How well Suzanne understood a sister worrying about a brother! “He’s fine, Janie,” she said gently. “Everyone is. I’m Suzanne, by the way, Suzanne Paxton.”
“I heard George Davenport got hurt and is in the hospital.”
“That’s true. He took a fall at the onset of the blizzard, but his was the only injury. Everyone else survived intact. Would you like me to ask Dale to call you when he comes in?”
“Yes, please. Tell him I’ll be at work at the café until seven tonight. He has the number.”
“Consider it done. Was the storm as bad in town as it was out here, Janie?”
“The storm was awful, one of the worst I’ve seen, Suzanne, but we didn’t lose the phones and our streets were plowed. Some of them only had one lane open but most people were able to get to their jobs. A few businesses shut their doors, and the schools have been closed, of course. The kids liked that,” Janie added with a laugh.
“I’m sure they did.”
“Their freedom is over, though. I heard there would be school as usual tomorrow.”
“Someone told me a few minutes ago that we could expect to see plows out this way today. Does that mean the school buses will run?”
“Oh, yes. If the roads are open, the buses will run. Why do you ask?”
Suzanne hedged, not wanting to tell her problems to a complete stranger, as nice as Janie Carson seemed to be. “I guess I was thinking more of the mail. If the buses can get through, so will the mail trucks, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s right, the ranch hasn’t been getting any mail, has it? No phones, no mail, goodness. I’ve never been cut off from the rest of the world that way. Must be an awful feeling.”
Suzanne was about to agree when she realized it hadn’t been awful at all. In fact, now that she really thought about it, the isolation had been peaceful. Soothing to her frazzled nerves.
“It wasn’t so bad,” she told Janie. “I rather enjoyed it, to be honest.” Suzanne saw Rand walk in and watched his face light up as he realized the phone was working. “I have to run, Janie. I’ll give Dale your message when I see him.”
“Thanks, Suzanne. Maybe we’ll meet. When the roads are open, I just might drive out there to see Dale. Bye for now.”
“Bye, Janie.” Suzanne put down the phone and looked at Rand. “That was Dale’s sister. She wants him to call her.”
“When did the phones start working?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. The first call that came through was from Sterling McCallum. He asked that you call him. Said you have his number.”
“I do. Thanks.” Rand walked out, saying as he left, “I’ll use the office phone.” He had come in to talk to Suzanne. With the drastic turn in the weather, he knew the roads would be open very soon, possibly even today, and he couldn’t let Suzanne take the notion to leave without making at least one more attempt to change her mind about marrying him.
But first things first, he thought, unbuttoning his heavy jacket as he traversed the hall to the office. Laying his gloves, hat and scarf on his desk, he sat down and dialed the Whitehorn Police Department.
“Hello, Shelley,” he said to the receptionist. “This is Rand Harding. I’m returning a call from Sterling.”
“I’ll put you through, Rand. Did everyone out there survive the storm?”
“Sure did. We’re digging ourselves out now. It’s going to be a mess for a while, but we’ll make it.”
“I’m sure you will. Hold on and I’ll ring Sterling’s desk.”
Sterling came on the line. “Rand, how’s everything out there?”
While Rand talked to Sterling, Suzanne found herself battling a powerful urge to go outdoors and soak up some of that sunshine. Her biggest deterrent was something warm for her feet. She had a coat and gloves, but the shoes she had with her would provide very little protection in such deep snow.
Suddenly recalling the old boots that Rand had stumbled upon under her bed, she ran down the hall to her room to check them out. Kicking off her loafers, she tried them on. They were at least three sizes too big, but if she put on extra stockings they would work, she decided with an impish grin. Pulling on the stockings, then every sweater she’d brought with her, she donned the boots, her coat and gloves and left the building.
Rand thought he heard the closing of a door, but he was engrossed in his conversation with Sterling and paid it no mind.
“No, everything’s been quiet, Sterling. Guess the storm kept our saboteur indoors. The storm and the fact that someone’s been on guard duty every night.”
“You’re thinking it’s been a little too quiet, aren’t you?” Sterling said.
“I’m hoping for the best and expecting the worst, Sterling. I wouldn’t be so antsy if that box of dynamite wasn’t on the place. I’ve searched every building twice and three times, including the bunkhouse. I honestly don’t know where else to look, not until this snow melts, anyway.”
“I’ve talked to Wendell about it several times, and he’s worried as hell.”
“Really? He didn’t sound worried as hell when I talked to him about it.”
“He didn’t?”
“Sterling, when you were in Washington, I called Wendell and told him about it, thinking he’d be as alarmed as I was. He started talking about us having a thief on the place because the perp charged the dynamite to the ranch. He didn’t seem one bit concerned that someone might be planning to blow us all to kingdom come.”
“That’s odd. He’s certainly given me a much different impression. In fact, I’d say he’s gone out of his way to let me know how deeply concerned he is. Rand, are you worried enough about it to evacuate the ranch? I talked to the County Highway Department early this morning, and they’re planning to plow out that way today. By tonight we could have everyone off the place. How do you feel about that?”
“Sterling, you’re the boss and a cop, to boot. How do you feel about it?”
“Well, we’ll never catch the bastard if we move him to town, that’s for sure.”
“And what about the animals? There’s still far too much snow for them to reach the grass under it, Sterling. We have to keep on feeding until we lose some of this snow.”
“This is a hell of a mess.”
“Yes, it is,” Rand agreed. “I’ll tell you, Sterling, when I find out who’s behind the trouble out here, I’m going to kick his butt all the way to the county jail.” Rand took a breath. “You know, we keep talking like we’re dealing with only one man, but there could be two or even three.”
“True,” Sterling said, sounding disgruntled. “On another tack, Rand, a woman named Suzanne Paxton answered your phone this morning. She said she was there because she’d been caught by the storm. You might have to keep the crew on the ranch to tend the animals, but that woman should be out of there the minute the roads are clear.”
Rand’s stomach sank. If he sent Suzanne away, she might never come back. But Sterling was right. Suzanne’s safety was vastly more important than his love life.
“I’ll see that she leaves,” he said stoically, belying the sickish feeling he felt in his gut at the thought of telling Suzanne to leave. Mack, too. The boy shouldn’t be exposed to a maniac’s instability, either.
But then, neither should any of the good, honest men working on the ranch. On that, however, Rand’s hands were tied. He couldn’t leave the cattle and horses and let them go hungry until the snow melted, nor could he or any other one person see to the hay drops by himself. Besides, what would actually be accomplished by a temporary evacuation? Eventually the crew would return to work, including the man who’d ordered that second case of dynamite.
Outside, Suzanne was trudging through the snow in her oversize boots, tittering like a schoolgirl and lifting her face to the sun. Rand hadn’t exaggerated, she thought. Never had she seen such a dazzling blue sky.
Automatically, so it seemed, she headed for the mansion. It fascinated her, sitting there so still and silent in a field of spark
ling white. Most of the windows were covered, she noted, but then she spotted one that was undraped. Standing on tiptoe, she put her face to the glass and peered into a small dining room.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” she whispered, wishing ardently that she could go in and look at all the rooms.
Circling the house in hopes of finding another bare window, she came upon a side door. It couldn’t possibly be unlocked, she thought. But if it was and she went in and looked around, why would anyone care? She tried the door, and to her amazement the knob turned. Quickly, before she could tell herself she had no right to enter this house, she went in and shut the door behind her.
It took a moment for her to realize that the house wasn’t cold. Apparently the heat had been left on low, and she was able to loosen her coat in comfort. Her next surprise was that while walking from room to room, she discovered the house wasn’t nearly as gorgeous as she’d thought. Oh, it wasn’t the house itself, it was the decor. Whoever had decorated this marvelous home had used too many frills. It was tastelessly overdone with flowered wallpapers and fussy furniture. What a pity.
She allowed herself about fifteen minutes in the house, then exited by the same side door and trudged back toward the bunkhouse.
Spotting Rand coming out through the dining room door, she waved and called, “I love this sunshine!”
Rand waved back. She looked like a young girl cavorting in the snow, pretty as a picture and one to warm any bachelor’s heart. Grinning, he walked out to meet her.
Her cheeks were pink from the crisp, fresh air, and he gave in to impulse and put his arms around her to pick her up and swing her around and around. Her laughter rang out, as did Rand’s, and then he floundered in the deep snow and they landed in a drift.
They lay on their backs and laughed over their own antics, and Rand couldn’t remember when he’d been this happy. She had to stay in his life; how was he going to make her understand that his request that she leave for a while had nothing at all to do with the two of them?
But it had to be done, and now was as good a time as any to attempt that explanation.
He turned to look at her, and his gaze roamed her body from head to foot. He started to laugh again when he saw the boots she was wearing.
“Are those the latest style in women’s footwear?” he asked with a merry, teasing twinkle in his eyes.
Suzanne laughed again. “They might not be stylish and they’re much too big, but they’ve kept my feet warm and dry. I just had to get outside, Rand. I’m not used to being cooped up.”
Rand smiled at her. “Do you know you’re a very sweet woman?”
“Sweet?” Suzanne’s expression softened as she looked into his eyes. “What a nice compliment. Thank you.”
He looked away from her for a moment and noticed, for the first time, the direction of her tracks in the snow.
“What’ve you been doing?” he asked.
“Looking at the house. You don’t mind, do you?”
He raised one shoulder in a shrug. “There’s not much to see when you can’t get inside.”
She hesitated, but his comment indicated that all the doors of the house were locked and one wasn’t. He should know.
“Rand, I got in. There’s an unlocked side door, and I couldn’t resist seeing…” She gaped when Rand jumped up and took off running for the big house. “Well, good heavens,” she muttered. “I didn’t touch anything,” she shouted at his back.
Shaking her head at his peculiar, completely unpredictable behavior, she got up, brushed snow from her coat, walked to the bunkhouse and went inside.
Eleven
During the lunch hour, Suzanne, from the kitchen, could hear the men laughing about J.D.’s dog.
“You should have seen old Freeway hightailing it out of the barn. Daisy must have put the fear of God into him,” one man said. “Freeway was moving so fast he was smoking.”
“Daisy’s mighty protective of those pups of hers,” someone else said.
“Freeway will make friends with her, you’ll see.” Suzanne recognized that calm, collected voice as J.D.’s.
“Not as long as she’s got those pups, he won’t,” Dale Carson said with a snide little laugh.
Suzanne frowned. She had listened to table talk among the men before, and it seemed to her that Dale deliberately tried to rile J.D. Not that J.D. couldn’t take care of himself. He either ignored Dale completely or put him in his place with a few well-chosen words. The younger man always backed off, so why did he keep baiting J.D.? Suzanne wondered.
She also wondered why Rand hadn’t come in for lunch again. She’d seen nothing of him since he’d taken off running toward the big house. She couldn’t possibly imagine a reason for him spending hours in it, but neither could she imagine where else he might have gone. Surely he wasn’t inspecting every little thing in it, thinking that she might have disturbed something. Goodness, she’d made sure that even her coat hadn’t brushed up against any of the furniture or woodwork. She hadn’t, as she’d told him, touched one single thing in the entire house, but it still made her nervous that he might have thought differently. She wished now that she hadn’t gone near the place.
Rand was glad she had. Cursing his own lack of foresight—he’d been so positive the house was locked up tightly—he had spent hours going from room to room in search of that dynamite. Obviously someone had neatly picked the lock on that side door, as there was no sign of forced entry. Why the creep had left it unlocked remained a question in Rand’s mind—maybe so he could get to the dynamite fast when he felt the time was right, maybe because he was willing to take the chance that no one would notice one unlocked door or maybe because he was just plain stupid.
At any rate, Rand was certain the dynamite was somewhere in this house. He would have interrupted his search for lunch except for one thing—Suzanne’s and his tracks in the snow. He wanted to find the dynamite before the culprit noticed the tracks and realized that Rand was on to his bag of dirty tricks.
The house had a basement, most of which was taken up by a huge recreation room. There was a long bar of polished mahoghany and a striking antique billiard table. The paneled walls contained numerous hunting trophies, mounted heads of elk, deer, moose and bear, and there was a large, locked gun cabinet with an impressive display of hunting rifles. Rand remembered the conversation he’d had with Sterling after he’d worked on the ranch for about a month.
“Sterling, that house is a burglary waiting to happen. At least take the guns out of it.”
“That house is part of my daughter’s history, Rand,” Sterling had told him. “Someday she’s going to want to know about her birth family. Jessica and I have discussed Jennifer’s inheritance at great length, and we agree that the house and everything in it should remain just as it is. It tells a story, which Jenny will someday want to know. The only items removed since Mary Jo’s arrest were the Native American artifacts she used in one of her crimes. After they were utilized as evidence against her in court, we donated them to the museum on the reservation. Everything else is as it was when Jeremiah was alive. It’s the way we want it.”
Rand had never mentioned it again, but the house had continued to worry him. It was stuffed with valuables, good paintings, sterling silver flatware, china patterns galore and every electronic gadget money could buy. He didn’t care much for the way Mary Jo Kincaid had decorated it, but there was no question about the house and its contents being worth a great deal of money.
He looked around the rec room without a whole lot of hope. Other than the gun and liquor cabinets, there really wasn’t anything that wasn’t in plain sight.
After checking the cabinets, his gaze fell upon a door in the paneling, which he knew led to a storage room. He had glanced into the room only one time, and he recalled now that it had been crammed with discarded furniture and cardboard boxes.
Grimly, he opened the door and stepped into the room. An alarm bell instantly went off in his head; someone had been in here, b
oxes had been moved!
He began moving some himself. It took about ten minutes of shifting things around before he found it—a brand-new unopened case of dynamite.
“Bingo,” he exclaimed as satisfaction coursed through his veins.
And he knew exactly what he was going to do with his dangerous find, too. The men were still in the bunkhouse having lunch. If he hurried, he could take care of this problem before they came outside for the afternoon shift.
He swiftly set to work.
Rand came rushing into the bunkhouse while Suzanne was still cleaning up after lunch. The men had returned to work, the building was quiet. She froze, fearing he was coming to the kitchen. She felt more defensive than guilty about having invaded the big house, and if he said something to her about it, she was apt to get angry.
But he went directly to the office and she breathed a sigh of relief and went on with her work.
In his office, Rand threw off his jacket and plopped down at his desk. Immediately he dialed a number. Rand got Sterling right away.
“Yes, Rand?”
“I found it. It was in the storage room in the basement of the house. Someone picked a side-door lock. I hauled it out to that big stand of pines behind the house and buried it. Then I took a horse and rode it back and forth in the snow so many times no one could possibly locate it by following my tracks.”
“Damn, that’s good news!” Sterling exclaimed. “The lock was picked, you say?”
“Had to have been. Either that or someone besides myself has a key. There isn’t a mark on the door or the jamb that shouldn’t be there. Sterling, I need some advice. Should I leave that door unlocked or what? Somebody’s going to go looking for that dynamite, and if the door’s locked he might break in next time. What’s your feeling on that?”
“What I’m wondering right now is who’s clever enough out there to pick the good security locks that are on every door of that house. Know anyone with that kind of expertise?”
“No, I don’t, but then we don’t exactly screen applicants for a cowhand’s job, do we? Hell, in the past three months all a man had to do was breathe and walk upright to get hired.”
Letter to a Lonesome Cowboy Page 14