Читать книгу Crossing Nevada - Jeannie Watt - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

“HEY, DAD?”

Zach looked up from the PVC pipe he was measuring. Darcy and Emma stood in the doorway of the shop. “Yeah?”

“Lizzie’s bike got a goat head in the tire on the way home today.”

Well, that explained why they were late. “Where’s the bike?”

“The front yard.”

“Where’s Lizzie?”

“Riding my bike. Her feet can barely touch the pedals.”

Zach set down the pipe, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked toward the door. “I don’t think I have another repair patch.” Goat heads were the round seedpod of a ground covering weed, hard as nails with a couple nasty tire-puncturing prongs sticking out. They were hell on bike tires.

“Maybe Tia can bring one home from town.”

“You can text her,” Zach said. Emma immediately headed off to the house. “But she may not get done with her class before the store closes,” Zach called after her.

“Wal-Mart doesn’t close,” Darcy said.

Zach kept forgetting that. “Well, once upon a time stores did close,” he said.

Darcy cocked her head. “And you remember those days? Man, Dad. You’re old.” Zach grinned as they walked toward the lawn where Lizzie’s bike lay on its side.

“Yeah, and I feel it every year.”

“Is that a gray hair there?” she asked.

“You should know,” Zach replied. “You probably put it there.”

“So how’d the pasture thing work out?” Darcy asked casually, hooking her thumbs in her front jeans pockets.

“What pasture thing?” Zach asked slowly.

“You know...the pasture across the road. The one the lady wouldn’t let you rent.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Tia was talking to Mrs. Bishop about it.”

“Did Beth Ann or Mrs. Bishop know you were there?”

Darcy shook her head. “If they know I’m there, then I don’t hear any good stuff.”

Lizzie came wobbling around the corner of the house before he could answer, perched on Darcy’s bike, the tips of her toes barely reaching the pedals. Benny the collie bounded alongside her.

“Don’t wave,” Zach said as her little hand lifted a few inches off the handlebar. She immediately clamped it back down as the bike wobbled dangerously. Both he and Darcy took a quick step forward, but Lizzie regained control and pedaled on, Benny right behind her. Zach hoped they had some Band-Aids on hand.

“She thinks she’s so cool now that she’s in the first grade,” Darcy said.

“Yeah. I don’t know anyone else who ever felt that way.”

“Come on, Dad. I was a serious student. Lizzie is all about having a good time.” Darcy’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses as she glanced sideways at her father. He shook his head and then picked up Lizzie’s bike from where it lay in the grass and tipped it upside down so he could take off the tire.

“I think this is beyond a patch kit,” Zach said. “We’ll have to get another tube.”

“Should I text Tia again?” Emma asked, having just stepped out onto the porch.

“No. I’ll get one when I go to town tomorrow.” He wasn’t going to have Beth Ann chasing all over Wesley looking for inner tubes when she no doubt had class work to do when she got home.

“But—” Emma started, only to be interrupted by her older sister.

“We can walk home,” Darcy said.

* * *

TESS FELL ASLEEP in the chair watching television, the sound turned down so low she practically had to read lips to understand the action. She hadn’t counted on sleeping at all—at least not until daybreak, which was the usual time she fell asleep. But despite the cowboy’s visit, despite the shower scare, she conked out sometime in the early-morning hours, only to be startled awake sometime after sunrise by the dogs scrambling to their feet and racing for the back door.

Tess tumbled out of the chair, tripping over the fleece blanket she’d been nestled under and going down hard on her knees. And then, during a brief lull in the canine uproar in the kitchen, she heard the girls’ voices.

This was ridiculous. There was no reason for those kids to cut across her property. It was, after all, hers.

She started for the back door, then stopped when she saw how far away the three girls were. She’d have to run after them if she wanted to warn them off and that smacked of crazy. She wanted to keep them off her property, not scare the daylights out of them...although that probably would keep them off her property. Something to consider.

She gripped the door frame and watched as they disappeared around a thicket of willows growing along the creek. No. She’d wait until they passed by again. From the time frame, it seemed logical that they were traveling to and from school. Yesterday they’d showed up around three. She’d make certain she wasn’t in the shower at that time and if they passed by again, well, the four of them would have a chat about the meaning of private property.

* * *

ZACH LEFT THE hospital clutching a sheaf of papers. No, the accounts manager would not decrease his payment amount temporarily—even if cow prices were down. They suggested he take out a loan. Well, that was a fine idea, except that he refused to put his land, the one thing he would be able to give the girls, up for collateral.

That had been a rough enough pill to swallow, but then, on the way out of the expensive new hospital addition that he was helping to pay for, Marcela James, the hospital administrator, had collared him. He thought for one brief happy moment that perhaps she’d heard about his visit to the accounting office and was there to offer a reprieve, but no. Instead she cheerfully told him that if he wanted to sell that forty-acre parcel her husband had once approached him about, they’d still be happy to buy it.

Zach had smiled and nodded while thinking, “When hell freezes over.”

Leave it to the Jameses to hit a guy when he was down. Zach was not parceling up his ranch. Not until he got backed into a tighter corner than he was in now—although the way things were going, that might be tomorrow.

He pressed his fist against his sternum, trying to ease the dull stress-induced ache. All he needed was to keel over from a heart attack. That’d help the girls a whole bunch.

Zach unlocked the truck, then pulled the list out of his jeans pocket and gave it a shake to straighten it out. Bike tire was at the top. Beneath that purple dye. Even though Beth Ann insisted that Lizzie was spoiled, and Zach did not disagree, Beth Ann had agreed to try to dye the coat. Lizzie understood that she might end up with a muddy gray mess, but she was willing to take the chance. Someday Zach would have a heart-to-heart and find out why his youngest daughter hated red.

* * *

BEFORE MOVING TO the boonies, Tess had had no inkling that the simple act of sanding wood, of doing something with her hands other than sketching, could be such a sanity saver. Usually the steady rhythm soothed her, but today she sanded for less than an hour before she decided to give it up for the day and investigate possible at-home careers. The non-scam kind.

It’d been a project she’d been putting off because she was afraid of reality—as in, there probably wasn’t anything she could do to make a living at home. Oh, there were jobs. Medical transcriptionist. Technical writer. Data entry. Phone surveyor. But nothing jumped out at her, mainly because she had no formal training beyond a high school diploma and an impressive modeling portfolio. She wasn’t qualified for a hell of a lot, except perhaps phone surveyor.

You have time to figure this out...

But how much time? Especially if she had to train for something. She still had nearly a hundred grand in her LLC account after buying the ranch; however, simple math indicated that if she spent only the bare minimum, she could last maybe eight years. And that was if she didn’t buy a newer car, had no increase in costs and was stingy with the electricity. Not exactly the way she wanted to live.

Ironically she’d given some thought to investigating second careers a few months ago. Almost ten years had passed since she’d been signed by the Dresden Modeling Agency, a near miracle which she credited to her unusual celadon-green eyes and the cheekbones she’d inherited from her Irish grandmother. Models didn’t necessarily have to disappear in their late twenties anymore, but some of Tess’s longtime associates had started losing work and she was not one to ignore warning signs. And then, amazingly, she’d made the short list for the Face of Savoy Cosmetics campaign and all thoughts of investigating a second career were put on hold while she waited for an answer.

Her face had been slashed before she heard.

Tess rubbed her hand over her cheek, testing to see if it still ached as much as it had yesterday. Yes. The torn muscles were slow to heal, though the stitches had probably dissolved long ago.

Her face would eventually heal, but she would never be able to make money as she had only a few months ago. Eddie had taken that away from her.

Tess tried hard not to think about that, mainly because she was afraid that if she stopped feeling numb about her career, if she let herself think about how much she’d lost, she wouldn’t be able to move past the bitterness.

She turned off the computer monitor, having had enough depression for one day, then jumped a mile when Mac let out a loud bark. Blossom instantly joined in and once again they raced to the back door.

Right on schedule.

Tess walked into the kitchen just in time to see the three girls traipsing along the path by the barn, one tall and dark-haired with glasses, one just a few inches shorter with long brown braids and the last a small little thing with a short blond pixie cut.

“Stay,” Tess said sharply, not being able to recall the Dutch command. But the dogs obediently held as she opened the back door and slipped outside. She’d debated about covering her injury then decided what the hell? People were eventually going to see it. Covering it only seemed to draw more attention.

“Hey,” she called after the girls. They instantly stopped, whirling around with surprised looks on their faces.

Tess marched through the tall grass toward them. The littlest girl, who had a red coat bundled under her arm even though it was quite chilly, took a small step backward, her eyes fixed on Tess’s scars.

“This is private property,” Tess said. “You can’t just cross it any time you please.”

Three pairs of eyes widened then the ones behind the glasses narrowed again. “We’ve always used this path to go to school,” the oldest girl said with a touch of indignation.

“For years,” the middle girl added, nervously flipping one of her braids over her shoulder.

“Because that property owner didn’t care,” Tess explained matter-of-factly. “But I do.”

“Why?” the oldest girl asked.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Tess snapped. She hadn’t expected to get an argument. She’d expected to lay down the law and have the girls comply. “If you persist in using the trail, I’m going to call the police.”

“Sheriff,” the older girl said dryly, negating the effect Tess was aiming at.

“Whatever,” Tess said. “I will contact the authorities.”

The littlest girl continued to stare at Tess’s face. No, she was more than staring. She was doing an in-depth study, tilting her head and wrinkling her forehead, and it made Tess feel ridiculously uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “Of course, I don’t want to do that, so please, take the road from now on.”

“But—” the girl with the braids started to say before the tall girl touched her shoulder. She instantly closed her mouth.

“Is this property posted?” glasses girl asked.

Tess raised her eyebrows at the unexpected question. “Excuse me?”

The girl tilted her chin up. “Posted. If you don’t have No Trespassing signs, then technically you can’t accuse us of trespassing.”

“I most certainly can.”

The girl shook her head. “No. You can’t. Look it up.”

Tess let out a breath, thinking she was so not prepared to do battle with a know-it-all preadolescent when the youngest girl asked in a hushed voice, “What happened to your face?”

“I got caught trespassing.” Tess grated the words out. “And trust me...you wouldn’t want this to happen to you.”

The little girl gasped, her eyes growing wide as she backed up until she was plastered against the older girl, who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The little girl’s lower lip quivered, her eyes still fixed on the scars, and Tess felt bad for all of a split second. “If I were you,” she said coolly, “I’d take the long way home from now on.”

And then, since she’d made her point and didn’t want to risk crossing verbal swords with the oldest girl again, turned on her heel and stalked through the tall grass back to her house.

* * *

ZACH PULLED TO a stop next to the shop feeling more exhausted than if he’d spent the day digging fence posts by hand. He hated going to town, and dealing with the hospital made it worse.

He was halfway to the house when the door opened and Emma and Darcy raced out.

“What happened?” he automatically asked. Neither of them had any visible injuries, but Lizzie wasn’t there.

“We didn’t know we were trespassing,” Darcy announced from the top step.

“What?”

“Honest, Dad.” Emma jumped from the top step to the sidewalk just as he got there. “We thought that anyone could take the shortcut to school. We used to take it all the time.”

“Slow down and start from the beginning,” Zach said, not liking the sound of this one bit.

Emma and Darcy exchanged glances and for once it was Emma who did the talking. “Tia had to leave early this morning.” Translation: his daughters were late so she left without them. “We had to walk because of Lizzie’s bike, so we took the trail along the creek to school this morning. On the way home that...lady...who lives there came out and yelled at us. She almost made me cry.”

“More than that,” Darcy said in a low voice, with a quick glance over her shoulder at the front door, “she scared poor Lizzie to death.”