"It's ok boy. We'll find her. We have to."
The dog looked up at him, trying to understand. He felt very sad and anxious, and lay down with his head between his paws.
The truck pounded along the dirt track. Hank had searched practically every square inch of the extensive ranch land. Now he was heading to the perimeter to start searching beyond. He had no idea of where to look but persevered with a dogged determination. He would never stop searching for Rose. He would find her soon. He had to.
---oOo---
"Hey babe," said Pete, sidling up to a brunette at the bar. She was tall and slim and pretty, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a white top that hugged her shapely breasts. Pete did not try to disguise the fact that he was openly ogling her cleavage. "Can I buy you a drink?"
The girl turned and looked at him dismissively. "No thanks." She then turned her back on him and continued her conversation with her girl friend at the bar.
"Hey. Not so fast." Pete's eyes glittered. He grabbed the brunette's arm. "It's bad manners to refuse a drink from a gentleman,"
"You're no gentleman. Get your hand off my arm, you jerk," she said, pulling away from him.
"I'm just being friendly," said Pete. His words slurred as his eyes drank in the sight of her. He was partial to brunettes.
"Get lost."
Pete glared. He was not used to being refused. Most women went for his lean body and darkly handsome looks. He was not going to allow this bitch to ignore him. He was about to make another grab at her when two men approached the bar. One of them kissed the brunette, and the other put an arm around the other girl's waist. Temporarily thwarted, Pete backed off. He ordered another drink and sloped off back to his table to drink it, staring hostilely at the back of the brunette who had given him the brush off.
He became more unpleasant and aggressive with each drink. "Fucking women," he muttered. "Whores. Fuck the lot of 'em."
It was then he realised it must be time to make another call to the Armstrong ranch. He took the cell phone from his pocket. He had bought it over the counter and it wasn't registered to him, so no one could trace him from the number. He redialled the Armstrong ranch and waited.
His call was answered. A woman's voice spoke.
"Hi, Armstrong ranch. How..."
Pete rudely interrupted her. "Get me Hank Armstrong," he said.
"He's not available right now. Can I take a message?"
"No you can't take a fucking message," said Pete. "Get me the other one - Isaac. Isaac Armstrong. Put him on."
"Who is this?" Brenda frowned. This was the guy who had phoned earlier. She didn't like the sound of him. As well as being offensive he was also obviously drunk. "Who is calling?"
"Never mind who I am. Just put him on," demanded Pete.
"Listen, neither Hank nor Isaac are here, and I don't like your tone. If you can't be civil, then put the phone down and go and sober up," snapped Brenda.
She was in no mood for this and was about to hang up, when he said something that made her breath catch in the back of her throat.
"I know where she is. Rose Windsor. There - that got your attention?" Pete swallowed another mouthful of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Where is she? Is she hurt? Give me the address of where we can find her."
"Her address?" Pete laughed loudly. The little wooden box under the earth was hardly much of an address. He found the thought surprisingly amusing. "Lady - you listen and you listen good. I'll tell you where to find her, but first I want 2 million dollars from Hank Armstrong."
"What?" Brenda was shocked. This idiot was asking for ransom money for Rose.
"You heard me. Two million." Pete began to get carried away. "Two million or I start cutting off her fingers one by one." He cackled loudly as though he had made a really funny joke. "After that I'll see what other bits I can cut off her."
Brenda's mind was in a whirl. She took a deep breath and tried to keep calm and steady her voice.
"Don't hurt her, or we won't pay you a bean." She would humour him and get as much information as possible before he hung up. "Is she there with you? I'd like to speak to her."
"No she's not here and I don't like your attitude, bitch - the price has just gone up. I want 3 million dollars - you hear? Three million dollars in exchange for Rose or I... hey! What the fuck?!..."
Brenda listened. There was a clatter as though he had dropped the phone on the ground, and there were sounds of a scuffle with many voices shouting, one of them yelling and cursing loudly. As she listened, there came the noise of chairs scraping on the floor, followed by dull thuds as they were knocked over. Clearly there was some fighting going on. Brenda bit her lip. The yelling intensified and she heard distinct thuds as though someone were being punched. Could this sick bastard lead them to Rose? Where was she? What had he done with her? Was she hurt?
It was agony, waiting for news and listening to what was going on without knowing exactly what was happening. She found that she was trembling so much, she could barely hold the phone with her shaking fingers.
After what seemed like an eternity, someone picked the phone up at the other end.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Please! Call the sheriff - the man I was just speaking to - he knows where Rose is and..."
"It's ok lady. We've already called for the Sheriff."
"Oh, thank God for that."
"The name's Chuck Andrews. Hank and I go way back. I was out with him yesterday helping with the search for Rose. Me and my boys were just having a quiet drink and a bite to eat here when we heard the jerk mouthing off at the next table. He's so drunk he was shouting. Everybody heard what he said, demanding money and threatening to cut her if he didn't get it. He sure is one sick son of a bitch."
"Yes, yes," agreed Brenda. "We need to get him to tell us where he's hidden Rose."
"Sheriff's here now, ma'am. He'll get the truth real quick. Guess he'll want this phone as evidence."
"Oh. Yes, I understand. But please - call me or get the Sheriff to call me just as soon as he can?"
"Sure will ma'am. Don't you worry now. Everything's going to be just fine now."
"Oh god - I hope so. Thank you, Chuck."
"You're welcome, ma'am."
There was a soft click as Chuck hung up. Brenda exhaled. She wasn't much of a drinker, but right now she felt the need to raid a tot of Isaac's best bourbon. She knew he kept it in the cabinet in his study. Her nerves were frayed. She poured herself a small glass and knocked it back. The liquid burned the back of her throat and made her eyes water.
She called Hank's mobile, intending to bring him up to speed, but there was no answer. When the answer phone kicked in she left a message, explaining what had just taken place, and promised to call again as soon as she had some news. Next she rang Isaac's cell. As she did so, his phone began to ring immediately. He had left it on his desk underneath a pile of papers.
Sighing, Brenda poured another small shot and sat in Isaac’s chair. All she could do now, aside from praying that Rose was unharmed, was sit and wait.
Brenda looked around the room. Isaac's study was cozy and book-lined, with a couple of easy chairs, a large desk and some filing cabinets. A computer sat on the desk, replacing the old typewriter with the wonky keys that he used to have. For some reason he named the typewriter Gonzo. Goodness knows why. Brenda sighed and smiled at the recollection.
He always did love his study, she mused. It was his little haven, a place where he could have some personal space. Right now she had invaded his space, but he wouldn't mind. She could have sat at home waiting for news, but it didn't seem right. She needed to be here, with her sons, with Isaac, and all the familiar faces on the ranch. How she had missed all this. She had made her choice to leave all those years ago, but she had paid the price, for although she had made a good career for herself that required a high commitment to work, it was a lonely life even though she was constantly busy. And it was lonely because she had made
it that way, shunning off the admiring attentions of other men. And why? Because she loved Isaac. She realised then that she had never stopped loving him. But she couldn't live with him.
Once more the thoughts raced through her mind. Was it time to return home? Even though she had lived elsewhere for 16 years, the ranch was still home and it always would be. Isaac had mellowed. They had talked often during the past three months, often talking long into the night - real conversations, deep and meaningful - such as they had never really done when they were younger. She now felt she knew much more about the man she had married all those years ago. He had certainly changed for the better, she knew that - and he knew it too - and he constantly referred to it to try and get her to come back and live with him as man and wife.
Man and wife. She smiled at the thought, for it was an appealing one. It would be fun to enjoy sex again, as that was one area where they had always been compatible! She closed her eyes and thought of lying naked in his bed, skin to skin, her head nestling on his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her. She had missed that, and a part of her longed to wake up in the mornings next to the man she loved and have him stroke her hair and kiss her and share his life with her.
But those thoughts could wait. Right now she had other things to think about. Rose - they had become so close in a short space of time that the girl had become the daughter she had never had. She would have liked more children and a girl would have been a wonderful addition to the family, but it never happened for them. After Scott had been born, there were no further children. Rose was like a breath of fresh air, and a perfect partner for Hank. Rose had been motherless for most of her life, and raised by her father.
"I missed having a mum to talk to," Rose had once said to her. "Dad was great and did the best he could, but there were times I really wanted my mother."
"You have a mother now," Brenda had replied. "A mother who loves you very much. A mother who will always be here for you."
Brenda sniffed and dabbed the corner of her eyes. It wouldn't do to burst in to tears. She must keep in control. At least now they had some news of Rose, instead of the endless days of waiting and searching without success. And surely Rose must be alive if the guy who called was asking for a ransom?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Hannah the cook poked her head around the door.
"Sorry to disturb you. There's a pot of fresh coffee in the kitchen, and Mary-Lou has made a batch of white chocolate cookies - your favourite."
"You spoil me," smiled Brenda. "I'll come into the kitchen and sit with you there. I'm afraid I'm getting quite maudlin here by myself."
"We thought as much," nodded Hannah.
So Brenda followed Hannah out into the big ranch kitchen and brought the kitchen staff up to date about the recent phone call.
"But that's marvellous news," said Mary Lou. "She must be alive if they are demanding ransom money. Oh my god, we've all been so worried."
"Yes," said Kayla. "I agree. They wouldn't be asking for a ransom if she were... you know..." She couldn't quite bring herself to say the word 'dead'. Her face crumpled and she shook her head. "Poor Rose, what a terrible time she must be having."
"Hank has been going mad with anxiety. He looks so haggard and he's hardly eaten a thing for days," said Hannah. "And then there's the wedding..."
The four women looked at one another. During the frantic search for Rose the past few days, the fact that Rose and Hank were scheduled to get married in three days time had been pushed to the back of their minds. Hank hadn't made arrangements to cancel the event. He wouldn't let himself believe that Rose wouldn't be found alive and well. He had spent practically every waking moment searching for her.
The conversation dwindled, and the women sat in silence, each with their own personal thoughts; each hoping fervently that everything would be well and life could get back to normal.
"You know what we need to fix us?" said Brenda.
"What?"
"A little nip of Isaac's bourbon. I'll go get the bottle."
---oOo---
Hank, Isaac, five of the ranch hands and Tink drove in silence. Hank's mood was palpable and it was contagious. Tink's senses told him something was badly wrong, and every once in a while he made little growly noises to indicate he was aware that something was going on.
The big truck bounced along the rutted track. The hot afternoon sun blazed overhead. They headed 20 miles east and continued past the area previously searched, carrying on until they came to the perimeter of the Armstrong ranchlands. Beyond it was a vast stretch of scenic open land, with rivers, lakes, rolling hills and huge cypress and cedar trees.
The fact remained that Rose could be anywhere. She could be on Armstrong land, or she could be hidden on neighbouring land, or she could be hundreds if not thousands of miles away, and the not knowing her whereabouts was a terrible thing to endure. But something inexplicably primal within Hank gnawed at his belly, telling him that she was close to home. He was a man who over the years had come to rely on the accuracy of his instincts, but if she was close to home, then where the hell was she? He knew she would not have run away. So that meant she must have had some sort of accident, or had been abducted. Neither prospect was a pleasant one.
Hank pulled up under the shade of a cedar tree and everyone piled out of the truck. They all carried guns and each man had a lightweight back pack containing first aid equipment, a torch, flares, and water bottles. They also had poles to push aside the long grasses in case Rose had dropped anything that could give them a lead. They gathered beside the truck, conferring on the spread of the area to be searched next.
"Right," said Hank, shouldering his pack. "As before - if anyone finds anything, holler and send up a flare."
"Will do," said Isaac. "I'll take the dog with me as he's tagged along." He turned. "Tinker. Tink? Darn - where's he gone?"
"He was there a couple minutes ago," said Gabe. "He was sniffin' around near that bush."
"Tink! Here boy." Connor called, expecting the Boxer dog to come bounding through the grass.
"Tink!" called Isaac. He whistled. The dog always answered that particular whistle by either barking or rushing headlong to meet him.
But this time, Tink didn't respond. There was no sign of him anywhere. Isaac frowned. This was odd.
"Damned dog," growled Hank.
"Wait! Wait - I hear him. Listen!" said Isaac.
The men stood still and listened, and sure enough, in the distance there came the unmistakable sound of Tink barking loudly.
Isaac called him and whistled again and again, but the dog did not come to him. Instead, the timbre of his barks changed. They were short and sharp, excitable.
"He's found something. Must be chasing a squirrel or something."
"What if..." Hank paused. "What if he's found something. Rose. What if he's found Rose? Come on. Let's go."
Hank led the way, followed by Isaac and ranchers. They called for Tink at intervals and were rewarded by his high pitched barking, which sounded quite frenzied.
"It's something important to keep him there instead of coming back to me," puffed Isaac. Hank had started to run, and Isaac was struggling a bit to keep up the pace.
Hank was spurred on by the wild hope that surged within him. This time... this time he knew that Rose was close. He knew it. He felt it in every fibre of his being.
"Rose!" he called. "Rose! I'm coming."
---oOo---
Rose sat in the stifling darkness, her back propped up against the timber wall of her underground prison. The battery of the torch had long since died and the darkness pressed in on her. Aside from fear and being thirsty beyond imagining, she now struggled to breathe. There was very little air left in this place. How long had she been here? Time was meaningless. Was it day or was it night? Had Pete forgotten about her? Was he coming back? If he didn't return soon, she would die in this awful place.
She murmured Hank's name through her dry and cracked lips, th
en closed her eyes, sinking into semi-oblivion. It would be so easy to give in and go to sleep and never wake up. But she fought against that because she still had hope that somehow, Hank would come for her. She clung to that hope as she struggled for breath.
In her half unconscious state she was dimly aware that something imperceptible had changed, but she was too exhausted to wonder what it was. Eventually, through her dulled senses she heard a distinct sound - a muffled whining followed by a succession of yelps. Still, she didn't make the connection. Tink charged around at the hidden entrance to the underground structure. He had picked up her scent way back on the track. He recognised her scent and went to find her. He scrabbled frantically, burrowing, his paws flinging the grass and branches aside that Pete had used to cover over the old wooden timbers. There were cracks between the timbers. He used his nose and paws and teeth and managed to move one plank an inch or so. It made all the difference.
A faint shard of light penetrated Rose's domain. It hung in the air like a golden thread, bringing with it the tiniest breath of fresh air. She gulped it down and tried to speak, but all she could manage was a croak.
Tink went berserk. He barked and barked, telling Isaac and the rest of them to get over here fast. Rose was down here. He had found her. They would be pleased. The bad feeling would go away once they got her out of this pit. He barked again, and then whined softly and made his little growly noises to tell Rose that everything was going to be all right.
Hank was first on the scene. He took one look at what Tink had been doing and flung himself down on his knees, tearing the ancient timbers apart with his bare hands.
"Rose! Rose, darling!" Oh God Oh God. Let her be all right. Please. Please, let her be all right.
As he removed more and more of the wooden planks, he could see a shape in the airless gloom below. With each baton of wood he moved, the light within the underground bunker became brighter. He could see the shape clearer now. It was... someone. He held his breath, his heart banging furiously in his chest. It was Rose.
Love on a Ranch Box Set Page 11