Stripped Bare

by Shannon Baker

  “You get one chance to do this the easy way.” With eight siblings, I knew how to fight. “Get out now or I’ll drag you out, and that’s gonna hurt.”

  “Fine.” She straightened her pink sweater and stepped out of the pickup onto the road. She reached inside and snatched her bag.

  I stomped back to my side and climbed in, shoved the gearshift into Drive, and peeled out.

  I hadn’t traveled a half mile before Mom’s disappointed face loomed in my mind. Mom and her damned “Desiderata.” I hadn’t acted the least bit placid, and probably it was possible to be on better terms with Roxy than leaving her by the roadside.

  What irked me the most was that, when I returned for her, Roxy hadn’t taken a step toward town. She stood with her arms folded across her chest and her bag dangling from her shoulder as if she knew I’d be back. I pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road and stopped to pick her up.

  She climbed inside, way more placid than I’d thought possible, and settled her bag on the floor.

  I exploded with all the heat of the volcano. “If you don’t want to find yourself hoofing it back to the Bar J, keep your mouth shut about Ted.”

  The indulgent smile almost made me stop again. “Sure thing.”

  Roxy started several conversations, mostly to gossip about this or that. Finally, she gave up, pulled out her phone, and started texting. No doubt sending love notes to my husband. I ignored her soft giggles whenever she received a reply.

  She addressed me. “My mother is stuck in a motel bar in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Her car broke down on her way from Phoenix. I know it’s not funny, but the way she describes the people in the bar is hysterical.”

  Oh. She wasn’t talking to Ted. I still wanted to swat her.

  A set of decaying wood corrals and loading chutes marked the turnoff to the old Carson place. The headquarters squatted over the first hill from the highway. I stopped at a wire gate strung tight across the road and waited for Roxy to get out and open it. Normally the gate draped back along the fence, making the road clear. But during calving season the Carsons’ new cow and calf pairs lived in the pasture closest to the house, so the gate stayed latched. Live in this country long enough and you come to know how each rancher runs his place.

  Roxy tried to wait me out. She glanced down at her crisp designer jeans and fashion boots with two-inch heels, then meaningfully at my ropers and faded Wranglers. When I didn’t budge, she huffed and got out to open the gate and hold it while I drove through. She latched it again.

  The Carsons’ calving lot sprawled in front of their headquarters, straddling the road. I idled through the milling cattle, ever mindful of sleeping calves. Like any good rancher, I studied his herd, noting the body condition of his cows—good—and the health of his calves—also good.

  We pulled up in front of his well-kept brick ranch house, probably built in the sixties. Tall cottonwoods shaded the yard and a wide front porch held a swing and old metal outdoor chairs. The kind that bounce when you sit on them.

  Jack walked from the barn about fifty yards south of the house. He wore his usual stern expression but seemed curious to see us there. I couldn’t blame him for that. Folks in the Sandhills are friendly but not given to dropping in unannounced. Unless they were a neighbor and you happened to live within access to one of their pastures. If you shared fences and roads with neighbors, you oughtn’t mow your grass topless or you might get caught. Just making a hypothetical comment; not as if Tank Cleveland caught me doing that. Twice.

  Afternoon was punching its time card while evening waited to take the next shift. A chill threatened, which would turn into frost by morning. Jack would be on his way in for about two hours.

  He would likely relax, watch the weather report, eat a hearty supper his wife prepared, put his feet up for an hour or so, then head back out to check the cows and do evening chores. If no cows were calving, he’d grab a few hours’ sleep and trudge outside every two hours to check the herd. After about six weeks of this schedule he’d be worn so thin that, if he was given to temper, he’d be a bear, and if he was prone to depression, his wife better hide the guns.

  I stepped from the pickup onto the ground, which was damp from the afternoon shower. “Hey, Jack.”

  He eyed me. “Kate.” He raised his chin in a Sandhills wave. “Roxy.”

  Roxy rounded the pickup to stand next to me. I waited for Jack to make his way to us.

  “Did you get a good rain?” I asked.

  He rubbed his peppery face, which looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. “Not more’n two-tenths.”

  “Any rain is good,” I said.

  Jack landed in the age range “middling,” between my folks and me. His kids were grown and gone, but not by long.

  He looked down at his mud- and manure-caked Carhartt coveralls, his feet encased in boots stretched with rubber overshoes. “Sad doings about Eldon.” He brought his eyes up to mine. “How’s Carly takin’ it? She was pretty close to her granddad, wasn’t she?”

  I wish I knew Carly’s state of mind. “She’s a tough kid.”

  He nodded. “Will she move out to the ranch after graduation?”

  I didn’t have to lie. “We haven’t talked about it.”

  I couldn’t come out and ask if he’d killed Eldon. I threw Roxy a panicked look.

  “When’s the services?” Jack asked after a moment of silence.

  I looked toward the house. Enough shadows fell that the light shone from inside, silhouetting a figure looking out a window. It had to be Aileen. I waved. The figure waved back but didn’t move away. She must have something on the stove or she’d probably be out here greeting us, too. “Friday.” I let that sit, trying to come up with something to say.

  Roxy jumped in. “That’s why we’re here. Carly and I are making some decisions for the funeral. I wanted to ask if you’d consider being a pallbearer.”

  His forehead crinkled in puzzlement. “You could have called. You didn’t need to drive all the way out here.”

  Roxy sighed. “It’s so sad at the ranch, thinking about Eldon and Brian and everything. Kate, bless her heart, came out and insisted fresh air and sunshine would do me good. So I thought we might as well come see you. She was right. I’m feeling better now.”

  He looked from Roxy to me and I almost saw a dialogue bubble form over his head, which said, “Does Kate know about Ted and Roxy?” Ted and Roxy might have been discreet, but no bag could hold the cat now. Everyone knew.

  He rubbed his scruffy face and seemed agitated. “Why me?”

  “Well, I know how close you and Eldon were.” She sounded sincere to her bones.

  His hand traveled from his chin to the back of his neck. “Me and Eldon didn’t have much to do with each other.” If he raged about an unfaithful wife, he hid it well.

  Roxy raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t you have a land deal a while back?”

  His hand flopped from his neck down to his crusty coveralls. “I thought only us knew about it.”

  Roxy looked solemn. “Family business.”

  Jack gazed over our heads.

  Clouds had vanished, leaving the sky a deep violet, the exact color of Ted’s eyes. Those eyes that used to drink me in and warm with passion for me.

  “It was bad business. And I’m sorry I dragged Eldon into it.” His vehemence surprised me. I tried to weigh his outburst against the calving season personality disorder. It still seemed over the top.

  I waited for him to elaborate.

  Finally Jack shook his head. “No, I don’t s’pose Eldon would want me as pallbearer.”

  Since no one seemed inclined to continue, I asked, “Why’s that?”

  Jack turned his attention to Roxy and gave her a mournful look.

  She let her lower lip tremble slightly. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  Jack shoved his hands into the pockets of his coveralls and stared at his muddy boots for several seconds. Without raising his head, he started to speak. “I’m sorry
to say that I got myself into some money troubles. This fellow from Mississippi was doing some of God’s work. At least, that’s what I thought. Still do, as far as that goes.”

  He glanced up quickly, then down.

  “He heard this old Bible prophecy about a perfect red heifer being born in Israel. It’s sort of a long story, why there hasn’t been one in over two thousand years and why there needs to be one. I can tell it to you, but I suspect you’d laugh at me.”

  I didn’t say anything. Roxy made an uh sound, so he knew she was listening.

  “Being as how I raise Red Angus and how I’m part of the Christ Almighty church, I heard about this man’s mission. He needed someone to help him put together this perfect herd of cows, and a place to keep them until they could be shipped to Israel. He had some backers and it all seemed on the up-and-up. So I started to go to sales and buy up the best of the breeding bulls. And you know, that ain’t cheap. This guy, he said the money was coming but it’d been held up. He showed me how the devil was working against us. But I know God is on our side.”

  I cringed, guessing what was coming next.

  “I talked to Aileen about it and we agreed the good Lord was testing our faith. So I got a loan on the ranch and bought the cattle. But the man in Mississippi couldn’t get the project going. Not on time, anyway. He’s still working on it. But for us, time ran out. We were in debt and about to lose the ranch.”

  “How does Eldon come into it?” I asked.

  He looked up. “I’m gettin’ to it. So I figured if I could sell that south piece I could pay down the debt and maybe keep from having to lose the whole place. I’d heard the Webers was looking for a bigger place, so I approached them.”

  He let out a hiccup that might have been a choked sob. “I felt so desperate. I priced it where I needed it to be, not necessarily what it was worth, and I prayed that if it was God’s will that they’d accept the terms. They did.”

  “But then Eldon pulled the cash and ruined it,” Roxy said, as if she’d wrapped it all up.

  Jack stared at her. “You know that’s not what happened.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, but she said in a normal voice, “Of course not. But it’s what the devil would have wanted.”

  I could tell he didn’t buy her version of things, but he didn’t seem to care. “Before the sale was finished, the elders came to me and did a laying-on of hands to bring out the devil. You see, I’d given in to the lies and deceit and tried to take the easy way out. They made me realize that I couldn’t sell to the Webers. They are fornicators. They cheated on their spouses and aren’t even married to each other to this day. I had to cancel the sale, and that meant I’d lose it all.”

  He swallowed and paused. “But Eldon come by. He said he’d agreed to loan the Webers the money but he wanted to know why I was selling. I confessed all, and told him I didn’t know how to get out of the contract I’d signed.”

  Roxy made another sound of interest.

  “Eldon made it all good. He canceled the loan to the Webers. He bought the land from me, then went on and gave me a loan to pay off the bank.”

  Roxy’s face turned a curious shade, sort of like a rusty nail.

  “Wow, that’s generous,” I said.

  “That’s not all. He gave me a low rate and all the time I need to pay it back.”

  Roxy drew in a sharp breath and grew even more colorful.

  “I always heard Eldon was a tightwad,” I said.

  Jack’s eyes watered. “There was some bad blood with us Carsons and Edwardses, but Eldon always treated me fair. After he helped me out like that, I heard he put it in his will that meadow goes to Rope Hayward’s boy.”

  “Mick?”

  Jack shook his head. “Naw, I think we all know he’s a lost cause. It’s that other boy, the grandkid. He’s been in trouble hisself, but I figure Eldon hoped to stop him before he went the same as his daddy. Kind of give the kid a reason to straighten up.”

  Roxy spun around and marched to the pickup. She launched herself inside and slammed the door.

  Jack looked at her. “Guess she didn’t know the particulars. But now she understands why it wouldn’t be right for me to carry Eldon’s coffin.”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Well, Eldon helped me out, but he was put out with me on account he thought I was being too judgmental about the Webers. He said it wasn’t my place.”

  I had no idea Eldon was such a moral beacon.

  Jack shrugged. “Might be he was right. I don’t know. What I do know is he helped me out of a tight spot and me and Aileen will be forever grateful.”

  20

  I slammed the pickup door and started the engine. What did we have, so far? A couple who’d felt cheated by Eldon but had come out better off. A grateful rancher who thought of Eldon as the Second Coming. No killer there. Ted was still on the hook.

  Next stop: Nat Hayward. It was time to corner her and find out what she knew about Carly and the goings-on at the Bar J.

  I used the headlights as I drove through the herd. Roxy didn’t say anything, but she jumped out the door when I pulled up in front of the gate. After I’d driven through and she relatched it, she plopped back into the seat and folded her arms. She showed all the signs of a full-blown snit.

  Rocks pinged on the underside of the pickup. “I guess Jack didn’t shoot Eldon,” I said.

  “Guess not.” She barely moved her lips, and she kept her arms folded across her chest.

  “Sounds like Eldon was generous to him and Danny.”

  She sounded miffed. “What a guy.”

  I turned left on the highway, heading away from town. “Why are you so upset?”

  She faced the windshield. “Eldon never gave Brian a damn thing, but he flat-out gives that bad seed a chunk of land. Danny’s not even related.”

  I didn’t offer my opinion, that there was plenty of Bar J to go around for everyone. We rode in silence for a bit. I turned over possibilities. “If Ted shot Eldon—”

  Roxy whirled on me, arms unwinding from her chest. “He didn’t.”

  “It would be logical how he got your gun. You’d have given it to him.” The steering wheel vibrated in my hands as we crossed an AutoGate.

  “I didn’t have my gun, so I couldn’t give it to anyone.”

  “Then how did it get into Eldon’s office to kill him?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Well, I do know something about it.”

  She had no trouble giving me fashion tips, but getting her to cough up important facts proved more difficult. I took my eyes from the road to glare at her. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Not much.”

  Back to focusing on my driving, I waited. “How about you tell me anyway.”

  Her face softened a little. “I’m trying to spare you some hurtful details.”

  “I’m tough. Go ahead.”

  She tilted her head in a you-asked-for-it way. “Okay. My gun was stolen.”

  God, she was exasperating. “How’s that hurt me?”

  “It was at the meeting Glenn Baxter’s lawyer had at the schoolhouse.”

  This would be District 7. The two-room brick schoolhouse for K through sixth grade took up a corner of a pasture between the Bar J and Carson’s ranch. “Why is this so bad for me?”

  “Because the only reason I had the gun in the pickup is that Ted and I had been out shooting prairie dogs on the east pivot.”

  This stuff shouldn’t faze me, but it felt like a mule kick to the gut. I’d learned to shoot, since there was cause to take care of certain things on the ranch, but being raised by pacifists left a lingering sense of guilt.

  Roxy, on the other hand, shared with Ted a love of guns. When they’d been sweethearts, they’d done a lot of target shooting. After Dahlia and Sid had moved from Hodgekiss to Broken Butte, Dahlia had brought boxes of Ted’s childhood possessions to the ranch. She’d specifically handed me the box with all his shooting trophies. Amid the faded blue, red, an
d white ribbons, the gold-plastic replicas of gun-shooters glued onto marble-colored plastic pedestals, were old Polaroids of Ted and Roxy. They grinned, with their arms around each other, holding up those very trophies and ribbons.

  I couldn’t be jealous of the past, and for the most part I wasn’t. But Roxy and Ted dragged their past right along into the present.

  Back to the subject at hand. “How do you know it was stolen?”

  It was a stupid question, and her look told me she knew I was just saying anything to deflect my thoughts. “It was in the pickup when we went into the meeting, and it wasn’t when we came out.”

  “Who was at the meeting?”

  She raised her voice in frustration. “Who wasn’t? Every rancher in northern Grand and southern Choker was there.”

  We were only a few miles from Carson’s, and Roxy restarted her beauty ritual, without the extreme measures of the curling iron.

  “Okay. Try to concentrate on something other than your makeup. This is important.”

  She glared at me for a second, then turned back to the mirror. “It’s just as easy to think while looking good as it is to think when you look like a slob.”

  I squeezed the steering wheel to keep from smoothing my hair. “Did anyone seem upset with Eldon at the meeting?”

  She paused, with her lipstick poised for attack. “Well, yeah. Half the people there were either calling him their best friend or their worst enemy.” She finished applying the lipstick and smacked her lips. I really hated that sound. “May Keller and Bill Hardy were both yelling at Eldon about being a true Sandhiller and not selling out. Shorty Cally had a few people red-faced about his wanting to sell because he wanted the cash. I don’t know.”

  “Anyone else there?”

  “Ranch help, I guess.”

  “Who?”

  “Dang it, Kate. I don’t know. Rope and Nat were there, and Dean from the Spade. Grace and Stewie from Messersmith’s. Lots of people; even some kids.”

  “What kids?”

  “Carly and Danny and some of their friends.”

  “Carly?”

  “Of course. She probably rounded up the other kids to protest selling. She gave a speech about the younger generation and how they counted on their heritage. She got emotional and cried about having the ‘unique opportunity to experience this lifestyle.’” Roxy used air quotes and I wanted to break her fingers.