Tucked Away

by Jennie Marts

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah, it was.” Sophie looked sideways at Charlie, as if measuring her up against an imaginary yardstick. “Can I tell you something? Something I haven’t really told anyone?”

  Sensing the gravity of her question, she took a towel from the counter and dried her hands. She turned to Sophie to give her all of her attention. “Of course.”

  Sophie swallowed. “I don’t have any proof, or anything, but I have this funny feeling that Gigi’s death might not have been an accident.”

  What? Not an accident? What’s she implying? She set the towel on the counter. “Why would you think that? Was someone threatening Gigi?”

  “I don’t know. There was a lot going on that week, and Gigi was really stressed out with the pressure to sell the farm. I talked to her on the phone that afternoon, and she sounded really funny. Not quite herself. She said something about feeling forced to give up Tucked Away, but when I asked her more about it, she brushed it off and said she would see me that weekend.” Sophie sniffled. “But I didn’t see her that weekend. I didn’t ever see her again.”

  She pulled the girl into her arms, offering a small measure of comfort. “I am so sorry. It’s terrible what happened to Gigi, but I’m not sure there’s any reason to suspect foul play.”

  Sophie nodded. “I know. It’s more of a weird feeling. It just doesn’t make sense that she would have fallen down the stairs. She lived in this house for sixty years and suddenly, right after she claims she was being forced to sell her land, she misses a step and falls. It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Have you told anyone how you feel about this?”

  The teenager shrugged. “I mentioned something to Cash, but he was so upset about finding her and trying to take care of everything that he didn’t pay much attention. I don’t have any proof, so I couldn’t really go to the police or anything.” Sophie looked up at her, her eyes sincere below her long eyelashes. “I felt stupid telling anyone else. But I trust you. I just know something wasn’t right about Gigi falling down those stairs.”

  She hugged the young girl and promised that she would give it some thought.

  Not that her thoughts counted for much these days. She felt so jumbled, trying to figure out the workings of the farm, what her responsibilities were, how to fit in with the community, and why she was so attracted to the town veterinarian. And if all that wasn’t enough, her editor had emailed her about the progress on her latest book. Or the non-progress, depending on how you looked at it.

  Charlie had slid Gigi’s craft table in front of the window in the upstairs attic room and set up a makeshift desk. She set out paper and the purple pens she liked to use when writing. She found a mug warmer and plugged it in to keep her coffee warm.

  She lit a candle in the room, the sticker labeling it Grandma’s Kitchen. It filled the room with the cozy scent of cinnamon and vanilla. The stage was set for the perfect writing atmosphere, but the vanilla-scented air did nothing to free her writer’s block.

  The blank page of a new word document mocked her from the computer screen. She tried to work on plot structure and character development but was distracted by the constant activity unfolding on the farm below her.

  Gazing through the large plate-glass window, it seemed like Charlie was watching an episode of reality TV. Except, on a farm. And no one was wearing bikinis.

  Cash and Buckshot made frequent appearances throughout the day as they moved about the farm. Driving in huge round bales of hay skewered on the forks at the front of a tractor. Throwing round coils of barbed wire into the bed of one of the old pickups in the yard. Heading out to repair fence line. Simply feeding the slew of barnyard cats or shooing Clyde, the goat, away from the laundry hanging on the clothesline.

  To add one more layer of distraction, she had her own batch of cats in the attic room. How could she focus on clever dialogue and creating tension between her characters when there were three kittens clambering around her feet or sleeping in her lap?

  She could see why Gigi loved this farm. There was something serene about the way a gust of wind moved the huge propellers of the windmill or how a slight breeze rippled the multi-layered green leaves of the giant cottonwood trees flanking the sides of the farmhouse. The pace of the farm seemed slow and easy, even though there was constant activity and chores being tended to.

  Perhaps the most distracting thing keeping her from her writing was the memory of the conversation she’d had with Sophie concerning her grandmother’s suspicious demise.

  Why would someone want to murder an old woman, and who could want to hurt Gigi? Was there some truth to the teenager’s story, or was this just a figment of a lonely teenager’s imagination?

  The sound of a diesel engine drew her eye to the window, and she watched as a cloud of dust followed Cash’s truck into the driveway. She headed downstairs and sat in her favorite chair on the front porch to wait for him.

  The lean cowboy emerged from the truck, then turned and lifted a familiar looking black and white dog from the cab of the truck.

  Hmmm. Now what’s this about?

  Cash approached the porch and set the dog down at her feet. “Hey there. I brought you a little something from Zack.”

  She reached down to pet the dog’s head. She really was a sweet thing. But Charlie sure didn’t need a reminder of Zack. She’d been working hard to keep herself occupied and not think about the handsome vet.

  The dog, who Zack had christened “Joy”, set her head in Charlie’s lap. The stitched-up ear flopped back against her head, and her eyes shone bright with mischief.

  The feelings in her heart competed between affection for the abandoned puppy and the ache at the memories of her stolen kiss with Zack.

  “It looks like she remembers you.” Cash leaned over and stroked the dog’s furry neck, then scratched the dog behind her good ear and was rewarded with a whine of contentment. “Zack said you were at the clinic the day she was brought in. He needs somebody to keep her until he can find a home for her. Border collies need a lot of room to run, and things to keep their attention, so he thought you’d be okay with having her out here.”

  “Um…sure…yeah.” What’s one more animal added to the menagerie of characters being introduced into her life? “But I’ve never had a dog before. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of one.”

  “Dogs eat, sleep, and poop. That’s about the extent of it. Don’t worry, Buckshot and I can help you. But you’re in charge of feeding her and bringing her in the house at night.”

  “Deal.” She stroked the dog’s head. “She is a sweet dog.”

  He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Zack also sent along this note.” It appeared the message had been written on a sheet from a prescription pad at the clinic. She swallowed at the sudden lump in her throat as she opened the note and read Zack’s words to her. Hoping you can find a place for Joy in your home. For a little while…or forever.

  Had Zack purposely meant the double-meaning as he scribbled down the note?

  Cash narrowed his eyes at her. “You all right?”

  “Of course. Just being sentimental.” Charlie shook her head and stood as she stuffed the note into her back pocket. Looking across the yard, she saw a lone figure walking across the field toward the farmhouse.

  It was evident the moment the figure saw the black and white visitor standing on the porch by the way she broke into a converse-footed run, her ponytail swinging with each stride.

  The dog must have recognized the figure as a kindred-spirit and took off from the porch to meet Sophie in the yard.

  The teenager flopped on the grass and giggled as the puppy licked her face and attempted to crawl into her lap. “Awww. She’s so cute. Where did you get her? I love her. What’s her name?”

  Charlie laughed. “Her name is Joy. We think she may have been hit by a car, so she’s going to stay here for a few days”—or forever—“while she recuperates.”

  “
Oh, Joy. What a pretty name. You’re such a good girl.” Sophie stroked the dog’s fur, conscious of the stitches but with the confidence of someone comfortable with animals. Joy responded by licking Sophie’s ear, eliciting another round of girlish giggles.

  Charlie turned to Cash. “I guess she’s staying.”

  “I guess so.”

  Sophie looked up at them from her spot in the grass. “So, what are you guys doing? Can I hang out with you today?”

  “Well, I’m spending another day procrastinating instead of working on my new book. So, I’m sure you could help me with that.”

  “I was gonna saddle up and ride the fence line this morning.”

  The teenager grinned, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Oh, let’s do that. Can we come with you, Cash? Come on, Charlie, it’ll be fun. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

  “Yes. I ‘saddle up’ and ride my stallion to the office every day. I tie it to my employee-of-the-month hitching post in the parking lot.” She huffed in sarcasm. “Of course I’ve never ridden a horse before. I’ve never even ridden a bicycle.”

  Cash and Sophie looked at her in shock.

  “Look, I’ve ridden a subway, ridden a bus, and ridden in a taxi. I have even hitched a ride, but I was young and that’s a different story. I have ridden in an airplane, but I have never ridden a horse.”

  Cash smiled that devilish grin of his, which meant his mind had probably gone to one more naughty kind of ride she had taken. “Until today.”

  Sophie clapped her hands and bounced up and down in the grass, sending the dog into a flurry of yips and barks.

  Charlie envied her constant flow of energy. “Yes, I guess, until today.”

  …

  “This looks much easier in the movies,” Charlie said, squirming in the saddle atop a golden mare.

  Cash cinched the strap tighter across the horse’s belly, securing the saddle. He looked up at her from under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “Just trust the horse. Her name is Ginger, and this old gal is about a hundred years old. She’s one of the sweetest horses we have on the farm.” He patted the horse’s neck. Apparently, even equine were not immune to his ladies’ man charm, because the horse nuzzled her large head into his chest.

  “What if she breaks into a frenzied run and tries to butt me off?”

  He chuckled. “First of all, the term is ‘buck’ you off, not ‘butt’. You know, like a bucking bronco. Second of all, this horse hasn’t broken into a run or any kind of frenzy since Reagan was in office. We let little kids ride her, she’s so gentle.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Sophie said, riding up to her on a horse two feet taller than the one she sat on. “I used to ride Ginger when I was little. You really just have to sit there. She’ll follow our horses.”

  Sophie clicked her tongue and pulled on the reins, turning her horse to the pasture. Her ponytail flying, she bounced up and down in the saddle like a cowgirl Tigger.

  Cash swung up onto his horse with practiced ease, and rode over so his horse stood beside hers. “Just kick her a little. She’ll follow along behind us.”

  She nudged the horse with her heels, but Ginger didn’t budge.

  “You have to really kick her,” Sophie called over her shoulder. “You’re not gonna hurt her.”

  She kicked a little harder. The horse eased forward and began a slow plod behind Cash’s horse.

  An excited yip came from Joy, who ran alongside the horses. Charlie turned to see Clyde, the goat, bringing up the rear of the pet parade. “Is it okay if the goat comes along?”

  “That stupid goat does whatever the hell it wants to,” Cash said. “He’ll turn around if he gets tired.”

  “What if he gets lost?”

  “He knows this farm better than I do. He could find his way back to the barn in a snow storm. Don’t worry, he knows who feeds him, and that dang goat never misses a meal.”

  Charlie got lost in the ride. She was surprised at the vastness of the property and enjoyed seeing Tucked Away from a new vantage point. They rode through pasture land and along tree-lined paths worn hard from countless hooves crossing to graze.

  They crested a hill with a fence line running along the top edge. In the middle of the fence sat a wooden set of stairs, going up one side of the fence and down the other. A wooden banister painted bright purple was attached to one side of the stairs.

  Embellished with stamped hearts and moons, the banister also wore an array of glittery stickers. As her horse walked closer, she could make out the words Sophie’s Steps painted on the top stair.

  “Aren’t they neat?” Sophie pulled the reins as her horse drew even with Charlie’s. She pointed down the hill to where a ranch-style farmhouse sat, surrounded by a barn and a few outbuildings. A well-maintained lawn ran along the front of the house. Two wooden rocking chairs lined up on the front porch, and colorful flower pots adorned the steps. “That’s my house.”

  “I see. And I see these are your steps. Did you build them?”

  “No. Cash made them for me when I was eight or nine years old. Aren’t they great?”

  “They are great. I’m impressed.” She nodded at Cash. His horse had stopped a few feet away and was chewing on a tall blade of grass.

  “Little booger kept crawling under the fence, and I didn’t want her to get torn up by the barbed wire or shocked by the electric fence.” He pointed to where the fence ran under the stairs.

  Sophie grinned at the cowboy. “And because he loves me.”

  He looked at the teenager with obvious endearment in his eyes. “And because I love you.”

  Charlie’s heart melted a little at the ease with which this tough cowboy could express his feelings for the gawky teenage girl.

  “I painted the banister myself, though,” Sophie explained. “I put the unicorn stickers on when I was younger, but now it’s too much of a pain to peel them off.”

  “So, this is how you’re always popping up at Gigi’s.”

  “Yep.” Sophie pointed through a set of trees to where Gigi’s farmhouse was just visible. “I just go through those trees and cut across that little pasture. Easy.”

  “All right, keep riding, ladies. I want to show Charlie the valley.” Cash kicked at his horse and whistled for the dog, who’d climbed Sophie’s steps and now stood on the top platform.

  They continued their ride along the fence then wound through another stand of trees. Coming through the other side, Charlie gasped as the land opened up into a huge valley. The grass was deep green against the vibrant blue of the giant sky. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

  Cash pulled his horse to a stop next to hers. “Yeah, it is. You can see why it’s called Big Sky, Montana.”

  Hundreds of cows grazed the grassland, a rushing river snaking along beside them. “And this is all part of Tucked Away?”

  “Yep. This is all Gigi’s land. This valley is our prime grazing land. We have three hundred head of cattle that we have to provide for every year, and we depend on this grassland to feed them. The river also serves as the farm’s main water supply for irrigating our crops.”

  She gazed out over the vast landscape, the beauty of it stealing her breath away. “I can see why you love it so much.”

  “Well, we’re not the only ones. This valley in particular is what your boyfriend, Wayne, is offering all those zeroes for.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” She kicked at his leg with her stirruped foot. Ginger huffed and shifted two steps. “Why is this valley so important?”

  He pointed down to where the rushing waters of the river snaked back and forth across the valley. “See how the river makes a big S through there? Well, that’s the mighty Missouri River, and evidently it’ll cost the Railroad several million dollars to build a couple of bridges to cross her. If they had our land, they could run the line straight through and cross into a bridge that’s already in place fifty miles from here. If they have to stop production and build these bridges, it could add another year to their sche
dule, which would cost them even more.”

  She thought about what Sophie had told her. Several million dollars at stake could definitely provide a motive for murder.

  “What did Gigi think of this? Was she considering selling?”

  He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you crazy? Of course not. Gigi loved this place.”

  “I understand that. But, come on, for that kind of money, couldn’t you just sell off this part and buy some other grassland?”

  Cash spit a long stream of tobacco to the ground. “Geez, girl, aren’t you listening? This is the heart of our operation. Without this valley and the river, we wouldn’t survive. There isn’t other grassland like this. You think you can just phone up God and let him know you’re buying some new land and ask him to move that river for you?”

  “Well, no. But, if she sold this part, she would have been set for life with that kind of money.”

  “You still don’t get it. Tucked Away was her life. This was her legacy. Selling off this valley would’ve been like selling off her arm. She wanted this land to stay in the Tucker family and pass through the generations. That’s why she was so excited when she found you.”

  “I wish I could have met her.”

  “You would have loved her,” Sophie said, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. She sat a few yards back, letting her horse graze on a green patch of grass while she listened to them talk. “We all did.”

  “I just wanted you to see for yourself what all the fuss was about.” Cash pulled the reins and turned his horse back to the trees. “We’d better head on back. Buckshot will be needing me to help him with the afternoon chores.”

  The ride back to the farmhouse was quiet, each of them mired in their own thoughts. Charlie watched the others as they walked along ahead of her and thought about all she had learned.

  Sophie truly believed Gigi’s death was no accident. Really? She’d said Gigi had fallen down the stairs. Fallen? Or been pushed?