Читать книгу More Than a Cowboy - Susan Hornick - Страница 10

Six days later, Jared parked behind the Fellowship Booth and headed down the midway. The memory of Walt Jessup’s crumpled form at Mitch’s gravesite was too raw to revisit. He’d do anything to ease his stepfather’s pain. Focusing on the truth about Mitch’s accident was a welcome diversion. He’d reviewed the playback tapes and asked Sam McIntosh, the association president, for an investigation, hoping what he believed he’d seen on the tapes was wrong. He paused beside an empty booth and watched the milling people.

“Clarabelle,” he murmured to himself. The violet-eyed clown he’d spoken to the day Mitch died formed clearly in his mind. Clarabelle and Mitch’s Haley were one and the same. An odd feeling of disappointment punched his gut. “Who are you?” he whispered. “And why would Mitch leave you his winnings without telling his family anything about you?”

He shut out the loud music and joined the flow of people. He’d frozen the replay tape from the moment where it seemed Mitch had recognized Haley, then played the rest in slow motion, right up to the moment Mitch lay still in the dirt. The more he watched the replay, the more he felt the tangible connection between the bullfighter and his brother. It was as though for a split second, the screen had come alive.

Something wasn’t right. When he’d seen Haley near the bull pens, she’d spoken of facing fear. He’d seen her fear on the replay. Had her fear caused Mitch’s death? If so, he couldn’t let it go. Mitch deserved justice. Jared needed answers, and he was certain Haley had them.

He pictured her face again. His fingers and nose tingled as he remembered her soft skin beneath his steadying grasp and the fresh scent of the soap lingering on her flesh. He tensed, the memory surprising him.

The midway sparkled in the afternoon sun. Laughter and music filled the air. The sun half-hid behind a cluster of clouds, forming a halo of bright light with descending rays that seemed to touch the earth—almost as though the heavens rejoiced in catching Mitch’s spirit and carrying it up to God.

God, Mitch made his peace with You. Help me make peace with his death.

He waited for God’s peace to ease the pain. But nothing came. Only an emptiness left by Mitch’s passing and lots of unanswered questions. The arena speaker hummed, announcing the line-up for barrel competitions. He shifted direction and weaved through the crowd toward the horse corrals. The announcer’s voice echoed between the stands.

“Next up, in third place, a circuit favorite, Haley Clayton, on Spinner…”

Jared drew a sharp breath and edged along the fence toward the gate. A dun horse shot through the opening. The woman’s face passed in a blur. Horse and rider moved in unison, cleared the first barrel and raced toward the second.

Jared glanced at the clock as the pair formed a cloverleaf around the second barrel. The big gelding tightened the circle around the third, but the woman’s toe clipped the barrel edge, tipping it into the dirt. That mistake would knock her out of the big money. She ducked her head, leaned low across the horse’s back and raced for the gate.

Jared slipped around the steel panel into the paddock area. If Mitch’s death had affected her performance, it certainly hadn’t pricked her enough to attend his funeral or send condolences.

Haley dismounted and stood beside the fence, her slender shoulders stooped in disappointment while her fingers stroked the white star on the gelding’s forehead. A long braid hung down her back. The gold-fringe on her red shirt matched her hair. A narrow, silver-studded belt emphasized her small waist.

“Haley,” he said, stopping behind her.

She turned and tipped her hat back. A pair of vivid violet eyes rounded with recognition. Her left eyebrow lifted a fraction. A tremor touched her smooth lips. Her skin glowed with a beauty previously hidden behind clown makeup. A yellowing bruise discolored her cheek. Bangs partially concealed a flesh-colored bandage on her forehead. She half-turned and flipped the stirrup over the horse’s back, then loosened the latigo holding the cinch in place.

“We meet again,” he said.

A shadow passed over her face and quickly disappeared. “Are you following me?” she asked.

“No,” he said, moving toward the horse’s head. “I’m Jared Sinclair, Mitch Jessup’s brother.”

Her eyes flattened and went cold. Her fingers curled around the buckle like a lifeline. She stepped back, catching her spurs in the dirt. Jared reached for her elbow but she pulled away. “I’d like to talk to you about what happened the night Mitch died.”

She focused her gaze on his boots. “I’m sorry your brother died, but I don’t see how going over it will help you. It won’t change what happened.”

“Maybe not. But I still need to hear it from someone who was close to him.”

“We weren’t close.” Haley lifted her head, her beautiful eyes focusing on his chin. Wariness darkened them, turning them almost purple.

“I meant close by,” Jared said. Suspicion nudged his mind.

“Lots of people were there. Why don’t you talk to them?”

Mitch’s voice rang through Jared’s mind. Don’t let her go…forgive.

“I want to talk to you. Mitch asked me to find you,” Jared said. If Haley was responsible for Mitch’s death, there was no way he was going to just let her walk away from it like nothing had happened. “I’d like to know why,” he said.

Her face paled. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I think you do.”

She caught her breath, then shifted the reins back and forth in her hands.

Jared felt her fear, sensed deception at work, but if he wanted answers, truthful answers, he’d have to use softer tactics. “Please, Haley. I just need to know what happened to my brother.”

Doubt flickered across her face. She dropped her gaze. “I can tell you what I remember. Everything happened so fast, some details are jumbled,” she murmured.

She seemed to choose her words carefully. Jared moved to the horse’s side, forcing her to look right at him.

“Try. I want to know everything that happened between the time Mitch entered the arena and the time he was carried out. And I want to hear it from you.”

Her gaze shifted toward the exit. She buried her fingers in the gelding’s mane and combed through the thick hairs. For someone who had nothing to hide, she was acting guilty about something. Disappointment centered in Jared’s chest. The sights and sounds dimmed until it seemed the only ones occupying this space were he and Haley—and the mystery surrounding her and Mitch.

“There isn’t much to tell,” she said. “His ride was normal until the dismount. His hand got caught in the rigging. I pulled it free and we got knocked in the dirt. The impact shook us both.” She fidgeted, letting silence fall between them. Her voice caught, then lowered. “Resurrection got to him before I did.”

There was more in what she didn’t say, in the way her eyes refused to meet his, the way her voice trembled with something more than just sorrow or regret. Mitch deserved to be heard and Jared intended to see this through, no matter how painful it proved to be.

“You knew this bull,” he said. “You knew how dangerous he was. That’s why you were at the pens that day.”

She nodded. Her gaze swept the ground, then glazed as though her thoughts had taken a different direction. “I knew him. He’s dangerous.” She murmured so low he barely heard and was uncertain if she was referring to Mitch or the bull.

“You knew Mitch, too, didn’t you, Haley?”

Her head snapped up. “No.”

“You were with him at the hospital.”

“I was there anyway.” She touched the bandage on her forehead.

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?” he probed.

“I just couldn’t. Why should I?”

“Did he say anything to you?”

Haley flinched. Fear widened her eyes, touching him in a way that made him regret his harshness but heightened his need for the truth.

The question snaked between them like a whip and struck her. She remembered only too well Mitch’s last words. Words that still echoed in her head.

Forgive yourself.

How dare he tell her to forgive herself after what he’d done. She shook the memory loose.

“I think maybe he thought I was someone else.”

“He didn’t. He was very certain about your name and about wanting me to find you.” Jared’s brown eyes probed hers.

“I have to go,” she said. “If you’re looking to blame someone, I can’t help you. I did what I could and I’m truly sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry that he died or that your moment of fear may have caused his death?”

Jared’s square jaw clenched, giving his rugged face a determined, hard look. Haley’s stomach roiled. He was too close to the truth for comfort. If he found out about Sarah, what would happen then? Panic rose to her throat. He emitted the same power she’d sensed the first time she’d run into him outside the bull pens six days ago. How much like Mitch was Jared? Don’t make an enemy of this man, she cautioned herself.

She finished loosening the cinch, aware that he watched, gauged and absorbed every move. The sun dipped toward the distant mountains. Haley shivered in spite of the heat. She mustn’t give him cause to pursue his questions.

Jared’s glance sharpened. “How well did you know my brother, Haley?”

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to stare into his eyes. She would not cower before this man or any other. And she wouldn’t own Mitch’s sins. Heaven knew she had enough of her own to atone for.

“I told you I didn’t know him. We met briefly several years ago. I didn’t see him again until the night he rode Resurrection.”

“But you had met him before so why did you deny it? You told the nurse at the hospital you were family.”

“Meeting doesn’t constitute knowing. I was in that arena with him. Two years ago I was laying in the same spot that he was. I needed to know and the doctors wouldn’t tell me anything.” She shrugged.

“Then why not just say so?” Silence hung between them like dust in an arena.

Her heart dropped. Caught in the deception. She glanced at her watch and moved around Spinner. “I don’t know.

“I watched the replays.”

Her fist clenched in the animal’s mane. “Is there a point to all this? You weren’t in there. You don’t know. I have to go.”

Jared stepped aside. His hand, large and rough, touched her wrist. She shivered again.

“Don’t go far, Haley,” he said. “There’s more to this than what you’ve told me. I can find truth in the most unlikely places. You and I are not through.”

Haley tugged on Spinner’s reins and rushed from the paddock without looking back. Jared had her so confused she didn’t know which way was up. Behind the barns, she bent over, rested her hands on her knees, and gulped in waves of fresh air, but it didn’t stem the nausea rising to her throat. Spinner nuzzled her neck and nickered.

She led the horse into the barn. When she chanced a look behind her there was no sign of Jared, but she could still feel his power, the air of authority surrounding him, the tingle along her skin that remained long after she’d pulled away from him.

He’d thrown down an invisible gauntlet, and instinct told her he would stop at nothing to discover the truth.

The sun dropped behind the horizon, painting the sky a dark orange. Hap plugged the horse trailer lights into his truck and rechecked the hitch and safety chains, while Haley hooked the camper to her truck.

“Never known you to run from nothing,” he said.

Haley placed a finger to her lips and watched Sarah stuff a horse blanket into Hap’s truck cab. If she and Sarah could get safely back to Hap’s place, Jared would have a hard time finding them.

“There’s no reason to stay when there’s work waiting at home.”

“It’s not fair,” Sarah said, sticking her lips out. “Why don’t you go? Hap and I can come later. After the finals. We never miss the finals.”

“We’ll go together,” Haley said.

Sarah’s eyes watered in frustration. “Can I go and at least say goodbye to my friends?”

Haley’s heart thudded like a trapped rabbit. “Go. But stay in sight of the truck. I don’t want to have to come looking for you. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Hap’s silent disapproval cut into the evening air louder than the music coming from the midway. She never should have told him everything.

“Runnin’ stinks, don’t it?” he said.

Haley moved toward her own truck, which seemed to groan beneath the weight of the camper. “I’m protecting Sarah.”

“He’s her family, too.”

“How do I know he’s any different than Mitch?”

“You don’t.”

Haley locked the camper door and leaned her head against the cool metal. “Don’t, Hap. Don’t take his side. What if he finds out about Sarah?”

Hap patted her arm, then squeezed her shoulder.

“Sarah’s mine. She can’t know where she came from. She’s too young.” Haley turned and leaned against him.

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, girl. You can’t run from this.”

Haley’s eyes misted. “Sarah doesn’t need any family but you and me.”

“Maybe God thinks otherwise.”

“Don’t,” she said.

Hap’s rough hand stroked her hair. “Ain’t you forgettin’? Sarah’s God’s child. There’s a reason He placed her with you—a reason He allowed her to come into this world the way she did. And there’s a reason this man is here now.”

Haley spun around, grabbed the camper jack and rammed it into the truck bed. “Well, I wish God would enlighten me.”

“Maybe you ain’t listenin’. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said.

Haley jammed her hat onto her head. “I suppose you’re going to tell me too that God had a reason for Mitch being here and a reason that I…played a part in killing him.” She brushed away a tear.

“You didn’t kill nobody.”

“If it had been any other cowboy…”

“What’s written is written, honey. And God holds the pen that does the writin’.”

She kicked a rock and sent it flying across the parking lot. “I don’t want him poking around.”

Hap stroked his chin. “Secrets won’t stay hidden forever.”

Haley caught Sarah’s glance, the rebellious look still in her eyes.

Hap motioned Sarah to wait. “Face the man now. Don’t wait for him to come to you.”

“Tell him what his brother was and seal our fate? Not a chance.”

Hap raked a hand through his silver hair and sighed. “Stay and finish this. I’ll take Sarah home with me and you won’t need to mention her at all.”

Haley rubbed her arms, feeling a chill in the warm air.

“You need to make him see that you are sorry the boy died.” Hap pinned her with his gaze. “You are sorry, aren’t you?”

“You know I am.”

“He needs to that.” Hap tipped his hat back.

“I do feel responsible, Hap. Responsible and…relieved. It was an accident, but with Mitch gone, I thought that now it was finally over. I could put an end to all those bad dreams. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re human and that you can’t do this alone.” Hap scuffed his toe in the dust. “Haley, you gotta let God help with this.”

Haley glanced at Sarah and swallowed the knot in her throat. Hap could very well be right. But trusting didn’t come easy. Especially where God was concerned. She wasn’t sure it ever would. “I can’t. But I will stay. I’ll finish this.”

Hap gave a satisfied nod and loaded the horses in his trailer. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the barn,” he said.

The memory of Jared’s dark eyes filled her mind, how their warmth the day he’d bumped in to her outside the Fellowship tent had both touched and frightened her, how they’d gleamed like hard shards of rock when he’d questioned her about the accident and knowing Mitch.

She’d backed herself into a corner, and he knew it. If he pushed her too far, he wouldn’t like what she had to say. She rechecked the hitch and chains on the camper and fished in her pocket for the keys. Footsteps crunched the gravel behind her.

“I’m almost ready, Hap.”

She turned around and stared straight into Jared’s flashing dark eyes.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

She searched frantically for Hap, then saw Sarah wave to her friends and skip toward her.