A Memory Worth Dying For (19 page)

“To be honest, Gerald. I don’t know what to think. He warned me not to return to Texas, and since I’m here, I assumed that might be why he came last night.”

“I think the man chasing you, if there was one, only wanted to scare you as a way of controlling you—to get his thrill by making you afraid.”

“I don’t know, Gerald. He warned me about coming back to Texas from the beginning. I think he meant it.”

“All right, Marti. I’ll have our police detective, Brent, check into it. If there was somebody here, he’ll find out.” He put his arm around her. “If you need protecting, we’ll protect you.”

Marti nodded and tried to feel comforted.

Surely the police could check into everyone in this area and eliminate suspects by their alibis. Couldn’t they?

THIRTY-FIVE

MARTI SLAMMED THE BACK SCREEN
door and turned toward the barn. After limited sleep and painting all morning, she needed something to help her unwind. The stables outside her studio windows had beckoned her all morning. She was dying to smell the scent of oiled leather, sweet feed, fresh hay, and horses—all the smells she spent hours enjoying when she lived here. Even the sharp smell of Absorbine was an odor she remembered fondly. She’d spent lots of time rubbing the medicine into the sore muscles of their best quarter horses.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Parker hovering under the tree shading the back of the house. The pungent smell of cigarette smoke burned her nostrils. Parker was smoking? Smoke curled from his mouth when he leaned his head back and blew out a slow breath.

After living through a house fire caused by an employee’s cigarette, Gerald made a steadfast rule: No smoking close to the house. Parker was disobeying that order while the boss wasn’t looking. He’d been with Gerald for at least twelve years or more—he should know the rules.

Marti’s flicker of anger became a flame. She glanced at him when she walked by and was shocked at the disgust in his face. His body language spoke volumes. She hastened her steps. Parker and Anita were friendly when she lived in the house with Daniel, until she’d gotten “religion” as they called it. After seeing her change in lifestyle, they became friendly but distant. However, since she returned to the ranch, they made it clear by their actions—they were no longer willing to be friends.

Remembering the red glow at the barn and the feeling that someone had been watching her on the balcony, she shivered. Parker was smoking. Could he be her midnight attacker?

Averting her eyes, she took a deep breath and walked toward the barn. Surely he wouldn’t have attacked her in his own home. Parker and Anita had obviously believed what was said about her, but they had no reason to hate her or want her dead. Still . . . since Parker was in charge of the house, he probably had a key to her balcony door. She glanced back and saw him peek into the windows of the house, like he was worried he might be caught.

Marti shook her head. His cautious attitude didn’t seem in character with a ruthless stalker.

The stable had been covered with a fresh coat of red paint, and the open windows at the end of the gable roof were framed with black trim. Water tanks flanked each side of the tack room attached to the east side of the barn, and horses mingled in the various corrals around the barn. The wide center door stood open and inviting. She took a deep breath and moaned in pleasure as the smells mingled and aroused a sleeping awareness.

As she walked across the wide expanse of plush green grass, she saw a man exit the barn with a riding saddle thrown over his shoulder. His hair was a little whiter, but Max Gibson still had the same agile but controlled posture she remembered. The sun had darkened his rugged features and lightened his steel gray eyes, and his white beard glistened in the sun. He always wore his blue tee shirt two times too large, but she could see toned muscles rippling underneath the thin fabric. The man’s eyes found hers, and recognition flashed across his face. Marti’s hands dug in her pockets, wondering what kind of reception she might receive.

“Well, as I live and breathe! If it ain’t Martha Rushing.” His Texas drawl was still part of his charm.

Marti’s face registered timidity, then pleasure. “Max! Everyone calls me Marti now. Oh, it’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

Max dumped the saddle on the green grass and reached to give her a one arm hug.

“I’m just fine, punkin. Gerald told me you was comin’. I’m as happy to see you again as a dog with two tails. You know Apollo near ‘bout grieved hisself to death when you left.”

An ache the size of Texas grew in her heart. Apollo was a wedding gift from Daniel and one of the things she missed the most about the ranch.

“I missed him too, Max, but . . .” She never finished her sentence and let her gaze drop.

Still holding her hands in his, Max sat down on a pile of square bales of hay and pulled her down beside him.

“Now, munchkin, I never did hold to the fact you were guilty of all them things they said. Don’t you think for a minute I believed it.”

Tears popped into her eyes, and she smiled through them. “Thanks, Max.”

After patting her on the shoulder, he pulled out a white cloth and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Truth is, I don’t trust rumors no way. They always get all mixed up and out of whack, and by the time they land somewhere, it’s nothin’ like what really happened.”

Marti sat up straight on the hay and pulled a piece of straw from the bale. She broke it into little pieces before she answered. “That was a long time ago, Max. We can’t turn back time.”

Max stole a glance toward the house and leaned toward her. “I heard what you’re doin’ here, and I want you to know I’m behind ya all the way.”

She looked down at the ground. “I hope it works, Max. I’m afraid it’s going to backfire in my face.”

He studied her for a moment and lifted one thumb in the air. “You go, girl, as all the kids say nowadays.” Then they stood up, and he gave her another hug.

“Where is Apollo? Can I see him?”

“Course you can see him. He’s around the back of the barn in the big field. I bet he remembers you too.”

A tall, sandy-headed man stepped out of the double doors with an overflowing trash can and a bucket of feed. “Max, the new white mare won’t eat her feed. I kept pushin’ it in front of her, but she got real agitated.”

Max looked angry. “I told you, Zach, we don’t force new horses to do anything. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now, if you can’t listen to what I tell you, maybe this isn’t the place for you anymore.”

Zach frowned. “Sure, Max. Whatever you say.”

“Just hang the bucket on the side of the stall and leave it there. If she gets hungry enough, she’ll eat.”

Zach lifted the wooden lid of the outside trash container and chucked the trash into the dumpster. Then he turned back toward the barn—his steps making an impression in the dirt with every step.

Max turned toward Zach and yelled, “Hey, Zach. I thought you were supposed to be inspecting the brakes of the backhoe today, not feeding the mares.”

Zach ground to a halt. “Warren claims he knows more about brakes than me. He told me to trade jobs.” He turned and entered the barn.

Max turned to Marti and frowned. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we? That man’s been here for three months, and I swear he’ll never learn to follow orders.”

“Who is he?”

“A man Daniel hired a few months ago. There were rumors about him ruining an expensive quarter horse where he worked before coming here, but for some reason, Daniel decided to give him a second chance. He’s a little lazy at times. Name’s Zach Parsons, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was Couch Potato.”

Marti ducked her head and smiled. Max was the same as ever. Tolerant and patient on the inside, but firm on the outside.

When several loud bangs came from inside the barn, Max laughed. “Well, I had better help Zach see to the afternoon feeding. The natives are getting restless.” He heaved the saddle back onto his shoulder. His grin widened his entire face. “It’s good to have you home, gal. I’ll be seeing you ‘round.”

Marti smiled her goodbye and headed toward the large field next to the barn.

THIRTY-SIX

MARTI STOPPED AT THE EDGE
of the field and sucked in a surprised breath of satisfaction. A palomino quarter horse drank water from the large metal tank against the fence about midway down the field. The horse raised his head quickly and smelled the air, turning his head slightly. When his eyes fell on Marti standing next to the fence, he snorted and turned to trot in her direction.

Marti stood still and waited, trying not to hold her breath.

When Apollo neared the fence line, he pushed his head over the top of the planks and nudged her in the chest.

Marti laughed and rubbed the soft place on the horse’s nose.

“Apollo. You remember me! Oh, I’ve missed you so.” She climbed over the wooden fence and hugged Apollo’s neck. Fire burned in the back of her throat, and she buried her head in golden brown muscle and mane. Apollo nickered and pushed his head against Marti’s back.

“He acts like he knows you.” Daniel’s voice came from beside the barn where he stood, looking pensive. “I guess Apollo and I have something in common. You seem familiar to both of us.”

Marti walked toward him, and Apollo followed. “He’s a beauty. Did you raise him?” Her voice was hoarse.

Daniel looked at the ground and scowled before answering. “No, actually, he belonged to my ex-wife—so I’m told.” The scorn in his words made her wince.

“Then why is he still here if she’s gone?” She had to get the jab in.

Daniel’s gaze traveled to the thick woods in front of the tallest mountain. His slow answer was steeped in pain. “She left. She destroyed our family and left. I’ve been told she was a disgrace and embarrassment, and it’s good riddance that she’s gone.”

The anguish in his words took her breath away. His anger chopped at her heart like a knife on a block of cheese. If he remembered her with as much heartache as he expressed, he certainly wouldn’t forgive her for what she’d done.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Apollo stomped his foot and nudged Marti again on the arm.

“Looks like he wants more attention.” Daniel pulled a carrot from the feed box beside the barn and handed it to Marti, the green stems still attached. Marti broke the carrot into large pieces and held it out in the flat palm of her hand. Apollo grabbed the carrot and munched contentedly.

Daniel’s face reflected a brooding, almost sad look while he watched her. “My dad and I are visiting customers in the next county, so I guess I better get going.”

Marti turned to Apollo. “I’ll just stay here a while and get to know Apollo a little more. Maybe I can ride him sometime?”

Shaking his head immediately, Daniel firmly said, “No. He’s much too spirited for a beginner.”

“Actually, I’m not really a beginner—I just haven’t ridden in a while. I used to ride some pretty spirited horses, and Apollo and I seem to have bonded already.”

“We’ll see. Apollo has a mind of his own. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up at the falls on the back side of the farm whether you want to or not. That’s his favorite place.”

Daniel’s grin was a little bit contagious, and when Marti remembered Apollo’s stubborn streak, she grinned too.

Daniel crossed his arms and continued. “I remember once when Apollo saw a snake in the road—he reared up on his back legs and took off running. Instead of heading back to the barn, he headed straight for those falls.” Daniel laughed. “Near about threw his rider off.”

Marti choked. She leaned over double, and strangled coughs kept her airways tight until her lungs cleared. Daniel patted her on the back.

“Are you okay?”

Marti’s thoughts were running wild. It was
her
riding Apollo that day. She remembered hanging on for dear life until Daniel, who was riding Tornado, picked up the dropped reins and stopped the runaway horse. By the time she came to a stop, the falls were right in front of her.

Marti nodded as tears fell down her face. “I . . . got choked.”

Daniel stepped back with a look of unbelief in his eyes.

“I remembered something.” His voice was soft and pensive.

Marti held her breath. She stared at Daniel, a frown between her eyes and a knot in the pit of her stomach. If he remembered that ride, would he remember it was her riding?

Daniel stared at the mountains in the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he seemed to be reliving that day.

“I can see Apollo running ahead of me. I was so scared the woman . . . it was a woman . . . I was so scared she would fall off any minute. I remember pushing Tornado as fast as he would go. I grabbed Apollo’s reins . . . and turned to the rider.”

Suddenly, he stopped and turned toward her, peering deep into her eyes.

He reached out his hand and touched her on the cheek with his fingers. “What is it about you that brings my past so close to the surface of my memory?” His hand dropped, and he studied her.

Marti’s cheek burned with the memory of his touch. Her knees wobbled, and she leaned against the wooden corral. “Maybe I just remind you of someone.” Quietly, Marti’s breathing returned to normal, but her hands still felt wet with sweat.

Daniel shook his head and turned toward the barn. “It must have been Veronica.”

“Does Veronica have auburn hair?”

Daniel stared at her. “How did you know the woman had auburn hair?”

“Just a guess. You said I helped you remember in some way. I thought it might be my hair color.”

He shook his head and mumbled quietly as he turned. “No . . . Remember? Veronica has red hair. It couldn’t have been her anyway. She’s scared to death of Apollo.”

Tears threatened to fill Marti’s eyes as she watched his retreating figure.

She couldn’t take this anymore. She had to get away.

She bit her cheek to hold back the tears when Daniel stopped at the barn and turned toward her. “I have to get going. I’ll see you around.”

Marti kept her eyes averted until Daniel was out of sight. Resolutely, she led Apollo to stand beside the fence. She climbed up on the wooden railing and slid onto Apollo’s back. His head shook back and forth, and she could feel his excitement as she pushed his neck to turn him toward the pasture. Tears blurred her vision as she and Apollo galloped through the pasture as one.