by R. C. Ryan
I need to worry about you… I heard that Deke Vance was seen nearby.
Quinn had a lot of questions to ask Cheyenne about the mysterious, and possibly dangerous, Deke Vance. But for now, with the trauma of the fire so fresh, he would bide his time and give her a chance to calm her jangled nerves.
Come morning, he vowed, they would report all of this to Chief Everett Fletcher in the little town of Paintbrush and let the lawman handle it from there.
CHAPTER NINE
Cheyenne awoke with a start and realized that she’d been dozing. Seeing Quinn standing over her had her going very still.
“What are you doing?”
He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “Watching you sleep.”
His words, and the way he said them, caused a tingling sensation along her spine.
She sat up, feeling suddenly warm and vulnerable at the thought of being watched while she slept. “I hope I wasn’t humming.”
That had him throwing back his head with a laugh. “You only hum when you eat.”
He dropped to his knees in the straw and faced her. “I’m glad you caught some rest. It gave me some time to think. I think you should phone Chief Fletcher over in Paintbrush and ask him to send someone out to investigate this fire.”
She wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees and studied him. “Why? What have you found?”
“You saw the same things that I saw in the house. Both the furnace and water heater are in shambles. Either one could have caused the fire. But the insurance company will insist on an investigator’s report before they’ll pay for any damage.”
He handed her his cell phone.
Minutes later she handed it back, after reporting the fire to the police chief and assuring him that it had been brought under control.
“He’s on his way.”
“That’s good.”
“Why do I get the idea that there’s more than what you’re saying?”
He shrugged. “Let’s talk about Deke Vance.”
When she arched a brow he explained. “At our first”—he shot her a rogue smile—“encounter in the barn, you suggested that I’d been sent by Deke. Last night, Austin said he was worried about you being here alone because he’d heard that Deke Vance was seen nearby.”
She nodded. “Deke was Buddy’s childhood pal. The two had been inseparable since they were both kids. Deke’s father owns a small ranch just outside of Paintbrush, and he used to work for my father to earn extra income. Whenever he worked here, he would bring Deke along, and Deke and Buddy would spend their days working and fooling around in the barn. My family really liked Deke, and he often spent weeks here, while his father was up in the hills with the other wranglers. Deke ate with us, slept in Buddy’s room, and was just like one of the family.”
“Was.” Quinn paused. “What happened to change things?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Shortly after coming here, Austin told Buddy and my father that he’d seen Deke helping himself to money from a drawer in the kitchen where we always kept our household accounts. Deke denied it, and Austin went out in the utility room and carried in Deke’s parka. Sure enough, there were two one-hundred-dollar bills in the pocket. When Dad counted the money in the drawer, he discovered it was two hundred dollars short.”
“What did Deke have to say about it?”
“At first he was speechless. Then he denied having ever done it. My dad tried to smooth things over. He told Deke that he understood that times were hard now that his dad’s debts were mounting and they were struggling to hold on to the ranch. We’d heard that Deke’s mother took a job at the Watering Hole in Paintbrush. When Deke continued to deny that he’d done anything wrong, Dad told him to take the two hundred and pay him back whenever he could.” Her voice lowered with emotion. “I still can’t believe how calmly my dad reacted to such an ugly scene. But the more reasonable Dad became, the angrier Deke got. He insisted that he would never steal from us. That we were his second family. He grabbed Buddy by both shoulders and started shaking him, demanding that he believe him.” She sighed. “Buddy told him to take his hands off him. That’s when Austin stepped in and shoved Deke against the wall so hard he hit his head and fell down. Deke said some really ugly things to Austin until my dad stepped between them and ordered Deke from the house.” She shook her head. “That’s the last time I saw him, except at Buddy’s funeral. He stood at the back of the church, but when it looked as though he might come forward to speak to Dad and me, Austin made it plain that he wouldn’t be welcome. He left without a word. When Dad died, I thought I saw Deke at the cemetery, but when I looked again, he was gone.”
“And now he’s been spotted hanging around.”
“And for that you want me to report him to the sheriff? Quinn, Deacon Vance lives in the area. Our herds share a common rangeland. He has a right to hang out wherever he pleases.”
Quinn nodded. “I agree. But it just makes sense to take precautions. If he’s been spotted nearby, it ought to be in the chief’s report.”
“All right. But I just don’t believe that Deke would hurt me.”
“I hope you’re right about that.”
At the sound of a truck’s engine they got to their feet and walked from the barn to find Micah pulling up beside the house. Behind him, a second truck slowly made its way along a winding dirt trail.
“What in hell happened here?” Micah climbed down from the truck and leaned heavily on his cane while staring in disbelief at the destruction.
“A fire.” Cheyenne hurried up to the old man and gave him a fierce hug, which he returned. “Quinn said it could have been caused by the furnace or the hot-water heater.”
“You okay?” Micah released her and held her a little away to give her a long, steady look.
“I’m fine, thanks to Quinn. He was the one who woke and smelled the fire.”
The old man turned to study Quinn. “How come you’re still here?”
Cheyenne answered for him. “The mustang out in the barn kicked me so hard I dislocated my shoulder and—”
“Wait just a minute.” Micah held up a hand just as Austin and a lean, lanky cowboy exited the second truck and walked up to join them.
When the cowboy shot Cheyenne a puzzled look she said, “Quinn, this is Wes Mason, my ranch foreman. Wes, this is Quinn Conway.”
The foreman extended his hand. “As in the Conways from across the hills?”
“That’s right.” Quinn studied the silver-haired cowboy, whose loose-limbed walk and leathery skin were a trademark of every cowboy he’d ever known. With a smile he accepted his handshake.
“I’ve met your daddy and granddaddy through the years. Good men, both of ’em.”
“Thanks. I couldn’t agree more.”
“Which son are you?”
“The oldest.”
Micah interrupted. “Cheyenne was just telling me that she dislocated her shoulder.”
“The mustang,” she explained. “I’ve never had any trouble with him before, so I wasn’t expecting him to go crazy. I stepped into his stall, and the next thing I knew I was lying in the corner and barely conscious.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “My shoulder was dislocated.” Seeing the sharp looks from the two men, she added quickly, “Don’t worry. It’s good as new now. Again, thanks to Quinn.”
“And this?” Wes pointed to the charred section of house that lay exposed.
“The fire started during the night.” Cheyenne turned to Austin. “Shortly after you left.”
Both Micah and Wes turned to Austin, who looked absolutely thunderstruck. “I wish now I’d have followed my hunch and stayed on at the bunkhouse. It’s like I’ve been telling you. I don’t trust Deke Vance.”
Cheyenne gave a quick shake of her head. “Quinn said it could have been caused by the furnace or the water heater, since they’re both really damaged. Anyway, at Quinn’s insistence, I phoned Chief Fletcher in Paintbrush.”
The foreman shot Quinn a piercin
g look. “So you agree with Austin? You think there was more here than a simple fire?”
Quinn shrugged. “I didn’t say that. But I’m sure the insurance company will want an investigator to make a report before they agree to pay for the damage.”
Wes nodded. “Makes sense to me. How bad’s the damage?”
“Bad enough that it’s going to take some time to put it all back together.”
“Come on.” Cheyenne led the way. “You may as well take a look for yourselves.”
They moved through what was left of the utility room, then on to the kitchen, and then up the stairs. Except for a few muttered curses, the men were silent as they assessed the damage.
By the time they’d made a complete tour of the house, the police chief was driving up in his four-wheel-drive truck.
Everett Fletcher had been the football star of Paintbrush High School. At nearly six feet of pure muscle, he’d gone on to play college football until an injury ended his chances of going pro. After a career with the state police, he’d returned to his hometown, where for the past years he was content to deal with drunks and petty criminals. He knew everyone in town, and most of the outlying ranchers, by name. They knew Everett to be fair and honest. A good man, they would say. Competent and patient.
Chief Fletcher ambled over, his cell phone in one hand, his clipboard in the other.
“Cheyenne.” He could see her lingering pallor. “You’ve been through some tough times lately. Sorry about this latest one.”
“Thanks, Chief.” She accepted his handshake. “You know Micah and Wes and Austin. And this is—”
“Quinn Conway.” Everett pumped Quinn’s hand before Cheyenne could finish the introduction. “I’ve known him and his family since we were kids.” He grinned at Quinn. “What brings you to this side of the mountain?”
“Just passing through,” Quinn said with a smile.
With the formalities over, the police chief got down to business. “Cheyenne, I’d like to walk through the house with you, and you can tell me as much as you know about this fire.”
She drew in a deep breath before leading him back into the charred building.
An hour later Cheyenne and Everett emerged from the house and into the frigid air, where they paused, breathing deeply.
Cheyenne saw Quinn talking quietly with Micah and Wes. The looks on the faces of her cook and foreman were as grim as the feelings swirling around in her mind.
With each tour of the destruction, she seemed to sink deeper into the realization of just how close she’d come to disaster.
“I’ve got enough pictures for now.” The chief dropped his cell phone into his shirt pocket and carefully inserted a series of signed documents into a file folder before tossing it on the seat of his truck. “I’m sure the insurance company will want to do their own inspection. But I have enough information for now.”
He shook hands all around before giving Cheyenne’s shoulder a squeeze. “You stay safe now.”
She mumbled something and watched him drive away, wondering why she suddenly felt exhausted and overwhelmed. Maybe, she thought, it was the realization of what she and Quinn had survived.
Quinn was talking in low tones with Micah and Wes. The two men listened intently, before nodding their agreement.
Quinn led the way as the three approached.
“I really need to be getting home.”
Cheyenne blinked and tore her gaze from the house. “I guess I’ve kept you long enough.”
“I’m glad I was here to lend a hand. But now that I’m leaving, I wonder if you’d like to ride along?”
“Why would I want to go to your place?”
“We’ve got plenty of room. You could stay until you get word that the heat and water are restored and the house is livable.”
Austin was just crossing the yard from the barn. When he overheard Quinn’s offer, he hurried over just as Cheyenne was shaking her head in denial.
“Hold on, Chey.” Wes Mason’s voice was soft, but with a note of authority, like a man who was accustomed to giving orders to a crew of headstrong cowboys and having them followed without question. “Conway is offering you the perfect solution. He already suggested it to Micah and me, to see if we’d have any objection. We both agree that you can’t stay here without heat and hot water. And the bunkhouse is no place for a lady. You can ride over whenever the contractor needs to consult with you. That way, we have the satisfaction of knowing that you’re safe and comfortable until the house is repaired and good as new.”
Austin shot her a bright smile. “He’s right. I’m sure Dad would say the same thing.”
Seeing the way Micah turned to study him, he patted the old man’s shoulder. “Sorry. A slip of the tongue. That’s what he told me to call him.”
He caught Cheyenne’s hands in his and gave her a boyish smile. “It makes sense for you to find a place to stay until the house is ready. Don’t think of it as abandoning your legacy, or turning your back on your responsibility. It’ll only be for a little while. That’s what Dad would say, and that’s what I’m saying.”
At his words a sad, haunted look came into Cheyenne’s eyes.
She turned away quickly, to hide the tears that sprang up unexpectedly. For long moments she kept her gaze averted, arms crossed over her chest, her booted foot tapping, as she mulled her options.
She lifted her head, studying the charred wreckage of her childhood home, and the heartbreak was there for all of them to see.
When she turned back to them, the sad look remained, but her voice was strong as she said to Quinn, “I can’t bear the thought of leaving. But I know I can’t stay here, at least until the furnace and hot-water heater are replaced. So I guess, for now, the best thing I can do is go with you. Thanks for the offer, Quinn. I appreciate it.”
“That’s my girl.” Micah leaned heavily on his cane as he gathered her into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Cheyenne, honey, it’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”
She sighed. “I’ll need time to pack up my things.” She pointed to a second barn where the trucks and heavy equipment was stored. “The wranglers will need the stake truck, but they can spare the other pickup. The keys are on the wall, just inside the door.”
Austin turned away. “I’ll take care of it.”
Quinn stepped around him. “You’ve got enough to do with the ranch chores. I’ll get it.”
As he strolled toward the barn, Austin continued watching him until he heard Wes Mason say to Micah, “So that’s the wolf whisperer.”
The older man grinned. “That’s him.”
“Wolf whisperer?” Austin spun around, eyes narrowed.
Micah started toward the house. “That’s what I call him. I’m sure he’s got some fancy title. He’s some kind of expert on wildlife, especially wolves. Not surprised,” he added. “That man may have grown up on one of the most successful ranches in Wyoming, but there’s just something in his eyes that tells me he’d be as comfortable in the middle of nowhere, with a pack of hungry wolves as his closest neighbors.”
CHAPTER TEN
Look.” In an attempt to lift Cheyenne’s spirits, Quinn lifted a hand from the steering wheel to point to the melting snow along the highway. “Spring is trying to make its way to Wyoming.”
Cheyenne managed a smile. For much of the ride, she’d been locked in her own dark thoughts about the damage to her family home. “Somebody forgot to tell Mother Nature.” She glanced toward the distant hills. “I hope you’re right, though. I’ve had enough of winter. Before I left, Wes brought me up to date on the cattle. It was a mistake taking that first herd up to the hills. We can blame it on an early break in the weather. It fooled us into thinking it was safe to start the spring migration. But as soon as the snow is gone for good, he’ll have our wranglers take the rest of the cattle to the high country for the season.”
“We always do the same. Much better rangeland in the hills.” He had a thought. “I bet our herd
s spend their summers on the same range.”
She nodded. “Could be. I’ve never found any strays bearing the Conway brand.”
“We keep a close eye on the herds.” Quinn adjusted his sunglasses. “Before we left I checked on the calf born in that snowstorm. He’s doing just fine.”
Her smile grew. “I can’t believe you thought to check on him, after all that’s happened.”
“I feel responsible for him. He was almost dinner for my wolf pack.”
She sobered. “I’m really sorry, Quinn. I wish there had been a way to spare your—”
He laid a hand over hers to stop her. “It’s old news. Besides, I’d have never met you if it hadn’t been for that wolf pack.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way before.” Her smile returned. She leaned back, determined to put aside her worries and enjoy the scenery. “How far to your ranch?”
“We’re on it. Our land started a couple of miles back. We won’t get to the ranch house for a while yet.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.” He fell silent, drinking in the sight of the land that owned his heart. “It’s funny. No matter how much time I spend in the wilderness, the thrill is always the same when I return.”
“I know what you mean.” Cheyenne thought about the charred remains of her home, and the work that would have to go into rebuilding it. She was torn between wanting to be there, to take charge of the cleanup and rebuilding, and knowing that she needed to step away and give the workers time to put it back into some sort of order before the actual rebuilding began. “When I left for college, I was so homesick after the first week, my dad sent Buddy to bring me home. I was only able to spend a day and a half there before we had to head back to college, but it made such a difference to sleep in my own bed and ride my horse out over the hills.”
“I remember missing home, too.” He looked over at her. “I guess that makes us the lucky ones.”
At her quizzical look he explained. “I had a roommate who was so glad to get away from home, he never wanted to go back. He hated everything about ranching. He called it drudge work, and said he’d rather haul garbage than have to muck another stall.”