A Wife in Wyoming (19 page)

Nate worked with the girls to get dinner ready. He sat down at the table with everybody else, though he didn't eat much. After cleanup, everybody settled down to watch a couple of movies Mr. Dylan had brought over. Mr. Garrett and Miss Caroline made popcorn, but Mr. Ford didn't stick around. They turned out the lights to make it seem like a real movie theater, and Nate sat at the edge of the circle around the television. Little by little, he scooted farther away, until he figured he pretty much disappeared in the dark room.

When the movie action got really loud, with gunfire and explosions and craziness that had everybody laughing, he slipped out the bunkhouse door into the night outside.

And started the run for home.

Chapter Twelve

Caroline remembered very little about the movies she'd sat through, but they'd kept the kids entertained for close to four hours, and that was what counted.

“You didn't laugh much,” Garrett pointed out as she washed out the popcorn bowls and pan. “Is romantic comedy more your style?”

“I'm a science fiction fan,” she told him. “Give me another galaxy, and I'm glued to the screen.” Tonight, though, she wouldn't have noticed if a starship had landed in the driveway. The morning with Ford was monopolizing her mind. And her heart.

“Ford likes sci-fi, too. Weird.” After he dried and put away the dishes, they stepped outside into another beautiful, starry night. “So I don't suppose you were able to change his mind when you were out this morning...er...mending fences.”

Heat rose in her throat and cheeks. “No. I didn't try. He's convinced he has to keep working. For the Circle M. For the family.”

“I'm sorry.” Garrett put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “There's nothing I can say to make it hurt less.”

She'd started to shake her head again when the bunkhouse door opened behind them. They both looked back to see Dylan standing on the threshold.

“Is Nate out here with you?”

“Not that I've noticed.” Garrett wheeled around. “He's not inside with everybody else?”

“Nope.”

Caroline's heart jumped with alarm. “Maybe he's in the house with Ford. Or Wyatt.”

But that proved to be a futile hope. Wyatt and Ford glanced up from their work as Dylan led the way into the living room. “We're looking for Nate.”

“Why would he be here?” Ford stood up. “He was at the table for dinner.”

Caroline gripped her hands together. “I handed him some popcorn when the movie started.”

“Where would he go?” Garrett scrubbed his face with his hands. “Why?”

“Check the barn,” Ford ordered on his way to the door. “Caroline, search the cabin just in case, though he won't be there. I'll go check the pasture—maybe he's out with Blue. Wyatt, would you go through the house in case he's sneaked past us? It's stupid, but we have to cover all the bases.”

They reconvened in the light from the cabin porch. “Blue's in the field,” Ford reported. “But Nate is not. So the next step is to check with the kids.”

They found the teenagers absorbed in their phones, or the television or each other, in the case of Lena and Justino.

“Listen up,” Ford said, his voice calm but commanding. “We have a problem. Does anybody know where Nate is?”

“He helped cook dinner,” Lizzie said.

“He sat beside me to eat,” was Becky's contribution. “But I didn't see him actually eat much. His plate was pretty full when he got up.”

Ford focused on Thomas and Marcos. “Anything?”

Thomas held his hands out, palms up. “I don't know nothing.” His attitude had gone back to resentful, the way it'd been when he arrived. “He doesn't, like, communicate.”

“Marcos?”

The boy didn't meet Ford's eyes. “Nah. Haven't seen him.”

“That would be the problem. Okay, thanks. Bedtime for the rest of you. Yeah, yeah,” he said, over the usual protests. “Tell me about it tomorrow when you don't want to get out of the sack.”

The girls reluctantly headed for the door. “I'll check in on you in a little while,” Caroline promised. “Don't worry, we'll find him.” She only wished she was more certain of that fact.

Thomas and Justino filed into their bedroom. Marcos simply flopped down on the couch.

Ford went to stand near the sofa. “Marcos, I need to talk to you a minute.”

Marcos didn't open his eyes. “Man, I'm beat. Can't it wait till tomorrow?”

“No, it can't. Sit up.” He waited until a reluctant Marcos got himself upright. Then he squatted down so they were eye to eye. “Where do you think Nate would go if he wanted to get away?”

“Why would I know?”

“That's right, you don't talk with him much. Nate's a quiet guy.”

“Yeah.” Marcos stared down at his hands, fidgeting in his lap. “But...well...he might've gone home. I mean, wouldn't everybody go home, if they got a chance?”

Ford didn't react. “How would he get there? Is he hitching a ride out on the road?”

“Nah, man. He's a runner, at school. He just runs into town.”

Caroline gasped. “He's done this before?”

Marcos rolled his eyes and muttered a crude word. “Yeah. He went last week one night. I heard him leave, and he came in about three hours later.”

She went to stand beside Ford. “And you threatened to report him if he didn't take over your chores.” The boy's guilty expression confirmed her theory. “Has he gone again this week?”

“Couple of times. But he always waits till everybody's asleep. So I don't have a clue what's going on tonight.”

Ford said, “Did you see his dad here this afternoon?”

“Yeah. So?”

“That's what's going on.” He straightened up, started to say something...but stopped and nodded at Caroline. “Your call,” he said. “I'll be outside.”

She waited until he and his brothers had left the bunkhouse.

Then she turned to the boy on the sofa. “Go to bed, Marcos. But first thing tomorrow morning, pack your bags. You're going home.” He protested loudly but, while she listened, Caroline didn't respond to his whines, threats or pleadings. Finally, the boy threw himself on the couch with his back to the room. End of discussion.

When she joined the Marshalls outside, Ford headed for his truck. “Garrett, let Wyatt know what's happening. Dylan, keep an eye on the boys. Caroline, you've got the girls.”

“No.” She spoke loudly and firmly.

He stopped in his tracks and whipped around. “No?”

“I'm going with you.” He started to say something, but she held up a hand. “This is my program. My kids. And so I will be there when Nate is found.”

Hands on his hips, he gazed at her. “Fine. Let's go.”

“I have to check in at the cabin first. Don't leave without me.”

The hint of a smile curved his mouth. “Yes, ma'am.”

When she returned he was already behind the wheel of the truck with the engine idling. “Everything okay?”

Caroline buckled her seat belt. “They're in bed, but not asleep. If we don't bring Nate home soon, nobody will get any rest tonight.”

They headed down the drive out of the ranch. After a couple of minutes of silence, Ford said, “You told Marcos he's going home.”

“I had to. Even though it hurts me as much as him.”

“You can't save everybody.”

Caroline sighed. “I guess not. But I still believe everybody's worth saving.”

Ford gave a rueful chuckle. “And that's why I love you, Caroline Donnelly.” He reached across the console and took her hand in his. “Let's go get your lost sheep.”

* * *

W
HEN
THEY
ARRIVED
at the Bradley trailer, all the lights were on, and the door hung open. The gray truck sat in the yard out front, with an old-model sedan nearby. Ford stopped his truck on the side of the road and gauged the situation.

“I don't suppose you would consider staying in the truck until I check things out?” He glanced at Caroline's set face. “I'm guessing that's a no.”

“Susannah knows me. Her little girl, Amber, knows me. How scared would they be if a strange man came bursting in at one o'clock in the morning?”

The sound of breaking glass came from inside the house.

“How much more scared could they be?” Ford opened his door. “At least call the sheriff's office before you come in. I suspect we'll need some help.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Walking across the yard, he could hear Travis Bradley yelling. He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that no one answered. They were just scared, he hoped.

Taking the neighborly approach, he knocked on the wall beside the sagging door. “Hey, there? Anybody home?”

Travis loomed in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nate went missing up at the ranch. We wanted to find out if he'd come home.”

“Can't keep those kids under control? Pretty damned irrepon...irresponsible, letting him just run away.” His words were slurred, his eyes glazed.

“Is Nate here?”

Bradley kicked the door open. “See for yourself.”

The room was wrecked—chairs upended, dishes and glasses shattered against the walls, the television lying screen down on the floor. Susannah Bradley was huddled in a corner, holding her daughter close to her chest. The little girl's eyes were dark and round with fear. She clutched a stuffed animal just as her mother clutched her.

Ford winced as he noted the fresh black bruise around Susannah's eye, and another along the line of her jaw. This was what had brought Nate home.

The boy stood between his mother and his father, a sapling trying to stand against heavy wind. He glanced at Ford, and his cheeks flushed—he was embarrassed that Ford saw his family in this condition.

“It's okay,” Ford told him. “We just want to be sure you're safe.”

“Why wouldn't he be?” Travis demanded. “This is his home, not that fancy ranch of yours. I take care of my family.” He reached for Nate and hauled the boy up next to him, putting a hand on his head. “Ain't that right, son?”

“S-sure.”

“We don't need no inter-interference from church do-gooders and social workers. 'Specially social workers.”

At that moment, Caroline came through the door.

Travis fisted his hand in Nate's hair. “Oh, great. The bitch is here, too.”

Ford clenched his fists. “Watch your mouth, Bradley.”

“This why you came, Miss Nosy?” He jerked Nate back and forth by the hair. “This what you're lookin' for?”

“Stop, please,” Caroline said. “Let him go, and I'll leave.”

“Figured you could mess with my family, didn't you? You think I'm not good enough, not man enough to take care of a wife and kids.” With a shove, he sent Nate slamming into the wall. “You're just like your old man—so sure you're right and everybody else is wrong. Why, I oughta—” He grabbed Caroline by one arm, raising his fist to punch her.

In that second, Ford noosed his arm around Bradley's neck, choking him until the man's hands dropped to his sides.

With his face turning a deep red, Travis scrabbled his feet, trying to break free.

Caroline put a hand on Ford's arm. “Stop, Ford! Let him go!”

He didn't move, didn't release. After a moment, though, he shook his head and loosened the clinch. But he gave Bradley a hard shake. “You're going to behave yourself?”

“Yeah,” the man whispered.

Ford thrust him away. Travis stumbled and fell to his knees, holding his throat and coughing.

“The sheriff should be here any minute,” Caroline said. “Is Nate all right?”

The boy lay crumpled against the wall. Ford knelt beside him and helped him sit up. “Everything working?” he asked.

Nate managed to nod. “I'm sorry for running off,” he said in his quiet voice. “But I couldn't protect them if I wasn't here.” His gaze went beyond Ford. “Is he gonna be arrested?”

Sheriff's Deputy Wade Daughtry stood in the doorway, eyeing the scene. “What's going on, Ford? You causing trouble again?” Daughtry had been one of Ford's few friends in high school.

“Not me, Wade. Your culprit's over there. Mr. Responsibility.”

“Right. How many times do we have to do this, Bradley? You gotta stay out of the bars, man.” With no resistance from Nate's dad, he walked Travis out of the house, toward the car with the flashing blue lights.

Caroline had coaxed Susannah to sit on the sofa with Amber in her lap. Susannah had buried her face in her daughter's curly hair. Her shoulders shook with sobs.

Nate came to put his arms around his mother. “It's okay, Mom. Mr. Ford will make it right.”

Deputy Daughtry reentered the house. “Are you going to press charges, Mrs. Bradley? I can get him on domestic violence, disturbing the peace, probably a dozen other violations.”

Susannah looked up. “Can't you just...keep him for a while?”

“No, ma'am. Not without filing charges.”

Ford squatted down in front of her. “What you should get, at the very least, is an emergency order of protection—a legal decree that your husband can't come close to you or the kids. We'll get one of those drawn up for you as soon as possible. Then we'll ask for a hearing and a permanent order to warn him off for good. You can probably keep your house, but it might be safer to go away for a few days. Do you have someone you can stay with? Family?”

She shook her head. “Nobody. Travis doesn't...make friends.” As she shook her head, the tears started to flow again. “I—I don't know what to do. I don't have a job, or a place to stay... And I sound like such a loser.”

“No, just a woman pushed too far. So here's what I propose.” He put a hand over hers. “You and Amber and Nate can come home with us tonight. We've got room for you and Amber in the house, and Nate's got a bed he should be in.” A glance at Nate got the tiniest of smiles. “I'll get the order of protection, but meanwhile you will be somewhere safe, with people taking care of you.”

“I couldn't—”

“Yes, you can,” Caroline assured her. “Nate can't keep running out in the middle of the night to check on you. This doesn't have to be a permanent arrangement, but you can take some time to get yourself together and figure out what you're going to do.”

Nate squeezed her shoulders. “It'll be okay, Mom. You can watch me ride.”

“But I can't repay you—”