Michael opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. He took out a small pocketknife, dug out the bullet, and bagged it.
“Looks like a Winchester 30-30, used for hunting big game.” He pocketed the bullet and stared at his brother. “Jack, you’ve really pissed someone off. Have you had any thoughts as to who?”
“Not a one, but the figure I saw moving through the yard that night seemed vaguely familiar.” Jack stood. He really needed to go back to bed but doubted he’d make it on his own steam.
“In what way?”
“His size, build. Silhouetted by the dusk to dawn light for only a minute or two, I didn’t get a good look before jumping in the truck to go after him. And we know how that ended.” His head started to pound, and he rubbed his temple with his good hand.
“Sit down, Jack. You’ve turned awful pale.” Michael grabbed his arm and led him to a chair, then he went back to lock the door. “Are you even supposed to be up?”
“No, but I hate being cooped up in my room.”
“Then why don’t I help you into the living room? You can lie on the couch and rest.”
“Okay, Mike. That sounds like a good idea.”
A knock sounded on the kitchen door before Jack got to his feet.
“It’s Joe,” said Lucas and went to open the door.
“Come in, Joe. Our boys find anything?” Lucas asked.
“Yeah, the shot came from the front corner of the barn. Russell found the shell casing and followed the path of trampled grass to the road. He must have had a vehicle waiting there.” He passed the casing to Michael. “He picked it up with his kerchief. None of us touched it.”
“That’s great, Joe. Maybe we can get a decent print. Can you show me the route the shooter took?”
“Sure. I’ll wait for you outside.”
Michael nodded and turned back to Jack. “On your feet, little brother.”
Jack stood and was glad for Michael’s helping hand. He felt weak and dizzy as they walked to the living room and greatly relieved when he landed on the couch. “Michael, could you ask Mom for my meds and a glass of water?”
“Sure. Where is she?”
“Upstairs cleaning my room, but it seems to be taking her a long while.”
“All right. Back in a sec.”
He left the room, and the next thing Jack heard was his mother’s voice as he lay back and tried to rest.
****
“Michael? What brings you here?” Winnie asked with a smile and a hug.
He hugged her back and then held her away from him. “Didn’t you hear the gunshot, Mom?”
“Gunshot? No, I had the radio on. Oh my goodness! Jack?” Her hands flew to her face in distress, and she turned quickly and headed for the door.
Michael grabbed her arm to halt her forward progress. “Yes, someone shot at Jack, but he’s fine. He’s lying on the sofa and needs one of his pain meds, so I came up to find you.”
“I’ll get it for him right away,” she said as she left the room and headed down the stairs.
“Careful, Mom. I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. Take my arm.”
“Michael, you’re such a caring man. You’ll make a good daddy when those babes arrive.”
Michael smiled at his mother. “I sure hope so.”
They’d reached the main floor without mishap.
“I’ll run to the kitchen and get Jack’s medicine,” she said, still holding Michael’s arm as they walked to the back of the house.
“Okay. I need to run. I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right, dear.” Hugs and kisses were exchanged. “Take care of yourself. A person’s not safe anywhere anymore.”
“I always do. Lock the door after I leave.”
Michael left and she locked the door and then rushed to take Jack’s medicine to him.
****
Jack’s mother soon appeared with pills and a glass of water.
“I knew you were overdoing it,” she said as she helped him sit up to swallow the meds. “Why doesn’t anybody listen to me?”
“Sorry, Mom.” He hated that he’d given her cause to worry.
She smiled and tucked a blanket around him. “You rest and stay inside. I just don’t like the thought of someone trying to hurt my baby. You’re already banged up enough. Would you like me to sit and keep you company?”
“No, that’s all right. I think I’ll catch some shuteye once the meds kick in.”
“All right. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll try to be a better patient.”
She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I love you just the way you are, so don’t go outside again trying to get yourself shot.”
“Wouldn’t if I could. Too tired.”
She patted his arm in a loving gesture and left. Her footsteps were light, but still, he knew she’d headed for the kitchen.
Jack closed his eyes and tried to relax, but the memory of wood splintering next to his head had his tension level higher than it had ever been. He wasn’t afraid, although he had been at the time. He was angry. Someone hated him enough to want him dead and he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out who or why.
Ugh! Bad play on words. It very well could cost him his life if he didn’t figure this out soon. He hadn’t made any enemies while in university—at least, none that he knew of. With the exception of Loreena, his relationships had ended amicably. Could Loreena be behind all this? Could she even load a gun, let alone shoot it? Could she have hired someone to do her dirty work? As far as he knew, none of her conquests were all that devoted to her. So who?
Then his eyes shot open as he remembered the security guard on campus. Had he been the only one taken in by her lies? How many people had she told? Geesh! What if it was Loreena’s father? No. Surely, if he wanted to avenge his daughter’s current condition, he’d want to meet man-to-man. But then again, what did he know about her family? Nothing, that was what. Anything could be possible. He’d have to call Michael later and run it by him.
Progress, he decided. He felt better for having a couple of leads and, pulling the blanket up to his chin, he closed his eyes again. This time his mind sought images of Allison, and he wondered how she and her little girl were doing. Pleasantly relaxed as slides of Allison ran through his inner vision, he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
“Can we swing, Mommy?”
“Sure, honey. Whatever you want. Just keep your sore leg from hitting the ground.”
They sat side-by-side on the porch swing, and Bridget pushed off with her good leg before settling back against the seat. Allison wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“What’s it like? The apartment?”
“Well, for starters, it’s attached to the clinic where I work. I had it built that way in case an emergency came in at night so I could work without having to wake you up.”
“Neat. What else?”
“It has a small kitchen and dining area, a living room, two bedrooms for you and me, and a humongous bathroom. Knowing how you like your showers, I didn’t get a regular tub. Instead, we have a glassed-in shower stall, and it’s huge.”
“What color is my bedroom?”
“Pink, but we can repaint it any color you want if you’d like something different.”
“Nah, pink is good. What color is your room?”
“It’s a dusty rose, a darker shade of pink than your room.”
“I bet it’s pretty.”
Allison frowned when she remembered the mess she’d left it in. “Yes, it is, but I think I might like a light purple better.”
“Like Grandmom’s lilacs?”
“Yes, exactly like the lilacs.”
“Can I help paint?” Bridget asked.
“Sure, as soon as you have two good legs under you again.” Maybe she’d call Terry and have him paint it before they got back. She didn’t want to refuse her daughter’s help, but B
ridget went wild with a paintbrush in her hands. She’d had to wash Bridget’s hair three times to get all the paint out after they’d painted her bedroom here.
The patio door slid open, and her mother appeared with a tray of drinks.
“I thought you could use something cold to drink.”
Allison noticed a pitcher and three glasses on the tray. “Sure, thanks. Why don’t you join us?”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said rather stiffly.
Bridget giggled. “You’re funny, Gram.”
“Am I now?” She smiled at Bridget, her expression quickly changing to one of love and devotion.
Did Mom ever look at me like that?
“Shall I pour?” Allison asked.
“Yes, you can pour while I go back for our snacks. We’ll have a picnic on the patio to celebrate the prodigal’s return.”
“What’s a prod eagle?” asked Bridget.
“Prodigal refers to someone who’s been away for a long time,” said Allison as she speared her mother with a rueful gaze. “In this case, me.”
“Yay! We can have a party ‘cause Mommy’s home. Will there be presents?”
“Oh! I forgot. I brought you a few things. They’re in the truck. I’ll go get them now. Wait here.”
“Okay.”
Allison went through the house and grabbed her keys off the counter. The packages were on the passenger seat, so she walked around the truck to open that door. Just as she saw the spray-painted message written on the truck box, a motor revved and a black van with tinted windows took off down the street.
She hadn’t been paranoid after all. Someone had followed her all the way from the clinic. For what purpose? To scare her? To leave the same crude message on her truck as he had in the apartment? She hoped her mother wouldn’t see it before she could paint over it.
Allison grabbed the packages for Bridget and stormed back into the house. She stopped just inside the door and counted to ten, then counted again for good measure. It wouldn’t do for her mother to sense something wrong or to upset Bridget for that matter.
Where had she left her cell phone? She glanced around the kitchen and spied it on the counter beside her teacup. As quietly as she could, she grabbed the phone and went back outside to call Michael.
“Grayson.”
“Michael, this is Allison. I think the guy with the muddy boot prints followed me to my mother’s house.”
“Are you all right? Where are you? I’ll be right there?”
“I’m in Winnipeg.”
“Good Lord! He followed you all that way?”
“Yes. He’s driving a black Ford van. Not a new one, though.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
“No, the window was tinted. He spray-painted the same damn message on my truck and stuck around until I’d seen it. The bastard.”
“Allison, I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I?”
“I’m careful. I’m also mad as a hornet. Why is he doing this? Why me?”
“We’re sure it’s connected to Jack in some way, but nothing definite yet. Your description of the van will help. Are you staying there long?”
“For a few days. Why?”
“I’ll alert the Winnipeg detachment to be on the alert. When you head back, let me know and I’ll have one of them follow you part way.”
“All right, Michael. And thanks. Keep me posted.”
“I will. If anything else happens, call me.”
“Sure. Uh, Michael, my mother and daughter will be coming back with me and my apartment is still a mess. I hate to ask, but can you arrange for a cleaning crew?”
“I sure can. The apartment will be clean as a whistle on your return.”
“Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”
“Not to worry. Talk to you later.”
The line went dead, and she pocketed her phone as she turned to go back into the house. Her mother stood in the open doorway.
“I knew there was a man involved.”
Allison heaved a heavy sigh. “Mom, it’s not what you think.”
“Of course it is. You haven’t had time for your daughter because you’ve been busy with someone else.”
“A lot of someone elses … horses, cows, pigs, sheep, dogs, cats, rabbits. Need I go on?”
“Harumph! They all have owners. Who is he? Does he like kids?”
“Mom, I am not seeing anybody. I wish I was. Life gets pretty lonely sometimes.”
All the wind seemed to escape from her mother in a rush, and they stood staring at each other. Then her mother held out her arms. Amazed at the change, Allison walked into the embrace gratefully, and her mother held her tight. Had she sensed how much Allison was hurting?
“My poor baby. I’ve tried to make life easier for you, but it’s just not the same. You’re young yet. You’ll find someone worthy of you.”
“I don’t want anybody. There was a man, briefly, but it didn’t work out and I’m left hurting. No more. I have you and Bridget, and I have my work. That’s enough.”
“When your father died, I lived in a void. You were my only light, the only thing that kept me going. I loved you so much and I just wanted to keep you safe. I became overprotective, critical of your every action. I see that now. Don’t live as I did, Allison. Bridget will grow up and leave home and you’ll be old and alone like me. Leave your heart open to love. It’ll come.”
“Oh, Mom. I wish you’d told me this before. I’ve tried so hard to be a person you could love.”
“Baby, I’ve loved you since before you were born. That’s never going to change. Now, let’s go join that girl of ours. She must be champing at the bit by now.”
With arms linked together, they walked inside. Allison felt happier than she’d been in a long time. Not even the spray-painted message on her truck could diminish her happiness. She’d have to go to the hardware store and buy some spray paint to cover it. That was all. She had her mother back and her daughter. What more could she hope for?
If a niggling little voice inside her head whispered, “Jack,” she pushed it aside.
****
Jack’s recovery progressed nicely in the following days, although his moody demeanor kept everyone away—everyone except his mother. Such was a mother’s love. He stayed inside, away from windows and doors, but he didn’t like it. Allison hadn’t called. He didn’t know if she was back in town or not. He’d picked up the phone to call her a dozen times or more and ended up hanging up again. He didn’t want to intrude on her time with her daughter, but he missed her terribly.
Would she forgive him for sending her away? He hoped so. Life sure wasn’t worth much without her. He wandered into the downstairs office and spent some time recording ranch info and running reports. The ranch was in good shape, but the changes he’d implement with the stock and equipment would bring it up-to-date and make it a more viable venture. He loved the ranch and couldn’t wait to get back in the saddle again. Even mending fences was preferable to sitting around and doing nothing.
He rested his head against the chair back and closed his eyes. Five more weeks of downtime sat heavy on his restless spirit. It wouldn’t be nearly as bad if Allison were there to keep him company. For the hundredth time, he wondered what her little girl looked like and if she was all right. He should have asked more questions, but he’d been so angry and hurt with Allison, he hadn’t thought beyond the fact that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about Bridget sooner.
“Hey, bro. You sleeping?”
Jack opened his eyes without moving to sit straight. “Hi, Michael. No, just resting, something I do too damn much of lately. What’s up?”
“We have a lead on a vehicle that may be involved. It’s a black Ford van. Know anyone who drives one?”
“Not off hand. How does that figure in?”
“Before I answer that, do you know of anyone who’d be severely annoyed at your dating Allison?”
“Not a one. Although, being so beautifu
l, I assume she’s had her share of admirers. Why?”
“While you were in the hospital, Allison’s apartment was trashed and crude words written on the walls.”
“What?” Jack exclaimed, suddenly alert. He jerked upright so fast, his head began to ache.
Michael held up a hand palm outward. “Wait. There’s more. She called and told me someone followed her to her mother’s place and spray painted the same words on her truck. I think her troubles are connected to you.”
“Good God! She never said a word. Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine, but for someone to follow her all the way to Winnipeg, he has to be really obsessed with causing trouble. It might only be scare tactics for her to break off with you, but I’m worried about her.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“You had only just come out of surgery. She didn’t want you to worry. But now, you need to know so we can figure this out. I’ve been investigating every lead, but I’ve come to a dead end. I could use your help.” Michael sat in the chair in front of Jack’s desk and took a notebook and pen out of his pocket. “So think. Who do you know that would cause trouble and take a shot at you?”
“Honestly, Michael. I don’t know. Other than Loreena, no one comes to mind. And we already ruled her out.”
“Okay, let’s think about Loreena for a minute. Could she have had a boyfriend that was jealous of her obsession with you?”
Jack picked up a pencil and tapped it on the table as he spoke. “She could, but you’ve met her, Mike. Loreena isn’t the type to garner that type of devotion.”
“Maybe it was someone who believed her lies about the baby.”
Jack snorted a laugh. “Other than the security guard on campus, I can’t think of anyone.”
“Whoa there. Back up. What’s this about a security guard?”
Jack filled him in on his last day on campus.
“You got a name?” Michael asked, his pen poised over the notebook.
“No, sorry.”
“Description?”
“He’s an average height, shorter than I am, sort of squat and stocky, but well-muscled to be able to carry Loreena any distance. Brown hair cut short.”
“What was he wearing?”
Cowboy Dreamin' (Thunder Creek Ranch Book 8) Page 15