by Jackie Anton
Gram was obviously offended she’d been left out of some privileged information that would be prime gossip at one of her Senior Citizen functions. Lexie figured it wouldn’t matter much now, so she told her the story of Maria.
“Alexandra! You mean you agreed to let him retain that spiteful woman just so you could take your dog?”
“Don’t worry, Gram, if she gets out of line again, Skip can have what’s left of her for a chew toy after I finish with her.”
Mom was scrutinizing her while she embellished on her nemesis at the Rocking R. Her rendition for the benefit of her grandmother’s injured sensibilities appeared less comprehensive than the version she’d heard. Her daughter was still hiding something. “Lexie, you wouldn’t know anything about Booker’s unexpected assignment, would you?”
Lexie hated to lie to her mom, but she couldn’t say much. She was a trusted co-conspirator; the less other people knew at this point the better. “Really, Mom, how would I know what Booker is up to? I just got back this afternoon.”
She escaped further questioning by taking Skip for a walk, and promising to clean up the kitchen when she returned.
Lexie mulled over her options while she walked with Skip. Tomorrow was Friday. By Monday, she was planning on heading to the Texas panhandle. First thing in the morning, she would call the vet to see if Skip needed a health certificate and proof of inoculations for the trip. At the very least she would need Skip’s records for his future vet. She should also drop off her Suburban for a check up before packing it with her belongings. She didn’t have a GPS in her vehicle; it was not state of the art like Mel’s ill-fated Escalade had been. She did have a good road atlas, her iPhone, and her Suburban had a hook-up for her laptop. All that and unexpected detours aside, the trip shouldn’t take more than three or four days. She didn’t think she would ever forget that ill-fated trip to find Mel’s dot-com Mr. Right, and she prayed this trip had a better outcome.
Saturday morning, the packing chore began. She took all her underwear, even the lacy stuff from her honeymoon that she’d decided to hold on to a bit longer. Clothing was sorted into what she wanted to keep, and what could be donated to Goodwill. Lexie kept some of her winter things, at Cutter’s suggestion. “Be sure to bring your winter clothing, Lex. We can get some really nasty winter weather.”
She’d waited for the punch line, but he had seemed completely serious, so she did a little online research. It looked like her new address was located in the land of extremes.
Grandma’s calico quilt, like Skip, would not be left behind. Her next trip was down to the basement to retrieve her saddle and load it. She was assessing her packing job and rearranging some things to make room for her humongous tack trunk when Mom pulled her little red Focus up behind Lexie’s two-toned black and silver, larger vehicle. Eve was wearing a kelly green skirt and blazer. She obviously had put in a half day at work.
“What are you doing, Lexie?”
“Repacking to make room for my tack trunk. I forgot how huge it was until I saw it when I brought the saddle up.”
“Give me a chance to change into some old slacks, and I will help you lug it up the stairs.”
Lexie and her mom slid the trunk up the basement stairs, out the back door, and up to her suburban, making it only necessary to lift it once. After a lunch break, she found herself reshuffling her belongings one more time, so her small bag and her overnight case were easy to get at. She placed her mom’s luggage in the back seat. Gram took one look at the packed vehicle, and declined their invitation to come along.
Mom took a week of her annual two-week vacation to accompany her on the trip. It appeared that her new husband and her mother didn’t want her traveling alone. Together they’d worked out a plan for Mom to ride with her and fly back. Lexie didn’t blame Grandma for not wanting to take the long ride in the now cramped vehicle. Mom’s luggage didn’t take up much room in the second seat—it consisted of a makeup case, small carry-on, and one bag to check on her way home—but Skip would easily take up the remainder of the space.
They decided to leave Sunday, following Mass and breakfast, to avoid the Monday morning rush hour.
“I think we should call it an early night, Lexie. We can make an earlier service and be on the road by ten. All that remains is for you to pack your dog and his bowls.”
That evening, when she talked to Cutter, he tried to convince her to wait a couple of more days.
“Cutter, Mom already took a week of her vacation time beginning Monday. If we don’t leave in the morning, Skip and I will have to make the trip alone.”
He relented. She understood his concern with the outbreaks of wildfires in the neighboring drought-ridden states. Her new husband was worried about the potential for them to be caught in one of the lightning-ignited fires. A large area of the state and neighboring Oklahoma had been subjected to a large number of lightning strikes, but the dark clouds just rolled on by without spitting out enough moisture to make a difference. The fast moving front brought heavy winds that fanned the fires and spawned dust storms—not the heavy, hundred-mile storms that had just blanketed the greater Phoenix area or the one that had hit them in Lubbock not long after Lexie had left for Ohio—but bad enough to foul the dwindling water supply.
Cutter thanked God those winds hadn’t kicked up when the Lazy K went up in flames, or the Rocking R would have most likely been a pile of burnt ash, too. Not much was left of Sophie’s old place, but at least Pete was in the clear. Sam had put him to work watering the horses and throwing each of them a couple of slabs of hay. Two of the younger hands were pulling bales from the hay barn for him, and the others gave Pete an alibi for the afternoon of the fire. What little Cutter was able to find out from the sheriff’s office was that it appeared to be arson, and they referred him to the chief of their small volunteer fire department. From the chief he was able to get confirmation that the fire was deliberately set. It was frustrating, and he knew there was more to this, but information was scarce. Unknown to him, Booker had arrived on a flight soon after the one that had brought him home.
Booker teamed up with Patrick Boyd as soon as his plane touched down in Lubbock. They’d discovered that the fire had been set to cover up a murder. Shell casings from automatic weapons were in abundance around the perimeter of the house. Forensics had the remains of the crispy critter recovered from the rubble. All they had been able to determine so far was that the victim was a male thirty-five to forty, and had been shot multiple times prior to the fire. Booker hoped the dead man wasn’t Decker; he wanted the pleasure of beating him to within an inch of his miserable life.
Wednesday afternoon, Mrs. Parker and the new Mrs. Ross arrived at the Rocking R. The trip was uneventful; they’d had to locate lodging each night at a motel that welcomed Skip, but it wasn’t a major problem. They stopped for some sightseeing, and to walk the dog. Eve’s penchant for shopping was squelched by the lack of space in their transport vehicle. Showers that turned into a major cloudburst by the time they drove onto the Rocking R greeted the pair of travelers.
Lexie knew the rain was much needed, but memories of the floodwaters back in June flashed through her mind, bringing on a spontaneous outbreak of goose bumps. She drove close to the mudroom entrance of the house. Mother and daughter made a dash through the downpour, after quickly unloading just their overnight cases and small carry-on bags. Lexie managed to latch on to the towel they had used to wipe Skip’s paws dry before he reentered the vehicle from exercise or relief stops. She quickly fired off a few covert commands to Skip, “Komm hier bitte, mein Freund. Bleib!” They set their sparse luggage on the floor, kicked off their muddy shoes, and Lexie began working on drying off Skip.
She knew that Maria was not around when the cook failed to show up before she finished wiping her dog’s paws clean. They picked up their footwear and proceeded through the kitchen to the main hall. Cutter had suggested putting her mom in the room she herself had occupied a few months earlier.
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��What a lovely room, Lexie.”
“I liked it.” After she unpacked her blow dryer and completed drying her canine companion, she dialed Cutter’s cell, closed the bedroom door, and plopped on the large bed next to her already reclining mother. “Hi, cowboy! I just thought I would let you know we are here. Thank God Maria wasn’t here when we came in through the mudroom. It took me a good fifteen minutes to get the mud toweled off of Skip.”
When their conversation ended, she noticed that her mother had already zonked off, and Skip was stretched out on the floor at the foot of the bed, having doggie dreams. Lexie thought they had the right idea. She closed her eyes and joined them for the impromptu nap.
That was the way Cutter found them a few hours later when he returned home. The only one that stirred was the dog, who decided he wasn’t a threat and resumed his snooze. He showered, shaved off a three-day growth of stubble, and checked on the sleeping trio after he dressed. He decided to let them sleep while he unloaded the suburban—all but the large trunk, stuffed with tack, and a stock saddle. Those items would end up occupying space in one of the tack rooms in the horse barn. Lexie needed the rest. He didn’t plan on either of them getting much sleep that night.
Maria had been on her good behavior since their arrival on Wednesday, but Lexie noticed her glaring at Skip when he accompanied her to dinner and took up his customary spot on the floor near her seat at the dining table. Skip didn’t trust the cook anymore than she did, or maybe he just sensed his mistress’s dislike of the woman. He kept a watchful eye on her, and if she ventured too close he curled his lip while his black and tan coat stood up along his ruff. Lexie set his bowls up in the office where she would be spending several hours each day, and kept him with her during the waking hours. At night he slept with her mother in the adjoining room. He’d become a little upset by Cutter and Lexie’s exuberant reunion. It was her husband’s suggestion that Skip could keep Mom company while she was visiting, so the dog wouldn’t bite off any vital parts of his anatomy.
Thursday morning, mother and daughter piled into the Suburban once more to go on a shopping trip to Lubbock. Skip enjoyed the ride with his head sticking out the second seat window. Lexie patted her dog’s head, “Skip, “Schütz das Auto!” So, while Mom was busy checking out the clearance racks, Skip stood guard over the vehicle. He let anyone who ventured too near know that he was a force to be reckoned with. Lexie could have left the keys in the ignition even with all the windows open to their fullest, no one in their right mind would challenge the hundred and eight pound canine. Lexie took a few selections into the fitting room, but never tried them on. Instead, she used the privacy provided to touch base with Booker.
“Are you about ready to wind this up, Mom? I need to check on Skip, and we have a lunch date.”
“Let me try on these jeans, and then we can go.”
Cutter’s offer to take them on a horseback tour of some of the ranch had facilitated today’s unplanned buying binge. Mom hadn’t packed anything appropriate for horseback travel. Lunch went well, considering the topic of the fire at the Lazy K. To say that her mother was delighted to see Booker would have been a gross understatement, and it was obvious that he was just as pleased as she. The older couple seemed enchanted; their eyes clashed often, radiating heat that made Lexie wonder what she had missed while she was at Put-in-Bay with her new husband. She decided to excuse herself, allowing them some privacy. She would have to wait to confer with Booker by phone on the more closely held information that he had found out.
“I think I’ll check on Skip and run over to the bank. It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes. Enjoy the rest of your lunch. When I get back, Mom, we can find you a pair of boots to go with your new cowgirl outfit.”
Booker was gone when she returned to the table, and he had picked up the tab. In her whopping twenty-four years, she could never remember her mother making such quick work choosing footwear! On the return trip, Eve admitted she had a dinner date for that evening.
“You have a date with Booker?” Lexie couldn’t help the little girl giggle that bubbled out. “Who would have guessed?”
“What’s so funny?’
“Not a thing. I was just surprised, that’s all. I think it’s great.”
Booker showed up at the Rocking R just as Maria was about to serve dinner, making the departing couple the topic of the meal conversation. Cutter took his seat after greeting Booker, and seeing him and Lexie’s mother off. Jim jumped on the topic.
“Cutter, did you know he was in the area?”
He shook his head in response, but he was suspicious about his wife’s lack of curiosity. She was busy carving the steak on her plate, and refused to make eye contact with him. For every bite she took, she dropped one on the floor to be sucked up by the big furry vacuum cleaner parked at her feet. He also noticed Maria scowl every time Lexie dropped a morsel for Skip.
“I don’t know, Cutter. I heard that Boyd had teamed up with some big, mean-looking, Yankee over at the Lazy K, but no one is talking about the aftermath of the fire over there.”
Lexie’s interest in the fire at what used to be Decker’s place was as lacking as her usually opinionated take on a variety of subjects.
“Lex, did you know Booker was here?”
How was she supposed to answer that without lying? “ Yes. Mom and I had lunch with him this afternoon.”
“And the two of you just happened to run into him?”
“Sort of.”
She shot him a silent plea to drop the subject that he didn’t miss, but she knew he was just biding his time until they were alone.
Cutter caught her off guard when he suggested she change into something more appropriate for riding and meet him in the horse barn. By the time she entered the aisle of the double stall row, Cutter and Sam had a big dappled gray gelding tacked up with her saddle, but she didn’t see his big black anywhere.
“Sam and I picked out a couple of horses for you to try for yourself and your mom.”
With all the stress related to Booker’s activities, and the pending interrogation by Cutter, she had forgotten about the planned ride for tomorrow. Unlike Booker, who wanted the pleasure of putting his lethal hands on David Decker, she hoped the dead man found at the ranch was him. It would relieve a lot of stress on her part, and permanently put Mel out of his reach.
Out of habit she checked her girth, and made sure her stirrups were adjusted and securely fastened. The bridle was not one of hers, so she opened the gelding’s mouth to check the bit he was carrying. Satisfied, Lexie followed Sam into a large covered arena. She didn’t know what she had expected, but a thoroughly modern, immaculately kept stable and work arena was a pleasant surprise. Sam was standing by the horse’s head, waiting for her to mount.
“Okay, Sam what is wrong with him?’
“Nothing, Lexie. He is a good solid ranch horse.”
“Then why are you standing at his head like he is a green colt, or a loco bronc?”
“I just figured to give you a hand while Cutter gave you a leg up. He is a bit of a climb up for a little girl.”
“Really? Who usually rides him?”
“He is one of Cutter’s ranch string.”
Lexie looked at her husband and asked for the horse’s name.
“Blue.”
Okay, not very original. She made a mental note not to let Cutter name anything of importance, like any children they might have. She relieved Sam of the reins and led Blue to the center of the arena. She checked the girth again; he hadn’t blown up holding air, so the girth didn’t need any further adjustment.
Cutter watched his little wife mount the sixteen-one-hand gelding and was amazed how easy she made the long stretch up to the stirrup look. She started Blue off at a walk, turning him in small circles one way, then the other; Cutter knew she was getting the feel of his gelding, and he was impressed. She stopped him, backed him a few steps, and then repeated the process at a trot. He watched Lexie move him into a lope circl
ing half the arena to the right several times; she came through the middle of the
sand-based work area, and executed a flawless lead change before circling to the left. Suddenly, she rolled him back and took off down the far end of the arena where she sat down deep and slid him to a stop! Then she repeated the process in the opposite direction. Blue appeared to be enjoying himself; he really went to ground on the second stop, and spun like a top when she asked him. The big guy was a little worked up following the spins, but she made him stand for a few minutes then walked him around the perimeter of the arena several times before dismounting, loosening his girth, and returning his reins to Sam.
“He is fine for me on the ride tomorrow, but I think something smaller and less intimidating for Mom.”
Occupied with getting to know Blue, she hadn’t noticed the old man conversing with Cutter when he entered the work arena. Cutter introduced him as Pete Miller. So this is Pete! Sam brought out a little smaller sorrel gelding with a huge blaze that threatened to make him a bald faced horse; he also had two hind socks. His name, of course, was Blaze. She went through the whole process with Blaze, but unlike Blue, he just quietly went about his business. Lexie bumped him a few times with her legs, bounced on this back, and either pitched his reins way too loose, or grabbed the lines in a death grip while traveling at a trot. Lexie tried all the mistakes that inexperienced riders make that she could think of. He took it all in stride, humoring her like she must be slightly loony. She tried another bay gelding, and a seal-brown mare — both really nice horses, but she decided on Blaze for Mom, and opted for Blue for herself. Her biggest concern was getting a saddle with short enough stirrups for her mother. Sam assured her he had an old saddle that he’d cleaned up specifically for her mother’s use.
Lexie wasn’t anybody’s fool. She knew Cutter had used the selection of horses as a ruse to distract her from the coming confrontation about Bookers presence here on the heels of the fire at the Lazy K. He and Sam had already made the selection of Blue and Blaze before she ever got there. It wouldn’t have been so obvious if they had thrown the other two horses in between them, but she played along. She would probably pay for it tomorrow; it had been months since she had last spent any time a horse. Her husband joining her in the shower interrupted her thought process. It looked like he had more distractions in mind.