BEYOND ALL REASON

by Judith Duncan

  Already on shaky ground emotionally, Kate had to swallow before she could answer. "I know he is," she responded unevenly.

  His grip tightened with surprising strength, and he continued on as if he hadn't heard her, his voice cracking. "I would have married his mama if she would have had me. Nearly broke my spirit when she died. Seems right that he ended up here." His hand shaking, he clumsily wiped the corner of his eye, his finger stiff and gnarled. "He's had a powerful lot of disappointment in his life, Tanner has. Powerful lot. I don't want to see him get anymore."

  Her throat tight, Kate gently smoothed down the thin wisps of hair along his temple, nearly overcome with feelings for this old man. The awful constriction finally eased, and she brushed her thumb across his sunken cheek as she forced an unsteady smile. "Neither do I," she whispered shakily.

  He gazed up at her; then, giving her hand a spastic squeeze, he closed his eyes, a thin trail of moisture tracking down his temple. "You've got soft hands, Kate Quinn. Soft hands."

  Feeling more emotionally raw, more lonely, than she could ever remember feeling, Kate continued to stroke the old man's temple until his grip slackened. Assured that he was asleep, she carefully pulled the blankets over his cold lands, then tucked them around his shoulders. Fighting against the persistent lump in her throat, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, so many feelings jammed up in her that she could barely identify them all. Lord, but she loved this man.

  * * *

  "Ma'am?"

  Rapping the ladle against the rim of the pot, Kate set the utensil on the saucer by the burner, then turned from the stove, the rainy-day gloom infiltrating the room. Wiping her hands on the towel over her shoulder, she glanced at Buddy, who was standing in the doorway, beads of moisture clinging to his hair. His face was unnaturally white. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

  He gave an apologetic shrug, wincing as he shifted his shoulder. He cautiously repositioned his strapped arm, his face turning even whiter. "I don't think I'm going to be able to make that trip to Pincher Creek, ma'am," he said, his voice uneven. "That black mare got ornery when I tried to bring her into the barn, and she jarred my shoulder some."

  Crossing the room, Kate tossed the tea towel on the table. "Does if feel like you've dislocated it again?"

  Buddy tried to smile. "No, ma'am. I don't think so. It just hurts like hell – like the dickens, ma'am."

  Kate eased his slicker off and hung it on a hook inside the utility room, then very gently checked the area around his shoulder. The joint felt properly seated, and the strapping was tight. Recognizing the lines of pain around his mouth, she indicated a kitchen chair. "Sit down and let's get some ice on it. I saw some painkillers in the first-aid kit."

  Supporting his arm, the hired hand wiped his feet on the mat, and Kate saw him sway slightly. Without giving him a chance to argue, she propelled him into the kitchen and plunked him down in a chair. "Sit. And don't argue."

  Buddy managed a weak smile. "Yes, ma'am."

  By the time Kate had his shoulder packed in ice, his color was somewhat better, but it was obvious that he was damned sore. Kate hadn't been too keen about him driving all the way to Pincher Creek with only one arm in the first place. Granted, once he hit the pavement it would have been smooth sailing, but there were seven miles of gravel road before getting to pavement, and those seven miles were something else altogether; they were bound to be a mess. Now his going was clearly out of the question. Under the circumstances, it wouldn't have mattered one way or the other, but Burt had taken the last pill of one prescription that morning, and since it was for his high blood pressure, she did not want him going without. Which meant a trip to Pincher Creek. And in spite of what Buddy thought, she was more than capable of driving on muddy country roads.

  Buddy looked absolutely appalled when Kate suggested it. Amused by his reaction, she didn't give him a chance to give her that code-of-the-west, little-woman routine. She gave him a dry, chastising look. "Don't go all male on me here, Buddy," she said, her tone slightly scolding. "My father and grandfather were both fishing guides up north, and I've driven places in four-wheel drives that would make your head spin. So don't worry. I can make it from here to Pincher without putting the truck in the ditch."

  Buddy fidgeted. "I don't know, ma'am. This side road is going to be heavygoing. And if you run into trouble, Tanner'll have my hide."

  Avoiding his gaze, she bound his shoulder in gauze to keep the ice packs in place, thinking that what he considered heavygoing and what she did were two different things.

  Tucking in the loose end of the binding, she looked down at him, reassuring him with a smile. "I have to get the prescription filled," she pointed out. "And I'll need you to stay with Burt."

  He gave her a worried look. "I don't mind at all staying with Burt, ma'am, but I do mind you heading off by yourself. It's damned – um, real miserable out there."

  Kate gave him a reassuring pat, her tone businesslike. "Believe me, I'll manage."

  It lad been days since Kate had been off the ranch property. It had been raining almost nonstop, but she had no idea just how much rain had fallen until she drove across the little bridge spanning the creek that wound its way through the Circle S pasture. The creek that Tanner had warned her about. It was deep and muddy and churning, the turbulent water breaching the steep banks and ominously spreading out through the willows into low-lying areas. There was water everywhere.

  In fact, the entire countryside was sodden, with ditches full and pastures flooded, with every ravine and gully a catch basin for the steady, eroding runoff. About three miles from the ranch there was another stream that cut through a sharp coulee, its meandering course now obscured by the overflow. The water was level with one shoulder of the road, the four-foot culvert either blocked or unable to handle the runoff. There were also other places along the road where the water was backed up, and one spot where the road itself was nearly submerged, the deep ruts full of water, the thick grass along the shoulders marking the edge of the ditch.

  Grateful that the boys had refused to come with her, Kate dumped any idea of spending an hour browsing in the shopping mall. If any more vehicles passed this way, this portion of road would be so chewed up that it would be impassible. And the last thing she wanted was to get stranded several miles from home.

  The rain had eased up a little by the time she reached the outskirts of town, but the streets and back alleys were flooded – rushing storm sewers, hubcap-deep puddles at intersections, the sidewalks awash with muddy water thrown up by passing cars.

  After getting the prescription refilled, she picked up some things she'd promised the boys – two new games, some comic books and some chocolate bars, then headed back to where she had parked the Bronco. The street was dismal and cloaked in gray, the brick-and-sandstone structures dark from days of rain, the lights from the shops visible in the unnatural dusk. Rain rattled against the cars parked along the curb as the steady drizzle suddenly turned into a drumming downpour.

  Rain bounced like pellets off the pavement, and traffic crept down the street, brake lights flashing as drivers slowed to accommodate the blinding rain. Turning her face from the slanting wetness, Kate pulled her hood closer and huddled in Burt's good canvas slicker, her purse and parcel hugged against her chest. Avoiding two pedestrians, she stepped to the corner, squinting into the downpour as she waited for a break in the traffic to cross the street. A truck passed from her left, and she stepped off the curb, catching a glimpse of a red car that was angled to pull out of a parking spot on the opposite side of the street. A red car that looked frighteningly familiar.

  The rush of alarm was so intense that for an instant she thought her heart would stop altogether. Clutching her parcel tighter, she stared at the vehicle, her heart suddenly jammed against her ribs, hammering frantically as fear churned through her. God, it couldn't be! There was no way that Roger could have tracked her here – no way. She had been so careful.

  Realizing that once the o
ncoming van passed, the car would have a clear lane to leave, Kate reacted. Darting around the back of the van, she sprinted across the street, panic compressing her lungs and a frantic prayer circulating in her mind. She had to find out. She had to know. God help her, she had to get close enough to see the back license plate. Dodging a group of Hutterites coming out of a store, she flew down the sidewalk, careless of the puddles collecting on the cement, disregarding the muddy water splashing up her legs. If the car got away before she got close enough, she would never know if hew closing in. And then her life would turn into another nightmare.

  Just as she darted around a car coming out of an alley, the van stopped, allowing the car to pull away from the curb, the large vehicle blocking her line of sight. Fear rising in her, she lengthened her stride to an all-out sprint, her breathing coming in labored gasps as she raced past the van, frantic to see the plate on the departing car. Praying that the driver couldn't see her in his rearview mirror, she twisted past an older woman with an umbrella; her dash brought to an abrupt halt by a large dog bounding between the parked cars. Grabbing a light standard to catch her balance, Kate jerked around, a sickening rush clutching at her when the red car turned the corner and she knew she'd just lost whatever chance she had. Her chest heaving and her lungs on fire, she propped her forearm against the light standard and covered her face with her hand, the sharp rush of panic giving way to crushing despair. God, she'd been so close. So close. One red car, one damned red car, and she was right back to where she'd started. Looking over her shoulder at every turn.

  She didn't know how long she stood there. Long enough, though, for her breathing to level out and her mind to clear. Swallowing against the sudden tightness in her throat, Kate dropped her hand, feeling as if her insides had turned to lead. Grasping the bag in one hand, she turned, her legs trembling, dread rising up like a sickness. She couldn't think about it. She had to shut off her mind and not think about it. He would never find her at the Circle S. And the boys were safe. Safe.

  Mindless of the rain, she started walking back toward the truck, her heart still slamming in her chest, the need to panic nearly overwhelming her common sense. He couldn't get to them. There was no trail to follow. God, let there be no trail to follow.

  Rounding the corner, she stepped into the full force of the wind-driven rain, the cold drops pelting against her face and running down her neck. The wind made her sliver, and suddenly, in her mind, she saw him as she'd seen him the last time they had come face-to-face. The panic broke free, and she started to run. She had to get home. She had to get to the boys. The trip home was a jumble of rain and panic and short periods of trying to convince herself that she was overreacting. It wasn't until she slowed for the turn onto the gravel road that she realized she had no recollection of leaving Pincher Creek, of passing Rita's service station, of making the turn onto the secondary paved road. Nothing. She remembered nothing. Except driving as fast as she dared and checking repeatedly in the rearview mirror to see if she was being followed.

  A bad case of the shakes hit her as she turned onto the gravel road, and she braked, closing her eyes tightly as she rested her head against her hands. God, she had been so scared. So damned scared. Determined not to let fear overwhelm her, she made herself concentrate on taking deep, steadying breaths, making her muscles relax. She had to calm down or she would end up in the ditch for sure. Taking one final stabilizing breath, she raised her head, deliberately loosening her grip on the wheel. Focusing strictly on the mechanics of what she was doing, she set the transmission for four-wheel drive, then took her foot off the brake. Seven miles. She had seven miles to go. That was all. Then she could have a cup of tea and a hot bath. And find some excuse to hold her boys. Kate clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on the wheel, trying to will away the sudden sting of tears. Seven miles. Just seven miles.

  The road was a mess, churned up from her trip out and worsened in the interim by the steady rain. By the time she reached the first bad mud hole, Kate was so intent on her driving that everything else had been eliminated from her mind. She stopped on the slight rise just before it, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip as she considered the stretch of road. The deep, gouged-out ruts were now completely filled with water, and only the deep ridges of the ruts and the grass along the edges protruded above the water. She could tell by the lay of the land that the ditches on either side were not that deep, but they weren't really the problem. The road itself was the problem. It had been soft before, but it was going to be worse now. She had ample clearance as far as the vehicle was concerned, and ample horsepower, but she had thirty feet of gumbo to plow through before she got to solid ground on the other side. Not her idea of a sure thing.

  Exhaling heavily, she tightened the tension on her seat belt, then put the vehicle in gear. She was going to need a damned good run at it or she would get mired up to the axles about halfway through.

  It was one wild ride. It wasn't until the vehicle started to lose momentum that things got really dicey. Kate's heart lurched in alarm as the truck slewed wildly, the rear end sliding perilously close to the invisible shoulder. It took all the skill she had to navigate back to the center, the cab rocking wildly as the wide tires settled back into the deep ruts. With the engine howling and wheels churning, she fought the drag as the vehicle slid sideways, knowing that if she lost momentum, the game would definitely be over. Inch by inch, she plowed through the mud hole, fighting both the weight of the road and the truck, mud flying from the clawing wheels. It seemed like forever, but finally the front wheels grabbed solid graveled ground, and with a final, lurching fishtail, she broke free. Letting go a shaky breath, Kate eased her grip on the steering wheel.

  But then the absolute recklessness of what she'd done hit her, and her throat closed up with another painful cramp, only this time her vision blurred with tears. She wasn't even rational. If she'd caught the crumbling shoulder with the road-bed so soft, she likely would have rolled the truck – and into a ditch of water to boot. Reaching the crest of the hill, she pulled to the side of the road and stopped, covering her face with her hands. God, she was coming apart piece by piece. Home. She just had to get home and make sure the boys were okay.

  Drying her eyes with the back of her hand, she swallowed against the unrelenting knot, remembering that she had promised she would call Buddy when she turned onto the gravel road. Reaching for the cellular, she tipped it to look at the readout. A jolt of near-panic coursed through her when the readout flashed the red no-service warning. But then the red light turned green, and Kate inhaled unevenly, her legs suddenly trembling. Lord, she had to get a grip or she would never make it home. Fortifying herself with another deep breath, she shifted the phone to her other hand and punched in the number, then hit Send, closing her eyes as she waited for the call to go through.

  Buddy answered, and Kate shifted the phone closer to her mouth. Striving to keep any traces of panic out of her voice, she told him where she was, and that she would be home soon. Keeping her voice level, she also told him that the road wasn't in very good shape, and that it might take her awhile. She listened to his caution; then, swallowing hard, she tightened her grip on the phone and asked how the boys were doing.

  "They're doing just fine, ma'am. They went down to feed the dogs, and now they've got Burt playing Chinese checkers."

  Knowing fear was making her irrational, but unable to stop herself, she said, her voice uneven, "You'd better keep them in the house, Buddy. I don't want them going anywhere near the creek. It's too dangerous."

  "Will do. I'll tell Burt you called. He's been fretting about when you'd be getting home."

  Kate looked out the window, struggling to will away another rush of tears. "Tell him I'm on my way. Okay?"

  "Will do."

  She had trouble seeing the End switch, and her hands weren't quite steady when she placed the phone back in its holder. Their security hadn't been breached. They were all safe and sound, and she was only minutes away. Just min
utes away.

  Raking her hair back from her face, she closed her eyes and released a shaky sigh; then, collecting herself, she put the truck in gear, automatically checking the rearview mirror before she pulled onto the road. There was nothing behind her but the falling rain and a long stretch of empty road.

  Suddenly so drained that she could barely function, Kate fixed her attention on the road, the shrouding gray drizzle and the whip-whap of the windshield wipers making her feel oddly disconnected, as if her mind were separated from the rest of her body. She wanted nothing more than to close up in a tight ball and try to convince herself that the red car meant nothing, that paranoia had sucked her into a frightening flash-back.

  But despite her self-lecture, the awful ache would not go away, and no amount of blinking would clear her vision. She would have given anything if she had someone to lean on for a while – someone who could stand between her and the terrifying reality of what was waiting for her out there. Just for a while.

  If she had felt drained before, she felt absolutely beaten when she crested the rise of land rimming the ravine and saw what lay between her and the ranch. The water had risen dramatically and now completely obliterated the road, but what alarmed her was that it had turned into a rushing torrent. Pulling off to the side, Kate put the vehicle in Park and stared at the churning, muddy water, stunned by what had transpired in a matter of two hours. It was as if a dam had broken somewhere upstream.

  Reliving the awful feeling that had churned through her when she'd spotted the red car, and now unable to get to her boys, Kate braced her elbow on the window ledge and covered her eyes with her hand, finally giving in to the intolerable pressure in her chest. It was the panic that had unraveled her – and the awful tension that had dogged her every mile on the long drive home. And it was also the accumulated strain of months of worry and moments of heart-stopping fear. For months she had shoved the constant anxiety to the back of her mind, refusing to give in to it. But now, stranded and alone, huddled in the cab of Tanner's truck, she let it take her under, as if, after months of stockpiling the fear and the panic and the frightening uncertainty, her own internal dam had broken.