Crazy Woman Creek (4 page)

With that she turned away from Luke and drew her arms through the slits in her cloak for warmth. Luke wished he could harness his horse to the wagon to shorten their time in the elements. He didn’t dare snap the reins to urge Beast along. It wouldn’t be moral to work an animal like that, even though Luke was hungry, Mrs. Rose probably was too, and surely Beast was tired. Beast. What a name. Luke called his horse, horse.

“Perhaps he said something to you before he left the house.” Luke said it like a question. He looked over at Lenora but she refused to face him.

“What were his last words to you before he left?”

While he waited for her answer, Luke could see the cold sun slipping closer to the earth in the western sky. Beast plodded along, slower now, his head hanging a little lower as time passed. Luke’s fingers were numb and his backside ached. He wondered whether following a pretty woman to her ranch made him an astute investigator or a slobbering idiot. He wasn’t a betting man, but if he were, he’d put all his money on the idiot.

“That’s our place,” said Lenora, pulling a gloved hand out of her cloak to motion to the
East, “over there.” She pointed to the silhouette of a large barn, the only structure visible in the bluish purple twilight. As if Beast understood his mistress’ words, he threw up his head and whinnied, quickening his pace a little to reach his sheltered stall and a manger full of feed.

“Mrs. Rose, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I have given you the facts of my husband’s disappearance, sir. Twice.” This time Lenora looked boldly into Luke’s eyes. “I cannot tell you more than I know, Deputy Davies, no matter how many times you and Sheriff Morris insist on inquiring.”

“Whoa!” Luke pulled on the reins abruptly to halt the wagon, and then he set the brake. To Luke the sudden quiet after so many miles in the creaking wagon made their aloneness on the empty prairie seem intimate. His heart fluttered at the knowledge.

“Why are you stopping? We’re not there yet,” said Lenora.

Luke didn’t answer. Instead he moved both leather reins to his left hand. With his right he reached for Lenora’s wrist, grabbing it tightly and jerking it toward him ever so slightly. Lenora pulled back but she might as well have pulled at the Rock of Gibraltar. Luke held firm.

“Mrs. Rose,” he said, his tone rising to match the seriousness in his eyes, “you need to understand. A jury will not let you off that easy. Your husband went missing on Saturday. You didn’t report his disappearance till Monday morning, and neither did you seek help from neighbors. That’s two days, Mrs. Rose, and I don’t think your excuses for delaying a trip to town during those critical two days add up to a hill of beans.”

Their faces were close, just inches away. Luke wished it were not like this, that he was not the investigator and she was not the suspect. For the first time the badge he had coveted for so many years felt like a constraint. It took all his concentration to keep his mind focused on his job and off her beauty. He desired her, and he knew he desired her. Luke glanced downward fleetingly, his eyes taking in her thick velvet wrap. Never mind the shapeless cape meant to conceal all. With clarity that would keep him awake at night he remembered how she looked, standing stiff and prim in the sheriff’s office, the curvy lines of her bosomy silhouette as cleanly cut as paper snowflakes at Christmas, her female form so different from his, and so very intriguing. Never before had his desire for a woman focused so keenly on any particular one. This time, the object of his male yearnings had a face and a name.

“I wager a jury will see it the same way,” he continued, still gripping her wrist. “That’s two days when your husband could be exposed to the freezing rain, dying of his injuries, or torn apart by vultures. A reasonable person, especially a man’s wife who claims she loves him, doesn’t let that happen.”

Luke saw anger building in those captivating green eyes, eyes that worked on his insides like a tornado, emotions swirling round and round, his
usual calm self beset by howling winds of concern, unease, wonderment, and many questions, not to mention physical desire—leaving him unsettled and prickly. Her presence discomfited him, an upset that had nothing to do with her fishy account of her husband’s disappearance. Above all, he hoped the swirling maelstrom that tugged at his heart and his manhood would bypass his head. He was a professional. He would act, at all times, like the disciplined gentleman he was. But this desirable, irascible damsel in distress was making him crazy.

“I came out here today to try and help you. But if you won’t be truthful with me, then there’s nothing I can do for you. Only God can help you.”
And why do I care?
 

“Here’s what you can do to help me, Mr. Lawman. Unhand me,” said Lenora, gritting her teeth. “I didn’t ask you to accompany me today. I asked only for help in finding my husband, which, I believe, is what you have sworn to do, is your duty to do, in the course of upholding the laws of Wyoming Territory.”

Luke hesitated. He searched her eyes, looking for anything, any path to her heart that he could use as an opening for the truth. It wasn’t his way to beat information out of suspects. But he could see in those determined eyes that she had snapped her heart shut, and with it, her mouth. She did not trust him.

“I meant no disrespect, ma’am,” he quietly said. He removed his grasp on her wrist and turned
back to the reins. He released the wagon brake and commanded Beast to start walking again
. Irritating woman. I would have ridden off into the black night of no return too
.

Neither of them spoke the rest of the way to the Rose ranch. Before they pulled into the yard Luke heard barking, a deep aarwhooof of a large dog, over and over again, growing louder and more frantic as the wagon drew closer. As they pulled around the corner of the house, Luke saw the source of the hullabaloo.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

“Ulysses,” was Lenora’s crisp reply.

“Distract him so I can unhitch your horse.”

“I’ll unhitch my horse myself, thank you. I hitched him up before I went to town. I’ll unhitch him now that I’ve returned. This is my ranch.”

“It may be your ranch, ma’am, but it’s in my jurisdiction.”

Lenora flinched.

“I’m going to take a look around, including the barn. Call off your dog so I can do what I need to. I want to get back to town while there’s at least a little bit of light.”
And while I’m still in control of my temper.

Lenora called to Ulysses, an enormous bullmastiff, ordering him to sit, which he did promptly, all except for his tail, which fwumped, fwumped, fwumped on the ground in a noisy display of dog anticipation. Luke jumped down from the wagon and circled to the other side to help
Lenora climb down. Ignoring his extended hand, she wrapped her skirt and layers of petticoats around her legs as best she could and clumsily jumped to the ground, coming close to pitching herself forward into the frozen mud. Luke watched her ridiculously awkward dismount and marveled at her stubbornness.

“I’ll check the outbuildings and look for anything out of the ordinary. If I see anything I’ll let you know. Otherwise I’ll be on my way,” said Luke, holding the bit strap to keep Beast from racing toward the barn on his own.

Lenora only nodded.

“I have to get back to town. Sheriff Morris is out with the others by now, looking for Mr. Rose. He’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

Lenora nodded again, standing several feet away as if the deputy had something catching.

“If I hear any news about your husband,” Luke continued, reaching for Beast’s lead line, “I’ll send word.” He tipped his hat and then jerked on the lead line to guide Beast and the wagon into the barn.

“Thank you,” she said. Then she looked down at her dog. “Supper, Ulysses.” She turned toward the house, Ulysses following close behind, tail wagging excitedly all the way. In a minute, she and Ulysses were inside, the door bolted behind them.

#

As Lenora shut the door behind her, she was instantly struck at how little comfort she felt by standing in her much-longed-for front room. All the way from town she was consumed with a desire to get home where she would feel safe, where everything was familiar and, above all, normal.

The silence startled her. Everything about the cozy ranch house looked normal. It was as she left it. So normal, in fact, that she half expected to see James step out of their bedroom any second, face freshly washed for supper, a smile on his face, a kiss for her forehead.

But James was not here, and nothing was normal. Silence was not normal. Awful and foreboding, it made the little house as unwelcoming as a dank cave. Gruesome images of James, his bloodied, lifeless body fallen somewhere in the wild, clamored to overtake her thoughts no matter how many times she willed them aside. They followed her through the bedroom, the tiny kitchen, and the lean-to as she checked every place to assure herself she was really alone.

Disappointed and deeply disturbed to see no evidence that James had returned, Lenora determined that the only logical thing to do to keep up her courage was to act like everything was fine, like everything was normal. She must not give in to her fears. She would build a fire in the cook stove to warm up the chilly kitchen and prepare something hot for supper. She wouldn’t feel so lonely with a crackling fire for company. It would make the atmosphere seem less strange too.

Soon the cook stove was putting out a little heat, making comforting popping sounds as the metal expanded. As Lenora fed the stove she listened, taut and nervous, for the sound of Deputy Davies’ horse, anxious to have him ride away from her property so she could get to the barn and perform the evening chores without an audience. He sure was taking his sweet time investigating her ranch she thought, irritably. Finally she heard the sound of the barn door bolt sliding into its frame, then the familiar sound of a horse galloping out of the yard. Within minutes the sound faded to nothing.

Once Lenora was certain that Deputy Davies was gone, she felt more acutely alone than she ever thought possible. For an instant she almost wished he had stayed. She had been rude. She should have offered him something to eat and drink before he made the long, cold trip back to Buffalo. But that would have been awkward, her being a married woman.

Blast that man! Deputy Davies shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Not only was he brash, commandeering her wagon like that, but his bold questions had humiliated her enough for a lifetime. A wave of embarrassment overflowed her afresh as she recalled how she had blubbered like a newborn all the way from town. What must he think of her? No, no, that wasn't right. Why should she care what he thought? Those two were a pair, that Morris and Davies. Lawmen indeed!

Lenora shook herself. The milk cow must be pitiably swollen by now, as it was several hours
past evening chore time. She must check on the chickens and cattle as well. James' twenty expensive Brahman steers were who-knows-where. Now that Deputy Davies was finally gone, she lit the lamp, changed hastily into a set of James’ work clothes, and calling to Ulysses, left the house to just as hastily complete the evening barn chores—James’ chores—so she could return to the safety and warmth of the ranch kitchen. She was not one to entertain fearful thoughts while alone on the ranch, but James was gone. Nothing was right. All of life had turned upside down. The world, and the ranch too, had become strange and frightening.

After sliding the heavy barn door bolt, Lenora’s first thought was that it was awfully quiet in the barn. The cow should be mooing, anxious to be relieved of its load. She hung the lamp on a nail where it couldn’t be knocked over and start a fire, and then walked to the cow’s stall. She was stunned to see the animal quietly munching fresh hay, standing in fresh, clean straw, its udder flaccid from recent milking. But where was the milk?

She walked next to Beast’s stall. Beast was noisily munching from his feed box. He had been rubbed down and was standing in clean straw too. His stall had been thoroughly mucked out and his harness set on its rack in the tack room.

Well, that was nice of him. A Southern gentleman. But he’s a rogue Southern gentleman, and with that Confederate twang, probably a cornbread-eating Southern sympathizer to boot.

Though the deputy’s meddling discomfited her, Lenora set aside her annoyance and hurried through her final chores, making sure the chickens were secure in the poultry house and that the gate enclosing the Brahmans in their corral was secure. But everything was in order there too. There was nothing for her to do, so calling to Ulysses, she grabbed the lamp and started for the house.

As she approached the porch she saw it, her milk can sitting to the side of the door. She lifted the lid to see the creamy white milk Deputy Davies had left for her. Unmoved, she picked it up and went into the house, fed Ulysses, ate a simple supper of bread and leftover soup, then undressed and shimmied into her flannel nightgown as fast as possible. The bedroom was cold! While she performed her evening routine she contemplated what she would do if James did not come back. She must hire someone, and soon. She could not care for the animals by herself now and the garden and the fields later, when the weather grew warmer and the ground became soft for planting.

But no, she shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts. It wasn’t right. James would come back, surely he would ride into their yard tomorrow, there would be explanations and tears, and they would be together again. Life would be normal again.