Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY) (19 page)

The ranger smiled. “You’re right, Sheriff, I was out of line. I just needed to know fast what kind of boss we were dealing with. Most of the time when something like this happens, it’s one of the hands trying to get a dig in at his boss.” Salem looked at Cord with his men standing firm behind him. “I got my answer. To the man, they stand with him. So I’ll tell you what I know.”

The tension in Cord’s shoulders relaxed and the men gathered around to listen.

“First, we’re dealing with someone from the outside who knows the ranch. He’s walked this land at least once before today. He knew what time the men arrived and that there would be time to drive in, poison the horses, and leave before anyone passed down the road again. My guess is, he waited somewhere along the road to town for Nevada to pass, then counted the cars of cowhands coming to work. Only somehow he missed Jackson.”

“That’s because I usually ride in with my brothers, but when I wasn’t ready, they left me.”

Ranger Salem took notes, then added, “The man we’re looking for also knew the barn was locked and brought a key along. I saw no sign of forced entry. My guess is if we check we’ll find one of the three keys missing.”

“I got mine right here,” Galem offered, now willing to help the ranger, since he appeared to finally be making sense. “Nevada keeps hers on her keychain. That only leaves the little trainer’s key.”

The ranger nodded his approval of Galem’s logic. “Third, I found a few prints of a man’s size shoe among all the bootprints. One in the soft dirt by the door and another near the first stall. Whoever poisoned the mare wasn’t wearing boots.”

Everyone began offering possibilities. No one had ever seen the trainer, Joey Mason, in anything but the polished riding boots he must have worn during his days as a jockey.

Cord’s phone sounded, and everyone paused.

“It’s my wife,” he said as he looked at the ID. “I have—”

Before he could finish, all the ranch hands chimed in with what he always said, “to take this call.”

Cord would have sworn he was too old to blush, but he stepped a few feet away and didn’t bother lowering his voice when he said hello.

No one made any pretense of not trying to listen. When he said, “That’s good news. Starlight is out of danger.” The men were cheering and only the ranger heard Cord add, “Come on home, Babe. I’ll be at the barn.”

Fifteen minutes later, when one of the vet’s assistants dropped her off and Nevada ran into Cord’s arms, no one on the ranch doubted how dearly he cared for her. He lifted her off the ground into a hug.

Salem stayed around to ask her questions, but he was polite, calling her Mrs. McDowell and thanking her for her time.

Cord walked the ranger to his car. “What was between us was between us. It has nothing to do with the ranch or my wife.”

The ranger nodded. “We’ll talk maybe, if you agree, but right now you’ll have my best effort to help find this guy.”

“Thanks,” Cord managed. “And when this is over I’ll meet you for coffee one morning at the diner.” Cord was making it plain that whatever happened between them would be aboveboard and in daylight. There’d be no two versions of the story this time.

He noticed the long, thin scar just above the ranger’s eyes as Travis offered his hand. “Fair enough.”

As he drove away Cord knew they’d never be friends, not in this lifetime, but hatred no longer festered between them.

He walked back into the barn as men left. Nevada was moving among her horses, touching each as if reassuring them.

Galem was the last to leave. He’d made it to the door when Cord yelled, “Mind asking Ora Mae to bring my supper out here? I’ve decided I’m sleeping in the barn tonight.”

Galem nodded. “I’ll drive her out. She goes nuts on that four-wheeler. I don’t trust her more than ten feet in that thing. How about you, Little Miss? You want me to give you a lift to the house?”

“No, if Cord’s sleeping here, so am I.” She smiled at Cord, as if knowing he was doing this just for her.

Galem walked away mumbling something that sounded like,
Why am I not surprised?
’

An hour later they’d eaten dinner on paper plates and were sitting in the loft opening watching the sunset. Nevada had been so quiet, Cord began to worry. He wanted to pull her close, but he guessed she needed time to let her nerves settle.

“You still mad at me for moving the horse?”

“No.”

He decided she wasn’t going to say anything, but then she whispered, “If you found out I did something to hurt you, would you hate me?”

“I didn’t move the horse to hurt you, Babe.”

“I know. I was just thinking. Cord, if I hurt you, would you forgive me if I asked you to?”

He thought about it a minute and pulled her against his side to whisper, “I don’t know what you’ve got on your mind, but I’ve already forgiven you. No matter what. You can stop worrying about it right now.” He’d done a few things he wasn’t proud of. He’d ended up in prison, and not once had she held his past against him. “If you’re thinking the pounding you gave me hurt, forget about it. Seeing you in pain was far more torture.”

“I wasn’t thinking of that,” she said, “but now you mention it, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Give me a little time, Cord, I’ve never learned to rein in emotion.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know, Babe, that’s why I’m looking forward to rolling in the hay with you tonight.”

She pulled away. “We’re not having sex in front of my horses.”

“I’ll blindfold them all if you like.” He laughed. “But, Babe, we are having that roll in the hay.”

R
ONNY
KNELT
BESIDE
M
ARTY
’
S
BED
,
WISHING
SHE
COULD
talk God into trading her life for Marty’s. He was so smart. He had so much to offer the world and she had nothing. No one would miss a postal clerk, but everyone who met him thought he was brilliant. Even ill, he’d helped Beau handle his finances and begin savings. Marty had given Cord advice about making a better profit at the Boxed B. He’d changed her life—no, he’d started her life, because the years before him all ran together into dull days of just existing.

She curled back in her chair and began to think of the little things she used to do at the post office to help pass the time. She’d sign up folks who never got mail for free gifts and secretly help people out when they didn’t pay the right postage or forgot to forward their mail. When she’d mailed Cord the Harmony paper, she guessed he would enjoy it, but he’d told her it kept him sane some days.

As she turned through the people in her mind, an average-looking man in his forties who sometimes came in to ask about his mail crossed her thoughts. One magazine about the ins and outs of Hollywood wouldn’t fit in his box. She’d always leave a note and he’d ask for it, not by his name, but by the box number.

She thought it was strange that he took that magazine until one day the postmaster told her he worked at the old movie theater down on Main. “The waitress over at the diner said he must love movies if he watched them all day. Said he told her he once worked on a film set.”

Ronny could almost see the name on the magazine, not Cam, but Cameron. He might be the man Cord was looking for.

She pulled out her phone and remembered the way she’d thought of his number as double bad luck, two sets of thirteens.

Foster Harrison, one of the nurses, came on duty just as she moved to the kitchen to talk to Cord. Foster gently touched her arm, silently telling her not to worry, Marty was sleeping easy tonight and he’d take the midnight watch while she slept.

Ronny thanked the kind nurse with a nod.

“Hello,” Cord snapped, as if he were in the middle of something important.

“I remembered someone,” she whispered.

“Ronny?” he lowered his voice. “Good.”

“There’s a man who runs the movie house. If it’s him, and I’m not saying it is, I might have an idea of where he lives. Years ago the Palace used to do live performances, and there were rooms behind the stage. You might find your Cam there.”

“Thanks.”

She hung up before he could ask about Marty and she had to try to think of something to say. Waving at Foster, she pulled on her jacket, thinking she’d take a walk before she went to bed. The day had been hard and endless.

Unlike a few nights ago, she stayed to the street, walking down the center and heading toward the old downtown area. Since the night she’d heard someone following her, she hadn’t felt safe, but she needed the exercise and there seemed to be no other time. So she kept to the pavement where she could see. Buffalo’s Bar would still be open, and the men would be hanging out at the fire station if she needed to run for help. This way wasn’t as quiet a walk, but it was safer.

When she turned down Main, she thought she saw movement half a block away. Someone else was on the streets tonight.

She rounded toward the fire station. If someone else was out walking, they were keeping to the shadows. The night didn’t feel right. Something or someone was out there watching her. A few times she’d passed Beau walking home from the bar, but even dressed in black, they’d both seen each other.

As she reached the firehouse, she glanced upstairs, where a few firemen usually slept. The windows were dark tonight, but the bright lights over the huge doors out front lit the street.

Ronny jogged across to the sheriff’s offices and relaxed when she saw Deputy Phil Gentry sitting outside on the steps talking on his cell phone. He waved and called, “Any problem, Ronny?”

“No, sir, just walking.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stood. “How about I walk a block with you? I’m on a break and this time of night it’s either eat or exercise. Some nights around town are so calm I think I’ll have to lock myself up to keep from going crazy.”

She was happy for the company. Phil had been around for as long as she could remember and liked to visit. Some folks said if he ever retired, the paper would have to double to keep everyone up on what was going on.

As they walked, he told her what had happened at the Boxed B that morning, and Ronny understood why Cord had looked so upset when he stopped by. He must have thought she had her own share of problems, so he hadn’t mentioned his.

Phil reached the bridge that crossed onto her street. “You can almost see your house from here. I think I’d better be getting back.” He handed her his flashlight. “Take this. You can bring it back to the station on your next walk.”

Ronny didn’t really need a flashlight, but she took it just because Phil always wanted to help. So she thanked him and shoved it into her pocket.

As she strolled the short block to her duplex, her mind was full of all that had to be done. Taking care of Marty was far harder than she thought it would be and she couldn’t forget, or leave out a single detail. His life depended on it.

A tear bubbled over and dripped down her cheek. If she did everything right he might live one more day, or maybe one more week. He’d already beaten the odds the doctors at the hospital had given him. But nothing she could do would change the fact that his body was shutting down, turning off like old Christmas lights left up until spring. One light burning out at a time until one day soon there would be no light left in the world.

She stepped to the side of the duplex so she could circle around to the back entrance. Ronny caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. More reaction than action, she ducked as someone reached toward her.

Instinct took over. She moved away from the house as she pulled the flashlight out of her pocket. The shadow moved again, reaching but not willing to step out of the blackness. She fumbled with the flashlight switch but couldn’t make it work. As she took a step backward, the uneven ground tripped her.

She fell, hitting the side of the ramp with her shoulder and crying out in pain.

Fighting the need to curl into a ball, she lifted the flashlight and threw it toward the shadow above her.

It hit the mark and Ronny heard a muttered oath. The back door rattled open. Foster clicked the porch light back and forth trying to make it come on. “Ronny,” he whispered, not wanting to wake Marty. “Ronny, is that you? Is something wrong?”

The shadow vanished in the dark behind the house. Bushes along the dry creek bed rustled as he ran.

“Ronny?” Foster tried again as he moved down the back ramp.

“I’m here,” she said, standing slowly. “Someone tried to attack me.”

Foster helped her into the house and insisted on checking her shoulder as she called the sheriff’s office.

Phil Gentry was at the back door before she finished talking to the dispatcher. While Foster wrapped her shoulder, the deputy asked the same questions the dispatcher had. “What happened? What did you see? Tell me everything that happened. Every detail, no matter how small.”

Ronny went slowly through every detail she could remember from the first movement to the sound of the weeds when he ran. Phil took notes and asked that no one go in or out the back door until sunup and he had a chance to look for evidence.

This wasn’t a chance happening. Someone knew she was out walking and waited for her in the darkness.

“Whoever did this has been watching you.” Phil finally stated the one fact he knew.

Ronny told him about having the feeling that she was being followed a few nights before.

“I’ll ask the sheriff to come out first thing,” the deputy said.

Since Mr. Carleon and the nurses always entered through the front door, Ronny knew there would be no problem. She’d muddied her hands when she’d tumbled, so there might be a chance they would find something out back.

After the deputy left, Ronny sat with Marty and tried to calm down while Foster cleaned up in the kitchen. The deputy had wanted to take her to the hospital to be checked, but she trusted Foster’s care and she couldn’t leave Marty. Not now.

When she’d fallen, her shoulder had been cut. A thin line now ran along her arm, and the place where she’d hit the ramp would leave a bad bruise, but no bones were broken. She’d been lucky.

A few hours before dawn Marty woke and asked about the bandage. Ronny told him every detail calmly.

“You shouldn’t have been out there,” he said, sounding more worried than angry.

“No,” she smiled. “He shouldn’t have been out there.”

“Right,” Marty agreed. “In another world I would have rushed out there and beat the guy to a pulp.”

“In another world Gentry wouldn’t have given me his flashlight and the attacker would have gotten in a few more blows. Then I’d be buried beside you.” The words were out before she could stop them. After no sleep, the filter on her thoughts no longer worked.

With effort, he took her hand. “In a perfect world we’d live long lives and then lie side by side in a garden of stone. Only we both know the world’s not perfect. I want you to live, Ronny, really live, and then someday when your hair is white and your bones are brittle, I want you to go to sleep beside me. I’ll be waiting.”

Ronny laid her cheek against his hand. “I love you so much. I never said it, but I felt it.”

“I know. I love you too. It doesn’t matter how much time we have. Tonight we have time, and I want to spend every waking minute talking to you. We’ll make up memories that will stay with us forever. You’ll have them here and I’ll have them in the next life to think about while I’m waiting for you.”

She cried softly as he began to talk of taking her down the Nile and getting lost in a rain forest. He talked as if they’d had their time and all he said were shared memories. “Remember when I had to kick you out of the sleeping bag so you’d make coffee, because you know I can’t make coffee that’s fit to drink on a campfire?”

Slowly she began to see what he was doing. Marty was weaving together his adventures to include her.

“Remember that time we got lost in the subways of New York? You wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo, and between us we couldn’t read the map on the subway car. I was never so glad to climb out of that hole and see daylight. Even the New York air smelled good.”

She smiled. “It wasn’t my fault; you said you could read the map. You’re the great adventurer who knows every continent.”

He laughed. “I can read a map. Well, usually I can. My favorite part that day was buying hot dogs in Central Park and ending up feeding the buns to the squirrels.”

“A few of those squirrels looked like huge rats.” She laughed, remembering that once he’d told her about the rats in Central Park.

“I like the times we went skiing in the Alps. Remember the Black Forest and how you wanted that stupid cuckoo clock, but I knew I’d have to make room in my backpack for it? After we lugged it around for days, it never did keep time.”

“We threw it away in Paris, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, in that little village we found when we were biking. Remember the one where no one spoke English and we had to get by on what little I learned in one semester of French back in high school?”

“Your French is terrible.”

“I know; I’ll work on it before we go again.”

“I hated the cold, but I loved the lodge.” She smiled, remembering a picture she’d seen of a farm in France. “Didn’t you say the place we stayed was three hundred years old?”

“Four, I think, and judging from the bed we slept in, the mattress was the same age.”

Ronny raised her head. “I can’t remember, Marty, did we make love there?”

“We did, great passionate love. The kind that left both of us mindless for a while. Your body was made for loving, Ronny. The best part of loving you is spooning with you afterward when you’re all warm against me, like we’re not two people but two parts of one.”

“Like salt and pepper shakers that fit together.”

He laughed. “The next time we travel let’s buy some of those funny sets. They’d look great on that shelf in the kitchen, and they’d be a lot easier to get home than that damn clock.”

She nodded, not telling him that she’d taken the shelf down to paint two years ago and forgotten to put it back.

He fell asleep telling her that when he woke they’d remember the time they took a train from Chicago to Albuquerque and made love in every empty private car along the way.

Ronny sat in the silence with the blinking machines surrounding her and realized she’d never gone more than a few hundred miles in her life, but she’d carry the memories of everything they’d talked about as if they were the only memories she possessed.

A little before dawn, she fell asleep thinking of the other adventures he’d tell her that they’d shared when he woke. She’d ask him to describe how they made love and if they ever fought. She’d ask him about the food they ate in the jungle and in Paris when they slept beside a bridge because he lost his wallet. That would be a fun memory to build.