Ransom Canyon (16 page)

Spreading out next to him, Lucas hoped whoever was out there couldn’t see them for the weeds and tall grass. He waited, knowing that as soon as it was safe he’d be able to carry Kirkland to the truck, only right now he couldn’t seem to stop the tears dripping off his chin.

He went over what Staten had told him to do. If men move in silently, shoot at the ground in front of them. Lucas wasn’t sure he could shoot at a man, any man. He’d done target practice, but he’d never shot at a living thing.

The low sound of an engine came again through the silence.

Lucas raised the Colt and fired two more rounds.

The rattle of a truck seemed to turn right toward them. Maybe whoever was out there firing at them planned to run over them both, now that they were down. A hit-and-run right in the middle of a pasture. Or, maybe the men at the headquarters had heard the two shots.

As the truck light flashed toward him, Lucas raised the Colt and prepared to fire.

Just as he aimed between the headlights he heard shouts and two rounds of gunfire coming from the truck.

They were Kirkland’s men. He shook with relief. “They’re here, Mr. Kirkland. They’re here.”

Dropping the gun, Lucas sat up, waving them in with his free hand.

Within seconds the men were out of the truck and surrounding them. One flashed a light over Staten. Blood covered his chest now, as well as the front of Lucas’s shirt.

“Give me your shirt, Phil,” Jake Longbow ordered. “We’ll tie up his shoulder as best as we can.”

One of the cowhands ripped the buttons as he yanked off his shirt and dropped to help lift the boss while Jake tied a knot directly over where Lucas’s hand had been applying pressure.

“Let’s get them to the hospital!” Jake yelled. “Load them in the back of my pickup. A couple of you men crawl in with them to make sure they don’t fall out. I’ll be driving like I’m running from hell.”

Lucas tried to tell them that he wasn’t hurt, but no one seemed to hear. They were too busy asking questions and swearing and making threats to whoever did this.

Men pulled rifles and flashlights from Jake’s truck, planning to walk the mile-long pasture to make sure no one was on the property.

The smell of hay and leather surrounded Lucas as he sat in the back of Jake’s pickup, back to the cab. His heart was still pounding double-time when he watched the men lift Kirkland in beside him and brace the boss with horse blankets and saddles. Men sat at the four corners while Lucas knelt beside Kirkland. When he lifted Staten’s head and used his hat as a pillow, the boss came to.

His deep blue eyes were clear, even though his voice was barely more than a whisper. “Lucas, call Quinn,” he said. “Tell her I may be late.”

“You got it, boss,” Lucas answered. He guessed Kirkland was talking about Quinn O’Grady since she was the only Quinn he knew in town. He’d had no idea that she and Kirkland were even friends, but he’d follow orders.

Lucas fought down a smile. They were a hell of a lot more than friends if she was the one person Kirkland wanted him to call. He thought of asking if one of the men had a cell phone, but decided maybe he should make
this
call in private.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Quinn

Q
UINN
RAN
THROUGH
the hospital doors at full speed. A message had been left on her phone over an hour ago. Some kid saying Staten had been shot and was at the hospital in Lubbock. No details.

When she’d heard it, she had dropped her quilt and grabbed her keys. All the way to the hospital she’d thought of how mad she still was about what he’d said when he found out she was pregnant. How could he think that there would be another man in her life?

Only now, if he died, what did being angry with him matter? She still loved him, still wanted their baby. The thought of facing the years ahead without Staten in her life was too much to bear. She needed him. Wanted him to share the joy of a child with her.

The memory of the touch of his hand across her abdomen almost a week ago returned so strong she could still feel it. One caress he’d made when he thought she was asleep, that was all she needed to know. The last night they’d shared had been about them, whether it was a beginning or an end between them she wasn’t sure. But the caress had been about the baby. He wanted the child. That was a beginning. Staten Kirkland was a hard man who rarely showed any emotion, but he wanted the baby that grew inside her, and he wanted her.

Could she be happy with that? Was it enough to build her life around?

If Staten lived, Quinn made up her mind that she wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny him. He was an honest man who wouldn’t offer what he couldn’t give. Somehow they’d work it out. Together or apart they’d both raise the child.

“May I help you?” a man in a white coat whom she took to be an orderly asked when she passed her second set of swinging doors.

Quinn didn’t take time to look at his name tag. “I’m looking for Staten Kirkland.”

The man began shaking his head.

Quinn continued, “He was shot on his ranch earlier tonight. I think it’s been about two hours ago since his men brought him in.”

“Oh, the rancher. He’s in a private room on the third floor. Can’t miss it. The men who arrived with him are all still here.”

Without another word the orderly hurried off down the hallway while Quinn moved to the nearest set of elevators. When she stepped off on the third floor, she froze. Twenty men, most dressed in chaps, boots and spurs, circled the waiting room. None looked to be waiting patiently. Their shirts were dirty. A few looked bloody, and all seemed a bit lost. Their Western hats sat, crown up, along one wall of the open area.

They all stared at her as if she was a newly arrived alien. Quinn rarely left her farm, but she knew a few of the men. Marybeth’s oldest son—Quinn had decorated the venue for his parents’ anniversary party. One tall man who’d been the groom at an outdoor wedding where she’d dressed all the pews with lavender bouquets. A few were volunteer firemen. She’d seen them at the Fourth of July parade. And Jake Longbow, who’d welcomed her when she used to drive out to the Double K to pick up Amalah for their days out. He’d always hollered, “Where you ladies off to?” and they’d name some wild place like the beauty parlor and then ask him to come along.

Jake Longbow had aged since she’d last seen him at Amalah’s funeral. Twelve years had passed since she lost her best friend. A lot more than Jake Longbow’s face had changed over those years.

He gave her a sad smile. “Quinn?” he said slowly, as if not sure she’d know him.

“Yes, Jake. How is he?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “How is Staten?”

Jake answered straight out, then. No sugarcoating, no lies. “He’s in surgery right now. They’re taking a bullet out of his shoulder. That’s all we know. The emergency room nurse said once he’s cleared from the recovery room they’ll bring him up here, but since then nobody’s told us nothing.” Worry dripped from every word.

She nodded. “Is it all right if I wait with you?”

Jake put his bony arm around her and directed her to a row of chairs. “Sure, honey. You wait right next to me.”

If anyone thought it strange that a woman living on the opposite side of Crossroads on a lavender farm would be worried about the owner of a huge ranch miles away, they didn’t comment.

After a few minutes, a tall, thin kid of about seventeen sat down beside her. The blood on his shirt had dried, leaving Quinn to guess that it wasn’t his blood.

If the blood wasn’t his, then she knew without asking that it had to be Staten’s.

“I was with him when he was shot,” the boy whispered. “He asked me to call you and say he’d be late.”

She smiled. “I was about to start cooking spaghetti. I’d just moved inside when I noticed you’d called.” Even as she said the words she thought how crazy they sounded. Staten was in danger, and she was talking about her plans for dinner.

“I’m Lucas Reyes. I remembered you from a research paper Lauren Brigman did last year. Your farm looks like it should be in a magazine. It’s so beautiful in the spring.”

“Lauren’s a friend of yours?” Quinn was only half following the conversation. Her eyes never left the door to the right.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to her birthday party next week?”

The kid shook his head. “I have to be at freshman orientation that day here in Lubbock. You know, they’ll show all upcoming freshmen the campus and probably tell us all about college life. I doubt I’ll make it back to town in time for the party.”

“So, you’re going to Texas Tech.” She smiled. Everyone who grew up in Crossroads dreamed of getting away to school or a big city, but in truth most stayed and started families. They farmed, or ranched, or worked for one of the oil companies. Those who did break free often returned to retire. Funny how the very place you can’t wait to leave is, in the end, the only place you want to go back to.

Quinn tried to think of something to do besides storming the double doors and making a fool of herself. She wanted to ask Lucas what had happened, but she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear the details. If it was bad, and it must have been, she might start crying in front of all Staten’s men. She had a feeling he wouldn’t like that.

She’d wait. She’d ask Staten as soon as she saw him. As soon as he was out of surgery, as soon as the doors no longer barred her way.

Glancing at Lucas, she asked, “What are you getting Lauren for her birthday?” She had to think of something to say. The men around her were pacing, talking about working night shifts, talking about getting back to the ranch. They were no longer just cowhands. They were guards, soldiers in a war.

One man suggested they do what cattlemen did a hundred years ago during the Remington Blockade. One man, one rifle, one mile. If trouble rode your way, you fired, and all the others came running after they relayed the shot. It had stopped diseased cattle from climbing the caprock a hundred years ago and infecting West Texas ranches.

“I hadn’t thought about a present,” Lucas said, breaking into her dark thoughts. “I guess I should bring something if I do make it to the party. She’ll be sixteen, and for a girl that’s a big deal, or so my little sisters tell me. I turn eighteen three days after her birthday, and my folks are buying me a saddle. I’ll probably be working every break I get from college, so a good saddle will come in handy. Somehow I don’t think that’s something a girl would want.”

Quinn realized Lucas was doing exactly what she was, trying to keep his mind off what was happening beyond the double doors.

The elevator doors opened, and a mob of men in suits rushed out. Among them was a tall man, looking like an older version of Staten. Quinn recognized Samuel Kirkland, even though she hadn’t seen him since she’d been maid-of-honor at Amalah and Staten’s wedding. Staten’s father had made an appearance that day at the last minute as if the whole affair was about him. A senator from a small town is everyone’s friend. When he’d been working the crowd, the bride and groom had seemed nothing more than props. People had stood in the receiving line not to congratulate the young couple, but to shake hands with a senator.

Quinn remembered hearing that Samuel and his second wife stayed the night at the ranch so they could do a photo shoot the next morning. Staten once said that Samuel’s third wife looked just like the second so they wouldn’t have to redo the photos.

Quinn shook her head. Funny she should think of something so meaningless at a time like this. Thoughts kept drifting in her mind like snapshots in a mixed-up album. Staten had stood behind her for the class picture in the third grade. He’d helped her with her science project in middle school. When her parents died, he’d dropped everything and managed her farm until she could sort through all the paperwork. He’d always been there. She wasn’t just the friend of his wife. Quinn was his friend, too.

He’d talked to her about his dad liking to be
from
the area. When she’d mentioned it to Amalah, she’d said she’d never heard him talk about his dad much. But he’d talked to Quinn.

She knew that Staten still went to Dallas when his dad was back from Washington. But when Samuel came home to see Staten, his father snuck in and out and never stayed overnight at the ranch. His fourth wife said she didn’t like the bugs and the wind at the Double K. She claimed the smell of cows made her gag.

Somehow, over the years, Samuel Kirkland’s image had outgrown the man. Staten had once laughed and said his many stepmothers married a senator but had to sleep with his dad.

She watched Samuel Kirkland now, still playing to the small crowd of yes-men and reporters.

Jake Longbow rose and went to the senator, filling him in on what little he knew. The suits on either side of Staten’s father were all on their cell phones.

“You have a cell?” she asked Lucas. “Your parents might be worried.”

“Nope. I borrowed my cousin’s office phone to call you. She works down on the first floor.” He was silent for a minute before smiling. “I doubt my parents even noticed I wasn’t there for supper. My dad always figures if I’m working late at the Double K, someone will make sure I get a meal.”

Jake came back to Quinn, looking as if he’d been trying to communicate with a squirrel. “The senator is gettin’ ahold of the hospital administrator so he can find out what’s goin’ on. All he found out was that it’ll probably be another hour or more before we know anything.”

Quinn watched the room. Cowboys on one side, suits on the other. She knew it would just be a matter of time before someone asked her what she was doing there. The only woman in a room of headstrong men.

“Lucas, would you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” he answered. “Anything.”

“Come with me downstairs to get something to eat.”

The kid stood and offered his arm. “I’d be honored.”

With few people noticing, they slipped out the stairway door and walked down two flights of stairs to a small cafeteria. She bought a pizza with the works and French fries on the side. Then, when he hesitated, she ordered him the same and insisted on paying for his.

Half an hour later he laughed, claiming he’d never known such a slender woman could eat so much. “My mom never sits down for a meal. She just nibbles while she cooks, and chases kids, and cleans up. She’s round as a butterball. Maybe if I got her to sit down and eat she’d lose weight.”

Quinn smiled. “Does her weight matter to you?”

“Not a bit,” he answered. “She’s huggable size.”

The love for his family was obvious. Quinn liked the idea of raising a child who would love her like that.

There was something about the young man that set her at ease. Maybe because she guessed he was one of the shy people in a world of talkers, and she knew he was making a true effort to help her relax.

When they went back to the waiting room, nothing had changed. Still cowboys on one side pacing and suits on the other playing with their cell phones.

Jake limped over to tell them that Staten was doing fine in recovery but no other news. A nurse had let the senator go in for only a moment to see his son. The doctor was with the senator, probably filling him in on the surgery.

Quinn sat in the back by the windows. If she could have managed to be invisible, she would have been. She didn’t want to be just waiting, and she couldn’t leave.

When Samuel Kirkland walked out of the double doors, he looked shaken. Cameras flashed but his usual bright smile was gone.

All were silent.

He stood in the center of the room and cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming,” Samuel said as if they’d all just dropped by. “My son and I want to thank you for your concern and prayers. He’ll be out of recovery in a few minutes. Wants to see all his men, but I’m not sure he doesn’t need rest more.”

One of the cowhands faced Senator Kirkland, but it was the foreman who spoke. “We all understand how you feel, sir, and we’ll keep our visit short, but if Staten wants to see us, we’re going in.” He hesitated a moment before continuing, “We’ve got trouble at the Double K, and unless you’re planning to take over, we need to be getting our orders from him.”

All the cowboys nodded and reached for their hats. One by one the worn Stetsons and Resistols disappeared off the floor, and the low sound of spurs shifting circled through the room as the cowboys moved toward the double doors.

Quinn didn’t miss the shocked look on the suits’ faces. They were all yes-men who followed whatever the senator said. For a moment Quinn realized she was looking at two different kinds of men, and not one of them would trade sides if they had the chance.

“I would take over,” the senator announced, “only, now I know my son is going to be all right, I have urgent business to take care of in Washington. I’m sure he has plenty of help running the ranch. My place is helping to run the country.” He straightened to his picture-perfect posture for the cameras.

The cowboys weren’t listening; they were disappearing one by one behind the swinging doors.

Quinn looked at Lucas. “I don’t want to go in with the others, but I’m not staying here with that man. Could you come down to the cafeteria and get me when everyone’s gone?”

“Of course,” he answered. “Mr. Kirkland will want to see you. When he told me to call you, it was an order, not a request. I’m guessing he’d rather have seen your face when he woke up from surgery than his father’s.”