“I wish you’d talk to me,” Clay sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“There’s n,nothing to t,talk about,” she stammered as she rose to her feet. “Nothing.”
The sound of the doorbell chimed through the house, and hurriedly zipping up her bag she pulled it from the bed.
“Here, let me,” Clay said taking it from her hand.
She followed him down the hall and into the foyer, Lucky stuck to her side, but as Clay opened the door his cell phone rang.
“Dammit,” he growled as he handed the suitcase off to the driver, then stepping back inside the foyer he answered the call. “Hey, mom. Yep, sorry, something happened here. I’ll be there in two seconds.”
“You go on,” Crystal sniffled, “and take Lucky so he won’t be alone.”
He stared at her, then stuffing the phone back into his pocket he strode across the few steps between them, and before she could stop him his arms were around her.
“You listen to me, Crystal Morrison,” he whispered in her ear, “and you listen real good. Whatever is makin’ you like this, you’ve gotta find a way to tell me about it. I know you’ve just moved in, but you’ve gotta home here, and I’ll be waitin’ for you. You got it? Me and Lucky, we’re not goin’ anywhere, and we’ll be missin’ you every second that you’re gone.”
He felt her sob against him, and helpless to stop her, he watched her run to the door, pause for just a moment to stare back at Lucky, then dash outside and into the waiting Land Rover.
“Where are we headed?” the driver asked as he pulled away.
“The airport,” she muttered.
“Which one, though there’s not much point?”
“Why not?”
“First, there’s been a big pile up on the road and it’s totally jammed in both directions, and second, all the flights have been canceled.”
“Is there a low profile bar in this town? Somewhere down-home, somewhere no-one will care that a girl’s sitting by herself having a drink? A place I won’t be hounded?”
“Sure, Bill’s Tavern.”
“Bill’s Tavern, how wonderfully ironic,” she groaned. “Take me there, and after I’ve gotten plastered you can take me to The Lodge. Hopefully they’ll have some rooms available.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the driver said.
They continued down the driveway, and as the family home came into view she felt a rush of emotion. It welled up inside her like a grotesque alien, and she was sure if she let it take hold it would swallow her up. Purposefully shifting her gaze she stared past the driver towards the front gates, and to her surprise she saw a Sheriff’s car driving towards them.
“I wonder what they want,” she mumbled.
“The Parker’s are a real important family here,” the driver replied, thinking she’d been asking him. “The sheriff probably just wants to make sure they’re ready for the storm. It’s supposed to get worse tonight.”
“It seems to me they’re ready for anything at this place,” she mumbled. “I don’t give a shit. Just get me to the tavern. I need a drink.”
With the roads a mess the short drive took time, but Crystal was grateful. It gave her a chance to get some control over her emotions, and by the time the Land Rover pulled into the parking lot she had managed to pull herself together. Climbing from the car, the driver took her elbow and helped her through the gusty wind and swirling snow.
“Good grief,” she exclaimed as they entered, brushing herself off, then glancing around the familiar room she felt a fresh lump in her throat.
“You want some company?” the driver asked.
“No thanks,” she mumbled, unzipping her coat.
“Then I’ll be at the bar. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
She watched him wander across to the counter, then looked around for a place to sit. She had so enjoyed the nights she’d spent there with Clay. The place had an easy, comfortable atmosphere, and the crowd was always warm and cheery, but the place was virtually empty, and sighing heavily she headed to a table by the window. Settling down she stared out into the night, and when Bill approached she ordered two martinis.
“No waitress tonight?” she asked, staring up at the familiar face.
“I sent her home earlier. No-one’s comin’ out on a night like this. I’ll be closing in a couple of hours. What can I get you?”
“A martini,” she replied, then added, “no, make it two martinis, then I won’t have to wait for the second.”
“Sure thing,” he nodded. “My cook’s still here if you want somethin’ to eat.”
“No thanks, just bring me alcohol.”
“You got it.”
As he walked away, Crystal noticed the television that was set above the bar. It was showing scenes of the horrific pile-up the driver had mentioned. Ambulances and police cars where everywhere, and though the sound was muted, she didn’t need to hear anything to know it was a total mess. She suddenly flashed back to the Sheriff’s car arriving at Parker Farms, and she felt a chill shiver down her back.
“Mark,” she mumbled. “Holy crap, Mark.”
Stunned by the thought that Clay’s brother might have been one of the victims, she dropped her head in her hands.
“What the hell?” she groaned. Shit. I can’t go back, I can’t call, fuck, I can’t do anything. What a fucking mess.
Watching her from behind the bar, a worried crease crossed Bill’s forehead, and he reached for his phone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
At the Parker family home, a policeman named Hank Cooper was delivering some sober news. He was a long-time friend, and as John led him into the living room, Martha immediately gasped and grabbed her husband’s arm.
“It’s Mark,” she muttered. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, it’s Mark,” Hank nodded, “but don’t panic, he’s gonna be fine, and he’s a real hero.”
“A hero? Damn,” John mumbled.
“Thank the Lord,” Martha exclaimed dropping on to the couch and pulling Kenny with her. “How is he? Is he conscious? What happened?”
“Broken ribs, maybe a broken wrist, cuts, abrasions, but yeah, he’s conscious. He’s at the hospital, sedated for now, but the doctor in the emergency room said he’ll be fine.”
“Tell us what happened,” Clay said walking to sit on the other side of his mother.
“We’re not sure, but we believe the driver of a semi-truck had some kind of stroke, or a seizure. He was able to blast his horn, but that was it. His truck was outta control, and Mark was in front of him.”
“Did it hit him?” John asked.
“Hush, John, let the man talk,” Kenny said sharply.
“The truck was barrelin’ down on him, but Mark had the presence of mind to call 911. Let me tell ya, he is one smart, brave kid. There aren’t many folks would’ve been able to do that. Anyway, he must’ve been goin’ mighty fast, but he was able to veer into that left-hand turn lane, you know the one that takes you to the short cut around the back of the farms to get here?”
“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Clay remarked. “I hate makin’ that turn.”
“Go on, Hank,” Martha pressed.
“He tried to stop, but of course the road was real slick, and he told us it was either swerve in front of the oncoming traffic, or into the lane he’d just been in. He went back into his lane, and that’s when he was hit.”
“Oh, Lord,” Martha breathed.
“But that’s not the last of it,” Hank continued. “He got out of his Rover, called 911 again, said there was a woman screaming about her baby trapped in the back seat of her car. The baby’s harness had somehow moved and it was chokin’ him. I don’t know how Mark did it, but blow me down if he didn’t get that baby out. Paramedics said he saved it’s life, but even after that, he kept on helpin’ people. Ain’t heard nothin’ like it in all my years of policin’. He didn’t stop until a paramedic spotted him doubled over and went to see if he was okay. When they bundled him into the
ambulance he was still goin’ on about how he was needed on the scene. You should be mighty proud of that boy, mighty proud.”
“I am, I always have been,” Martha said quietly, wiping the tears from her face.
“I need to see him,” Kenny declared.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m here,” Hank nodded. “I’m gonna take you there in my car, and when you’re ready to leave, if I get called away one of my boys will bring you home.”
“John and I will follow you,” Clay said.
“I’d prefer it if you’d stay off the roads, and the hospital’s chaotic. Best if you wait until the mornin’ if you don’t mind,” Hank said, “and like I told you, he’s sedated. He might even be asleep when we get there.”
“Hank is right,” Kenny said firmly. “We don’t need another accident in the family. Your mother and I will tell him why you’re not there.”
“Please, let’s go,” Martha said anxiously. “I need to be with my baby.”
“He’s gonna be fine,” Clay said putting his arm around her.
“I know honey, but I need to be with him.”
“Let’s go,” Kenny said anxiously, and fighting back his tears of relief and worry he took his wife’s hand and helped her to her feet.
As John walked forward to offer his own comforting hug, Clay’s cell phone rang, and pulling it from his pocket he looked at the screen.
“Jeremy?” he muttered.
“Answer it,” Kenny said, hearing the name. “You answer it and don’t you worry.”
Not wanting to argue with his father, Clay headed into the kitchen to take the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Clay, how are you?”
“Fine, what can I do for you?” he asked, closing the door to block out the noise of the continuing conversation down the hall.
“I had to call you and tell you this,” Jeremy began. “I just got off the phone with Janet Morrison. What an amazing woman she is. She’s not just going to sell me the giclee, she’s going to fly out here and personally supervise the mounting.”
“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?” Clay said, not sure what he’d heard.
“Crystal’s mother, she’s insisting that she fly out and oversee the delivery of the giclee she’s having made for me, and make sure it’s mounted properly on my wall. I suggested she come out with her husband in tow, and you and Crystal could join us and we could have a small gathering to celebrate.”
“When did you talk to her?”
“Just now. Why?”
“When did she think it would be ready?”
“In a couple of weeks. Can you believe it?”
“That’s great,” Clay frowned, and as he stared down at the kitchen island he noticed the foil covered plate. “Sorry, Jeremy, I hate to cut this short but something’s just come up. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“No need. Just wanted to ask you to thank Crystal again.”
“I will,” Clay promised. “Have a good weekend and we’ll talk on Monday.”
“You too,” Jeremy replied.
Ending the call, Clay moved swiftly to the door and opened it. He could hear John saying goodbye to his parents in the foyer, then the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“Shit,” he grunted, and hurrying out to the foyer he ran into John grabbing his coat from the closet.
“Can you wait a second?” Clay asked.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“When I left earlier, to go back up to my house, what did you talk about while I was gone?”
“Nothin’ much,” John replied.
“This isn’t a time for you to be evasive, John. I need to know. It was about Crystal, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“What did you say, and I mean exactly. What did you say, and what did mom and dad say?”
“Mom wasn’t there. She went upstairs.”
“So then, you and dad, what was said?”
“You won’t like it,” John warned.
“Dammit, would just tell me?” Clay demanded, “and don’t leave anything out.”
“Okay, jeez, keep your shirt on. Dad said he was worried that Crystal wouldn’t wanna stay here once the novelty wore off, and she’d pack up and go and you’d leave the ranch to follow her.”
“What? Why would he think that?” Clay muttered. “Never mind, I’ll ask him myself. What did you say?”
“I said that you got bored real easy, she’d be gone in a couple of months, and you probably only had her stay with you because you didn’t wanna be bothered drivin’ in the winter weather to get laid.”
“You didn’t say that!”
“Uh, no, but that was the inference. I actually said, to see her.”
“Damn,” Clay groaned. “What else?”
“Dad made some comment about wishin’ you’d met a local girl, a girl like Becky who’d fit in here at the ranch, then mom walked in and that was it.”
“That was enough,” Clay grimaced. “That was more than enough.”
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”
“Crystal heard every word, that’s what’s goin’ on,” Clay said testily, “and she’s packed up and taken off, and I have no idea where she might be.”
“How did she-?”
“While I was goin’ back to the house to fetch the cookies she’d baked, she brought them down and was leavin’ them in the kitchen when you were jabberin’ away.”
“Shit,” John muttered, then looked at Clay intently. “You really like this girl.”
“Yeah,” Clay nodded. “I do, I really do, a lot.”
“You want me to help you look for her?”
“No. I might be able to find out where she is through the car service, and John, were you plannin’ on goin’ back to your house right now?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I think dad was right. Why battle the storm if you don’t have to? Drivin’ anywhere isn’t a good idea. Why don’t you stay here? I’m bettin’ mom would love havin’ you overnight, and then we can go to the hospital together tomorrow.”
“You’re right, and hey, I’m sorry about Crystal.”
“Shit happens,” Clay sighed.
“I’m gonna fix myself somethin’ to eat. You wanna join me?”
“No, I’m gonna go find her.”
“Good luck. If you need any help just let me know.”
“There is somethin’ you can do. Keep Lucky with you while I’m gone.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Clay watched his brother amble down the hallway, calling Lucky to go with him, and with Clay’s encouragement Lucky reluctantly followed. As they disappeared, Clay wandered over to the windows and stared up a the imposing mountains.
“If you really do have some kind of magic,” he whispered, “then please, help me find Crystal. I’m so worried,” and closing his eyes he put his forehead against the glass.
The phone in his pocket suddenly sang, startling him, and pulling it from his pocket he glanced down. The caller was identified as Bill’s Tavern.
Crystal had was finishing her third martini when Clay pushed through the tavern’s door. She was a light drinker, and with no food in her stomach, and having had the Irish coffee just before leaving the house, she was far from sober. Staring out the window, completely preoccupied with her broken heart, she didn’t notice Clay’s truck pulling into the parking lot, and didn’t hear the tavern door open, but Clay spied her immediately. Scanning the room he saw two couples sitting at a table, and the driver alone at the bar. Walking across to talk to him, he handed him a $50 bill, and asked him to put Crystal’s suitcase in the cab of his truck.
“Then you can take off,” Clay finished. “Thanks, and sorry to bring you out on a night like this for no good reason.”
“No worries,” the driver said. “It’s my job. Good luck.”
Bill walked up as the driver left, and with obvious gratitude, Clay thanked him profusely.
“Hey, yo
u’re welcome,” Bill said. “She looked real upset when she came in, and the weather bein’ like it is, I figured I should let you know she was safe.”
“I’m gonna get her home, but just how plastered is she?”
“That’s her third martini, and she downed them real quick. I’d say she’s gettin’ close to bein’ drunk.”
“I’m gonna try and talk to her, but I may just have to pick her up and carry her outta here,” Clay frowned. “If I do, I’ll need your help. It’s blown’ like crazy out there. I’ll need you to hold the truck door open for me.”
“Just let me know. Do you want me to bring over some coffee, maybe some dinner rolls?”
“Sure. It can’t hurt, and I’d kill for a mug of hot coffee.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Walking across the room, Clay stood by her table and waited for her to notice him. She looked up, grimaced, then turned her head back to the window.
“I’m here to take you home,” he said, slipping into the chair opposite her.
“You can’t. No flights. Road’s jammed.”
“I don’t mean San Francisco, I mean, the ranch.”
“That’s not my home,” she muttered, still not looking at him.
“Sure it is.”
“Noooope,” she said dramatically, lengthening the word, then banging the point of her finger against the glass, she added, “that ranch, that ranch, it doesn’t want me. Your parents don’t want me.”
“Crystal,” he said calmly, “I know what-“
“And you,” she interrupted, finally turning around and staring at him, “you just want me for…what? A month? Two? Sheesh!”
“That’s not true,” he sighed.
“I heard it,” she said, her eyes wide, “and you know what? I kinda understand. I do, honest. I don’t ride, I don’t shoot, I don’t do any of that cowgirl shit.”
She was talking slowly and slurring her words, and as Clay reached across the table to take her hand, she snatched away.
“Nope, no handy pandy anymore,” she quipped. “You get it?” she giggled. “Hanky panky, handy pandy?”
“Yeah, I get it,” he nodded, then paused as he saw Bill approaching.
“What’s all this?” she frowned.
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