by Cheree Alsop
“If that’s the case, it might be a smart idea to tell Martin about the copycats,” the doctor replied.
I stared at him. “How am I supposed to do that? He has no reason to believe me.”
Dr. Carrison smiled. “Give him a reason. My brother is a reporter through and through.” His smile deepened. “It helps when he knows who he’s talking to.”
I blinked. “You mean tell the reporter of the Bulldog Bulletin that I’m the rider he’s been writing about?”
Dr. Carrison nodded. “I leave it up to you, of course, but it could help to have a friend on the inside.” He spread a numbing solution over the wounds. “I’m guessing you would prefer Steri-Strips over stitches.”
“I’d prefer anything over stitches,” I replied.
“How about staples?”
I glanced back to see if he was joking. He gave me a serious look. “If you were a normal patient who would go home and rest to give these lacerations the time they need to heal, I might recommend Derma bond or the Steri-Strips. But you aren’t like that. Steri-Strips are fine if you don’t stress the wound too much and keep the bandages clean. Dermabond is also good if you can take it easy, but staples might hold better, given your tendency to move.”
“I’ll take it easy,” I promised.
He rolled his eyes. “Steri-Strips, then. But if you come back, you’re getting the staples.” He paused. “And don’t go to your girlfriend again for wound care. You’re lucky you didn’t get an infection when she redid the stitches on your leg.”
“She sterilized everything in rubbing alcohol,” I replied. I gritted my teeth as he pressed the wound on my back together before placing the first strip.
“This is easier with a nurse to help,” Dr. Carrison suggested.
“I thought you liked a challenge,” I replied.
He gave a quiet chuckle and continued working.
By the time I made my way out to Cassidy’s truck, I felt like a mummy. The bandages and gauze Dr. Carrison had wrapped around my chest and back were constricting. He did it on purpose, he said, to remind me to take it easy.
I climbed carefully into Cassidy’s truck.
“Was Dr. Carrison there?” she asked.
I nodded. “I think he lives there.”
She cracked a smile. “Because you keep him plenty busy.”
I chuckled. “I try.”
I leaned against the back of the seat and hid a wince at the pressure against the knife wound. I set the bag of bandages the doctor had given me on the floor, then let out a breath. “How’s Sandy?”
Cassidy glanced at me as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “Sad that the Black Rider has turned evil,” she replied with a spiteful smile.
I rolled my eyes. “I might have a plan to fix that.”
“Oh, really?” she pressed.
I gave her a tightlipped smile.
She laughed. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Heaven knows you have plenty of them. Just remember who your friends are.”
“Thank you for the ride,” I replied.
“There it is!” she said. “I was wondering when that would come out.”
I set a hand on her arm as she drove. “Seriously, Cass. I hate everyone worrying about me, and when I get hurt, it only makes it worse. It wasn’t that bad this time, and I didn’t want Mom or the others to know. Thank you for helping me.”
She gave me a skeptical glance. “You’re welcome. But try not to have a next time.”
“Deal,” I agreed with a smile. I tipped my head against the headrest and closed my eyes. The numbing cream Dr. Carrison had spread across the knife wounds was wearing off. There was a bottle of pain medication in the bag. I ignored it.
“Nice jacket,” Cassidy noted.
I opened my eyes and glanced at her. “Thanks.” I unzipped it and showed her the black interior. “I figure the copycats won’t be needing it anymore.”
She laughed. I closed my eyes again and listened to the country music that twanged from Cassidy’s radio.
WE ARRIVED HOME JUST as everyone was sitting around the table for dinner. Mom gave me a warm smile as I took the seat next to her. Cassidy sat on the other side of the table by her dad.
“How was work?” I asked Mom.
“Great,” she replied. “It was busy, so the day went fast.”
“The Sparrow Market was busy?” I asked skeptically.
“As busy as it gets,” she replied with a laugh. “What about you? You seem to be in a good mood.”
“Copycat Black Riders hit the store while we were looking at chicks and bunnies,” Cole said, filled with enthusiasm.
Mom looked from Cole to Uncle Rick. “Is that true?” she asked.
Uncle Rick nodded. “It was a bit tense.”
Aunt Lauren set a bowl of her homemade chili and crackers in front of him. Jaren helped dish up the rest of the bowls. “We stayed at the back of the store. No one was hurt.”
Mom looked at me. “And you kept out of it?”
I wanted to lie, but I couldn’t with everyone watching me. “For the most part,” I said evasively.
Uncle Rick’s gaze tightened. “What does that mean?”
I glanced at Cassidy. She was watching me with interest, curious what I would say. I turned my attention to the bowl of chili Aunt Lauren had set in front of me. “You told me not to fight them in the store, so I didn’t.”
I heard a grunt from Uncle Rick. When I glanced up, there was humor on his face instead of the disapproval I expected to see. “All right, then, what did you do?”
I fought back a smile at his attentive tone. “I, uh, took the keys from their motorcycles, and then convinced them to stick around for the sheriff.”
Uncle Rick shook his head, but maintained the good-humored gaze. “Apparently, I’m going to have to be more specific next time.”
“I just figured that if we caught them now, it would make all of our jobs a bit easier later,” I explained.
The worried look on Mom’s face deepened. “Do they know who they are?”
“I have a strong suspicion that one of them came from the Bullets, but the other was a stranger,” I answered.
“So the sheriff is holding them?” Jaren asked.
I nodded. “They know who I am. It could be dangerous if they tell whoever they‘re working with, so the sheriff is keeping them in lockdown until things clear up.”
“Things are getting too crazy,” Mom said.
I realized I had made a mistake. Mom worried enough as it was. I was lucky she hadn’t yet forbidden me to ride altogether. The look on her face said she was about to.
“Sounds like he’s got it under control,” Uncle Rick said.
I stared at him. Before Mom could protest, there was a knock at the back door. I glanced out the window and recognized the blue truck in the driveway before I heard Mom’s surprised greeting.
“Evenin’, folks,” Deputy Addison said, stepping into the kitchen. He held his hat in his hands and twirled it uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No problem at all,” Aunt Lauren exclaimed. “We have plenty more chili, if you’d like a bite.”
At her mother’s nod, Cassidy quickly grabbed another place setting and set up a seat between my mom and me without waiting for the deputy’s answer. I scooted to the side and kept my face carefully expressionless as Addison sat down with an embarrassed smile.
“Much obliged,” he said. “It smells fantastic.”
“What brings you to this part of town?” Uncle Rick asked before taking a big bite of his chili.
Cole noisily crumbled enough crackers in his chili to overflow the bowl, then stirred it around, making a mess on the table.
“Well, uh . . .” Deputy Addison glanced at me. Reassurance seemed to fill him and he tipped his head toward me. “Just checkin’ on Kelson here. He was very helpful in, uh, detaining the copycats, and I wanted to make sure he was all right.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” The thought t
hat he had driven the fifteen minutes from town just to make sure I was all right meant a lot to me. I glanced over in time to see him grab my mom’s hand under the table. Her fingers tightened in his and she gave him a warm smile. I shook my head at my naiveté and took another bite of chili without tasting it. As much as I told myself I was all right with the deputy’s interest in my mom, it was still going to take some time to get used to.
“I hear Harry Mathewson’s had some hay stolen,” Uncle Rick said. “Any word on the whereabouts?”
“We’ve been searching. It’s definitely a local, and he hits at night. Harry switched to using white bailing string instead of the normal yellow or orange everyone around here uses. It should help us track down the thief if he strikes again. In the meantime, Harry’s loaded for bear. I wouldn’t visit him at night,” the deputy warned with a grin.
Uncle Rick laughed. “That’s Harry for ya.”
The conversations disappeared into the background of my thoughts. As much as I liked to see Mom smile again, it hurt to know she would never smile for Dad like that again. I needed more time to get used to the idea.
I pushed back from the table. Everyone looked at me. “There’s something I need to do,” I said quickly.
Uncle Rick nodded. “Do it, then.”
I looked at Cassidy. “Want to help me?”
Surprise filled my cousin’s face. She glanced at her father.
“You’re excused,” he said. “You’ve got dish duty tonight, so we’ll save them for you whenever you get back.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
He gave her a wide smile.
Cassidy set her plate and bowl in the sink. I followed, then led the way to the mudroom.
“Wear something you can get dirty,” I suggested.
“You’re not going to tell me what we’re doing?” she asked.
I shook my head. “You’ll see.”
She followed me to the four-wheeler and climbed on back. Jake fell in beside us as I drove to the West house. Buck barked at us from his kennel. I turned off the four-wheeler in the driveway and crossed to greet the dog.
“I thought you weren’t a dog person,” Cassidy pointed out.
“I’m not,” I answered, fighting back a smile at Buck’s enthusiastic, slobbery greeting. “But Buck is a people dog.”
We left Jake near Buck and walked to the door. My heart began to pound in my chest. I laughed inwardly at the fact that I could take on armed copycat riders without a second thought, but talking to Madelyn’s father made me feel like I had run a marathon. I knocked on the door.
It opened almost immediately, as though he had been waiting. “Heard you coming for a mile,” he grumbled. “What do you want? Maddy’s not here.”
“I know; she said she wouldn’t be back until the weekend,” I replied, trying to keep smiling. “I wanted to surprise her with something.”
Mr. West opened the door a shade further. He peered out suspiciously. “You Rick’s daughter?” he asked, ignoring me.
Cassidy nodded. “I’m Cassidy, his oldest. I’m a sophomore.”
He nodded. “Thought as much.” He seemed to remember I was there and forced himself to look back at me. “Are you done?”
I shook my head and fought down a surge of frustration. “Mr. West, I’d like to repaint her room.” A shadow crossed his face; I rushed on before he could deny my request. “We skipped it completely when we painted the house.” I could feel Cassidy’s interested look. I continued, “I know she doesn’t want to go in there. I want to make it better for her, to make it a place where she feels safe.”
I couldn’t read the emotions on his face before he turned to look inside the house while he debated. “I put new carpet up there,” he said without looking back at me. “She hasn’t seen it yet. She refused to go in there. I was tempted to give her my room instead so she wouldn’t have to.”
Those were more words than he had ever spoken to me, although his back was still turned, so I wasn’t sure if I could consider it actually to me, but I took it as a good sign.
“Let me try,” I urged. “Maybe we can chase out the memories and make it a sanctuary again.”
He nodded without looking at us and walked down the hall, leaving the door open.
“Does that mean yes?” Cassidy asked quietly.
“I think so,” I replied.
I stepped inside.
Cassidy gasped when she reached the living room. “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “It looks like a rainbow in here!”
The plastic was still down, but the paint looked bright and fresh. The fading sunlight streamed through the windows where Mr. West had taken down the curtains. Tiny dust flecks twirled within the beams, lighting the red, orange, and blue, and purple walls as if we had stepped into a fairy tale. The white trim accentuated the paint beautifully. It looked even better than I remembered.
“Do you think you could get Dad to do this to our house?” she asked in a hushed voice as though she had stepped into a sacred place. She twirled in a circle, taking it all in.
“He’d think I was crazy if I suggested it.”
She laughed. “You’re right. I’d better do the talking.”
I picked up the cans of orange and yellow paint. They were Madelyn’s favorites. She loved sunrises just as her mother had loved rainbows. The orange was so sunny and bright, and the yellow set it off with softer hues. It was perfect. I grabbed a roll of blue tape and a folded stack of plastic. “Come on.”
Cassidy followed me up the stairs. I hesitated in front of Madelyn’s door. For a moment, memories swept over me. In them, I climbed through the window. Madelyn stood over the bloody form of her uncle, a bat raised in her hands as she prepared to finish him and end the terror he had brought into her life. I grabbed the bat from her hands just as her father burst through the door. Madelyn’s aunt had taken her out while I told her father that his brother was a rapist and Madelyn had been defending herself.
Guilt weighed heavily on me. I had beaten Mitch once as the Black Rider and Magnum had helped me chase him out of town. He had returned the night of Silvia West’s funeral. I wanted to bring the bat down on him myself. Instead, Mr. West helped me drive him to the back of the bar where I had beaten him the first time. I called the sheriff and told him that I was responsible for Mitch’s condition. He lived, but barely.
“Are you all right?” Cassidy asked softly. Her expression said she guessed my thoughts.
I let out a breath and nodded. “Let’s make this a better place,” I replied. I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
New beige carpet had been laid down. All of the furniture had been taken out, making our job easier. I got to work taping around the carpet so we didn’t ruin it with our paint. Cassidy spread the plastic across the floor.
“What color do you want where?” she asked.
Madelyn’s window faced east. I pointed at the wall across from it. “Let’s paint that one orange. It’ll glow when the sun comes up.”
“Great idea!” Cassidy said. “The side walls can be yellow.”
I nodded. “And we’ll leave the trim white.”
“She’s going to love it,” Cassidy breathed, smiling at the thought. She dipped her brush into the orange paint.
I DROVE US BACK to the Ashby house, feeling exhausted but happy. It had been a crazy day, but I was thrilled with what we had been able to do in Madelyn’s room. It took two trips to town to get everything right, but even Mr. West agreed that Madelyn would be happy with the results.
My cheer faded at the sight of Deputy Addison’s truck still in the driveway.
“Doesn’t he have a home somewhere?” I muttered as I climbed gingerly off the four-wheeler.
“Does it bother you that he’s hanging out with your mom?” Cassidy asked. I shook my head, but she gave me a searching look. “Tell the truth, Kel.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m glad she’s happy. It’s just . . .”
I studied the heavy shadows near the house. “It’s just that Zoey and I used to imagine Dad coming home and them getting back together.”
Cassidy nodded. She leaned in silence against the four-wheeler for a moment. When she spoke, I could tell she was really taking the time to try to understand. “I think that would be hard. I couldn’t imagine my parents getting separated. Your dad was a good guy; I remember him.”
She fell silent again. When she spoke, her voice was subdued. “I remember when your mother called my mom. I could hear her crying on the other end of the phone. After she told me what happened, I ran in to my dad and threw my arms around his neck. I begged him never to leave. I couldn’t stop crying.”
Tears showed in her eyes. I put an arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Cass.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t. No kid should have to live through that.”
“I was fourteen. I survived.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me a watery smile. “Yeah, you were practically a man.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. She laughed and slapped my shoulder. “You still act like a kid,” she said.
“Look at you, Miss Pigtails,” I teased, pulling her blonde hair. “These are mature?”
“Country girls don’t need to explain their hair,” she replied. She led the way to the house. “Come on. You’ve got to face the music sometime.”
“I prefer to avoid it as long as possible,” I said, eyeing the door.
She pulled the screen door open and motioned for me to follow. I gave in and entered the mudroom. Laughter met us. I kicked off my paint-splattered shoes before crossing to the kitchen. I paused at the sight of Aunt Lauren and Uncle Rick sitting at the table with Mom and Deputy Addison.
“Hi, guys,” Mom said with a hint of surprise, as if she hadn’t realized we were gone. “Have you been painting?” she asked.