Texas Free

by Janet Dailey

  “In other words I’d be working myself out of a job.”

  “That’s the idea. Are you still interested?”

  Tanner answered without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

  “Fine. Get some lunch and we’ll start the move this afternoon.”

  Tanner walked out into the sunlit parking lot and climbed into his truck. From the moment Clive had mentioned the post in Blanco Springs, he’d been fighting back thoughts of Rose. But now the prospect of seeing her again, holding her again, slammed him like a flash flood roaring down a canyon.

  Rose. She’d been on his mind the whole time—on the road, in Wyoming, and in his dreams. His mind remembered every detail of her face. His body remembered loving her and the wonder of her response.

  Rose. Bless her. Curse her. He’d tried to walk away for good, but it was as if she were branded on his skin—branded, even, on his soul.

  His job had to come first. But he would see her. There was no way he could not see her. It was only a question of when and under what conditions. He could only hope she was safe and still willing to welcome him.

  But what if she’d had enough of his walking away? What if she wasn’t ready to trust him with her heart again? He would understand. But could he accept her decision?

  * * *

  Two days later, he had settled his meager belongings into the small frame house on the outskirts of Blanco Springs. The technicians were still installing the radio, phones, and other communication devices, as well as beds, desks, and chairs for two rangers, and a filing cabinet. A trailer had delivered two sturdy horses to the stable, along with their tack and enough feed for several weeks. On the far side of the stable was a paddock where the animals could be turned out to graze.

  For the first few days, at least, Tanner would be alone here. He would use the time to review the files and study the aerial maps of the escarpment, which was a maze of cliffs, gullies, and deep, broad canyons. Small ranches were scattered among these canyons. It would be Tanner’s job to remember their locations and get to know their owners, especially the ones who might have reported missing stock.

  He was going to have plenty of work. But he’d have some time to himself tomorrow. He would drive out to Rose’s place first thing in the morning. What happened after that would be up to her. She could welcome him with open arms, or she could slam the door in his face.

  When it came to Rose, Tanner knew better than to assume anything. He only knew that he had to see her, and he wouldn’t rest easy until he knew where they stood.

  * * *

  Rose hadn’t seen Bull, Jasper, or the boys for the past three days. Fine, she told herself. If Bull didn’t like the idea of her raising sheep and was keeping the others away, that was his problem. But she missed their company. The days were longer, the work less like fun in their absence.

  Her little farm was thriving. The chickens had settled down and begun to lay again. The lambs were putting on weight. By now, they were down to one bottle feeding a day and eating plenty of grass and hay. Soon they’d be big enough to leave the pen and roam around the property—but not until she could build more protection around her precious vegetables.

  Rose had warned herself not to make pets of animals that she planned to sell for food. But the lambs were so adorable, it was hard to keep from loving them. When she was in their pen, they would crowd around her, butting their wooly heads against her legs, wanting to be scratched. She’d even been tempted to give them names—but no, she told herself. That would only make the parting more painful when the time came to give them up.

  Today she’d started on a higher fence around her garden, driving sharpened stakes into the ground with a heavy wooden mallet. Would the new fence be strong enough to keep out the hungry lambs and save her carrots, potatoes, lettuce, and peas? All she could do was build it and hope.

  By the time the sun set behind the escarpment, she was too tired to eat supper. With the new fence less than half finished, she stowed her tools in the camper, rinsed off the sweat and dirt in the shower, pulled on her nightgown, and tumbled into bed.

  Her sleep that night was deep but fitful, plagued by formless dreams with swirling shapes and strange animal cries that seemed almost human.

  The rooster woke her at dawn. Still half asleep, she lay gazing into the shadows, vaguely aware that the morning was quiet, maybe too quiet. Something familiar was missing.

  Realizing what it was, she jerked bolt upright in the bed. The lambs weren’t bleating to be fed, as they usually did.

  Rose threw back the covers, flung herself out of bed, and stumbled to the door of the trailer. But even before she opened it, she knew what she would see.

  Her lambs would be dead.

  * * *

  Tanner knew Rose to be an early riser. And even if he were to wake her, the idea of pulling her sleepy body into his arms and carrying her back to the bed made for an appealing fantasy. Either way, he’d been sleepless for hours, restless with the need to see her again. It was still early, but now that sunrise was streaking the sky, he couldn’t wait any longer.

  Anxiety stirring, he drove the familiar road that skirted the edge of the Rimrock Ranch and ended at Rose’s property. What if she had gone? What if she didn’t want to see him? He had to be prepared for that.

  A few minutes later, he spotted the trees that grew around Rose’s property. He could see her truck parked outside the new gate, and the back of her trailer, which faced the creek.

  He parked his truck, climbed out, walked through the gate and around the trailer, and stopped cold.

  Rose, still in her nightgown, was huddled on the steps of the trailer, crying her heart out.

  “Rose!” Two strides took him to her side. He sank onto the step and wrapped her in his arms. She pressed her face against his shirt, her body heaving with sobs. “What is it, girl? What’s happened?”

  Rose didn’t speak. She only turned her head toward a grassy clearing on the far side of a new chicken coop. Following the line of her gaze, he saw the metal pen with four lifeless, bloodstained, white forms lying inside. They were lambs, barely old enough to wean. His first thought was that some animal, like a coyote, had gotten into the pen and savaged them. But then he realized that their throats had been cut.

  Rose was a tough little woman. But she must have loved those fool animals, because she was devastated. He cradled her close, kissing her hair and rocking her like a child.

  “Who could’ve done this? Did you see anything?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I was asleep. But Bull hates sheep. He threatened to kill them if I didn’t get rid of them. I know it was him.”

  * * *

  Tanner sent Rose inside the trailer and ordered her to stay while he got a shovel and started digging a pit beyond the fence. Could Bull Tyler really have killed those lambs? Tanner had heard that Bull had a ruthless side, but the man he’d met a few weeks ago had struck him as a gentleman and a caring friend to Rose. It didn’t make sense that he would commit such a brutal act.

  He would finish burying the lambs. Then he would go and talk to Bull. There had to be some explanation for what had happened here.

  Tanner had dug the pit about a third of the way down when Rose joined him, dressed in her old clothes and carrying a short-handled shovel. Without a word, she stepped in beside him and began to dig.

  “You don’t have to do this, Rose,” Tanner said. “Go sit down, or go back to the trailer.”

  She looked at him, her bloodshot eyes blazing with silent rage. “If you hadn’t come by, I’d be doing this by myself,” she said. “Let’s finish this together. Then you can take me to talk to Bull.”

  “Are you sure he did this?” Tanner thrust his shovel into the sandy earth. “Could it have been somebody else?”

  Rose shook her head. “Bull said that if the lambs wandered off the property they’d be target practice. He must’ve decided not to wait. As for it being somebody else, look at the chickens. They weren’t touched. Ber
nice gave me those chickens. Bull would’ve known better than to hurt them. Anybody just wanting to harass me would have killed the chickens, too.”

  “Let me go alone and talk to him, Rose. You’re upset. You’ll only make things worse.”

  Rose hefted a shovelful of earth and dumped it over the rim of the pit. “This isn’t your fight, Tanner.”

  “It’s become my fight. Anybody who hurts you will have to deal with me. Even if it’s Bull Tyler.”

  When the pit was deep enough, Tanner dragged the dead lambs into it. Rose, who’d begun to cry again, insisted on helping cover them. When the grave was done, Tanner shoveled away the bloodstains in the lamb pen, rinsed off the tools in the creek, and put them away. It occurred to him then that he should have looked for footprints before he disturbed the ground. But it was too late for that now.

  Rose had washed her face and hands in the trailer. “Let’s go find Bull,” she said.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to wait?”

  She shook her head.

  “Fine,” Tanner said. “We’ll take my truck.”

  * * *

  Sitting next to Tanner in the truck, Rose was silent. She was grateful that Tanner had come back, but right now the slaughter of her lambs overshadowed everything. How could Bull have done such a terrible thing? She had come to trust him. She’d believed he was her friend.

  But this was the man who’d dumped her in Mexico for twelve years and taken over her land, she reminded herself. Bull Tyler was capable of anything.

  “Are you all right?” Tanner laid a light hand on her knee.

  “I will be,” she said. “And thanks for being here. It would’ve been a lot harder on my own.”

  “Coming from an independent little firebrand like you, that’s saying a lot,” he said. “When we get through this mess, you and I will have some serious talking to do.”

  Rose didn’t reply. They were pulling into the ranch yard of the Rimrock. Bull had just come out of the house. He walked toward the truck as they drove up. Without waiting for Tanner, Rose flung herself out of the passenger side and strode up to confront him.

  His friendly expression faded as he saw her face. “You look like you’re on the warpath. What’s the matter, Rose?” he asked. “What’s happened?”

  “You should know!” she sputtered, almost in tears again. “I thought you were my friend. I know you hated those lambs, but how could you do this monstrous thing?”

  “Do what?” He looked more angry than innocent. “For God’s sake, tell me!”

  Tanner had joined her. “Somebody killed her lambs in the night, cut their throats,” he said. “She thinks it was you.”

  “What?” He swore as the news sank in. “Rose, I don’t know who killed your lambs, but I swear to God it wasn’t me.”

  “How do I know that?” Rose faced him toe-to-toe. “You’ve lied to me before. You lied when you took my land!”

  “But I wouldn’t lie about this—not even if I’d killed those lambs. I’d tell you right up front because I’d want you to know it.”

  “But you knew I had the lambs,” Rose said. “You told me to get rid of them. You even said they’d be shot if I didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. But I didn’t sneak over to your place in the night and slit their throats. Listen, Rose, my sons loved those damn fool animals. They’ve been begging to go back to your place and see them again.”

  “And you wouldn’t let them.”

  “They were in school,” Bull said. “I told them that if they did all their homework, they could go back and see the lambs on Saturday. Damn it, Rose, I knew those lambs would be nothing but trouble, but I wouldn’t have killed them.”

  For the first time, Rose began to believe him. “But if not you, who else knew I had those lambs? I can’t believe it was Jasper.”

  “Of course it wasn’t,” Bull said. “But word gets around in cattle country like this. Anybody could’ve heard about those lambs and decided to send you a message. That’s what I was trying to warn you about when I came over the other day. That’s why I even offered you a way to get rid of them. You were asking for trouble, Rose. Whoever killed those lambs, you’re damned lucky they didn’t hurt you, too.”

  “I can look into it if you want,” Tanner offered. “The TSCRA is posting me in Blanco Springs for a while. Catching sheep killers isn’t in my job description, but at least I can keep my eyes and ears open.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt,” Bull said. “The important thing is making sure that whoever did this doesn’t come back with more mischief in mind. Rose, you’re welcome to stay in the duplex until we know more.”

  “Thanks,” Rose said, “but I don’t want to leave my property unprotected. I’ve got a gun, and I know how to use it.”

  Bull and Tanner exchanged glances. They were clearly worried about her. At least it was a relief, knowing she’d been wrong about Bull.

  After promising Bull that she’d be careful, Rose joined Tanner in the truck. “Better?” Tanner asked her as they headed back toward her property.

  Rose nodded. “But I feel like a fool. I’m glad it wasn’t Bull who killed my lambs. But the idea that the monster who did it is still out there, and might be coming back . . .” She let the words trail off. The truth was, she was nervous about being alone, even with a gun.

  “I’ve got work today,” Tanner said. “But do you want me to come back tonight?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask.” As Rose laid her head against his shoulder, she felt her world slip back into place.

  * * *

  Tanner would be coming by around eight o’clock. Rose, in a reckless moment, had promised him a home-cooked meal. Her tiny kitchen didn’t allow for elaborate cooking, and Rose had never fancied herself much of a cook, but María had taught her to make a few good Mexican dishes. She decided on enchiladas, with a fresh salad from her garden. Once she’d settled on a menu, it was time to make a run to the grocery store.

  María had made everything from scratch with ingredients she’d bought in the village market. She’d made the sauce, grinding dried chiles and spices in her stone metate and hand-shaping thin, uniformly round tortillas, which she laid out on a comal, a large clay griddle that let the air bubbles in the center rise up and form layers, cooking the tortillas to perfection.

  Rose had never mastered the art of perfect tortilla making, but she had loved watching María cook. Now the memory brought tears to her eyes. Overcome by rage and the need to flee from danger, she had never taken time to grieve for the good couple who’d taken her in and treated her as one of their own. She remembered how María had taught her to cook and sew and even made her a pretty dress for her fifteenth birthday celebration, and how Ramón had taught her how to drive and maintain a car. Waves of grief swept over her as she realized how much she missed them. She had killed Lucho Cabrera for causing their deaths. If she could, she would kill Refugio and the rest of the cartel, too, and free the sad little village that would never be the same again.

  Rose splashed her face to dry her tears. Some things could never be. And right now she had a meal to prepare for a man she had thought she’d lost for good. Now he was back in her life, but would he stay? In case the answer turned out to be no, she would be wise to hold back her heart to keep him from breaking it.

  In town, she picked up dressing for the salad, a six-pack of beer, a can of prepared enchilada sauce, a block of cheese, a half-pound of cooked chicken, and a packet of tortillas that looked like cardboard and would probably taste like it, too. She would do her best to make everything taste good. Maybe someday she would have a real kitchen where she could at least try to cook like María.

  By the time Tanner was due to arrive, Rose had the table set and the salad made with fresh lettuce and baby vegetables from her garden. The enchiladas had turned out all right, though they couldn’t compare to the made-from-scratch version.

  But this wasn’t about the enchiladas. It was about the man who’d walked out of her life and co
me back—and what she would do if he didn’t stay.

  Just when she was wondering whether she’d been forgotten, Tanner showed up in his truck—late, but barely. “Smells good,” he said, stepping in through the open door and locking it behind him. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.” He paused a moment, studying her face. “Are you all right, Rose? If you had a phone, I’d have called you.”

  “I’m fine. Just one more loop on the roller coaster.” Rose showed him to a chair. “I’m still trying to convince myself you’re really back in town. After the last time, I thought we’d said good-bye for good.”

  “So did I,” Tanner said. “I’m glad we were both wrong. But according to my boss, I won’t be here forever—just until we clear the rustlers out of the canyons.”

  “I see.” At least he was being up front, letting her know he wouldn’t be around long. She could look forward to more fun in bed and another good-bye. Did she think so little of herself that she was willing to settle for that?

  “Have some enchiladas.” She dished two of them onto his plate, added some salad, and opened two beers. “They’re nothing like the ones my Mexican foster mother used to make, but I did my best with what I could find.”

  “They’re good.” He ate with enthusiasm. “I haven’t eaten all day.” He took another bite. “Where’s your foster mother now?”

  “The Cabrera cartel shot her and her husband. I lived with them for twelve years. They were family. It’s a long story.”

  “I’d like to hear it all sometime.”