Material Witness (34 page)

“I’m assuming the lady has some
business with you,” Wally said, eyeing Stoney with amusement.  “You know her
from the circuit?”

“Does she look like the kind that
hangs at a cowboy bar?”

“No, but I can’t figure how you’d
meet up with a girl like her otherwise.”

He tossed his father a wry grin. 
“Thanks a lot, Pop.”

 “She’s got some accent.  Sounds like
she’s from the East.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you’re wondering.  I can tell. 
You’ve got Buxton blood running too strong through your veins not to notice a
pretty thing like her.”

“And Mom’s no doubt pouring tea and
planning my wedding, right?”

Wally laughed hard.  “When was the
last time you brought a woman out to the ranch for your momma to meet?”

“Never.  And I’d like to keep it that
way.”  Stoney couldn’t help but laugh himself.  The kind of woman he’d met
during his time with the rodeo weren’t fit for meeting mother. 

Buckle bunnies.  That’s what some of
the other cowboys called them.  It was almost his due as a bull rider to have
the prettiest offerings, and he’d taken what was offered when the time seemed
right.  No promises.  No talks of commitment.  It was the way it was. 

It was the way he liked it.

Stoney watched as Wally stared out at
the horizon for a moment, looking at the line of fence that bordered the
property.  This was the ranch he’d grown up on and his father before him.  It
was small in comparison to some of the other ranches in the area, but it earned
them a good living, and it made them happy.  Working together, they’d worked on
expanding the ranch before the barn fire changed everything.  But all those
dreams died when the barn went up in flames.

“You going to tell me what her business
is here?” Wally finally asked.  “Or is she some well-kept secret?”

Stoney began hammering away at the
barbed wire against the stake.  “She wants a trail guide through the Wind River
Mountains.  I told her to go to the reservation.”

There was a silence made unbearable
by the sun beating down on him, showing no mercy.  And Stoney knew what his
father was wondering.  How on earth had she landed here? 

Stoney answered his unspoken
question, finding it hard to look his father in the eye.  “Gerald Hammond sent
her.”

There was another strained silence. 
Wally cleared his throat.  “That was kind of him to be thinking of us.”

“I guess.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I don’t have time for this.  I’ve
got too much work and with Mitch gone and...”  Stoney blew out a frustrated
breath and hammered with more force than necessary. 

“Hammond must have thought it would
be worth your while if he went out of his way to send the girl here.”

Stoney stilled.  He knew exactly what
was on his father’s mind.  Medical bills left in the wake of Wally’s injuries
threatened to take hold.  Although the money Melanie was offering to pay for
his services would go a long way toward bailing out the ranch, it still wasn’t
enough.  Not nearly enough.  He’d weighed all their options, run the numbers
backwards and forwards until his head hurt, and none of it looked good.  Going
back to rodeo seemed liked the answer to his prayers.  A step in the right
direction anyway. 

The cowboy’s Christmas is what they
called it on the rodeo circuit.  The biggest rodeos and the best purses were up
for grabs for the best of the best during the month of July.  Stoney would be
up against the best bull riders the circuit had ever seen.  Up until a year
ago, he’d been considered one of the best.  He was banking on that still being
true.

“This last year was worse than we’ve
seen in a long time for the ranch.  Taxes are higher.  Medical bills are out of
control.  We’re running out of choices, son,” Wally said, still looking out at
nothing in the horizon.

Stoney felt his chest tighten.  This
ranch had Buxton blood and sweat all over it.  He didn’t want to think about
what would happen if they lost is all.  “I know, Pop.  That’s why I’m going
back to rodeo.  I made some good money before, and it’s helped the ranch.  There’s
no reason-”

“You know how your momma feels about
you riding rodeo again.  One cripple on this ranch is enough.”

Fire spit through Stoney.  He
straightened his spine and towered over his father in the wheelchair.  Before
the accident, they use to meet eye to eye.  “You’re not a cripple, Pop,” Stoney
said, softer than the fire in him would have allowed if he hadn’t taken control
of it.  Despite his obvious position over his father, Stoney felt like a little
kid defending his hero.  And his father had been--still was--his hero for all
of his twenty-eight years.  Being confined to a wheelchair had wounded his
father’s heart, but not his spirit.  Wally Buxton still had the power of an ox.

They stared at each other for a long
while, not needing words to hear their thoughts.  That’s the way it had been
with them for as long as Stoney could remember.  Wally was the one to break
through the silence.  “Come on.  Your momma made some cherry pie and I’m sure
Ms. Summers isn’t going to touch it, so we might as well have at it.”

He didn’t have time for another break
today.  He’d already wasted too much time warding off Melanie Summers and her
wild ideas.  His work load had doubled since Mitch Broader, their only ranch
hand, left to take care of family business back east.  With his father out of
commission, that left the brunt of the ranch’s workload on Stoney’s shoulders. 

He blew out a resigned breath,
knowing it was important to his father.  “Sure, Pop.”

He walked alongside the motorized
wheelchair.  He was getting accustomed to slowing his wide strides to keep in
step with his father as the chair moved against the gravel.  He stayed at his
father’s side out of respect the man deserved.  His father rolled into the
house before him. 

He found Melanie sitting at the dining
room table, one long leg draped over the other, a smile that seemed curiously
triumphant written on her face.  His mother wore an uplifted expression he
hadn’t seen in her for the better part of a year. 

What the hell was going on?

Adele pushed the dining room chair
aside so Wally could position his wheelchair at the head of the oak table. 
“Melanie and I were just having a lovely chat about her plans while she’s in
Wyoming.”

Stoney eyed Melanie, a nagging
suspicion floating up his spine.  “Oh?  And what would they be?”

Melanie averted her gaze for just a
moment before lifting her soft brown eyes to him, shining a Cheshire cat grin,
and giving fuel to that eerie feeling taking hold of his gut.  One bat of her
dark eyelashes and he knew he’d been had.

* * *

“Didn’t you hear a damn thing I told
you by the corral?” Stoney said, storming out the door after Melanie.  He’d
held his anger in place long enough to make it out the screened door, slamming
it in his wake.  “You’ve got no business coming here, filling my family full of
dreams that aren’t going to come true.”

Melanie spun on her boot heels,
propped her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, and looked at Stoney over the
wire rim.  “I have every intention of fulfilling my end of the bargain.”

“No one in their right mind would
throw around that kind of money.  My family has been through enough to-”

“Which is why I think this business
arrangement will work out well for both of us.”

“Now how do you figure on that? 
Who’s gonna do all the work around here for the next month while I’m out there
traipsing through the wilderness, keeping your pretty little hide alive.  In
case you hadn’t noticed, we’re a little short of hand right now.”

“With the money I’m prepared to pay,
you’ll be able to hire someone to take your place.  As for keeping me alive, I
don’t want any special treatment.  I can hold my own.”

Stoney sputtered.  “That one is still
open for debate.  Do you even know what it costs to hire a ranch hand to work
sun up to sun down for a whole month?”

“Fifteen thousand dollars is not all
that much for what I’m asking,” she said.  It was much higher than she’d
originally intended on paying, but a lot lower than she’d consider if Stoney
could do for her what Gerald Hammond said he could.

Stoney’s face hardened.  “Money like
that may be nothing to you, but it keeps bread on the table for working folks.”

“I didn’t mean to imply-”

“I know what you meant to do.  You
think you can buy me like a piece of stock at a cattle auction.  I’m not for
sale.  And I’d appreciate kindly if you’d leave my family out of whatever death
wish you have.”

She stifled a retort about the death
wish and kept to the pressing issue. I can’t do that.  This is much too
important to me.”  He shook his head and stared at her like he was looking
right through her. 

She was struck by his strength once
again as he fought to keep his control in check.  The tight set of his jaw
belied his control and she got the feeling he could lift her without any effort
and toss her over the fence if she pushed him. 

And she’d push him, all right.  It
meant that much to her to prove to her father and herself that she could last a
whole month in the wilderness without the aid of medical intervention.  Only
then would her father agree to keep the funding for the Kenya project.  But she
knew her father.  He was determined to keep her from going at all cost.  And he
had a lot more money than she could combat with which to do it.

“Adele told me about the hard times
the ranch has had.  This money could help you and your family.  I’m glad to be
able to do that for them.  The only thing I ask is that no one knows we’ve
gone.”

“What’s this all about?  Why is this
so important?”

“My reasons are my business.”

He crossed his muscled arms across
the expanse of his chest and studied her for a moment.  “You wanted for
something?”

She giggled at the sidelong look of
suspicion he gave her.  Not only because of the absurdity of it, but because he
just looked too damned cute.  “You’ve got an imagination to go along with all
that muscle.  No, I’m not on the run for any crimes.”  Only from my father and
his control.  But that was none of Stoney Buxton’s business, and she was
determined to keep it quiet.

He eyed her, the tick in his jaw
twitching, telling her he didn’t find any of this amusing.

She coughed out the rest of her
laughter, knowing she wasn’t going to get very far irritating him.  He was a
business man.  She knew how to handle business men, although most of them wore
designer suits and smelled of expensive cologne, unlike the sweat and dirt she
smelled on Stoney.  Still, she turned on her best charm.  “Look, I don’t know
you.”

“True enough.”

“And I don’t know what kind of
struggles you and your family have gone through.  That’s really none of my
business.”

“Right.”

“But it doesn’t take much more than
20/20 vision to look around here and figure out you could use a little help.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped off
the porch stairs.  “I’m not looking for charity.”

“You need money,” she said to his
back.

Stoney swung around to face her
again, tossing her a cool look.  “And you’re just the person to open the check
book.”

She cocked her head.  “Don’t be
foolish.  This could help both of us.  You don’t look like the type of man to
shy away from honest money.”

He drew in a deep breath and could
hardly look her in the eye.  She knew he wouldn’t step anywhere near her
request if it held the stench of a handout.  Men like Stoney were as
complicated as the earth was old and the ground ran deep.  For him, it had to
be honest and earned.  Nothing less would do.

“I’m not looking for you to carry my
bags or draw the bath water,” she said when he didn’t respond.

His laugh was rich and hard and he
dipped his gaze beneath his dusty leather hat, shaking his head.  When he
lifted his head again, she saw them.  He had dimples.  Deep, and completely
adorable.  Her heart betrayed her confidence and fluttered wildly.

“Good, because you’d be sadly
disappointed.”

She forced air into her lungs and
placed her hand on her chest to steady her rampant heartbeat.  “I’ve checked
out the prices the other outfitters are charging for extended trailing.  It’s
only right that I pay a little more since I’m asking for a personal guide. 
This isn’t a handout, just a fair business arrangement.  I’m prepared to make
the same offer to one of the other outfitters, too.  That is if you’re stubborn
enough to decline.”

He took a long appraising look at
her, much like a man does when he finds a woman attractive, as if he was
weighing the option to pass her by or dip his head and kiss her waiting lips. 
It filled her with a strange sense of longing she couldn’t define.

“I may be stubborn, lady, but I’m far
from dumb.” 

Her eyes widened, almost afraid to believe
her good fortune.  “So what are you saying?  Will you help me?”