A Rich Man for Dry Creek / a Hero for Dry Creek (14 page)

Robert's heart sank. He had hoped the old man would tip the vanilla bottle back the minute he got it. That would give them their one good chance to get that rifle away from him.

“Jenny's heavier than she looks,” Robert offered easily.

Jenny started to sputter then realized what Robert was doing. “I guess I am pretty heavy. We burned a lot of fuel flying in from Seattle.”

Mr. Gossett snorted and pointed his rifle directly at Jenny. “Don't start giving me trouble now. I'm the one who says who is going and you're going 'cause I say you're going.”

“Of course,” Jenny said softly.

“She's not going,” Robert said flatly as he turned his body so he could shield Jenny if the old man swung that rifle around again.
Please, God, help me on this one. I'll go. I'll go gladly. But not Jenny.

“An' why not?” the old man reared up and demanded.

“The plane won't fly with her in it.” Robert said the words in his most authoritative voice hoping the nonsense would pass for truth. “We almost didn't make it into Dry Creek. Had to crash-land over by the Elkton place. Something to do with the instrument panel. One of those energy things related to chemicals in the body. Makes the instruments go haywire. Something to do with energy fields or hormones, maybe both.”

The old man snorted, but Robert could see that he wasn't sure.

“Well, if she doesn't go, she hits the ground with the two of them,” Mr. Gossett finally said.

The ground would work, Robert thought to himself. Jenny would get a little snow on herself that she'd have to brush off when the plane left, but the ground would be safer than the air.

“You two—get down on the ground.” The old man jerked his gun at Francis and Flint.

“What?” the FBI agent questioned.

Robert could see that the agent was trying to move behind the old man, but there was no way.

“It's just that the ground is frozen.” Robert stepped in. “Let them at least go sit in the pickup—or even the Jeep. There's no way they can catch us in a Jeep once we're in the air.”

Robert was starting to breathe again. Jenny would be even better in the Jeep. The heater would keep them warm and they could drive back into Dry Creek and get help. The sheriff would call over to the airports at Billings and Fargo and let them know what was happening.

“The ground. Now,” the old man insisted. “I don't have all day. I gotta get out of here.”

Francis lowered herself to the ground. The snow was not yet packed down and she sank into the few inches that covered the place where the snow had been scraped off earlier.

“You, too,” the old man ordered Flint. “I want you with your back to her—” the old man shifted his gaze to Jenny “—and you get some rope from those boxes to tie them up.”

“You're not going to leave them like that?” Robert protested. He hadn't counted on the people on the ground being tied up. That changed everything. If they were tied, they needed to be someplace warmer. “Why not just tie them up in one of the vehicles?”

Robert hadn't lived in Montana. He didn't know about the winters here. But it didn't take much knowledge of weather to realize that the two people before him could freeze to death if they were tied up out here in the open.

“What does it matter to me if they get cold?” the old man snarled. “That'll teach them to come snooping around, asking questions. Butting into a man's private life. Looking through his trash cans.”

The old man kept the rifle pointed at Jenny the whole time he ordered her to tie up Francis and Flint and then he walked with her over to the two vehicles and ordered her to pull out some wires and give them to him.

Robert didn't remind the old man that there had been any suggestion that Jenny wait with the other two on the ground instead of joining them in the air. He could tell by the expression on the FBI agent's face that the ground could be a death sentence. At least if Robert had Jenny with him in the plane, he could call some of the shots. The old man wouldn't know how to fly a plane. He would need Robert's cooperation.

Robert kept reminding the old man that a plane did not fly itself the whole time the three of them were preparing to take off from the makeshift runway on that cow pasture just north of Dry Creek.

“You can put the gun away,” Robert repeated. He had started the engines and was checking out the instrument panel. “No one's going to sneak up on you when you're inside here.”

The old man was crouched in the baggage compartment of the plane. Jenny was strapped into the copilot's seat and Robert was in his own place. The man had kept the rifle pointed at Jenny.

The sound of the engine was a constant background noise as Robert maneuvered the small plane for takeoff.

Robert was almost ready to turn around to begin the take off when they all heard it.

The cell phone was ringing.

Robert looked at Jenny. The cell phone was in the pocket of her parka. “Let it ring.”

The old man shifted the rifle in his hands. “Give it to me. I'll decide who answers what.”

Jenny nodded as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small black phone. “It's probably just a wrong number.”

The old man grunted as he took the phone and looked at it. The phone rang again in his hand and he studied the phone for a moment before he pressed the button to receive the call. “Hello?”

J
enny held her breath as though she could will her sister to hang up when she heard a strange man's voice.
Lord, let her know it's trouble.

“Yes,” Mr. Gossett answered hesitantly. “He's here, but he's busy.”

Jenny looked over at Robert. He was glancing back at Mr. Gossett by looking at the old man's reflection in the instrument panel. It was close to freezing inside the cockpit of the small plane and yet Robert had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Jenny felt the coldness in her bones one minute and she flashed hot the next. The shoulder strap of the seat belt dug into her arm when she turned to look at Mr. Gossett.

The old man was concentrating on the phone, but he still had the rifle angled at Jenny. He frowned like he was arguing with someone. “Can't it wait? He's busy right now.”

Robert moved his hand slightly to turn one of the knobs on the instrument panel. He looked over at Jenny. “I'm sorry I got you into this.”

“You?” Jenny looked at him in astonishment. “What did you do?”

“If I wasn't so intent on impressing you with the fact that I could give you anything, we wouldn't have been out at the plane this morning. We would have been in church like Mrs. Hargrove would want.”

“Mrs. Hargrove thought it was great that you were giving me a surprise.”

“She thought I was going to show you a rock.”

“Well, still—you couldn't have known what would happen.”

The old man interrupted their conversation by thrusting the black cell phone up front. “This woman says she needs to talk to you—claims she's a saleswoman for some big pudding company. I've been trying to tell her you're busy.”

Robert looked over at Jenny as he took the phone from the old man.

“Hello, Robert Buckwalter speaking.” Robert put the phone to his ear.

Jenny hoped her sister would take the hint from the formality in Robert's voice that they were in a serious situation.

Jenny twisted her neck so she could look back at the old man. She'd hoped he'd relaxed some. He hadn't. He had the rifle angled toward her and his eyes were suspicious.

“Sorry about the phone call,” Jenny said. She kept her voice calm and low. She thought that if she talked to the old man it would mask any conversation Robert was having with her sister. Maybe he could slip her a hint about their situation.

“Fool things—them portable phones.”

“Yes, I suppose they are,” Jenny agreed.

Jenny heard Robert talking about an order for chocolate pudding. Apparently the old man did as well because he relaxed somewhat.

“Those salesmen—they'll find you anyplace you go,” the old man grumbled. “There's no peace anywhere.”

“It does seem that way.” Jenny wondered what salesmen had had the nerve to call at Mr. Gossett's home.

“That's what's wrong with the world—all this buy, buy, buy…” The old man's voice trailed off.

“No, I can't place an order now. I'm getting ready to fly my plane—delicate cargo.” Robert's conversation filled in the gap in the old man's complaining.

“Did you need more money?” Jenny frantically tried to keep her conversation with the old man alive so that he would not be listening to Robert just in case Robert was fool enough to mention anything concrete about the danger they were in.

“Me?” Mr. Gossett seemed startled. “Why would I need more money?”

The old man was starting to look at Robert suspiciously. At the moment, Robert was talking about the number of calories in a cup of pudding.

“But then why did you do it?” Jenny knew it was a gamble, but the question pulled the old man's attention back to her. She hoped her sister could decode whatever message Robert was giving her. “The rustling. Why did you tip them off about the cattle?”

“Dry Creek owed it to me,” Mr. Gossett said. “They owed it to my family. My father founded Dry Creek, you know. Wouldn't be no town without him.”

“You must have been very proud.”

“I wasn't proud. I wasn't nothing,” the old man grumbled, and then turned to Robert. “You're done talking to that saleswoman. It's time for us to get out of here.”

“Yes, the delivery is important,” Robert said into the phone. “I expect the pudding to be there when I arrive at two o'clock.”

“An' I expect you to hang up when I say hang up,” the old man said nastily.

Robert put the phone into a cradle in the instrument panel. Jenny was surprised. She hadn't realized it was the plane's cell phone they had been using since their arrival in Dry Creek.

“The pudding will be ready when we get there,” Robert said to Jenny quietly as he adjusted a few knobs on the instrument panel.

“Ah—” Jenny gave a small barely audible gasp when she saw that the cell phone's light was still lit. The phone was still on. Her sister could still hear everything. Jenny quickly coughed to cover her slip.

Now that Jenny thought about it, Robert had received a phone call when they were flying in from Seattle. He had explained that he had some kind of satellite reception capability in the plane's system. No wonder that cell phone worked in Dry Creek when her own personal one didn't.

“You sure do set an unnatural store by that pudding of yours,” the old man grumbled. “In my day, we used to make our own pudding. Real milk and cream. Butter. Flour. None of this prepackaged stuff they feed you today.”

“We're ready for takeoff,” Robert said and then looked toward the back of the plane. “You might want to lay your rifle down, Mr. Gossett, for the ascent portion of the takeoff. Change in cabin pressure and everything. Jenny here's going to start feeling like she's your hostage.”

“She is my hostage—thought I said that before,” the old man insisted.

“Well, it's a long ride to Fargo,” Robert continued easily. “No point in having your rifle out all that time. Nobody here's going anywhere until we land this plane at the airport there anyway.”

“Thanks, but I'll keep the rifle ready if you don't mind. I don't aim to be no fool.”

“Of course not,” Robert agreed easily as he started to move the levers and buttons on his panel. Several clicks followed each other.

“Not that I'm not thankful that you haven't shot your rifle at anyone,” Jenny clarified for her sister. She wanted her sister to alert the authorities, but not worry their mother.

Robert grunted a warning. Jenny knew the warning was for her although she suspected Mr. Gossett might think it was for him. She was right.

“I aim to be comfortable on this trip,” the old man said defiantly. “That means keeping my rifle pointed where I want it pointed.”

“Of course,” Robert said smoothly.

Jenny felt the small plane start to rise.

The plane rose in the air gracefully. They were up a hundred feet when Robert banked slightly as though waving to the two people on the ground. Jenny looked down and watched the figures of Flint and Francis grow smaller.

Be with them, Father.
Jenny prayed.
Send them someone. And in the meantime, keep them warm.

If it had been another morning, Jenny would revel in the plane flight. Robert rose high enough that they were flying just under the gray clouds. It was like flying through the underside of a cotton ball. Strings of gray swirled around the plane, but visibility was never gone.

“At least we have heat up here,” Robert said as he pushed a lever and the flow of warm air increased. Robert turned his neck slightly so he could see the old man in the cargo area. “Warm enough for you back there?”

The old man snorted. “You can't fool me.”

Jenny's heart froze. The old man must suspect the telephone was still working.

“You've got plenty of heat,” the old man continued talking. “I see it on the gauge there. No need to be skimpy with the heat. Don't let it hang down there at sixty degrees. Crank it up. Remember us old folks feel the cold more than you young ones. And don't be thinking you can pull anything over on me. I'm watching.”

“Of course,” Robert said once again. “Just sit back and pretend you don't have anything to worry about.”

The old man snorted. “Got me plenty to worry about. I've figured that one out.”

“If any of your troubles are related to money, I've got plenty that you're welcome to have if we get landed safe and sound.” Robert had seldom laid down such an obvious bribe.

“Don't tell him you're rich,” Jenny whispered softly. “He'll keep us for ransom.”

Robert laughed. “I think he already knows by now I'm rich. Not many poor people have their own planes.”

“Yeah, that ransom bit though, that's not a bad idea,” the old man said gleefully from the back of the plane. “I had to leave all the money I got from those rustlers back home. Didn't have time to dig it up now that the ground's frozen.”

“You had it buried!” Jenny turned around to look at the old man. He was huddled against the wall of the plane, hugging the barrel of his rifle. “Why?”

“You never know who's watching,” he said indignantly. “I didn't want one of my neighbors to rob me!”

“Robbed in Dry Creek? By who?”

“I've got my enemies there. You can be sure. But you youngsters wouldn't know about things like that. How everything gets tangled up when you live with the same folks for seventy-some years,” the old man said stubbornly.

“But surely they wouldn't rob you.”

“They would if they could. But I'm too smart for them. I know how to take care of my money.” The old man took a deep breath. “And I'll be thinking of what money I'll need for a ransom for our friend here.” Mr. Gossett jerked his head toward Robert. “Being a rich man, he'll be worth a penny or two.”

“And Jenny, too.” Robert looked into the rearview mirror, which showed him the back of the plane. “I'll pay a good amount for her, too.”

Robert could see the protest grow on Jenny's face, but he continued. “My only condition is the obvious one.”

“What?” the old man demanded.

“We need to both be safe and free. She and I—we're together in this. You hurt her, you've hurt me. If you're going to hurt anyone, it's me. If you harm a single hair on her head, the only thing you get from me is a lifetime of trouble.”

The old man grunted. “You lovebirds. If I'd have known it was like that, I'd have brought the FBI agent instead.”

The air inside the small plane was overly warm now. Jenny felt sweat in her palms. “We're not lovebirds.”

The old man grunted. “Don't make me no never mind if you are. I was young once. I know what it's like to love someone.” He focused on the back of Robert's neck. “How much money you figure your lady friend here is worth?”

“You're welcome to every penny I have if you keep her safe.”

“Don't suppose you know what time it is?” the old man said suddenly, and leaned forward to look at the instrument panel. “Hey, what are all those gadgets?”

Jenny scrambled for something to say. She didn't know if Mr. Gossett would realize the significance of that little red light on the cell phone or not.

“I thought you said you didn't help the rustlers because of the money,” Jenny reminded the man boldly.

Her distraction worked. He reared back from his squatting position indignantly. “I always believe in getting my due from people—and Dry Creek owed me and my family. It was time they paid and paid up good.”

Robert made some adjustments to the altitude. Not much, but it would be enough to make the old man sit back down.

“Sorry,” Robert said smoothly as the plane dipped a little. “Must be some turbulence. It'd be a good idea to slip one of those seat belts on back there. Keep you from bouncing around.”

“There wasn't much wind earlier,” Mr. Gossett said suspiciously.

“From the looks of it, there's a blizzard coming in,” Robert cautioned the man. He didn't add that the blizzard appeared to be twenty hours away. They'd be safely landed somewhere by then. He only had fuel left for four hours.

“But where will I go in a blizzard?” Mr. Gossett asked quietly from the back seat. He had belted himself into one of the side seats. “I can't go back home.”

“I'm sure there's a hotel,” Jenny comforted the man. “Just ask the desk at the airport. They'll tell you how to get a cab to a hotel.”

“I've never been to a big city before.”

“Fargo's not that big,” Robert stated clearly. “You'll see when we fly within range of it in an hour and—” Robert looked down at his watch “—thirty-five minutes. And, oh, by the way, my watch reads one-fifteen.”

“Mrs. Hargrove would have brought my Sunday plate over by now,” the old man mumbled wearily. “Probably that meat loaf of hers. I love that meat loaf. And maybe some mashed potatoes.”