“No, I should’ve let you keep shaking the guy, less than twenty-four hours since his last concussion.”
“It was mild,” Clay said as his eyes drooped from the painkillers. “’member when I passed out in football? Doc said it was the same thing. Hard hit to the belly and vasovagaled or vaso—basically lack of oxygen to my brain. You know, how Monty lives everyday.”
“Shit I forgot about that,” Miles said with a tone of concern.
“Well, I rarely get hit in the stomach, so it’s only a risk if I get in a car wreck or Hope Matthews tries to give me neck in the parking lot.”
“Wait!” Monty said putting his hands out. “Hope was going down on you?”
“No, but she sure was offering.”
“And you chose an ass whooping.” Monty hitched his thumb at Clay. “And ya’ll call me the dumb ass of the family.”
“You are the dumb ass of the family,” Clay retorted as he stumbled to the couch and laid down. “Fucking the mentally ill is only fun, if they understand the safe word and with Hope Matthews, no word or man is safe. One night with her and my dick will be the one bouncing down the street attached to a tumble weed.” Clay pulled a throw pillow from behind his head and placed it over his face. “Tap me when we’re loaded up and ready to go down the Mexico way.”
* * * *
Savannah didn’t leave that night. She used the excuse she was tired from walking and asked if it was okay if she took off first thing in the morning. Teddy said she could stay as long as she liked. At two in the morning, she was still tossing and turning in her bed.
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, Savannah opened the tin of mint tea and heated up some water. Maybe she should have looked for chamomile instead, but mint didn’t have caffeine, so at least it was a safe bet. She bobbed her tea bag in and out of the hot water until the smell of mint filled the air. Pulling on her boots, she found a zip up hoodie by the door before she scooped it up and took her tea outside. With no clouds, all she saw were stars for miles. It was like when she went to the planetarium as a kid.
The lights flickered in the heavens and even though she knew better, she decided one of those flickering lights was Conrad Winston and she was going to talk to him. “Connie I don’t know what to believe,” she said to the sky before taking a long sip of the warm tea. Heat crept down her throat and seemed to shoot through her veins. “My mom is the only person I’ve ever had in my life and for a moment, I had you. Were you just that in love with my mom, you were willing to take a chance on me? I’m not much to bank on you know. Got any words of wisdom you’d like to impart on me? Like why you’d give a complete stranger your house. Even if you thought I was your kid?”
Savannah continued to sip on her tea and walk around the dusty entryway. Kicking a loose rock or two as she tried to make sense of how she could walk so far and for so long and not be exhausted. Instead, her mind was humming and she wondered if she’d ever be able to quiet it.
A horse whined from the barn and Savannah decided to check on Maggie. It was dark with only the light of the moon showing through the now open door to light the way, but she knew it well. She’d explored this part of the ranch. The barn, the house, the outbuildings. She wasn’t going to venture far on the property, but right here felt good. It was safe and when she got to Maggie’s stall, she was standing behind the bars they used to lock the upper part of her stall. Savannah unlatched it and Maggie stuck her head out to nuzzle against Savannah’s neck and cheek.
“She’s so old,” Teddy said in the quiet.
Startled, Savannah jumped.
“Sorry, I thought you heard me.”
“I didn’t.”
“God, she’s almost thirty now. Older than you. Connie loved that horse. Said they were linked somehow. Maggie always knew what he needed and why. She’d take him on long rides and he’d end up working out what was troubling him.”
“Maybe it’s not the horse,” Savannah said as she scratched between Maggie’s ears. “Clay took me on one of those rides. Clear your head and all.”
“Take her out,” Teddy suggested. “I’ll saddle her for you.”
“No, I’m leaving in the morning.”
“It is morning. You never said how you were going. Last I heard, your car is at the Hard Root. Maybe Maggie will take you there, or she’ll take you where you need to be.”
“Trying to send me off to my death in the desert?”
“Nope,” Teddy replied as she patted Maggie’s neck. “Maggie would never do that to you. And I think you still have some unfinished business to handle here.”
“Unfinished business?” Savannah asked. “I have no idea—”
“You and that Long boy were getting mighty close.”
“Clay, no,” Savannah denied shaking her head. “He’s not anyone special. Besides, he lives here and doesn’t want anything else.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing,” Teddy said. “I forced myself to want something else because that’s what I was supposed to do. Go out conquer the world. Savannah have you ever wondered why I’m not at home with my kids and husband?”
“I saw the divorce papers. I’m just wondering why he’s got the kids.”
“I didn’t want to upset their routine of school,” she confessed. “His idea really and now, I’m stuck with it. Choices huh, we always think we’re making the right ones.”
“You’ll get them back,” Savannah said.
“If I can find a job, house and make sure they’re not in day care any more than they were before.”
“You’ll saddle her for me? Is it okay to ride at night?”
“She’s awake, and like I said…” With a loud metallic clack, Teddy opened Maggie’s stall. “…She’ll lead you where you need to go. It will be good for her to get a nice long ride in. If Patty gets the ranch, he’ll put her down and claim her as a loss of goods for the lawsuit.”
With in a half hour, Savannah was riding Maggie along the open ranch. With no livestock left, the only danger were predators at night, but Teddy assured Savannah it would be safe and if she felt lost to find a fence and follow it back to the house.
“Maggie,” Savannah whispered in prayer as she leaned in and stroked her mane. “Take me home.”
Maggie’s trot soon turned into a bit of a gallop, at least the best a thirty year old horse could handle. Along the fence line, Maggie did exactly what Teddy said she would. She took her home.
* * * *
Pops and sizzles woke Clay from his night on the couch. Not what he expected would. He thought a violent shaking from Monty would wake him enough to get him out the door and to the truck, so they could go to kill Julio, or maim, it was still yet to be determined, last he knew. No instead, he was once again waking to the smell of bacon. Tossing his pillow to the side, he rubbed his face only to come up cussing when he hit a bruise.
“We getting protein for power,” he called to the mystery cook, he assumed Sunny since he’d actually lived outside of his mother’s house at one time. “Everyone up?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Savannah said as she placed a plate on the kitchen table. “But since I saw you sleeping on the couch, I wasn’t about to look for trouble in the bedroom.”
Clay got up and eyed the plate on the table. Bacon, of which Savannah snatched a piece while he watched, along with burnt eggs and a cup of coffee. “How’da get here?” he asked looking out the front window to see the same vehicles that had been there the night before. “You weren’t being a damn fool and walking by yourself were you?” She could have been killed and not found for months if even then. Damn this woman and her stupid ways.
“Maggie’s tied up out back.” This time, she took bacon from the paper towel by the stove. “Funny thing is, I told her to take me home. Now that animal is nearly thirty years old and she came here. Why you think that is?”
“Dementia.” Clay wasn’t about to eat Savannah’s cooking. Not on his life and not because it wasn’t good, but he wasn’t going to let some woman ba
t his heart back and forth like a ping pong ball.
“Could be, Teddy told me that Maggie and Connie had some sort of animal human bond thing. She thinks Connie’s in that horse somehow.”
“Then Connie doesn’t remember where his home is.”
“I didn’t ask Maggie to bring me to her home,” Savannah explained as she put her hand out to Clay. He took it and she led him to the table where he sat. “I asked her to take me to my home. When I saw that creek we walked alongside it until we came to this cabin.”
“You don’t say.” Clay bit back a smile, even though every bit of him tingled.
“Yes sir, now true enough I do own the Winston’s ranch until Patty pulls some shit, but I have an idea about that ranch.”
“I said I didn’t care about the ranch. I don’t want it—I want—” Clay bit back again, before saying he wanted the woman he loved.
Savannah placed her finger over his lips to silence him.
Still, all he could think of doing was sucking it.
“Teddy’s getting a divorce,” Savannah paused for a moment to remove her finger and snatch another piece of bacon off his plate. “She needs a place to stay and I don’t want the ranch. I’m going to check with Dean in a few hours to sign it over to her. Let her get the lawsuit money.”
She bit down on the slice of bacon and once again, Clay met her half way. Their lips brushed before she pulled back and stared at him. “I have nothing to my name except a piece of crap car and if Carolyn will still have me at a job where tips are good at least twice a month.”
Clay pulled her off the chair, onto his lap and into his arms. “You have something better than your piece of shit car to offer me.”
“What’s that?” she asked as her arms wrapped around his neck.
“You.”
The Last Laugh
Book Three
The Long Ranch Series
Releasing Spring 2016
Chapter One
The gold band of Harper Maxwell’s wedding ring spun on the parquet counter top at the Good Eats Diner in Tender Root, New Mexico. She had balanced it on its side then flicked it, so the gold hit a speed to blur out all definition. Ain’t it the truth about love and marriage. A blur where you missed all the nicks, scrapes and damage. The ball of glowing metal began to slow down and the rocking started until with a ting. it settled and stopped.
“That bad huh?” the plump waitress asked while refilling Harper’s mug of coffee. The waitress’ pale blue uniform was a throwback to an era Harper thought only existed in movies from the seventies and places Dean from Supernatural searched out pies from.
“I suppose it’s stupid to keep wearing it,” Harper confessed while slipping the band of gold on the third finger of her left hand. “My finger itches if it’s not there, you know?”
“Cheap gold?” the waitress laughed as she laid a check on the counter and went to refill another patron’s cup.
Sherriff Bertrum Rust entered the diner with a ring of bells from the door with a few pleasantries from the patrons and staff.
The waitress, that Harper noticed had a tag identifying her as Myrna, pulled a clean mug from under the counter and a cruller from a display plate. When Sherriff Rust sat down next to Harper, Myrna raised an eyebrow before placing the Sherriff’s regular breakfast before him.
“Come here a lot?” Harper asked.
Myrna held in a small chuckle.
“Oh, a few times a day. Lunch is better, they have a patty melt that’s good enough for your boyfriend.” Bert pushed the empty pie plate in front of Harper toward the back of the counter and Myrna cleared it as she passed. “How far into your Netflix queue are you?”
“Season three,” Harper sighed as she rested her head on her upturned palm. “I need a bit of other worlds with sarcasm. So kill me.”
“But it has to be the third time you’ve gone through the series since I’ve known you.”
“Point being?” Harper asked as she took a sip of the tart coffee. She’d forgotten to add cream and sugar to make it palatable. Cowboys must have a different appreciation for the java bean than she could ever understand.
Bertrum Rust had been a rookie cop transporting a prisoner when they first met six years ago. Since then, her job as a prosecutor had moved her from petty crap like shoplifting and misdemeanors only created to collect fees. Now, she was entering the world of capital crimes and Bertrum needed her help, not that she minded helping the tall cop that was too young to be a Sherriff. With striking features and broad shoulders, he wore the uniform well, but he was a teddy bear she could never see in a fight.
“I need to know everything you know about extradition,” he said as he bit into his pastry.
“Planning on committing a crime?” She teased.
“You seen the paperwork for the Conrad Winston murder right?”
Harper thought of the files full of cases in various stages sitting back on her desk. Conrad Winston had been killed on his ranch a few months ago. They’d charged a Julio Vasquez in absentia after a second victim he’d assaulted woke from a coma and positively identified him. “Pretty open and shut from what I recall. Aside from the fact, you don’t have him in custody. That about to change?”
“Hopefully. We’ve gotten a handful of leads, but I need your help to speed up the process. You got any friends across the border?”
“Less than a handful, and friend isn’t the word I’d use.”
“But you could tap them if you needed to, right?”
“Outside of public outrage, why the rush?”
“I have a feeling some friends of mine might go all vigilante on him and well…I wouldn’t have the heart to charge them with torture and murder.”
“You trying to keep that whole superhero cape from getting wrinkled?” she asked as she tweaked his nose. “That’s sweet, but it’s not your place to stop people from bein’ stupid.”
“Will you help me or not?”
“Is Mr. Vasquez in jail?”
Bert took another bite and glanced over his shoulder as if to check if someone was listening. He swallowed hard then faced Harper.
Oh yes, this was going to be harder than she thought.
“I’ll need you to help with that too. I’ve sent the warrant to the police in the town where he’s hiding out. They say he doesn’t match the description.”
Harper leaned in close and asked in a hushed whisper, “Then how do you know it’s him?”
“Federated Gas owns the town, he was on orders from them. They are protecting him from prosecution because they’d be implicated.”
“They’re the largest energy company in the state.”
“Why do you think I made sure his file dropped on your desk?”
“Setting me up, huh?”
“Since day one.” A crooked smiled crossed his lips. “Harp I need you on this one. Families I grew up with were hurt. The mood in town is bad. We may not be here long. We’re barely a one horse town as it is. The ranches start failing and everything in town will.”
Harper looked around the Good Eats Diner. In the corner booth was a little girl standing on the bench as she entertained her family. Three other booths had older ranchers probably retired but still willing to stand by the gate and order their younger compatriots on the right way to do things.
“You know I’m not one for conspiracy theories,” Harper lied. “Why wouldn’t Federated just say Julio Vasquez made up his own orders? I doubt Federated said to kill the rancher.”
“Melody Long figured out they were manipulating Conrad Winston into absorbing land that they’d damaged. But there’s something more, I can feel it. Harper this shit town isn’t much, but it’s home to a lot of people I care about.”
“I have some vacation time saved up.” Harper absently spun the ring on her third finger. “How ‘bout you? I’m sure a hundred miles south of here will be a bit warmer.”
* * * *
Food was the last thing Montgomery Long expected to smell when he wok
e up. Staying at his cousin Clayton’s, instead of his home where his mother made sure everyone had a good breakfast before they went off to work on their ranch.
Clay’s place was the cabin at the edge of the Long Ranch. A property built by their family year by year since his too many greats to count grandfather was freed from slavery.
Rolling over in the old queen size bed, Monty smacked his brother Miles. He returned the act with a punch to Monty’s gut that caused him to curl into a ball and roll to his side. Monty had honestly forgotten about him. The last time Monty slept in the cabin, his bedmate had been snuggled up against him and was a few shades lighter with longer hair, softer skin and hips that wouldn’t quit. He’d been able to avoid sharing a bed with Miles outside of a family trip to Mount Rushmore when they were kids.
“Is that bacon?” Miles grumbled as he ran his hand over his face.
“Smells like it,” Monty replied.
“Good, that means the punching bag woke up and is ready to go. Have you figured out in your genius plan, how we’re going to explain just taking off? Something tells me old Walt isn’t going to just smile and say, have fun while he takes on the work of four ranch hands.”
“That’s nothing.” Monty laughed. “Sunny is going to have to tell Melody he’s not going to be around for a few days without telling her why.”
The brothers shared a knowing look about their sister’s wrath. Sunshine Parker, her soon to be betrothed, was screwed. A thump outside their room told them Sunny had woken up too. The power of bacon was amazing, the gateway meat for the strongest of vegans, at least that’s what Monty learned when he was at college.
‘We really going to do this?” Miles asked. All the Longs were raised to fight when necessary, but Miles had a steadiness about him Monty never needed. Nothing like having Jiminy Cricket for a big brother, but this was different, this wasn’t Monty taking out a guy for calling him a name. No this was personal. Their sister had almost died at the hands of Julio Vasquez and that had a sting that never dulled.
The Last to Know Page 14