Season of Fear (8 page)

A few drops of rain had begun to drop from the dark clouds that had been hanging heavily overhead all day. Robin reached the jeep and hurriedly lifted her jean-clad legs into it. She thrust the key into the waiting ignition, silently berating herself for lingering so long in town, knowing that a storm was threatening. The engine sputtered a few times, then finally roared.

On the way to the ranch, Robin almost ran over a prairie dog. Her foot leapt to the brake pedal of the car. Her tense arms swerved the steering wheel to the right at the same instant. Her ears were filled with the sound of the jeep's wheels skidding uncontrollably on the gravel shoulder of the road. Relentlessly Robin bumped the brakes to no avail. The jeep was not slowing. She turned her attention to the steering wheel, sharply counteracting each spin to try to regain control of the vehicle. But it did no good. The jeep whizzed over the shoulder of the road and onto the rough terrain of the prairie. Robin found herself being jostled fiercely up and down, while she held tightly to the wheel.

Then everything seemed to happen at once. The sky seemed to open up; gallons of water poured from the angry gray clouds. A burst of lightning split the sky. In the startled second where she was caught off guard, the right front wheel of the jeep plunged into a waiting hole. The vehicle was thrown totally off balance, and Robin found herself being plummeted through the air to the wet ground below. She landed with a smack and lifted her aching head in time to see the runaway jeep finally conic to a stop—upside down with its wheels spinning freely in the air.

"I could have been killed!" she cried, wrapping her shaking arms around herself as she sat alone on the prairie. The tears were running in rivers down her cheeks, but the pouring rain washed them away. And overhead the sky shook with thunder, blazed with sporadic flashes of lightning, and the wind whipped coldly around her ears.

Her shoulders shook with sobs, the impact of the close scrape with death dawning horribly on her. She felt very alone.

But then another rumpling sound reached her desolate ears, the sound of an approaching engine. She attempted to stand, and began to make her wobbly way toward the road that lay almost a hundred yards from her. A long black car came into sight, a welcome vision to her tearful eyes.

It screeched to a halt and the door flew open. The sight of the strong blond man coming close to her was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"Robin, Robin, good heavens, are you all right?" asked Alex. He had torn off his faded denim jacket and now he pulled it gently around Robin's shivering shoulders. The feel of the comforting arm around her back made her blood run warm again in her veins. She buried her wet face in his broad chest and hung onto him with all the strength left in her tired body. He silently held her close.

She could have stayed that way for the rest of her life, she realized suddenly, overwhelmed with a sense of support and protection. She felt safe, unexplainably safe. Somehow the feelings she had for this unpredictable man had been creeping up on her. And standing so close to him, so wet and cold, she realized ashamedly that she was falling in love. Her tears gradually subsided, her shivering ceased. He put his hand under her chin and raised her face. She was so afraid to meet his eyes! She was so afraid that the rush of feeling for him should show.

"Come on, Robin," he said quietly. "Let's get you home so you can dry out. I'll have the men take care of the jeep." He led her to his waiting black car and shut the door behind her.

Her face burned with shame. She had practically thrown herself into his arms a few moments ago, blindly needing him, blindly showing her feelings. And his eyes had looked right into hers, with concern, yes. But not with love.

She remembered Sara's calflike expression as she gazed longingly at Mac in town. Was she, too, as gullible and ridiculous as lovesick Sara?

Robin huddled in the dark corner of the car as the ranch came into sight. Alex let her out by the front door and then went to put the car away. Overhead, the clouds were beginning to clear. The rain had stopped. Such unruly weather they had in the West! It never seemed to do anything halfway. When it was beautiful, it was too gorgeous for words. And when it stormed, well, that was a different story.

Robin had a feeling the man she had just left was something like that. If he loved, she knew he would love wholeheartedly. But what of hate? Could his hatred be so great that his anger could bring him to violence?

She pushed the thought away and entered the low-slung house as a sliver of sunlight began to peer out from the dissipating clouds.

Dinner was late that night at the ranch. Robin bathed and washed and dried her long hair, then pulled on some dry clothes to meet the family in the dining room. She was attempting to retain her composure, trying to dismiss the vivid memory of the careening jeep plowing through the stormy prairie. She was only thankful that Alex had come along when he did.

Sara met Robin in the hallway and the two headed for the dining room.

"Dad was so furious when I came home without you this afternoon. He was sure you'd get stuck somewhere in the storm, not being used to our weather out here."

"I skidded, trying to avoid an animal on the road. Then I couldn't slow the jeep down. It kept barreling along at full speed. Next thing I knew, I was flying through the air."

"How horrible. I'll bet you were scared," Sara said. Her eyes had their strange gleam in them.

"Sure was."

The boys were seated at the table, but Alex's place at the far end was unoccupied.

"I'm going to start serving, Miss Robin," said Cook from the door. "It's late enough already, and the last time I looked out I saw Mr. Alex and he was heading for the barn. He may be quite a while yet."

"I'm sure that will be fine," Robin decided.

Gregory's eyes already looked droopy and tired, and the children all looked ravenous.

"What did you do in town after I left with Mac?" asked Sara casually, putting a little more emphasis on Mac's name than was necessary.

Robin took a deep breath. She was going to have to be open with these children. "I went to talk to Mrs. Manchester in town."

"You asked her about the accident?" exclaimed Jacob with annoyance. "You're just going to make everyone start talking about it again. Father will be furious. Absolutely furious."

And at that moment Robin saw what Alexander Ridley looked like when he was furious. For he strode into the dining room almost on top of Jacob's angry words, his face a burning angry red, his eyes flashing.

He turned to Robin. "Where did you park that jeep when you were in town?"

His question startled her.

"Why, right on the end of the main street," she stammered.

"And how long did you leave it?"

"We did some errands, some shopping. Why?" Her face was burning, too, at his impertinent questions about her behavior. Why was he interrogating her?

"And she talked to Mrs. Manchester about Mother," said Gregory, innocently filling in the details.

"You what?" This time Alex roared. Robin could see the veins in his neck throbbing as he stood staring at her in disbelief. She was speechless.

"Children, go to your rooms," he commanded.

They silently left the dining room together. Gregory in confusion, Sara unhappy, and Jacob with a gloating look upon his handsome young face.

"And, now." Alex asked, his voice barely in control, "What on earth were you doing talking to Mrs. Manchester about my wife?"

Robin had a fleeting memory of his strong arm around her in the storm, his gentle, caring touch. It was certainly gone now.

"I merely wanted to hear what she had to say about the whole thing. I can't help it, Alex, but someone has got to go back to that day and find out the truth. For the children. For you."

"Very touching. Miss North, but in bad taste, nevertheless. There is no way to prove whether it happened the way the inquest said or not."

"It didn't happen the way the inquest said, and I think you know it. It wasn't an accident."

And Robin saw his face change with her words, like a shield being pulled away, and she had a glimpse of the torment of a miserable human being, a soul that had borne more than its share of life's pain.

"But I don't think it was you who killed her," she added softly.

"Robin," he pleaded, "please, just stay out of this. There is no way to come up with an answer."

She could sense that he had believed her words. Alex had known that his wife had been murdered. He lived with the painful knowledge of it. But if he himself wasn't the one who had lowered the rock on the woman's head, then why was he so opposed to discovering who did it? There was only one possible explanation. He must be protecting someone, shielding someone. But who? Someone from the ranch? Or even Jacob? Or Sara? They had been only eleven at the time, but certainly physically able to commit the act. Suddenly, Robin's stomach felt leaden. Just who would be accused if the innocence of the man before her was proven? She felt very mixed up.

"Robin, you've got to listen to me." He put his large hands on her shoulders and held her firmly. His eyes were dark and unwavering. "Robin, someone may have known that you were going around stirring up trouble about this affair. Someone may not have liked you sticking your nose into the past.

"The incident with the jeep today may not have been an accident. I had the men bring it back to the ranch and they've just finished giving it a thorough going over. There was a reason you couldn't stop out there on the prairie. There was a slice in the brake cable. While there's a chance it occurred naturally with contact with a sharp rock on the prairie, there's also a good chance that someone quite deliberately cut the brake cable.

As hard as it is to believe, someone might have had the nerve to try such a thing, even in broad daylight, in town. You couldn't have stopped that vehicle no matter what. Even if you hadn't tried to avoid the animal on the road, you still wouldn't have made it home. You'd never have been able to make the turnoff into the ranch, and we'd probably have had to scrape you off one of the poles on the side of the road. If that's the case, someone was trying to kill you."

There was a knot deep in the pit of Robin's stomach that night as she got ready to retire. The events of the day, topped with the mind-boggling facts that Alex had presented her with at the dinner table, had kept her mind in a whirl. She lay her head on the soft pillow and vainly tried to succumb to sleep, attempting to relax her taut body to give it the rest she knew it needed.

But the sleep wouldn't come. Over and over her mind went over every detail of her brief stay at the Ridley Ranch. In the placid state that she had been in during those last lonely days in Chicago, she had not had much of a part in the events that had brought her here. Like a child, she had blindly taken the advice that had been offered her way by her cousin, Herman; advice that she had never really stopped to evaluate. But the advice had done some good, she grimly told herself. And for the first time in a great long while, she had been able to think about other things than her own immediate sadness and sense of loss.

Robin remembered the feel of Alex's muscular arms around her, shielding her from the wind and rain, and from her own fears after the accident with the jeep. She remembered the sudden rush of feeling, the realization that he meant much more to her than he should. She felt her cheeks burn at the thought. What had she expected? Some type of movie-script reaction from him? That he would sweep her off her feet and confess that he, too, had been attracted to her from the very first second their eyes had met? So unreal. In fact, she couldn't really decipher the feelings herself, to pinpoint the turning point when his moods and reactions had begun to mean more to her than before. And she wouldn't be the first young woman to make a fool of herself, she was sure. His conclusion about women being fortune hunters was probably the result of many uncomfortable situations.

And what of her job here ? Now that Robin had stuck her nose into a situation that wasn't her business, taken risks that were not her place to take, opened up festering wounds in a family that lived with a shadow over its past, and finally pushed some desperate person far enough to make an attempt on her life, just what should she do?

She felt stronger now, more sure of herself in her recent days in Montana. Until today. Whatever new maturity she had attained, it was not worth risking her neck.

She climbed out of her bed and lit a dim light on her dressing table. No sense trying to sleep in a state like this. She wrote a quick letter to Herman, careful not to mention the recent occurrences at the ranch, but making it clear that she did not desire to stay here any longer.

Chapter 8