Fateful Waters

by Jackie Anton

  Gambling debts sucked up most of the cash Sophie had bequeathed him, but that didn’t stop him from racking up more debt. He reasoned that he could sell of some the cattle at auction, but the damned drought had ranchers dumping animals left and right, so his sales were a fraction of what he’d hoped. Then, the cloudburst drowned a dozen head while he was cheering on the deluge. He’d picked up Melinda at the hotel in Lubbock for the intimate dinner and seduction that he’d planned. She’d called to cancel dinner, since her friend hadn’t returned with her car from a clinic visit. He figured it worked to his benefit to have Melissa dependent on him for transportation. It would allow him more time to work his wiles, but she had insisted on having Lexie join them. The roommate had taken an immediate dislike to him despite his renowned charm. He routed her the long way, hoping she would return to Lubbock instead of battling the building storm, and putting a kink into his plans for the evening.

  David felt giddy, like dancing a jig. The blond menace was missing, and presumably gone the way of his ill-fated cattle. He almost blew it with Melinda by pushing the issue of the insurance filing. It took some quick talking to smooth it over, and he made a decision to back off for a few days. When Melinda’s friend’s body was found, he would be there to comfort his little gold-plated heiress.

  Lexie was feeling much better by noon the day following her visit from Cutter. She still didn’t buy his explanation of the Mrs. Ross debacle, but figured she owed him for saving her twice. So, later that afternoon when Melissa showed up with a deputy sheriff in tow, she played the dumb blond to the hilt.

  Melinda just stood there gawking at her, and then the dam burst.

  “Lexie, you scared the hell out of me! I thought you were dead. You look like crap! Oh, by the way, this is Deputy Sheriff Patrick Boyd. You should see the photos of the Escalade; then you would realize how scared I was. I’m so sorry I badgered you into making that awful trip. Why are you listed as Mrs. Ross? Just who is Mr. Ross?”

  The deputy was intent on the little blond’s reaction. While Melinda rattled on, Lexie just nodded in recognition of their brief introduction. Suddenly, it was quiet. Her hyper friend had fallen silent, and was now waiting for Lexie’s response to the string of questions.

  She tried to remember the list her friend had presented like a radio commercial disclaimer. “I’m sorry you were scared, and thank you for your assessment of my appearance.” Lexie was gratified to see Melinda look a bit chagrined. “Actually, I’m told I look much better today. I am sorry about losing your SUV. Nice to meet you, Deputy, I think.”

  Patrick found it interesting that Lexie didn’t answer Melinda’s question about her marital status, so he broached the omission. “Alexandra, should I put your last name on my report as Parker or Ross?”

  “Take your pick Deputy, everyone else does.”

  He took note of her cryptic remark, and pursued it. “When did you marry Cutter Ross?”

  “You know, Deputy, I really don’t remember. I just came around yesterday, and everyone was calling me Mrs. Ross. I think the high fever scrambled my gray matter. Things are out of sequence, so it’s hard for me to decide what was real, and what was a fever-induced hallucination. I guess you’ll have to ask Cutter.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the lobby, Melinda. Pleasure to meet you, Lexie.”

  He fully intended to have a talk with Cutter; this thing just didn’t add up. Patrick had a feeling she could remember more than she was willing to admit.

  Once he was out of the room, Lexie seized the offensive. “Who is the uniform, Melinda? Have you been spending a lot of time with him?”

  “Lexie! He is the law. Deputy Boyd has been keeping me informed on the search for you. I think he was expecting to recover a body until yesterday. How are you really?”

  “I’m better. They’ve removed most of the damned tubes, and I can go to the bathroom now. I just have to roll the IV tree along with me. Had some broth and Jell-O today. Mel, do me a favor, bring me something to wear that won’t cause your lawman friend to arrest me for mooning folks.”

  “Stop stalling, Lexie, tell me about Ross.”

  “Can’t. I don’t know anything about him. I’m really beat, Mel, and could use some sleep before I have to deal with my new husband this evening.”

  Melinda left Lexie, retreating temporarily to join the deputy. Like him, she had a feeling Lexie was hiding something, and had cut their visit short because she had been asking questions that her newly resurrected friend didn’t want to answer.

  A more agreeable nurse—Thacker was either not on duty or had the day off—gave her some ibuprofen for the throbbing between her ears. The verbal sparring with Melinda and her deputy had depleted her limited supply of energy. Lexie dozed off following a bland liquid dinner. She didn’t resurface from her deep, dreamless sleep until the following morning. Once she verified that it was indeed morning, Lexie wondered if Cutter had shown up the previous evening.

  He’d been working for hours by the time Lexie was served her breakfast. Cutter straddled the bales on the truck bed as the vehicle bounced along between the hay feeders strategically placed near dwindling water supplies while Jim drove. Usually, he rode in the cab with Jim, but he wasn’t fit company for man or beast.

  Jim exited the cab at each stop to cut the bailing strings and pull them from the feeder, as his taciturn boss tossed in the bales. Jim knew something was eating at the other man. Cutter wasn’t the gabby type, but he was exceptionally quiet this morning. When he had to communicate, he either barked an order as if he was a drill instructor, or growled like a bear.

  Cutter worked like a man possessed—an attempt at relieving the stress building since the previous evening when Patrick Boyd had waylaid him. He’d been fresh from the shower, and looking forward to a quick dinner before making the trip to Amarillo. He ran into a roadblock in the form of the deputy that had been seated at the kitchen table. Sweet, hospitable Maria had invited Patrick to dinner. Cutter squelched the nagging feeling that the invite had been intentional, on her part, to keep him from making the trip to Amarillo.

  The two had waltzed around the subject of his new wife through the course of the meal. He’d been shown the photos of the recovered Escalade. Just the thought that she could have been in that mangled wreck, had Momma cow not been blocking the road, had turned the tender cut of beef and Spanish rice into hot lead in his belly. Boyd had been quick to pick up on his reaction.

  “Maria gave me a brief account of what happened when Alexandra arrived here. Just how did you meet her, Cutter?”

  Ross went over the story that had been replaying since he viewed the graphic photos.

  “Had the two of you a previous history?”

  Lexie was right; his ass was going to jail. “What did she tell you?”

  “Alexandra claimed she couldn’t recall. She gave me some excuse about a high fever scrambling her brains, and suggested I ask you when I questioned her about whether her last name was Parker or Ross. Which is it Cutter?”

  “Why don’t you just put Parker hyphen Ross in your report, and let it go at that.”

  Boyd was like a dog with a bone, he just kept gnawing away. “Just when did the two of you tie the knot?”

  “Recently.”

  “Newlyweds, huh?”

  “Right.”

  Cutter had reverted to one-word answers, and was straining to look casual and unaffected by the line of questioning. He made note of the grin on the deputy’s face as he dug into the slice of strawberry pie Maria had placed in front of him. Cutter hadn’t admitted anything to their dinner guest, but his gut told him that Boyd knew exactly what was going on, and evidently found it humorous. A strange warmth flowed over him as he thought about Lexie playing dumb to protect—what she referred to as—his dumb ass.

  By the time Patrick had departed, it had been too late to make the trip to check on her. He’d consoled himself with the idea that someone from the hospital would call, should she make a turn for the worse. He w
orked off his frustration by loading the trucks with hay for the morning run to replenish the feeders scattered around the ranch. What little fresh grass that had been produced by the inland bands of the last tropical storm was now history, making hay an expensive necessity. Hay from out of state was sure putting a dent in his operational budget, and he was going to have to order more, or let the stock starve.

  Cutter called a halt after lunch, cleaned up and refreshed he headed north. Lexie wasn’t in her room when he arrived. Nurse Thacker directed him down the hall to a solarium where he found her in the company of a brunette with a couple of more vertical inches on her than Lexie, who was about his shoulder height. She spotted him before he entered the sunlit room, and blushed a color similar to that of the frilly rose robe she wore over a lacey pink nightgown. He made an attempt not to grin, but failed.

  “Afternoon, ladies. Lex, you aren’t overdoing it are you?”

  She probably was, but she wouldn’t admit it to him. The short walk down here from her claustrophobic cell had her puffing like she had just run a marathon. Carting the rolling IV tree along didn’t help the situation either. So, as soon as they reached their destination, she eased into one of soft upholstered chairs, and basked in the sun streaming through the huge tinted windows. She must be feeling stronger, she thought— either that or her mind had snapped. If he didn’t stop grinning at her and ogling her horrid pink outfit, she was going to get out of this comfy chair and smack him right upside his head. She graced him with her most defiant glare.

  “I am just fine. Thank you for your concern.” He was now eying her skeptically. Maybe an introduction was in order. Once Mel found out who he was, Cutter would be too busy fielding questions to keep perusing her with his intriguing and unsettling gray eyes. “Mel, this is Cutter Ross. Cutter, meet my friend and roommate Melinda Potter.”

  Cutter nodded a brief recognition following the introduction, then turned his attention back to assessing her. Mel came through and then some. Cutter was unprepared for Lexie’s friend to hop out of her chair throwing her arms around his neck then kissing him smack on the mouth.

  “Welcome to the family, Cutter! I really should be bummed at you for not inviting me to the wedding, but you’re just too cute to stay angry at.”

  Lexie was the one grinning now. He looked confused, a bit shell shocked, or like he’d just been hit by an angry bull. Lexie didn’t think anyone had called Cutter ‘cute’ since he was a small child, if then. Mel also noticed his confusion.

  “You are the right Mr. Ross, aren’t you? The one that’s supposed to be Lexie’s husband?”

  “Right.”

  “Exactly when was the wedding?”

  “Recently.”

  Melinda looked to her friend for direction. Her husband, if he was, refused to embellish on his one-word responses. It was down right frustrating. “Lexie, is he always so talkative?”

  Lexie shrugged her shoulders, and looked him in the eye. “Beats me, Mel, I can’t remember a thing.”

  Mel stomped her foot with hands on her hips, and glared accusingly at Lexie. “Don’t give me that crap! You never forget anything, but you don’t remember getting hitched? Do you expect me to buy that?”

  “You bought Decker’s line of crap enough to travel across the country. So why can’t you believe I don’t remember everything that happened after I buried your ride in the muck, and then woke up here in the hospital? Have I ever lied to you?”

  Cutter was not happy with the turn of events. The blush had disappeared from Lexie’s cheeks to be replaced with a pasty pallor reminiscent of the days she had a machine breathing for her. So he sat in the chair next to her, picked up her right hand, and that was when David Decker entered. It was as if the women had conjured him up. Cutter observed as Melinda exuberantly launched herself at the new arrival, much as she’d done to him a few minutes earlier. Decker returned the embrace and kissed her, but Cutter noticed the lack of warmth in the other man’s eyes. He recognized a cold and calculating look that belonged in a boardroom negotiating deals, not in the embrace of a beautiful woman. Holding Lexie’s hand, he was aware of the instant tension in her when Decker entered the room.

  David’s appearance effectively dampened her spirits, as well as turned her stomach. Lexie felt like she had let the Potter’s down. In her mind she owed Mel’s parents a big debt for assisting with her pursuit of a business degree; Mr. Potter had arranged an unprecedented paying internship for her with one of his businesses in Columbus. The internship with a prestigious CPA firm gave her practical experience and much better pay than her previous job as a waitress. That was the reason that she agreed to this trip. Melinda was impulsive when it came to a lot of things in life, including her relationships with men. While Lexie was working her way through college, Melinda was intent on finding Mr. Right before she graduated.

  “Cutter, would you walk back to my room with me? I think I’ve had all I can stand for today.”

  He stayed on her right side while she manipulated the IV stand with her left hand.She was a little wobbly as she gained her feet, so she latched onto his left arm to steady herself. He had a little difficulty adjusting his stride to her smaller halting steps. All in all, she did okay for her first walk about. The brief farewell between the friends was strained, but more interesting was that not a word had passed between Lexie and Decker. The animosity directed at Lexie from the other man was palpable. He had a hunch Decker would have been a lot happier had Lexie remained in the Escalade to its end. Her return from the small restroom put an end to his speculation.

  Lexie didn’t like the nurse on duty, so she was attempting to coerce him into helping her out of the horrid rose-colored robe. Cutter was uneasy about assisting her with removing her robe, which entailed clamping the IV to get her left arm out. Fortunately, Nurse Thacker arrived to finish the honors. He was so happy to see the nurse enter the room that he could have kissed her. Lexie’d insisted the two of them could manage, and there wasn’t a reason to bother the nurse. Thacker’s squeaky little girl voice irritated Lexie, especially when the matronly nurse tried bossing her around. She found it difficult to control her ire when the hefty woman threatened her with dire circumstances—like strapping her wrists to the bed—if she didn’t toe the mark. Lexie had to put up with that kind of scolding from her grandmother, but she didn’t intend to take it from this pain in the posterior. Once she was safely in bed, the nurse hung the robe in a small closet, and placed the fuzzy rose slippers on the floor beneath it. Thacker turned to assess Lexie.

  “You know, Mrs. Ross, pink is not your color. It does absolutely nothing for you.”

  “I agree. You might give your fashion tips to my friend the next time she comes.”

  The nurse ignored Lexie’s sarcastic response, and turned her attention to Cutter. “Mr. Ross, the dinner trays will be arriving shortly; would you like me to put in an order for you? You can share dinner with you wife.”

  Cutter glanced over at Lexie for some guidance, and found her shaking her head and mouthing ‘no’. So, of course he accepted the nurse’s offer. Lexie didn’t even wait for the nurse to exit before calling him to task.

  “Are you nuts? That stuff will probably give you food poisoning. Then you’ll end up in here too.”

  “Do you think they’ll let us share?”

  “Not going to happen. This is a private room, or don’t you remember, Mr. Big Spender?”

  “I remember. I thought your condition warranted a relatively quiet private room.”

  “It’s going to take me years to pay this back. Melinda is the rich one, not me.”

  “Your friend is rich?” No wonder Sophie’s narcissistic grandson is so interested.

  “Well, her parents are. The Cadillac I trashed was her graduation gift from them. Are you wishing you would have responded a bit more enthusiastically when she wrapped her arms around you?”

  “Melinda isn’t my type. Besides, I’m a married man.”

  “Oh really! Just what
is your type, Mr. Ross?”

  “You, Lex.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the dinner trays. Lexie was treated to beef broth, lime Jell-O, some strange-looking pureed meat that was supposed to be pot roast, mashed potatoes with an eye dropper full of gravy, and a yellow-orange vegetable that the menu declared was supposed to be carrots. Her taste buds didn’t register any of the semi-soft offerings; every bite was bland. Cutter’s pot roast was at least recognizable, as was his helping of carrots. He enjoyed a hefty helping of gravy on his mashed potatoes, and a slice of devil’s food cake that made her mouth water. At least the warm cup of tea hit the spot. Strong willpower and the need to extricate her frail self from this torture chamber compelled her to clean up the slop on her tray.

  Cutter disappeared after the trays were picked up. Lexie maneuvered until her bare toes touched the ground, and made her way to the bathroom. The simplest tasks seemed to wear her out. By the time she exited the necessary room Cutter was again seated in the chair beside her bed. She thought he’d gone for the night, or she would have grabbed the damn rose robe. Melinda’s lacy pink nightgown didn’t hide much. As quickly as she could manage she positioned the IV stand, and scooted under the covers. Cutter had returned with a cup of tea and a Dixie cup of chocolate ice cream for her, a large coffee for himself, and a deck or cards.

  “Where did you get this stuff?”

  “The cafeteria on the first level, except the deck of cards. Got them at the gift shop. Do you play?” He raised one of his dark eyebrows and grinned when he asked the question.

  “Play what exactly?”

  “Cards, of course. What’s your game?”

  She still had the feeling there was a double significance behind his words. “Solitaire.”

  Cutter gave her a skeptical look, but bit back the first retort that came to mind knowing she would take exception to it. “That’s it? Just solitaire?”

  “I can play a little rummy, passable poker, and canasta.”