“Whether Jeanie’s in it or not, someone is definitely planning something,” Buffy snapped. “If they’ve got another attack planned and Jeanie knows about it, I’m going to find out. Let’s go back to the Commons.” She stood and turned to the truck.
“Wait,” Wyatt said, looking down the hill away from the Commons. “I think I know where they might be.”
Buffy caught his arm and pulled. “We’ve got to get back. I still have time to round the buffalo up and put them back in the pens. Whoever did this has obviously been watching the Commons. They might plan on striking as soon as the buff are loose. That’s now!”
“There’s a deserted house just off the edge of my property. It’s not that far from here as the crow flies. These tracks even head in that direction.”
“It’s getting dark. If we miss them, we won’t be in time to stop the attack.”
“Then we’d better hurry.” Wyatt strong-armed her into the truck.
Buffy let herself be manhandled. They disagreed on how to handle it, but they both wanted to act. “Do you have a CB in this carnival ride?”
Wyatt said grimly, “Nope. Everything else in the universe but.”
Buffy said, “Let’s get over to that house and find out if they’re there. If they’re not, I need to get back to the Commons and get those buffalo back in the pens.”
Wyatt bounced his truck down the hill. It was getting dark, and he managed to hit every rut and rock. He glanced at Buffy. “What’s the point in having a heavy-duty pickup if you don’t abuse it?”
Buffy fastened her seat belt after her head hit the roof. “Slow down. I want to get there in one piece.”
Wyatt kept pushing, and they rounded the last hillock to see the outline of a mansion in the encroaching dusk.
“Good grief, who built that?”
“We call it the Barrett Place. The old folks are dead and gone, and their kids moved to the city. My dad bought the land, but the Barrett family kept the house and a few acres around it for some reason. Sentimental, I guess. It’s falling in.”
“It’s spectacular.” The house was three stories, a Victorian dream house full of elaborate rooflines and gingerbread accents.
Wyatt drove around to a shed. Empty. “Look at the tracks. They’re definitely using this place.” He pulled up to the house, got out, and strode to the back door, which hung on one hinge. Wyatt swung the door open, and it fell flat on the floor.
“There’s no one here.” Buffy peeked over his shoulder. “Let’s go. I’ve got to get back to the Commons. And this time, I’m going to handle this without calling Leonard.”
They ran for the truck, and Wyatt drove like a madman.
Buffy rubbed a hand over her face and tried to deny the possibility that her sister had sold her out to a stranger who offered her a strong shoulder.
Twelve
“Here he comes. The moron didn’t even turn his headlights off until just a minute ago.” Wolf wired the last pen shut on the secured buffalo. He sent the men up and down the length of the pens to stop the oncoming car.
“What if he doesn’t stop?” Buffy sat in Wyatt’s megatruck, facing the intruders.
“He’ll stop.” Wyatt nodded to Wolf and began driving forward slowly, his lights off, his motor running as slowly as possible so they could pick up any night sounds. “He’s a coward, remember? As soon as he sees that there’s someone around, he’ll try to hightail it. But we’re not letting him out of here.”
Buffy clutched Wyatt’s strong arm, surprised at how good it felt to have someone to depend on. “Thanks for getting Anna and the boys over here. I can’t believe Jeanie left Sally asleep alone in the house.”
Wyatt looked at her, his hazel eyes flashing in the dashboard lights. “Let’s stop here and wait for them. There’s no sense going out any farther. They might get past us in the dark.” Wyatt stopped the truck. When he switched off the motor, the sound of an approaching vehicle was audible. “Tell me what she said in her note again.”
“She said she’s leaving for good and not to hunt for her. The note gives me the right to adopt Sally. I know it’s not a legal document, but it still shows her state of mind, that she wants to be done with both of us. How can she abandon her own child? Wyatt, she wasn’t always like this. It’s just that Michael, her husband, told her every move to make, and when he left her, she just lost her anchor.”
“Was he abusive?”
Buffy was startled by the question. “I’ve never considered that he was. If you ask Jeanie, she’ll tell you they were blissfully happy.”
“A lot of domineering men use their fists to enforce the rules. And a lot of women accept it.”
“My dad was a tyrant, but he just yelled all the time and told every one of us how to act.”
Wyatt laid his hand on her shoulder. “Let me guess. Military? An army drill sergeant?”
“Actually he was an accountant. I think he was obsessed with making things balance at work, and that need for control just got landed right on our heads.”
“And your mom put up with it?”
Buffy couldn’t help but enjoy the weight of Wyatt’s hand on her shoulder. She shifted a little to get closer. “My mom always blamed herself if he yelled. Jeanie thought he was wonderful, too. I was the troublemaker. I was always defying him, and I always ended up being sent to my room. I’ve avoided men like him.” She didn’t add, “and you,” but she thought it.
“So you have an accountant phobia?” Wyatt asked lightly.
That surprised a laugh out of her. “You gotta watch those CPAs.”
Wyatt dragged her the last four feet across the expanse of truck seat. “Good thing I was a failure at algebra.”
She didn’t see his head lowering in the dark, but she felt it. She felt him. His warmth and strength. The earthy smell of hard work that was a part of him. His hands were strong and steady. His lips firm and yet gentle at the same time. She didn’t feel in danger. She felt protected. And that was the greatest danger of all.
She tried to push him away and ended up with her arms around his neck. She needed to tell him to stop but instead let the kiss deepen.
Wyatt set her firmly away. “They’re coming. Get ready.”
Who was coming? Get ready for what? Then she heard the motor only a few yards ahead of them and remembered why they were out here.
Wyatt gunned his truck to life and switched on his headlights.
The car coming toward them stopped.
Wyatt swung his truck door open and slid to the ground.
Just as he landed, the oncoming car roared toward them. The door Wyatt had left open slammed closed brutally then tore away. The car scraped the whole driver’s side of the truck. The ugly sound of metal on metal twisted Buffy’s stomach. The monster truck shook but didn’t move while the smaller vehicle bounced off and drove right over Wyatt.
As quickly as it had struck, the smaller car was gone, driving for the ranch yard and the herd.
“Wyatt!” Buffy scrambled to the driver’s side of the rig, ready to leap out the gaping opening. She came nose to nose with Wyatt, who was rolling out from under the truck.
Wyatt shoved her across the seat. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
He threw his truck into gear and spun it around in a sickening U-turn. Wind blew in from the missing door as he fumbled for the CB, which he’d scrounged from the Commons. “They’re coming!”
Wolf’s voice, metallic through the radio, shouted, “I heard the crash. Are you both all right?”
“Yes, but they’ve destroyed another truck! He slammed right into me. He’s crazy. Did the sheriff ever get there?”
“He’s here. He brought half the county with him. Plenty of people mad about this mess.”
“I don’t want any of my neighbors hurt,” Wyatt said grimly. “The driver of that car is acting like this is a suicide mission. Get everybody out of the line of fire!”
“We’re ready for ’em,” Wolf said.
>
“I’m coming right behind. I’ll try and slow them down. Don’t let anyone get trigger happy while we’re out here.”
Then the Subaru’s brake lights lit up. Wyatt was closing in fast. Wyatt’s new truck was far better suited to the terrain than the battered Outback.
Wyatt said, “Buckle up.” He buckled his own seat belt as Buffy quickly fastened hers. Wyatt hit the brakes to slow down then rammed the back end of the Subaru. It spun sideways, and the two vehicles hit broadside, driver’s sides together.
With Wyatt’s door ripped away, Buffy could see into the smaller rig. She saw rage in the eyes of a young man. His car slid up on two wheels, and as if it were in slow motion, it rolled onto its side, still sliding.
Wyatt leaped from his truck. Six pairs of headlights were coming toward them from the Commons but were still a ways off.
Buffy jumped down. “Be careful.”
Wyatt ran around to the other side of the car and leaned over the windshield to look inside. A plume of smoke curled up from the engine.
“Wyatt, it’s on fire!”
“Get back!” Wyatt shouted.
Buffy hoped he wasn’t talking to her, because no way was she leaving him. She ran around to his side and heard the screams of fear and pain coming from inside the car. Wyatt kicked the windshield out; then he kicked again to make a bigger hole and slithered into the burning vehicle on his belly.
Wolf ran up beside Buffy just as she dropped on her knees to climb in after Wyatt. He caught her around the waist and pulled her away.
Fighting the grip, she screamed, “No, I’m going after Wyatt!”
“Keep out of his way.” Wolf shook her. “There’s not room for two of you inside there.”
Wyatt came out backward, dragging a young man with short, dark hair. The man clung to a shotgun, but Wyatt disarmed him quickly.
“Jeanie, she’s in there.” Blood dripped from the man’s forehead as he collapsed beside the burning car. “She got thrown into the back. There are bottles of gas in there. I was going to torch the fence and the barns. They’re going to blow.”
Buffy lunged for the shattered window.
Wyatt caught her around the waist, and for a second, their eyes met. In that look was everything—right down to Wyatt’s soul—that made him the man he was. The man she loved. He spun her away from the car and thrust her into someone else’s strong arms.
Wolf’s.
Then Wyatt turned back to the car.
“Stop him!”
Wolf had his arm around her like a steel band. He turned and said, “You hold her back. I’m going to help Wyatt.”
Buffy felt herself handed off again. She fought against the grip as she saw Wyatt’s legs vanish into the car. He needed to climb all the way to the back. He couldn’t get in and drag an injured passenger out before the car exploded. She wrenched against the man, who she now saw wore a sheriff’s badge.
He shouted over the crackling of the flames, “You can’t help him except to stay out of the way!”
Buffy rounded on him, still clamped against his body. He dragged her away from the car as the flames began to get too hot. She twisted her head around.
Wolf scrambled, shouted, ducking past the flames, peering into the interior of the car.
Buffy suddenly knew Wyatt was out of time. She heard the whine of something under pressure, getting ready to blow. She couldn’t fight the man who restrained her any more than she could fight Wyatt or Wolf or her father. So she used her wiles. She relaxed, smiling sweetly at the big lummox who was holding her. “All right, Sheriff. I panicked there for a second, but I’m better now.” She heard the shrill whine of that building pressure, but she remained calm.
The sheriff said in a patronizing voice, “I understand. Too much excitement can get a little lady all worked up.”
“You’re so right. But I’m okay now.”
More cars pulled up.
The sheriff let her go.
She spun around and charged for the back of the Subaru. She got around to the rear of the car just as whatever was whining began screaming under the pressure.
Flames shot up higher than Wolf’s head at the front of the car, and he staggered backward into the sheriff, who’d been coming after Buffy. The crackling flames drowned out their shouting.
She reached for the door latch on the back, but it burned her fingers. She dropped to the ground and kicked in the back window just as Wolf got to her side.
Wyatt was backed against the window, facing a wall of flames.
Buffy grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him out of the fire.
Wyatt’s pant legs were on fire, and he had Jeanie in his arms.
Wolf grabbed Jeanie, whose jacket was ablaze.
Buffy and Wolf pulled them clear.
Buffy threw herself at Wyatt’s feet. Beating at the flames with her bare hands, she screamed Wyatt’s name.
Wyatt coughed, nearly choking.
Wolf rolled Jeanie, unconscious, away from the fire, ripped off her jacket, and scooped dirt onto her clothes.
Wyatt yelled, “It’s gonna blow. That car is full of gas cans!”
Buffy caught Wyatt around the middle and hoisted him to his feet. Then the two of them staggered away as Wolf dragged Jeanie to safety.
The gas erupted. The force of the explosion knocked everyone to the ground. Fire rained down. Everyone fought a short, brutal battle against the flames.
The flames climbed into the starlit night, but the burning cinders quit falling.
Wyatt sagged backward onto the ground.
Wolf turned to check on Jeanie.
“How bad is it?” Buffy demanded. She grabbed the bottom hem of Wyatt’s blackened denim jeans and ripped them up to his knees. Heavy boots had protected him.
“I’m fine. I’m not burned.” Wyatt got wearily to his feet.
She turned and dropped to her knees beside Jeanie. “Is she badly burned?”
“No.” Wolf had two fingers on Jeanie’s throat, checking for a pulse. “Probably inhaled too much smoke. She’s breathing. Her pulse is strong. We called the ambulance when Wyatt first said you’d been hit. They’ll be here pretty soon.”
Buffy felt the first tears burn her eyes. She stood and threw herself into Wyatt’s arms.
He stumbled backward, but he steadied himself and caught on to what she was doing right away. He kissed her. Right there in front of the blazing Subaru, the brainless kid who had made this mess, and every man and buffalo in Custer County, South Dakota.
The county men weren’t so busy watching the fire that they couldn’t give them a round of applause.
Thirteen
Jeanie was awake before the ambulance came. She refused to look at Buffy and told her to stay away from the hospital. The county sheriff took the young man into custody and told Jeanie she would be arrested when she left the hospital.
Wyatt distracted Buffy from her anger and fear for Jeanie by asking her to marry him. This Saturday.
He wanted a wedding smaller than small. The boys and Sally and maybe Wolf, if he wasn’t busy with the buffalo. They had things settled before they pulled into the yard at the Commons.
Wolf came striding over to see them.
Buffy jumped down from the truck, eager to tell Wolf they’d set a date. Before she could speak, in the bright yard light, she saw Wolf’s furious anger.
“What is it?” Wyatt said before she could.
Wyatt came up beside Buffy and put his arm around her, as if he knew whatever was coming might require his support.
“We’re fired!”
“We’re. . .you and me?” Buffy asked.
“I got the word before we went out to catch the vandals, but I couldn’t tell you while we were dealing with that mess. All of us. Seth, the men riding the fence, all the staff. We’ve just gotten our two weeks’ notice. Leonard didn’t even have the class to call himself. He had one of his aides do it.”
“Then maybe it isn’t right. He can’t ju
st fire everybody. Someone’s got to ride herd on—”
“The Buffalo Commons is history. The stock market did one of its dives, and Leonard is all of a sudden not such a rich man. This is one of the toys he’s selling.”
“But where will they go? No one wants a thousand head of buffalo. There’s no one who can afford to keep them. The national parks are already fighting an overgrazing problem.”
“He’s already taken care of the problem. His aide told me all about it.” Wolf turned to look at the buffalo pens. His fists were clenched, and Buffy thought he was imagining getting his hands on Leonard.
“How can he have? No one will buy them. He can’t have solved the problem.”
“Sure, someone will buy them, Buffy,” Wolf said with vicious sarcasm. “Dog food companies. Leonard’s gofer said he is calling them today. They’ll buy them for less than the cost of trucking them to their plant. They’ll start picking them up a semiload at a time in a couple of days, and that’s it. Problem solved.”
Buffy staggered backward. “That’s not possible. He can’t do that. These buffalo are—”
Wyatt caught her as her knees gave out.
“They’re not an endangered species,” Wolf cut in. “They’re privately owned, and Leonard can do what he wants with them.”
“But the press will eat him alive,” Wyatt said.
Buffy said, “That’s right! This would be a public relations nightmare.”
“He’s going broke, Buffy. He can’t afford this place anymore. He’s putting the land up for sale and washing his hands of the whole thing. He doesn’t care about the public relations when he’s fighting for his financial life.”
Wyatt asked, “Do you have his number?”
Wolf turned slowly back from the pens at the tone in Wyatt’s voice. “Sure. There was a time, when we were just starting this, I thought of the man as a friend.”
“You have Louis Leonard’s private number?” Buffy asked incredulously.
Wolf rattled off the number, and Wyatt grabbed his tally book and jotted it down. Wolf asked, “What are you thinking? Have you got an idea that could save this place?”
“I’m thinking there’s a huge piece of land for sale, and I’m all of a sudden a rich man. I think Mr. Leonard and I could do some business.”
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