Читать книгу Texas Forever - Janet Dailey - Страница 11

CHAPTER FIVE

BY THE TIME LUKE HAD SHOD HIS SIXTEENTH HORSE FOR THE DAY and turned it out to graze, the sun was sinking behind the escarpment. Even at day’s end, its searing fire blazed like a brand against the pitiless blue sky. Heat waves shimmered over the gravel in the ranch yard. Blown by a stray breeze, a dust devil swirled across the pasture and vanished behind a clump of mesquite.

Dripping with sweat and aching in every muscle, Luke stowed the anvil and his tools in the trailer he’d parked alongside the barn. That done, he picked up an empty bucket, filled it with cold water from the pump, and tipped it over his head. The cold water flowed through his hair, trickled over his face, and streamed down his chest and back. He shuddered as the icy cascade gave his senses a welcome shock. The shed’s corrugated metal roof had lent some shade, but working in the space below had been like standing under a broiler.

Recovering, he sluiced the water off his chest and arms, slicked back his hair, and reached for the chambray work shirt he’d tossed over a fence rail. By the time he made it to the bunkhouse kitchen, his body would be dry enough to slip the shirt on.

Shadows lengthened as he crossed the yard. The warm evening breeze carried the aromas of simmering ham and beans and fresh biscuits. Luke hadn’t eaten since breakfast and his empty belly rumbled with a working man’s hunger. He had no complaints about the meals here. The food was nothing fancy, but it was good, and there was plenty of it.

Other men would be coming in, too. The cowhands who shared the bunkhouse seemed friendly enough, but Luke, by habit, kept to himself. He seldom stayed long enough in any one place to make close friends. If things worked out, he’d be with the Rimrock through the fall roundup. Then, with winter weather coming on and no more horses to shoe, he’d likely head south to the big ranches that ran cattle year round. There were bosses down there who knew him and would have need of his skill.

Or he could go home to Oklahoma, where he’d been raised, and spend time with the elderly grandmother whose nursing home care he paid for. It cost a lot to keep her in a good place, but she had taken him in when he had nowhere to go. Aside from the half brother he’d lost touch with years ago, she was his only living relative. Almost ninety, she was too hard of hearing to use a phone, but he sent her monthly letters, which the caregivers read to her. And he kept the staff informed of his whereabouts—something he’d need to do again in the next few days.

Most of the time, he avoided thinking about his half brother Bart. Thoughts of Bart only triggered the nightmarish memory that had plagued him for years.

Eleven years his senior, Bart had reluctantly taken in twelve-year-old Luke. Life with Bart and his Comanche wife, sleeping on the sofa in their one-bedroom apartment and holding his ears against the noise coming through the bedroom door, had been no picnic. Neither had washing his clothes in the bathroom sink and going to school hungry most days. But at least he’d had a roof over his head, and he could look forward to the day when he’d be old enough to leave and get a job.

Then one night, everything had changed. Luke had been jarred out of sleep by the sounds of a drunken fight. He’d rushed into the kitchen to find a nightmare scene.

Brandishing a butcher knife, Bart had backed his wife into a corner. As Luke watched in horror, he’d slashed her face from her temple to the corner of her mouth. Amid the bleeding and screaming, Luke had thrown the woman a towel, ordered his drunken brother out of sight, and called 911 for an ambulance. That was the last he’d seen of her.

The police had never been called, but Bart had paid the price for what he’d done. His wife’s brothers had caught him alone and beaten him up so badly that he’d suffered head injuries and been forced to go on permanent disability. A few months later, when Bart had been arrested for stealing to support his drug habit, Luke’s widowed grandmother, who owned a small farm, had taken in the traumatized boy and given him the love and support he’d needed. Paying for her care now was the least Luke could do.

The call of a whip-poor-will brought Luke’s thoughts back to the present. In the big house, a single light had come on. Except for visiting family, the funeral guests had gone. Only the white Camry with rental plates remained parked among the family vehicles.

He remembered the sight of Erin in her simple blue dress, her loose-blowing hair catching the sunlight. His memory lingered for a moment on the way the sleeveless top had clung to the firm peaks of her breasts and narrowed around her tiny waist. The first sight of her had stopped his breath. Then he’d noticed the tall, handsome man with her and wondered if she’d picked up an older boyfriend. Luke’s relief, when she’d introduced the stranger as her uncle, had caught him by surprise. Why the hell should it matter? For all he cared, the man could be her sugar daddy.

All he wanted from the Rimrock Ranch was a season of steady work and enough money to pay for a few months of his grandmother’s care, with cash left over to get him to wherever he was going next. The last thing he needed was the distraction of Will Tyler’s sexy little princess daughter.

Forcing her image from his mind, he slipped on his shirt, buttoned it, and lengthened his stride toward the bunkhouse.

* * *

Erin took Kyle’s phone call in the kitchen, where she’d been cleaning up after an informal supper. He was sweetly repentant, apologizing for his earlier behavior and for being forced to escort his mother to the funeral.

“Mom was so emotional,” he said. “I didn’t know that she’d ever even met the old man. But when she took your dad’s hand, I thought she was going to cry. I wanted to come and find you, but she wouldn’t leave my side.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Erin said. “I was busy the whole time.”

“I know you’ll be going to the Hill Country for the burial tomorrow,” he said. “But I’m hoping we can spend some time together next week. Maybe we could even drive into Lubbock for a movie and dinner. We’ve gotten into a rut with the Burger Shack. It’s time we had a real date. How does that sound?”

“Not bad,” she hedged. “Let me check Dad’s schedule and see when he can spare me.”

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not.” Erin could almost picture his puppy dog expression. “I’ll call you on Monday. We can make plans then.”

She ended the call, wondering why she wasn’t more eager for an evening in the city. It wasn’t as if she was still angry with Kyle. It was more like she didn’t care—as if her attitude had undergone a subtle shift. Maybe it had something to do with Beau’s advice to take her time until she was sure of her feelings.

Drying her hands on a dish towel, she walked into the den, where Will and Rose were watching a newscast on the big screen TV. Beau’s family had gone into town for pizza, probably to avoid any chance of an ugly confrontation over the evening meal.

“Here you are,” her father said, using the remote to switch off the TV. “Sit down. I have a big favor to ask of you.”

Erin sank onto a footstool, knowing that, coming from her dad, any request for a favor would be more like an order.

“You may not like it,” he said.

Erin braced herself and waited for him to continue.

“Tomorrow, when we take Jasper to the Hill Country, I’ll need somebody to stay behind and supervise the ranch work,” he said. “The best person available for that job is you.”

Erin stifled a murmur of disappointment. She’d wanted to make the drive and see Jasper laid to rest. But she was old enough to know that ranch duties had to come first. “I thought Pete Waxman was going to do that,” she said. “He’s been here long enough to handle things.”

“Pete’s had a family emergency. He’ll be gone most of next week. And since Sky will be going with us tomorrow, we’ll need somebody in charge who knows the horses and can make sure Maddox has enough work.”

Maddox. Something that felt like a coiled spring tightened in Erin’s stomach. The surly farrier wasn’t going to like her bossing him. But that was his problem.

“As long as you’re staying here,” Will continued, “you may as well clean out Jasper’s side of the duplex. Throw away the junk, box his clothes and things for donation, and save anything that looks important. I know that might be hard on you, Erin, but somebody’s got to do the job. Strip the bed and put out clean sheets for Maddox. You can leave the dishes and some coffee, too.”

“Maddox?” It was more of a protest than a question. “But Jasper lived in that duplex for years. It was his home.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s coming back,” Will said. “Maddox is a tradesman, not a cowhand. He deserves better quarters than the bunkhouse. You can tell him it was my decision.”

Erin sighed and nodded. On the Rimrock, even for her, Will’s word was law. But she wasn’t looking forward to the next day.

As if sensing some tension, Rose broached a different subject. “Erin, I met your young man and his mother at the luncheon today,” she said.

“My young man?” Erin didn’t recall having told Rose about Kyle.

“That’s how his mother introduced him to me,” Rose said. “Not as your young man—I suppose that’s an old-fashioned term these days—but as your boyfriend. He seemed very nice and polite—and handsome, too. Of course, it’ll take more than a pretty face and good manners to make the kind of husband you’ll want to stand by your side and help you run this ranch someday.”

Erin had learned that Rose tended to speak her mind. But even she was startled by the older woman’s frankness.

“Kyle’s young,” Will said. “He’s got a lot to learn. But his father manages the old Prescott Ranch for the syndicate. He’s a capable man. I’m guessing that given time, his son will be the same.”

Erin had to stop her jaw from dropping. She’d guessed that her father approved of her dating Kyle. But she’d never expected Will to defend him, let alone talk as if he might have plans for their future.

Arguments sprang into her mind. She was only nineteen. She hadn’t made up her mind about Kyle. She wasn’t even sure she was in love. But Erin kept her silence. Her dad had been through an emotional three days. He deserved some peace. They could talk later. Right now, there was only one thing to do.

Rising from her seat, she said a subdued good night and walked out of the room.

The long day had drained her. But it was too early to go to bed, and she was too restless to settle somewhere and read the novel she’d started. After the luncheon, she’d shed her dress and sandals and changed into jeans, sneakers, and a plain black tank top. Now she wandered out the front door and onto the porch.

The night was warm, the breeze no more than a whisper. She inhaled the parched air, yearning for the fresh scent of rain. But there was nothing to smell but dust, blended with the odors of horses and cattle and the lingering aromas of ham and beans that drifted from the bunkhouse kitchen. A mosquito whined around her ears. She brushed it away. The pesky insects had never plagued her like they did some people. They’d never bothered Will, either. Maybe there was something in Tyler blood that drove them away.

Needing to move, she headed down the front steps. Her father had never liked her wandering the ranch alone after dark, but she wasn’t a child anymore, and she didn’t plan to be gone long.

The security light clicked on as she reached the bottom of the steps and moved out into the yard. Her shadow stretched behind her, elongated by the angle of the light. With each step, gravel crunched under her sneakers. She’d hoped that walking might help clear her thoughts, but her father’s words kept replaying in her mind. His support of Kyle had caught her by surprise. What had he been thinking?

Maybe Jasper’s death had made Will more aware of his own mortality. Maybe he wanted to see her safely settled. Or maybe he was hoping for grandchildren to carry on his line. Erin loved her father, but marrying anyone just to please him could turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

Pausing, she scanned the yard for any sign of Henry. But if the big bull snake was out of his den, he was evidently hunting somewhere else. A smile teased Erin’s lips as she remembered how Luke Maddox had grabbed her in a panic to keep her from stepping on the scary but nonvenomous snake. She’d glimpsed the vulnerable, human side of the farrier that night.

But she certainly hadn’t seen that side of him since. The word prickly didn’t do the man’s disposition justice. She didn’t look forward to working with him tomorrow.

She passed the windmill, its vanes barely moving in the listless breeze. Now she could hear the mares and foals in the paddock. Their peaceful blowing and nickering told her all was well with them. Being with horses always calmed her spirit. That was just one of the reasons why Erin had dedicated her life to breeding, raising, and training them.

Her horses were like her children. The thought of selling them off to keep the ranch afloat through the drought was enough to break her heart. But she was a Tyler—Will’s daughter and Bull’s granddaughter. The long-range future of the Rimrock was in her hands. She would do what had to be done.

The moon was rising to the east, a thin sliver above the distant hills. Beyond the pens, Erin could see the mares moving in the shadows, keeping their foals close. The paddock was large, about the size of a rodeo arena. The near side faced the barn and the pens. The far side bordered on open land that sloped up to the foothills of the escarpment. It was a safe place as long as the horses stayed together, but a straying foal, alone at night, could become prey for a roving pack of coyotes or feral dogs. The mares seemed to know this. They stayed alert for any danger—which made it strange that they hadn’t warned Erin about the dark shape of a man standing by the paddock fence.

Her pulse lurched when she saw him. She paused, about to back away and make a silent retreat, when the man turned his head and saw her. The faint glow of the security light fell on his face. It was Luke Maddox.

His relaxed posture sent an unspoken message that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Does your daddy know you’re wandering out here at night, young lady?” His voice dripped irony. “Don’t you know there could be some unsavory characters hanging around the place with mischief on their minds?”

“That’s my problem,” she retorted. “And this is my ranch. I’m the one who should be asking the questions.”

“So, ask away.”

The man’s insolent undertone made her want to lash out at him. But something told her that if she did, he’d only laugh at her. “I’ll start by asking what you’re doing out here,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be in the bunkhouse?”

“I thought you were running a ranch, not a prison camp. Is it against the rules to go outside—especially when that damned bunkhouse is noisier than a riot in a Tijuana cathouse? I came out here for some peace and quiet.”

“Well, then, I’ve got some good news for you.” Erin claimed her own spot against the fence. They stood a few feet apart, looking out over the paddock. “My father asked me to clear out one side of the duplex for you tomorrow. You can take your meals in the bunkhouse, but you’ll have your own quarters.”

“Now that’s right nice. Tell your father I said thank you.” He actually sounded sincere.

“You can thank the man they’ll be burying tomorrow. It was his place for years. Boxing up his things won’t be easy for me. Jasper Platt was loved and respected by everyone on this ranch. He’ll be missed—terribly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I move in. If you need help packing, let me know.”

“You’ll be too busy shoeing horses to help,” Erin said. “That’s another thing. Tomorrow Sky and my father are taking Jasper’s body to the Hill Country for burial. I’m being left in charge.”

“So you’ll be my boss for the day. That should be interesting.”

Erin bristled. “My father’s been training me to run this ranch for years. And Sky’s been teaching me to manage horses most of my life. I’m as capable as any man on the Rimrock. I can take anything you throw at me, and don’t you forget it. Oh—and I’ll be alone, without a dueña. Sorry about your precious reputation.”

A slow grin sidled across his face. His laughter was a bone-deep chuckle. “Remind me not to throw anything at you,” he said. “But as long as you’re going to be around tomorrow, I’ll plan to have a look at your stallions. Those boys tend to be unpredictable, and I’d just as soon not have any sur—”

He broke off, suddenly tense. The mares were stirring, snorting their wariness, calling their foals closer.

“What is it?” Erin asked.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Along the back fence line, beyond the horses. That moving shadow. Do you see it?”

Erin peered across the paddock, into the darkness beyond the reach of the security light. She shook her head. “I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a coyote, or just the breeze blowing some brush.”

“No. I only caught a glimpse of it, but it moved like a man. And listen to the horses. Something’s spooking them. Stay here. I’m going to check it out.” Keeping low, he slipped between the fence rails.

“But you don’t even have a gun,” Erin whispered. “You can’t just—”

“Stay here and be quiet. If you hear a ruckus, go for help.” Without another word, he vanished into the shadows.

* * *

Keeping to the darkness, Luke moved along the fence toward the far side of the paddock. The tall, shadowy figure he’d glimpsed could almost have been a trick of light and shadow, or a product of his imagination. But the wariness of the mares had told him otherwise. Somebody was out there. And he’d bet good money that whoever it was, they were up to no good.

Too bad he hadn’t brought the .38 he kept under the seat of his truck, Luke reflected. If the intruder had a weapon, Luke would be at a disadvantage. As it was, the best he could hope for would be to get a look at him, or at least scare the bastard off.

A stand of mesquite grew shoulder high near the back corner of the paddock. Using it as a screen, Luke scanned the length of the stout barbed wire fence that separated the grassy pasture from the brushy foothills that rose to the west. Clumps of sage, chamisa, and mesquite grew outside the fence, offering plenty of cover. Only when the strange figure moved did Luke catch a glimpse of long, bony limbs and straight, black hair. As he moved closer for a better look, a flock of quail, bedded in the mesquite, exploded almost under his feet. The burst of calling, fluttering birds sent the alarmed intruder sprinting off to vanish into the darkness.

Swearing, Luke straightened to his full height. There was no way he could catch up with the strange figure. For now, there was nothing to do but go back to where he’d left Erin.

There was no need to be stealthy now. He fished a small LED flashlight out of his pocket and switched it on to illuminate his path over the bumpy ground. He was halfway across the paddock when he saw Erin coming to meet him. “I told you to stay put,” he said.

“No need for that now, is there? Do you always carry a flashlight?”

“Only when there’s a chance I might run into Henry.”

She laughed—not a tinkly, little girl laugh, but a full-bodied woman’s laugh that surprised Luke with its innocent sensuality. He forced himself to focus on the danger that lurked in the darkness beyond the paddock.