Stone Cold Cowboy (14 page)

R
ory walked into the house through the back door. He pried off his dirty boots and set them on the metal tray Sadie had found and put down to help keep the laundry room clean. He and his brothers tended to track in the yard. She got tired of cleaning up the dirt, dust, and field debris every day. He looked around the small room, taking in the piles of clean clothes she left for each of them on the table by the window. The washer and dryer gleamed white when it, too, had been covered in dust from them traipsing in and out through this room. The tile floor was scrubbed clean; a new multitoned brown rug she made Ford buy covered the floor.

He made his way into the kitchen, hoping for a cup of coffee to ward off the cold day and warm his bones. He expected to find Sadie at the stove, cooking dinner or some other meal she'd leave in the fridge for them to heat and eat whenever they got hungry. He'd gotten so used to having her in the house, the emptiness of the kitchen unsettled him. His spirits sank. He stood in the quiet room and stared at the spotless countertops and cooktop. Only a few dishes sat in the sink to
be washed, whereas before they'd piled high until he or one of his brothers decided to finally fill the dishwasher. The basket of mail sat on the countertop by the phone. No messages. Sadie hadn't brought the mail in like she did each day when she arrived and picked it up from the box up on the road.

“Sadie,” he called through the house, hoping she was upstairs, cleaning one of the rooms.

“Rory,” his grandfather called back from the office off the living room.

“Yeah, Granddad, it's me.” Rory made his way out of the kitchen and through the living room, which had been touched by Sadie, too. Not a single speck of dust or fingerprint marred any surface. The pillows were neatly tucked into the corners of the couch. A cream-colored blanket draped over the brown leather sofa.

In the five nights since his first date with Sadie and the incident with her brother and his friends and the cops showing up, he'd barely seen Sadie outside this house. She came each and every day, did her work, and left to be with her father. He didn't know how she did it. He'd lost his parents in a cruel and unusual way, but at least he hadn't had to sit there and watch them die before his eyes.

“She's not here,” his grandfather said.

“I see that. Where is she?”

“Don't know. Maybe you should call and check on her. It's not like her to be late, let alone not show up.”

Granddad's concern infused with Rory's. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial for Sadie. She didn't answer. Voice mail picked up, and although he loved hearing her sweet voice, a sense of dread came over him.

“Hey, sweetheart, it's me. Where are you? Call me as soon as you get this.”

“You really are sweet on her.”

Rory tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Don't start, Granddad.”

“I'm not starting. I'm happy. Can't I be happy for my grandson, especially you?”

Rory narrowed his gaze, not understanding his grandfather's meaning. “Why especially me?”

“Don't get me wrong, your brothers deserve every happiness, but they aren't like you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You're so serious all the time. You work hard, but you don't take time for yourself.”

“I haven't exactly been living as a monk these last years.”

“Might as well have been. There's no wife sleeping in your bed. No kids running around this place.”

“Granddad, enough with all this talk about babies.”

“Hasn't this thing with Sadie's father taught you anything? Time is precious and passes far too fast. He's more than twenty years younger than me, and I will outlive him. Is it so much to ask that before I die I get to see my boys happily married and raising families?”

“Who says I even want to get married?”

“Now you're just lying or fooling yourself. I saw the way you looked around the house. She's made her mark here and in your life. You miss her when she's gone.”

“She's not gone. She's just not here.”

“And how much does that bother you? How much do you want her here?”

Too much to admit outright to his grandfather, who'd
be calling the preacher and buying a cradle before the day was out.

“Love is one of those things you just know, like the sun will rise again tomorrow.”

“We've had one date that ended in a raid by the cops. She cooks and cleans here because her brother stole our cattle.”

“What does any of that have to do with how you feel about her?”

Nothing. Everything. The date might have ended badly, but he'd enjoyed every second he spent with her. He admired her strength and resiliency. The way she cared for her father and tried to help her brother told him how important family was to her. The same way it was important to him.

“Don't make things harder than they have to be.” His grandfather had been saying that since he was a kid.

“I'm not making them hard. Things are complicated right now. I've barely seen her these last few days.”

“And you miss her. Tell her that. She'll like it. Send her some flowers. Better yet, pick her some and take them to her. Tell her in person how you feel.”

“She knows I like being with her. She even called me her boyfriend.”

When she called him her boyfriend, he had to admit his heart leaped in his chest. He'd liked the idea that she belonged to him and he belonged to her. He liked the connection they shared, the way she made him feel, and the way she'd gotten him out of his tired routine. He really did look forward to seeing her smiling face when he came in from work.

And she wasn't here today and the disappointment still lingered in his mind and heart.

Damn, he really did like her, but did he love her?

Maybe. When he saw that guy with a gun to her head, his heart stopped. The thought of her dead . . . The rest of his lonely life spread out ahead of him; it seemed so bleak.

He should do more to show her how much he wanted to be with her. He didn't really know what to do. No one would say he was a romantic. A job needed doing, he got it done. He wished he knew what to do to win Sadie's heart and affection.

“I don't know why she's not here. Maybe something happened with her father. I'm heading over to her place to find out.” He had to go and see for himself, because staying here another minute would only mean an evening spent worrying, which would drive him crazier than he felt right now.

Rory went back through the kitchen and into the laundry room to stuff his feet back in his boots. Ready to leave, he held the door handle, but stopped at his grandfather's words.

“It's okay to love her, Rory. She won't leave you like your parents did.”

This certainly had nothing to do with his parents. He didn't think she'd leave him. Certainly not without cause. But did he give her enough reason to stay? He feared he'd held back too much of himself from Sadie.

His mind spun. He didn't share his thoughts or feelings with his grandfather. He didn't share them with anyone most of the time.

“That's not what this is about,” he denied, hoping his grandfather would drop all this so he could figure out what to do about Sadie on his own.

“Isn't it? Isn't that the reason you hold on to Ford
and Colt and me and this ranch so tight? Isn't that the reason you've never let anyone close to you, because you're afraid they'll leave?”

Rory walked out and closed the door between him and his grandfather. He closed the door on the conversation. Rory wasn't afraid of being left alone. But the thought of his future on this ranch without a wife and children made his future seem empty and lonely.

If he missed Sadie the way he did now, what would it be like if she was there every day, in his bed, in his life? He didn't want to think of having all that happiness and the possibility he could lose it if she left him. But, he realized now he'd risk the hurt to have at least a little bit of happiness—for however long it lasted.

R
ory pulled up
in front of Sadie's house and slammed on the brakes. A sense of dread washed through his system, knotting his gut at the sight of the front door left wide open. Sadie's truck wasn't here. Where was she? The possible answers to that question rolled through his mind and unsettled him even more.

He jumped out of the truck and scanned the surrounding yard, paying particular attention to the open barn doors. Nothing moved in the dark interior. No sound that someone lurked nearby. Nothing but the empty yard and whispering wind.

He rushed to the house and leaped the porch steps. The quiet disturbed him, but the trail of blood leading back into the house stopped his heart, constricted his chest, and made it impossible to breathe.

He sidestepped the drops of blood and smeared drag marks and followed the trail back to Mr. Higgins's
room. He stood in the doorway, his mind rebelling against the bloody scene in front of him. The bedcovers draped over the side of the bed and pooled on the floor. A smashed lamp lay on its side, the dented shade tilted, the bright bulb a blinding light, highlighting the blood splattered on the floor and walls. The right side of the night table beside the bed had been jarred and shoved into the wall, leaving a hole where the corner went through the sheetrock. A bloody shirt lay balled and crumpled on the mattress, like someone had used it as a compress against a terrible wound.

“What the fuck?”

Lost in his dark thoughts, Rory hadn't heard anyone come in. He spun toward the shocked voice and spotted the last person he expected to see. He reacted without thinking. Rory grabbed Connor and shoved him back through the bedroom door and slammed him into the hallway wall. Pictures of him and Sadie growing up through the years rattled against the wall along with Connor's bones. Rory held him off the ground, his forearm pressed to Connor's throat. The nasty gash across his cheek had scabbed over, but the angry red splotch along the edges indicated it had become infected. Rory didn't care about that; he only wanted to know one thing. “Where is she?”

Connor gasped and tried to speak, but Rory had cut off his air. Rory adjusted his arm across Connor's collarbones, but didn't let him go.

“Tell me where she is.” The dead calm in his voice didn't reveal the chaos of fear and desperation eating away at Rory's insides.

“I don't know.”

“If you hurt her, if that asshole you call a friend laid one finger on her, I swear to God . . .”

“I didn't. He's not here. Swear. I came back to tell her I'm sorry about . . . about everything.”

“You're sorry,” Rory roared. “Do you have any idea what you've put your sister through?”

“I . . . I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“And yet you did let it happen. You let that bastard string her up with barbed wire in a tree and slice her up with a knife.” Rory ignored the shame and regret in Connor's eyes. He didn't believe it. At least not enough to think Connor had any intention of making things right and making better choices in his life. “You let that asshole convince you that making and dealing drugs is a great way to earn a living. You stole my fucking cattle.”

“You don't understand . . .”

“Save your excuses for your sister. She's the only one who will listen to that shit, because she still believes that you will eventually do the right thing. I know better. You only look out for yourself.”

“That's not true.”

“Isn't it? Aren't you really here to convince her to get me to forget about the cattle you've stolen?”

Connor's eyes went wide with surprise that he'd guessed right.

“You think just because I'm with your sister I'm going to let you get away with anything. No way in hell, not after what you let happen to her.”

“I didn't do it.”

“That's not fucking good enough. You left her there. You didn't do a damn thing to save her. Did you even
think to call anyone to go and find her? Did you wonder at all what happened to her?”

“I—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Rory saw it in his eyes. He'd left her there, so focused on saving his own ass, he hadn't thought to do anything to save his sister. The drugs had stolen all his empathy and compassion for others, until all he thought about was himself and his next fix. Probably in the exact opposite order. “What you've done is unforgivable and it's time you paid.”

Rory pulled out his phone, but before he called the cops, it rang.

Bell's picture popped up on his screen and Rory closed his eyes for a moment, bracing for the worst.

“Bell, please tell me Sadie is okay.”

“She's fine.”

“You swear.”

“Yes, Rory, she wasn't hurt.”

Rory forgot himself, leaned back, and exhaled. Connor took advantage and shoved him back. Rory stumbled, but made a grab for Connor. He dodged and evaded, running down the hall and out the door. Frustrated, pissed, too worried about Sadie to care what happened to Connor, he let the punk go.

“What happened? Where is she?”

“Her father fell and hit his head. He's got major head trauma and lost quite a bit of blood.”

Rory glanced back at the bloody room and shook off the dread he'd carried, thinking someone died in that room.

“I stabilized him, but had to send him to the hospital in Bozeman. He and Sadie left in the ambulance a few minutes ago.”

“I tried to call her, but got her voice mail.”

“She's barely left her father's side. Rory, the prognosis . . .”

“It's not good, I take it.”

“She's beside herself. I thought you might like to know since the two of you seemed close after you brought her in.”

“We're seeing each other. I'll head to the hospital now.”