The Novels of Nora Roberts Volume 1

by Nora Roberts

  It had been like being someone else while it was happening, he realized. Someone with vision so clear, with nerves so steady, he was barely human.

  He hadn’t known he’d had that inside him.

  He hadn’t known he would like it so much.

  Poor old Pickles. To keep from laughing aloud, he pressed both hands to his mouth like a child giggling in church. He hadn’t had anything against the old fart, but he’d come along at the wrong time, and needs must.

  Needs must, he thought again, snorting into his hands. That’s what his dear old ma had always said. Even when she’d been stoned, she’d been happy to dispense such homilies. Needs must. A stitch in time. Early to bed and a penny saved. Blood’s thicker than water.

  Recovered, he let out a breath and dropped his hands on his belly.

  He remembered how the knife had slid into Pickles’s belly. All those layers of fat, he mused, patting himself. It had been like stabbing a pillow. Then there had been that sucking sound, the kind you could make giving a woman a nice fat hickey to brand her.

  But the best, the very best, had been lifting what was left of Pickles’s hair. Not that it made much of a trophy, all thin and straggly, but the way the knife had made that wicked flap had been so fascinating.

  And the blood.

  Good Jesus, did he bleed.

  He wished he could have taken more time with it, maybe done a little victory dance. Now the next time . . .

  He had to stifle another chuckle. For there would be a next time. He was through with cattle and pets. Humans were much more challenging. He’d have to be careful, and he’d have to wait. If he took another one too quick, it would spoil the anticipation.

  And he wanted to choose the next one, not just stumble over someone.

  Maybe he should do a woman. He could take her into the trees, where he had hidden his trophies. He could cut her clothes away while she was begging him not to hurt her. Then he could rape the shit out of her.

  He grew hard thinking of it, idly stroked himself while he planned. It would certainly add a new thrill to be able to take his time over it, to watch his prey, watch the eyes bulge with fear as he explained every little thing he was going to do.

  It had to be even better that way. When they knew.

  But he would need to practice. A woman would be the next stage, and he hadn’t perfected this one yet.

  No rush, he thought dreamily, and began to masturbate in earnest. No rush at all.

  PART TWO

  WINTER

  They that know the winters of that country know them to be sharp and violent . . . .

  —William Bradford

  NINE

  E VEN MURDER COULDN’T STOP WORK. THE MEN WERE jumpy, but they took orders. Now that they were another hand short, Willa pushed herself to take up the slack. She rode fences, drove out to the fields to check on the harvest, manned the squeeze shoot herself, and huddled over the record books at night.

  The weather turned, and turned fast. The chill in the air threatened winter, and there was frost on the pastures every morning. What cattle wouldn’t be wintered over had to be shipped to feed pens for finishing—Mercy’s own outside of Ennis or down to Colorado.

  If she wasn’t on horseback or driving a four-wheeler, she went up with Jim in the plane. She’d considered getting her pilot’s license, but had quickly discovered that air travel didn’t suit her. She didn’t care for the noise of the engine or how the quick dips and turns affected her stomach.

  Her father had loved to buzz the land in the little Cessna. The first time she’d flown with him, she’d been miserably ill. It had been the last time he had taken her up.

  Now that there was only Jim qualified to pilot—and he had a tendency to hotdog—she wondered if she’d have to reconsider. An operation like Mercy needed a backup pilot, and maybe if she was at the controls she wouldn’t get light-headed or nauseous.

  “Pretty as a picture from up here.” Grinning, Jim dipped the wings, and Willa felt her breakfast slide greasily toward her throat. “Looks like we got another fence down.” Cheerfully he dropped altitude to get a closer look.

  Willa gritted her teeth and made a mental note of their position. She forced herself to scan the cattle, take a broad head count. “We need to rotate those cows before they take the grass down.” She hissed between her teeth when the plane angled sharply. “Can’t you fly this damn thing straight?”

  “Sorry.” He tucked his tongue in his cheek to hold back a chuckle. But when he got a look at her face, he leveled off gently. She was a pale shade of green. “You oughtn’t to come up, Will, leastwise without taking some of those airsick pills first.”

  “I took the damn things.” She concentrated on her breathing, wished she could appreciate the beauty of the land, the pastures green and glinting with frost, the hills thick with trees, the peaks white with snow.

  “Want me to take us down?”

  “I’m handling it.” Barely. “We’ll finish.”

  But when she looked down again, she saw the road where she had found the body. The police had taken the body away, had even taken the mutilated carcass of the steer. They’d combed the area looking for and gathering evidence. And the rain had washed away most of the blood.

  Still, she thought she could see darker patches on the dirt that had soaked in deep. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, and even when they flew past and over pasture, she could still see the road, the dark patches.

  Jim kept his eyes trained on the horizon. “The police came by again last night.”

  “I know.”

  “They haven’t found anything. It’s been damn near a week, Will. They don’t have squat.”

  The anger in his voice cleared her vision, helped her turn her eyes away and toward his face. “I guess it’s not like the TV shows, Jim. Sometimes they just don’t get the bad guy.”

  “I keep thinking how I won that money off him the night before it happened. I wish I hadn’t won that money off him, Will. I know it doesn’t mean a damn, but I wish I hadn’t.”

  She reached over, gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “And I wish I hadn’t had words with him. That doesn’t mean a damn either, but I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Goddamn bitchy old fart. That’s what he was. Just a goddamn bitchy old fart.” His voice hitched, and Jim cleared his throat. “I—we heard you were maybe going to bury him in Mercy cemetery.”

  “Nate hasn’t been able to locate his sister, or anyone. We’ll bury him on Mercy land. I guess Bess would say that was fittin’.”

  “It is. It’s good of you, Will, to put him where there’s only family.” He cleared his throat again. “The boys and me were talking. We thought maybe we could be like the pallbearers and we’d pay for his stone.” His color rose when he caught Willa staring at him. “It was Ham’s idea, but we all agreed to it. If you do.”

  “Then that’s the way we’ll do it.” She turned her head, stared out the window. “Let’s go down, Jim. I’ve seen enough for now.”

  W HEN WILLA DROVE BACK INTO THE RANCH YARD. SHE spotted Nate’s rig, and Ben’s. Deliberately, she stopped in front of Adam’s little white house. She needed time before she faced anyone. Her legs weren’t much steadier than her stomach. There was a headache, brought on, she supposed, by the incessant humming of the plane, kicking behind her eyes.

  She climbed out, stepped through the gate of the picket fence, and indulged herself by squatting down to pet Beans. He was fat as a sausage, with floppy ears and huge mop paws. Elated to see her, he rolled over to offer his belly for a rub.

  “You fat old thing. You going to lie here and sleep all day?” He thumped his tail in agreement and made her smile. “Your back end’s wide as a barn.”

  Her voice brought Adam’s spotted hound, Nosey, racing around the side of the house. With his ears perked up and his tail waving like a flag, he trotted over and pushed himself under Willa’s arm.

  “Been up to no good again, haven’t you, Nosey? Don’t think I don’
t know you’ve had your eye on my chickens.”

  He grinned at her, and in his attempt to lick her hands, her face, stepped on his buddy. When the two dogs began to wrestle and dance, Willa got to her feet. She felt better. Maybe it was just being in Adam’s yard, where the fall flowers were still stubbornly blooming and dogs had nothing better to do than play.

  “You finished fooling with those useless dogs?”

  She looked over her shoulder. Ham stood on the other side of the gate, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. His jacket was buttoned and he wore leather gloves, making her think perhaps he felt the cold more these days.

  “I reckon I am.”

  “And you’re finished flying around in that death trap?”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth as she walked toward him. In his sixty-five years, Ham had never been inside a plane of any kind. And he was damn proud of it. “Seems like. We need to rotate cattle, Ham. And we’ve got another fence down. I want those cows moved from the southmost pasture today.”

  “I’ll put Billy on it. Only take him twice as long to do it as anybody with half a brain. Jim can handle the fencing. Wood’s got his hands full down at the fields, and I’ve gotta get the shipment down to the feedlot.”

  “Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me we’re running thin?”

  “I’m going to talk to you about that.” He waited until she came through the gate, took his time enjoying his smoke. “We could use another hand, two would be best. But it’s my thinking you should wait, till spring at least, to hire on.”

  He flicked the miserly butt of his cigarette away, watched it fly. Behind them, Beans and Nosey whined at the gate, hoping for more attention. “Pickles was a pain in the ass. The man would bitch if the sun was shining or if a cloud covered it up. He just liked to complain. But he was a good cowboy and a halfway good mechanic.”

  “Jim told me that you and the men want to buy his stone.”

  “Only seems right. Worked with the picky old bastard damn near twenty years.” He continued to stare out at middle distance. He’d already looked into her face, seen what was there. “You ain’t helping anybody, blaming yourself for what happened to him.”

  “I sent him out.”

  “That’s crap, and you know it. You may be a stiff-necked temperamental female, but you ain’t stupid.”

  She nearly smiled. “I can’t get past it, Ham. I just can’t.”

  He knew that, understood that because he knew her. Understood her. “Finding him the way you did, that’s going to prey on you. Nothing much to do about that but wait it out.” He looked back at her again, shifted his disreputable hat against the angle of the sun. “Working yourself into the ground isn’t going to make it go away any quicker.”

  “We’re two hands short,” she began, but he only shook his head.

  “Will, you ain’t sleeping much and you’re eating less.” Beneath the grizzled beard, his lips curved slightly. “Bess being back on her feet, I get plenty of the news from inside the main house. That woman can talk the ears off a rabbit. And even if she wasn’t rattling away at me every chance she gets, I could see it for myself.”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “I know that.” His voice roughened with his own brand of affection. “I’m just saying you don’t have to have your hand in every inch of this ranch. I’ve been here since before you were born, and if you don’t trust me to do my job, well, maybe you should be looking for three new hands come spring.”

  “You know I trust you, it’s not—” She broke off, sucked in a breath. “That’s low, Ham.”

  Pleased with himself, he nodded. Yeah, he knew her all right. He understood her.

  And he loved her.

  “As long as it makes you stop and think. We can get through the winter the way things are. That oldest boy of Wood’s is coming along fine. He’ll be twelve before long, and he can pull his weight. The younger one’s a goddamn farmer.” Baffled by it, Ham took out another cigarette, rolled fresh that morning. “Rather bale hay than sit a horse, but he’s a good worker, so Wood claims. We’ll do well enough through winter with what we’ve got.”

  “All right. Anything else?”

  Again, he took his time. But since he had her attention, he figured he might as well finish up. “Them sisters of yours. You might tell the short-haired one to buy her some jeans that don’t fit like skin. Every time she walks by, that fool Billy drops his tongue on his boots. He’s going to hurt himself.”

  It was the first laugh she’d had in days. “And I don’t suppose you look, do you, Ham?”

  “I look plenty.” He blew out smoke. “But I’m old enough not to hurt myself. The other one sits a horse real pretty.” He squinted, gestured with his cigarette. “Well, you can see that for yourself.”

  Willa looked down the road, saw the riders heading east. Adam sat on his favored pinto, hatless and flanked by two riders. Willa had to admit that Lily handled the roan mare well, moving as smooth as silk with the mare’s gait. On the other hand, Tess was jogging in the saddle atop a pretty chestnut. Her heels were up rather than down, her butt bouncing against leather in quick, jerky slaps that had to hurt, and she appeared to be gripping the saddle horn for dear life.

  “Christ, will she be sore tonight.” Amused, Willa leaned on the gate. “How long has that been going on?”

  “Last couple days. Seems she took it in her mind to learn to ride. Adam’s been working with her.” He shook his head as Tess nearly slid out of the saddle. “Don’t know if even that boy can do anything with her. You could saddle Moon and catch up with them.”

  “They don’t need me.”

  “That’s not what I said. You should take yourself a nice long ride, Will. It’s always what worked best for you.”

  “Maybe.” She thought about it, a nice long gallop with the wind slapping her face and clearing her mind. “Maybe later.” For another moment she watched the three riders and envied them the easy camaraderie. “Maybe later,” she repeated, and climbed back in her rig.

  W ILLA WASN’T SURPRISED TO FIND BOTH NATE AND BEN in the kitchen, enjoying Bess’s barbecued beef. To keep Bess from scolding her for not eating, she took a plate herself, pulled up a chair.

  “About time you got back.” A bit disappointed that she hadn’t been able to order the girl to eat, Bess fell onto the next best thing. “Past dinnertime.”

  “Food’s still warm,” Willa commented, and made herself take the first bite. “Since you’re busy feeding half the county, you shouldn’t have missed me.”

  “Got worse manners than a field hand.” Bess plopped a mug of coffee at Willa’s elbow, sniffed. “I’ve got too much work to do to stand around here trying to teach you better.” She flounced out, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “She’s been watching for you for the past half hour.” Nate pushed his empty plate away, picked up his own coffee. “She worries.”

  “She doesn’t need to.”

  “She will as long as you keep riding out alone.”

  Willa spared Ben a look. “Then she’ll have to get over it. Pass the salt.”

  He did so, slapping it in front of her. On the opposite end of the table, Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad you got back, Will. I’ve got some papers for you.”

  “Fine. I’ll look at them later.” She drizzled salt over her beef. “That explains why you’re here.” She looked pointedly at Ben.

  “I had business with Adam. Horse business. And I stuck around in my supervisory capacity. And for the free meal.”

  “I asked Ben to stay,” Nate put in before Willa could snarl. “I talked to the police this morning. They’ll be releasing the body tomorrow.” He waited a moment for Willa to nod, to accept. “Some of the papers I have for you deal with the funeral arrangements. There’s also some financial business. Pickles had a small passbook savings account and a standard checking. Combined, we’re only talking about maybe thirty-five hundred. He owed nearly that on his rig.”


  “I’m not worried about the money.” She couldn’t have eaten now if there’d been a gun to her head. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just handle the details and bill the ranch. Please, Nate.”

  “All right.” He took a legal pad out of the briefcase at his feet, scribbled some notes. “As to his personal effects. There’s no family, no heirs, and he never had a will made.”

  “There wouldn’t be much anyway.” Misery settled over her, heavy and thick. “His clothes, his saddle, tools. I’ll leave that to the men, if that’s all right.”

  “I think that’s the way it should be. I’ll handle the legal points.” He touched a hand to hers, let it linger briefly. “If you think of anything, or you have any questions, just give me a call.”

  “I’m obliged.”

  “No need to be.” He unfolded himself and stood. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow a horse, ride out after Adam to ah . . .”

  “You’re going to have to think faster than that,” Ben told him, “if you’re going to lie about sniffing after a woman.”

  Nate only grinned and took his hat from the hook by the back door. “Thank Bess for the meal. I’ll be around.”

  Willa frowned at the door Nate closed behind him. “Sniffing after what woman?”

  “Your big sister wears some mighty pretty perfume.”

  She snorted, picked up her plate, and took it to the counter beside the sink. “Hollywood? Nate’s got more sense than that.”

  “The right perfume can kick the sense right out of a man. You didn’t eat your dinner.”

  “Lost my appetite.” Curious, she turned back, leaned on the counter. “Is that what yanks your chain, Ben? Fancy perfume?”

  “It doesn’t hurt.” He leaned back in his chair. “Of course, soap and leather on the right kind of skin can do the same damn thing. Being female’s a powerful and mysterious thing.” He picked up his coffee, watching her over the rim of the cup. “But I guess you’d know that.”