Wildfire (12 page)

But there was no baby here…no little girl or boy with strawberry blond hair and Tessa’s boundless energy. He suddenly felt sick. “Did…did she end the pregnancy?”

Claire’s rage slowly faded, leaving her gaunt face defeated and drawn, and she finally let Sofia lead her to a chair.

“Claire insisted on giving the baby up for adoption, but Tessa refused. She fought her mom for the entire nine months, because Claire was so angry that a daughter had failed her.”

He waited, feeling breathless and disconnected to everything but the sound of Sofia’s rich, deep voice. “And?”

The woman’s eyes shimmered. “She had that baby, a little boy. So beautiful, so perfect. She named him Joshua. But there were problems—and he only lived a few minutes. He died in Tessa’s arms.”

J
osh stared at the walls for an hour after Sofia and Claire left, feeling more alone and empty than he’d ever felt before.

He’d been a little wild during his early college days, so far from home and away from parental supervision. He’d reveled in his freedom, and had partied too much, stayed up too late, then slept through most of each weekend, never bothering to get up for church. He’d missed too many classes and let his GPA slip. It had been all too easy to fall in with the wrong crowd.

But his relationship with Tessa had been a fragile, gentle thing, filled with wonder and the thrill of a first, young love. He’d started to clean his act up after he met her, for she was an innocent ranch girl and shied away from the wild crowd, and he’d wanted to be with her every moment of every day.

He searched his memory, trying to remember the day they broke up. So close to that one, fateful night when they’d gone further than they’d meant to…. Had she already been afraid she could be pregnant? Had she been scared and tense and trying to tell him about it? He sure hadn’t gotten the message. Had he inadvertently said something that devasted her?

For any teenager, an unplanned pregnancy would be a frightening situation. With a mother like Claire waiting back at the ranch, it must have been terrifying.

And just like he had with Lara, Josh now knew that he must have failed Tessa every step of the way.

He didn’t even want to imagine the depths of grief she must have felt while holding her sweet baby in her arms and watching him die.

There were no words Josh could say, there was no way he could repair the damage he had done. No wonder Tessa had given him such a cool reception—what had it been like for her, seeing a nightmare from her past come to life? And now he’d stayed at her ranch, dragging out those terrible memories for six long weeks.

Maybe he’d had some hopes and dreams about re-kindling a relationship with her—one that could last forever—but the only fair thing would be to pack up and get out of her life…and leave her in peace.

Tessa pulled to a stop in front of the barn at six o’clock. Turned off the motor of the truck, then leaned against the seat, lost in thought.

She’d mulled over the past couple months on her way back to the ranch. None of the pieces seemed to fit, yet sheer coincidence was improbable at best. How could so many things happen and not be related?

The wildfires in the area were an annual problem, of course. And though the fire season rarely started this early, none of them had been major fires, and none had reached the Snow Canyon Ranch borders. Yet.

The cabin break-ins were scattered in a five-mile radius of Wolf Creek, so those also seemed unrelated to what had happened at the ranch—though with Danny’s arrest for burglary and Edward’s murder, she’d lost a valuable, essential employee.

But the cattle thefts, break-ins, and the poisoning of her pack string were another matter. Though what could be the motivation?

Competition, as Josh had suggested? She only had to look as far as Arlen for that. He’d offered to buy her out a couple times, and he’d been furious this afternoon, assuming that she’d stolen his customers. Though there could be other operators who were desperately hanging on, and ready to trample their competition in any way they could.

Or was it someone who simply hoped the ranch would go under? There wasn’t a month that went by without some hotshot realtor stopping by to make an offer. Snow Canyon Ranch had perfect views of the mountains, with deeply rolling foothills, mountain streams and good pastures, and she knew any one of them—or some millionaire investor—would snap up the place in a second if it ever came on the market.

And that left those who might have more personal reasons. A list of people who went way back, to when Claire had been a powerful force in the county, with powerful ties. She’d been ruthless and unforgiving, and Tessa was pretty sure that she and her sisters knew only a fraction of what had gone on.

She could only remember a couple names…though she could recall all too well the taunts of other kids at school, especially when Claire had done something particularly noteworthy.

After chores and supper, she would call Leigh and Janna, and try to come up with a list of possibilities. And then, she was going to get to work.

Sofia looked troubled when Tessa walked in the kitchen an hour later. “Janna brought Claire by this afternoon, to save you a trip,” she murmured as she stirred a pot of fragrant chili on the stove.

Tessa winced. “I knew she was coming and that you’d be here, but I meant to get back much sooner. Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Surprised, Tessa glanced around the kitchen. “Is she outside?”

“Janna came back and got her, because she got really agitated and it took her a while to settle down. You…probably need to visit with Josh.”

Tessa groaned. “She didn’t go after him. Tell me she didn’t.”

“Your sister says she refused to go to her last doctor’s appointment but thinks maybe a medicine adjustment could help. They were headed straight for the clinic, so Claire couldn’t back out again.”

Tessa felt a stab of guilt. “I should’ve been here. Maybe I could’ve helped. Talked her out of it, or something.”

“Your mother was beyond gentle conversation. I’m even wondering if they’ll hospitalize her a while, just to get her stabilized.” Sofia dropped her gaze to the chili. “I’m afraid…well, I don’t know how much you’ve told him, but he knows everything now.”

A sick feeling pooled in Tessa’s stomach.

On the horrific day of her son’s birth, she’d catapulted from the greatest joy on earth into the deepest chasm of grief.

After the simple graveside services, the entire family had carefully skirted the topic. Perhaps, in some misguided way, they’d figured that not mentioning her loss meant she wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t mourn.

As if.

She’d mourned privately, caught in a mire of grief and guilt over the fact that she hadn’t wanted the baby. Had he been somehow aware of her feelings before his birth? Felt unloved? The inestimable sadness of it all had been simply overwhelming.

In time, she’d made it vehemently clear to the family that she preferred silence to platitudes, so no one ever brought up the subject again.

Until now.

“I’m afraid your mother wasn’t tactful about it,” Sofia continued. “Josh looked white as snow by the time I found her.”

“I…I’ll talk to him. I guess I should’ve already, but it seemed like there wasn’t a point any longer.”

“There is now, honey, because I think that poor boy is upset.” She waved her big wooden spoon toward the door. “And you’ve got an hour before suppertime to make it right.”

Tessa left messages for Leigh and Janna about delving into Claire’s more unfortunate business dealings with the people of Wolf Creek, then she took a deep breath, steeled herself, and hiked over to Josh’s cabin.

She faltered to a stop at the sight of him standing by his vintage Harley.

“Looks like new, doesn’t it?” he asked, glancing up at her. “I called the shop this afternoon and they were able to deliver it for an extra fifty bucks.”

“I-it’s beautiful.” He went back to methodically wiping invisible dust off the chrome with one of his T-shirts, and she remembered how proud of it he’d been in college, how careful. “You don’t seem pleased, though.”

“I am. It runs like a dream, too. I won’t have any trouble getting back to D.C.”

Seeing him with that stark, sad expression in his eyes, she recognized the emotions that she’d struggled with for so long—the incredible, earth-shaking reality of being a new parent, the devastation of loss. The two farthest ends of the spectrum of human emotion, with the power to wrench your heart from your chest and grind it to dust.

She walked up to him and rested a hand on his arm, knowing that there were no words that could erase this kind of pain. Even though his loss had happened years ago, it was new to him right now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried so hard to find you. For months and months, figuring you had the right to know. And then the baby came and…and…” She drew in a shuddering breath. “After that, I tried once last time, then gave up. I was down so low, for so long, that I didn’t care about anything anymore.”

He looked at her with those beautiful, sad eyes, and she automatically moved into his embrace to lay her cheek against his hard muscled chest, just as if she’d never left, never stopped loving him. It felt so
right,
feeling the steady beat of his heart and the warm strength of his arms.

He held her close, his cheek resting against her hair. “I had no idea. You’ve got to believe that,” he murmured. “If I’d known, I would have been at your side through that whole nine months.”

“I know, Josh. I know.”

She’d railed at God and at Josh from the depths of her grief. For years, she’d held onto her anger, for she’d felt betrayed and abandoned by them both. After all she’d endured from Claire during the pregnancy, how could God have taken away the baby, too?

She’d mostly healed, over time. Lost that knife edge of pain in her heart. But she’d stayed away from church and had held on to the remnants of her anger for all these years. Yet now, the last of it dissipated, like faint wisps of fog in sunlight.

“I would have grieved with you. I…just had no idea. I let you down, in every possible way. And the baby…I never got to see him. My own son.”

She pulled away, her hands on his forearms. “I have a baby book, with his picture and footprints, and a curl of his hair. There’s…not much else in there. There wasn’t time.”

“Is it here—at the house?”

“Wait, and I’ll get it.”

She jogged back to the house and upstairs to the spare room that had once been set up as a nursery, where she’d refused to dismantle the crib and changing table for months, and where she’d hidden away to cry whenever she could.

But Claire hadn’t understood. She’d somehow expected that Tessa would be back in the saddle in no time, perhaps even be relieved at the simplification of her life. And then one day, the baby clothes and furnishings simply disappeared; a violation that Tessa had never quite been able to forgive.

It had been years since Tessa had come in this room, and though Sofia kept it dusted and aired, the book was exactly where she’d left it on a nightstand, with candles and a dried, crumbling bouquet still in the original vase, with faded blue ribbon hanging limply from its neck.

When she handed the book to Josh, she saw his gentle, reverent touch of the cover, then she withdrew to the house and gave him time alone.

But after supper, they slowly walked the ranch lane clear out to the highway and back again, talking about old times. Old regrets. And by the time she wished him good night and went back to the house, she knew that she’d fallen just a little more in love with the man from her past.

Janna and Leigh both called the next morning with the names they remembered, and Tessa came up with a list of at least six families who had been harmed in some way by Claire’s callous determination to profit in every way she could.

The sisters had been just little girls back then. If they remembered that many names, how many more were there?

Tessa looked through old ranch files stored in the attic, searching for employee records, then ticked down the list.

Ted Foster had worked on the ranch for fifteen years, but when Claire fired him for “insubordination”…soon after he’d been diagnosed with emphysema.

Bill Clark had sustained hip and back injuries after being bucked off a colt. He’d eventually come back to work, Tessa remembered, but then he was let go for unknown reasons.

The Haskins, though Leigh said the elder Haskins was in desperately poor health and housebound, and his son was serving time in prison.

The Farleys, a family with a pack of small children who lived in a rental house Claire owned in town. Years ago, Claire evicted them just before the holidays for nonpayment of rent. Sure, they’d been months and months behind, but before the
holidays?
The timing had polarized the town for weeks.

And finally, there were a couple of families, the Bassetts and the Irwins, who’d had their ranching operations foreclosed. Some said that Claire had pulled strings at the local bank—after which she snapped up their property at rock-bottom prices.

Tessa turned to her laptop computer—the desktop had been at the tech shop since the break-in—and began researching each name. Using the free “people search” functions online, she looked for addresses, relatives and phone numbers, then began calling.

Ted Foster had died in Oklahoma ten years ago—too long ago and too far away to be a credible lead. Bill Clark was in a nursing home in Colorado now, with no close next of kin. The Haskins were accounted for—which left just three, and both the Irwins and the Bassetts still had Jackson County addresses.
Bingo.

They were her only leads so far, and this afternoon, she was going into town to hunt them down.

B
y the time she finished chores and working several two-year-olds in the arena, it was nearly three o’clock and she still hadn’t checked on the cattle. Even if she skipped that, there wasn’t much time for a shower, the drive into town, and finding people who might be able to provide the information Tessa needed.

But when Josh offered to take the four-wheeler out to check on the cattle, she gratefully accepted the help and made it through her shower and the trip to Wolf Creek in record time.

It was only when she arrived that she realized how awkward her questions were going to be.
Hey, I’m trying to find my mom’s old enemies, because one of them might be trying to destroy us. Got any idea where these people are?

Taking a fortifying breath, she stepped into the tiny Wolf Creek Post Office, where silver-haired Mrs. Halloway was selling a book of stamps to a customer. She’d been behind that counter since Tessa could remember.

The customer lingered, chatting about someone named Madge who needed surgery, and the Johnson boy who was seeing the Ralston’s oldest daughter, and a host of other bits of gossip, until Mrs. Halloway held up her hand and looked over the woman’s shoulder at Tessa. “Can I help you with something?”

The customer clearly wasn’t leaving. The last thing Tessa needed was to ask questions in front of her, and then alert the entire gossip grapevine in town. And if Mrs. Halloway was happily exchanging news with this woman, maybe she wouldn’t be such a safe bet, either.

“Um…no. I’ll come back another time.” She slipped out the front door and scanned the two-block long downtown area.

There were so many new shops now and many of the old standbys had closed. To the right she could just see the snow-white spire of the Wolf Creek Community Church, where her family had gone for generations.

It had been a long, long time since she’d stepped inside those massive oak doors. She found herself walking down the street in that direction, and in no time she was there, looking up the long concrete walk, she hesitated, feeling a little awkward and unsure.

And maybe a little embarrassed, given her years of absence. Her sudden appearance was for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with faith and the deepest feelings in her heart.

It was a lovely, old-fashioned church, sitting on the hillside with its tall, snowy white spire trimmed with fanciful gingerbread, and a dozen tall, stained glass windows on each side. The mullioned windows in the heavy oak doors at the front caught the sunlight and sparkled with hints of rich jewel colors, even from the distance.

There wouldn’t be anyone there, though. It had been silly to come this far for nothing.

But as she turned to go, the faint strains of an organist playing “Beautiful Savior” filtered out to the street, and she noticed that those front doors were ajar. Curious, Tessa paused to listen. Was Mrs. Sawyer still the organist?

She couldn’t be. Not after all these years. Her soft, white curls had bounced along in time to the hymns she played back when Tessa and her sisters were kids. If the woman had looked ancient then, she surely couldn’t be alive and playing the organ now.

Still, Tessa found herself walking up that sidewalk and easing that door open a little wider, then she stepped into the cool, dark depths of the church to the familiar scents of old hymnals and cut flowers and burnished wood, which…oddly…made her feel as if she’d just come home.

The music stopped. Up at the front, to the left of the pulpit in the organist’s alcove, a white head popped up from behind the organ and Mrs. Sawyer peered out over the empty pews, as spry as ever.

Tessa had always shied away from public displays of emotion. Special notice always made her uncomfortable. She steeled herself, already embarrassed over what the elderly woman would say.
Well, well! Amazing that you walked in this door!
Or
good heavens, why on earth did you decide to come here after all these years?

If Tessa had ever had a thought of coming back into the fold, running the gauntlet of stares and comments by her old acquaintances had been enough to keep her away.

Mrs. Sawyer rounded the organ and came down the aisle, a fragile wren of a woman in bright purple slacks and a fuchsia top, with sturdy walking shoes on her delicate feet.

She pulled to a stop just a foot away from Tessa and looked up at her through thick trifocals. “Hi, dearie. I’ll be done in a few minutes, if you’ve come to pray.” Her eyes twinkled. “I know it must be distracting, with me thumping away on that organ.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “But after all these years, I’ve still got to practice, or I’ll be in
real
trouble on Sunday mornings.”

At once charmed and relieved, Tessa smiled in return. “Actually, I wonder if I could have just a couple minutes of your time.”

The woman’s face lit with pleasure. “Of course! We could sit in the babies’ cry room at the back. The chairs are nice and comfy in there.”

When they were settled in two of the padded rockers, Tessa pulled her list of names from her shirt pocket and handed it to Mrs. Sawyer. “I’m wondering about some people who lived around here. Do you know if they’re still in the area?”

“Well, let me see.” She bobbed her head until she zeroed in on the right part of her trifocals, then focused on the list and smiled. “Ahhh. Bill Clark—fine man. Far as I know, he’s in Colorado. Ted Foster moved away years ago. Lowell Haskins is…away. His dad Harvey lives out at the old trailer park. Our Comfort and Care committee ladies tried bringing him food baskets, but he’s a very proud and stubborn man.”

So far, she hadn’t been wrong on a single thing that Tessa knew already. “What about the Bassetts and the Irwins?”

Mrs. Sawyer frowned. “I’m pretty sure the elder Bassetts moved to Oklahoma. A couple of the young ones stayed…Lonnie and his brother Trace.”

“Here in town?”

“They’re ranch hands, I think, when they’re not stirring up trouble. After their ranch went into foreclosure, that family never really recovered. I doubt they went on to college, but I don’t know for a fact. Now, the Irwins are fine, upstanding folk. The mister runs the grocery store in Salt Grass, so they moved over there a while back. They both ought to be close to retirement by now.” She studied the piece of paper. “Ahh, the Farleys,” she said softly. “Now there was a sad case.”

She darted a quick look at Tessa, faint color staining her weathered cheeks. “Oh, dear. I mean, sad because of Mr. Farley’s health and all. They moved away, but I never heard where. They had the sweetest little ones—just like stair steps, they were. All redheads like their momma.”

Probably not the Irwins, then, of the final three. “If I wanted to talk to the Bassetts or the Farleys, would you have any idea where I should start looking?”

“The post office, maybe. Or the bank. Though these days, no one can say much of anything about anyone. So finding them won’t be easy.” She leaned forward and patted Tessa’s leg. “But pray on it, because God does listen to all of your prayers.”

Tessa’s silent doubt must have shown on her face, because Mrs. Sawyer smiled. “His answers might not be what we expect, and some answers take longer to be answered—until exactly the right time. He loves His children, dearie. Trust in Him.”

Tessa had the uncomfortable feeling that they were no longer talking about the Bassetts or the Farleys. But Mrs. Sawyer couldn’t know about Tessa’s past. No one in town did. She’d stayed at the ranch the entire nine months, and then there’d been a brief, graveside service at the family’s private little cemetery up in the foothills.

But as she walked back to her truck, she felt an unexpected warmth unfurling in her heart.

Back at the ranch, Tessa did her barn chores, then went to her home office and started jotting notes about her trip to town.

Sofia appeared at the door a moment later, wiping her hands on her apron. “There’s a fax for Josh coming through, so don’t answer the phone if it rings. It’s some lady magazine editor from New York.”

“Editor?” Surprised, Tessa rocked back in her chair. Josh had mentioned some sort of photo assignment. Did that actually involve editors?

Sofia shrugged. “She said she tried to call his cell phone, but there was no answer.”

“Probably because he’s out of range.”

“She asked about faxing something called a ‘rough draft,’ plus papers he needs to sign and send right back. I told her our fax number.”

The phone started ringing, and after four rings the fax machine on the credenza kicked in. It sputtered and froze up for a second, then slowly chugged out three sheets of paper before jamming on the fourth.

Typical.

It was her third machine in less than a year, and so far the service contract she’d bought with the original unit was proving to be the best investment she’d made in ages. But that didn’t help the fact that once something was partly delivered, it wasn’t possible to hit a button and print it all over again.

“Good luck,” Sofia said dryly. “That looks like a gonner to me.”

And it was. Tessa gently tugged, tried opening the machine and pushing on the rollers, prying a letter opener between the gears, but ultimately, she was only able to retrieve a shredded, ink-smeared piece of paper.

She hesitated. “I hate to read any of this, but Josh won’t be back for a couple hours. Maybe there’s a letterhead with a phone number, so I could call her,” she murmured. “What do you think?”

“You’d think they’d be closed by now, New York time. But maybe she’s still near the machine and can re-send it, so Josh can take care of it first thing in the morning.” Sofia backed out of the door and disappeared down the hallway. “I’ll have supper ready at seven o’clock” she called out. “Then I need to go sit with Gus for awhile at the care center.”

Tessa smiled, thinking about the long conversation she and Josh had enjoyed last night. He was still the only man who’d ever made her heart beat faster, and despite her earlier doubts, he was still a kind and thoughtful guy. Maybe he’d even decide to move out West someday…and then, who knew where
that
might lead, in time?

Tessa gingerly turned over the three intact fax papers, fixing her attention only at the top border.

Green Earth
magazine.

And sure enough, a woman’s name, address and phone number were listed under the company letterhead.

Tessa hesitated, feeling a flash of uneasiness at interfering. She started to dial, then stopped. The phone rang a minute later.

“Snow Canyon Ranch? Sylvia Meiers, here. I’m just checking to make sure my fax went through okay. Is Josh Bryant available?”

“He’s out. This is Tessa McAllister.”

“Ahh.” The woman’s voice filled with pleasure. “You’re the young woman who has been helping him, right? He sent the article and photo files this afternoon, and I’ll have to say, I think the article is dynamite.”

Tessa forgot to breathe for a moment.
“Article?”

“We’ve wanted to run a photo essay on the Wyoming Rockies situation for a long time, and your cooperation was invaluable.”

Invaluable?
“Um…the last page didn’t come through.”

“Ahhh…and that was the page he needs to sign. I’ll send it again. You’re welcome to read this draft of the article, by the way. He’s a fine writer, and I think you’ll be very pleased.”

After hanging up, Tessa took a closer look at the documents in her hand, and the title said it all.
The Negative Impact of Grazing Rights on Public Land in Wyoming.

Her heart sank as she forced herself to read the rest.

It had been a hot topic of debate for decades, sharply dividing local politicians, ranchers and environmentalists. And now Josh had sharply criticized the ranchers as carelessly destroying the priceless heritage of the land; the habitat of its native plants and animals.

And right below Josh’s name was an acknowledgment of her assistance with researching the article.

A sick feeling worked its way through her stomach, tying it into knots. Josh had never said a word about anything beyond taking photographs. He’d promised to provide a fair and balanced view.

In all these weeks, there’d been
not one word
of anything more.

In the meantime, she’d been swept away, foolishly misled into believing that he truly cared for her, while she’d been falling in love with him in return. And he’d only been using her.

How could she have been so blind—the second time around?

“We did everything you said.
Everything.
Now where’s the money?”

The person standing in the shadows met the man’s glare with one of equal intensity. “You really didn’t succeed now, did you? That ranch is still in business. She’s alive and well. You’ve been thinking way too small.”

“But—”

“You knew the deal before we started.”

“I
ain’t
risking the death penalty.”

His business partner laughed, though it was an eerie, keening sound, without a trace of humor. “You won’t. No one will ever figure it out, or have any idea that you were involved. And when it’s all over, you’ll have more cash in your pocket that you could possibly spend. Understood?”

The money.
He’d lost sight of the reward, and all it could do. He relaxed, and smiled with satisfaction. “Understood.”