Читать книгу A Rich Man For Dry Creek And A Hero For Dry Creek - Janet Tronstad - Страница 11

“B ring those bags over here.” Laurel looked behind her and spoke sharply to Sheriff Wall who was standing staring at Laurel. The sheriff looked down at his arms as though he’d forgotten they were attached to his shoulders let alone that they held two expensive bags.

Jenny looked around. The sheriff was not alone in his fascination with Laurel. The ranch hands had forgotten all about the hot coffee they’d been lining up to get. By the looks on their faces they no longer needed the coffee to warm them.

“I need my lipstick.” Laurel pouted for the benefit of the men standing around. “My lips aren’t used to weather like this.” She shivered delicately. “Why, it’s terrible out there.”

Silence greeted her pronouncement.

“It is cold at that, ma’am,” one of the ranch hands finally ventured to say.

Laurel smiled up at him. “You really should pick better weather for doing these cow things.” She turned her head so her smile hit Robert. “What is it they called it—the rustle or something?”

“Rustling,” Robert said dryly. “You’re talking about the cattle rustling that has been going on around here. A hundred thousand dollars worth of loss so far. Interstate stuff. Enough to put some of these ranchers under. The FBI is working on the case now. It’s serious here.”

“Well, they need to plan it for a warmer time of year, don’t you think?” She appealed to the sheriff who was bringing her bags to her. “Maybe you could talk to the people in charge of the rustling. Ask them to do it in the summer instead. We could have a lawn picnic then with umbrellas and iced tea.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sheriff Wall replied automatically. He looked worried. “Where do you want me to set these bags?”

Laurel looked around, her eyes finally settling on the refreshment table.

Jenny winced. The refreshment table had looked better when the evening began. The teenagers had wrapped the legs in swirls of pink crepe paper and had twisted streamers from the table edge to the floor all along the front of the table. But those streamers were gone now, leaving stubby pieces of tape behind. And the lace tablecloth borrowed from Mrs. Hargrove had a half-dozen brown circles where some coffee cup had spilled. The punch bowl still stood in the center, even though only an inch or two of liquid remained in its bottom.

“I can’t put my bags there,” Laurel appealed to Robert. “They’re genuine alligator. They’ll get wet with that stuff.” She pointed to the punch bowl.

“If they’re alligator, I expect they’ll be fine if they get wet.” Robert shook his head. He added in disgust, “The skin’s been wet before when it was on the alligator. I can’t believe you’d buy alligator skin luggage anyway. Aren’t they some kind of endangered group or something?”

The other men were more forgiving and more eager to please. One of the ranch hands took off his vest and laid it over the tablecloth. “Here. I think your bags are beautiful. And don’t worry. You can put your bags on this. Won’t hurt my old vest any.”

“Why, aren’t you kind?” Laurel gushed at the man and then looked over at the sheriff. “You can put them there.”

The sheriff set the bags on top of the vest and then ducked his head, mumbling something about getting back to the kidnappers.

“Kidnappers?” Laurel looked up with the first genuine expression that Jenny had seen on the woman’s face yet. Laurel’s smile was gone and she looked twenty percent smarter. “I thought you said they were cattle rustlers.”

“Well, they’re also kidnappers,” the sheriff said somewhat sourly.

“Oh, dear, I knew I shouldn’t have come here to this end-of-the-world place where there aren’t even police to protect me from the criminals that run loose.”

“I’m the law around here.” The sheriff stomped a little louder than he needed to on his way over to the tangle of kidnappers that were waiting for him on the floor. “I protect all the citizens of Dry Creek.” He smiled up at Laurel. “And the visitors, too, of course. I take good care of visitors.”

“But there’s only one of you.” Laurel looked aghast just thinking about it. “The Seattle police force must have thousands of people working. And they’re trained. Police academy and all that.”

“I’ve got my GED. I know it’s not the same as a high school diploma, but I know the same information. And I read those police magazines every month. And not just the free ones they send. Sometimes I buy the ones off the shelves at that big drugstore in Billings. Just don’t go listening to anyone spouting off about that hit man that came here after Miss Glory. There was no way I could have known he’d dress up like Santa Claus and come to the church pageant just like he belonged—”

“Hit man! You had a hit man, too. Right here in Dry Creek!” Laurel fanned her cheeks with one hand. “A girl like me just isn’t safe.”

“No one can get into Dry Creek that easily,” Robert said, trying to stem her rising hysteria. When he said it, he looked at Laurel more closely. It was true. Dry Creek wasn’t the easiest place to get to in the middle of a February blizzard. What had prompted Laurel to come?

“I’m sure we’re all safe,” Jenny added. She was standing behind the refreshment table still pouring coffee. The line of men wanting a cup was finally moving forward. The heat from the coffee urn had added a moist flush to Jenny’s face and she was beginning to wish she had her hairnet back so that her hair would stay in place.

Laurel turned to Jenny and scrutinized her briefly before dismissing her. “Well, I’m sure you’re perfectly safe, dear. But rich people have extra perils and anyone can see I have money.”

“What anyone can see,” Robert interrupted icily, “is that you don’t have the manners you were born with. Look around you. Money isn’t the measure of a person. Some of these people will never have an extra dime and they’re still better people than you or I will ever be with our silver spoons and our trust funds.”

One of two of the ranch hands looked at Robert in appreciation.

“Say what you want.” Laurel stepped over and snapped open one of her small alligator suitcases. “But I’ve never heard of anyone pulling a gun on someone else because they wanted to steal from a better kind of person. They’re after people with money and that’s it.”

Laurel lifted the lid on her suitcase and a wave of perfume hit the air.

The man holding his coffee cup out to Jenny strained to see over her shoulder so Jenny turned to see what the attraction was. There she saw it. Row after folded row of satin and silk lingerie. Some trimmed with lace. Some appliquéd. Slips. Nighties. In peach. Ivory. Lavender. White.

“And you’re worried about the kids becoming underwear salesmen,” Robert said quietly as he moved closer to Jenny. “I’d say she’s set up for a sales tour of all fifty states.”

The amused tone in Robert’s voice cheered Jenny up considerably. He might be rich. But he surely could still see through a woman like Laurel.

“Didn’t you pack any real clothes?” Robert finally asked. “You certainly can’t survive a blizzard with that kind of stuff. You need long johns and sweaters with maybe some sweatpants and wool scarves.”

“Oh, I had two other boxes of clothes, but they got lost in the airport baggage system somewhere. I expect they’re at the Billings airport by now. Anyway, they’re going to send them out when they can,” Laurel answered cheerfully. “Not that they have any of those blizzard clothes in them. I brought some special-occasion clothes instead.”

Laurel looked at Robert with a glance he could only call sweetly possessive. It made him nervous. He’d known Laurel for years. They’d actually gone to school together, so he was better prepared for her games than most. He knew the sweetness was an act. He just didn’t know why she was playing up to him. “There are no special occasions planned here.”

“We’ll see.” Laurel smiled smugly.

Laurel shut the lid on her suitcase and swung around a little designer purse. “You know, I think the lipstick is still in my purse. Silly me. I didn’t need to rummage around in that suitcase after all.”

Laurel pulled a long gold lipstick tube out of her purse along with a small mirror. She looked over at the men. “I don’t suppose one of you would hold this mirror up for me, would you? I just don’t feel right unless my lipstick is fresh.”

The request almost caused a fight among the ranch hands until Laurel turned and asked. “Robert, would you help me?”

Robert grimaced. Yes, this was Laurel at her best. What could he do? If he didn’t hold the mirror, a half dozen of those ranch hands would go home tonight with black eyes. And the punch bowl might get broken. He happened to know the bowl was a favorite of Mrs. Hargrove’s.

“Why don’t you prop the mirror up on that ledge over there?” Robert pointed. The barn, even though it was now a community center, had been built for working cattle and still showed the marks. “See, you can see where the stall used to be?”

Laurel gasped. “You expect me to use the remains of a cow stall!”

“Well, there hasn’t been a cow along that wall in ten years. I don’t see the harm.”

Laurel tried to contain her annoyance, but it showed. Her normally pink cheeks got a little redder. Her baby blue eyes narrowed. Her chin jutted out in a stubborn angle. Then she took a deep breath and smiled sweetly back at Robert. “You’re right, you know.”

Laurel turned to walk over to the ledge and Robert watched her. She was definitely up to something.

“Anyone else want coffee?” Jenny asked the men standing around the table. They were blocking the way for the other people who wanted something to drink by standing there and watching the blonde.

“I’ll take another cup,” one ranch hand said with a sigh. “She’s way out of my league anyway.”

“Well, of course she is, Kingman,” another ranch hand responded as he got back in line, too. “She’s way too pretty for any of us. But we can still look. She’s like a picture in one of those fancy magazines.”

“Yes, she is,” Jenny agreed. She knew how the ranch hands felt. Sometimes you couldn’t help being drawn to someone even though you knew you didn’t have a chance in a million of anything happening.

“She shouldn’t have come here,” Robert said as he looked over the people of Dry Creek. Some ranch hands were still drooling over Laurel as she dramatically rubbed her lipstick on repeatedly. He’d lay odds there’d be some sharp words exchanged among those boys before the night was over. The teenage boys weren’t far behind the ranch hands and the girls were looking like they were ready to mutiny. Even the married farm couples looked uneasy. “Laurel doesn’t belong in a place like this.”

Jenny lifted her chin. She’d emptied the coffeepot and the line had ended. “There’s nothing wrong with this place.”

“I didn’t mean—” Robert was brought back sharply. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong with this place. It’s a great place full of great people.”

“Just because it used to be a cow barn doesn’t mean it’s any less of a place,” Jenny continued like he hadn’t even spoken. “It’s a place filled with friendship and good people—well except for them maybe.” She nodded her chin at the kidnappers who were now neatly tied at one side of the barn. “And who knows—even they might not be so very bad when all is said and done.”

“I agree.” Robert moved closer to stand beside Jenny. He didn’t know how to say what he was thinking. “I like the people here. I like that this used to be a cow barn.”

“It’s because you’re slumming, isn’t it?” Jenny said quietly. The punch bowl was now empty so she pulled the ladle out. “Getting a dose of real life before you settle down in some mansion somewhere with a perfect wife and perfect kids.”

“That’s not it at all.”

Jenny had a sudden fierce wish to have her hairnet back. She knew now why she was always so insistent on wearing it even in food situations where the health code didn’t require one. It reminded her of who she was in the situation. She was the chef. She knew her place. She wasn’t a guest.

“Excuse me.” Jenny forced a smile. “I better start cleaning up or I’ll be here all night.”

“Well, you’re not going to clean up alone,” Robert protested. “Tell me what to do and where to start.”

“You can’t help—not in that tuxedo. You’ll ruin it.”

“I don’t care about the tuxedo.”

“It’s wasteful to ruin a ten-thousand dollar suit doing dishes.” Jenny felt her jaw set. If she needed any reminding about the difference between herself and Robert Buckwalter, this was certainly it. He could ruin an Italian tuxedo just because he wanted to do something else at that point in time.

Robert looked down at the suit. It probably had cost over ten thousand dollars. But who needed a suit like this, for goodness’ sake? He’d just never given any thought before to how much he spent on clothes.

“Even taking in the punch bowl won’t work. It’s sticky with sugar and almost impossible to carry without holding it against yourself,” Jenny said as she reached for the bowl herself. “What you could do is gather up the coffee cups while I take the bowl to the café and rinse it out.”

“You can’t go outside alone.”

“Why not? The kidnappers are caught.”

“These guys are caught. There could be more out there.”

Jenny looked up. Someone had put another slow song on the record player. But no one was dancing. She could tell that the party was winding down. “I think with all these people here they would have spotted a stranger.”

“They didn’t spot Santa Claus when he was the hit man and almost got that woman—the one they called Dry Creek’s angel,” he protested. “Besides, I’d prefer to come with you.”

Jenny shrugged as she put on a jacket Mrs. Hargrove had lent her for the evening. “It’s just across the parking lot.”

“You need someone to open the doors anyway.”

Robert followed Jenny to the barn door. The sheriff and some of the other men were squatted down on the floor in one corner talking to the kidnappers.

“Think they’re the last of the lot?” Robert asked the men as he stood by the door.

The sheriff nodded. The man looked a lot more competent dealing with the kidnappers than when handling Laurel and her luggage. “I’m sure we’re safe for now anyway. He—” the sheriff jerked his head at the FBI agent “—thinks someone in Dry Creek is an inside informant on this rustling business, but even if that’s true we should be safe tonight.”

Robert nodded his thanks as he opened the door for Jenny.

The stars were no longer showing in the night sky and flakes of snow steadily blew in from the north. The men had stomped down much of the snow earlier but the boot prints were filling with the latest batch of snow.

“I doubt half these cars will start,” Robert said as he looked at the twenty-some odd vehicles parked around the barn.

Robert had never felt cold like this before. He’d given his coat to the old man earlier and had insisted the man keep it. Now he was glad one of the ranch hands had pressed a wool jacket into his hands as Robert was heading out. Even with the jacket, his heart pounded faster to keep warm. He’d swear his eyelids were freezing.

“They’ve got jumper cables,” Jenny said through chattering teeth.

A dim light was on in the café’s porch and Robert opened the porch door quickly. Even though the porch was boarded together and the wind blew in through some of the holes, it was several degrees warmer inside.

“Let me get the door,” Robert said as he reached for the main door. “Do you have a key?”

“It’s not locked. They left it open for us tonight.”

“Then you better let me check it out first. Someone could have come inside.”

In the yellow light of the porch, Jenny could see her breath come out in white puffs. Her lips were stiff from the cold and she felt snowflakes melting in her hair.

“But what would you do anyway if someone was in there? You don’t have a weapon.”

“Well, neither one of us has a weapon.”

“I have this bowl.”

“You wouldn’t dare break Mrs. Hargrove’s bowl over someone’s head. From what I hear, that bowl has served the punch for every wedding in this community for the past forty years. It’s practically a tradition all by itself.”

“It is a nice bowl. Heavier than it looks, too. Real cut glass.”

Robert had bent low and was looking in the glass panes of the café door. It looked like the only upright shadows inside were from chairs although it was hard to tell because the girls had used the café as a changing room and there were T-shirts and jeans everywhere. “I’m going in. Give it a minute and then follow.”

The doorknob was as cold as any metal Robert had ever gripped. But it turned easily and he stepped into the café. The air inside still smelled of cooking. He thought it was the stuffed mushrooms he smelled.

Robert flipped on the overhead light for the café and saw that the jumble looked undisturbed from the last time he had walked through. “Let me check out the kitchen first before you come in.”

Without waiting for an answer, Robert walked toward the back of the room where the kitchen door was. The café was small so he reached the other side with a few strides. The light in the kitchen revealed all was safe there, as well.

Robert heard the cell phone ring on the porch. It must still be in Jenny’s apron pocket. He’d bet a punch bowl full of pudding that it was Jenny’s sister calling. Which reminded him, he owed her a story. Assuming, of course, that she was able to get him off that cursed list.

“For you,” Jenny called as she walked across the café and into the kitchen. “It’s my sister.”

Jenny listened as Robert and her sister talked. Robert paced as he walked. Up and down the cold kitchen. His cheeks were red from the temperature and his dark hair was wet where snow had melted now that he was in the relative warmth of the kitchen. He looked excited though, wheeling and dealing with her sister. He said goodbye with laughter.

“Your sister is something,” Robert reported as he hung up the phone. “Those editors will have their hands full with her.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

The outside door to the café opened and Jenny and Robert both stiffened until they heard Mrs. Hargrove. “I hope you’re not doing dishes at this time of night.”

The kitchen door opened and the older woman stood there with a wool scarf wrapped around her head and a blanket thrown over her shoulders like a shawl. “We’ve had so much excitement tonight, the dishes need to wait. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Enough snow is predicted to close all the roads. We’ll have nothing better to do than dishes. I’ve already asked Mr. Gossett to help us. It’ll help settle him down. He’s been anxious lately.”

“But if the roads are closed, we won’t be able to get to the café from Garth’s ranch,” Jenny said. “And I can’t leave the two of you with all these dishes.”

“I’ve got extra rooms at my house. You’re both welcome to spend the night at my place.”

“Robert doesn’t need to,” Jenny began in alarm. A man like him shouldn’t be helping with cleanup.

“I’d be delighted.” Robert accepted the older woman’s invitation.

Robert grinned. Things were working out better than he could have hoped. He’d have some talking time with Jenny tonight and tomorrow.

“I already invited your friend—” Mrs. Hargrove smiled at Robert.

Robert’s grin froze.

“—or fiancée, I guess I should say. Considering that she brought a wedding dress with her to Dry Creek.”

“She brought a what!”