on her purple nightgown and a pair of clean panties. She got into bed and pulled out a tabloid and a new package of cheese puffs, determined not to think about what had just occurred outside with Forest.

  The tabloids were filled with news of breakups and hookups, of new “love” and divorce proceedings. Why had her father married her mother?

  The question popped unbidden into her consciousness, and she forcefully shoved it away. She didn’t want to think. She refused to feel. By tomorrow night she’d be back in her own bed in her apartment and life would continue as it had before she’d come to this special ranch and the special people of Bitterroot and the Holiday Ranch.