Forbidden Entry (10 page)

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Authors: Sylvia Nobel

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Arizona, #Sylvia, #Nobel, #Nite, #Owl, #Southwest, #desert, #Reporter, #Forbidden, #Entry, #Deadly, #Sanctuary, #Horse, #Ranch, #Rancher, #Kendall O'Dell, #Teens, #Twens, #Cactus, #Detective

BOOK: Forbidden Entry
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Tally's eyes flashed with annoyance and Jake intervened with a stern, “Best simmer down now, young fella.”

Looking sheepish, Sean immediately slowed to a walk behind my mother. “Son-of-a-bitch that was fun,” he crowed, jamming the hat back on his head.

I teased him for being a show-off as Jake eased up enough to allow Sean to cut in behind me. We rode on in companionable silence watching the sun's slow journey towards the molten amber horizon. We were only about ten minutes from the ranch when Sheba, usually gentle and mellow, suddenly kicked up her heels and lunged sideways, almost unseating my mother, who lost her hat, panicked and dropped the reins. Before any of us could react, the palomino neighed loudly and bolted across the desert with my mother hanging onto the pommel for dear life and my dad shouting, “Alana! Hold on!”

Icy fear stabbed my heart like a knife as her horrified screams filled the air.

CHAPTER

8

We all sat frozen in open-mouthed indecision for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was mere seconds before Tally sprang into action. Spurring Geronimo hard, he thundered after Sheba, swiftly closing the distance between them. And then, in a move reminiscent of countless old western movies, he reached out, wrapped one arm around my mother's waist and scooped her onto his saddle while he simultaneously slid off it onto the horse's rear. Sheba kept kicking and bucking as Jake rode up beside her and somehow managed to grab the reins.

“Holy shit!” Sean gasped, goggle-eyed. “That was epic!”

Released from my fear-induced paralysis, I kneed Starlight Sky towards Tally, my adrenalin-charged heart pounding furiously. “Mom, are you all right?” I shouted, riding along side him, both relieved and grateful.

Shaken and disoriented, she replied, “I think so,” then turned to look up at Tally with newfound admiration shining in her eyes. “Thank you so much,” she added in a tremulous voice.

“Yes, thank you,” I chimed in, beaming him an affectionate smile and wondering if he had any idea how much I loved him at this moment. “That was nothing short of miraculous.”

“All in a day's work,” he said, keeping his tone light. But when we locked eyes, the intense light in his told the true story of how grave the situation could have been. My heart contracted painfully at the thought of her being thrown from a runaway horse and badly hurt or killed. “What's the story with Sheba?” I asked. “She's never done anything like this before.”

“Don't know,” he answered in a distracted tone, watching Jake dismount and attempt to soothe the agitated animal just as my dad and Sean rode up beside us.

“Alana, are you hurt?” my dad inquired in an anxious tone as Sean echoed his concerns. Once they were convinced that she was okay, Dad exclaimed to Tally, “Young man, that was an outstanding feat of horsemanship.”

Tally tapped the brim of his hat just as Jake whistled and beckoned him to come. We all rode the short distance together and found Sheba standing still, calmly swishing her tail as if nothing had happened. Jake held up his pocket comb with something in it. “She had a couple cholla balls wedged under the blanket.”

“Ouch. No wonder she went ape shit,” Sean muttered. He darted me a strange look that I interpreted as guilt as I dismounted to retrieve my mother's hat and return it to her. Was he blaming himself for the horse's odd behavior? I had to admit that it was possible. Apache may have kicked up the offending spikey cactus balls during his little rodeo act earlier. Just to be safe, Tally decided against putting my mother back on Sheba and as we all rode into the corral, the postcard skyline glowed like a halo of fire—quickly fading from brilliant shades of iridescent copper to fiery scarlet-orange as the sun winked out behind the darkened mountains.

Jake insisted on tending to the horses himself and assured us he'd join us all later. My mother fretted that she should have brought a change of clothing so she wouldn't smell like ‘horse.' Looking amused, Tally assured her that since everything around us smelled like horses no one would notice. Then he grabbed my hand, and when we rounded the corner of the barn, I gaped in surprise at the sight of the big tent blazing with light and packed with rows of tables and chairs. Several ranch hands scurried here and there, taking instructions from Ronda who stood in the soft reddish glow of a tall propane heater. The fiddle and guitar players were warming up on the bandstand and the pungent odor of burning mesquite wood permeated the air. Sparkling string lights draped over the palo verde trees and cactus gave the usually empty clearing a carnival-like ambiance. “Tally!” I exclaimed, squeezing his hand, “What an amazing transformation! You guys have really outdone yourselves!” It was obvious he'd spared no expense and my throat tightened with appreciation.

When everyone chimed in, echoing my sentiments, Tally grinned with pleasure, then said, “Let's head over to the house so everybody can wash up and then we'll get this party started.”

My parents were still marveling at the idea that an outdoor party was even possible during the month of December when the first guests began to arrive. When we reached the front door, Tally and I paused to trade an anxious look. I knew we were thinking the same thing. “Might as well get it over with,” he whispered in my ear as we entered the warm kitchen, which bustled with activity. Gloria, the family's treasured Hispanic housekeeper, and her younger sisters, Moya and Brisa, greeted us with genial smiles. Stomach
clenched nervously, I looked around for Ruth, but she was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't decide whether I was disappointed or relieved.

“Oh, my goodness! Will you look at this!” my mother marveled, staring in disbelief at the long kitchen table overflowing with plates of appetizers, bowls of tossed greens, potato and macaroni salads, cowboy beans, huge trays of marinating ribs, steaks and chicken plus an impressive variety of pies, sheet cakes and several platters of cookies.

Overcome by the divine aroma and array of mouth-watering dishes spread out before me, I couldn't resist sampling a few bites as Tally made the round of introductions and then escorted my family to the back of the house to freshen up. He returned moments later, gave me a quick kiss and headed for the door, saying he'd see me later. I was washing my hands in the kitchen sink when Ronda breezed in moments later, looking more dressed up than I'd ever seen her, all decked out in black jeans, gold-fringed shirt and black vest. When I complimented her on the outfit and praised her organizational skills her normally sullen expression brightened perceptibly. After she had given instructions to the staff on where to transport the food, I ventured, “So, ah, where is your mother?”

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Probably still holed up in her room. She's been sort of belligerent all day.”

“About what?”

“The barbeque. She's been bitching about all the commotion and stuff. I guess it's stressing her out.”

My jaw tightened. “So, I gather the new medication isn't working.”

“It might if she'd take it once in a while.”

Great. Was it really too much to ask that just this one time she come out of her room, or smoking lair, as I called it, and act like a normal human being for a few hours? Spiteful old bitch.

Ronda's cell phone rang and she put it to her ear, listened intently, then said, “Okay, be right out,” shoved it in her back pocket, grabbed up a covered dish and called over her shoulder smiling, “Lucy's here with her yummy biscuits,” before rushing outside.

Lucinda was bringing biscuits? That frosted me.

“All this fresh air has fired up my appetite!” my dad announced with a winning smile, clomping back into the kitchen with my mom and Sean close behind. “I'm so hungry, I could eat an entire cow right now.”

With effort, I suppressed my aggravation and put on a happy face. “I think that can be arranged.”

Outside in the cold night air once more, we were
caught up in the festive atmosphere, listening to foot-stomping country music and lively conversations as we threaded our way through the crowd of guests. It seemed as though I'd introduced them to half the townspeople and a fair number of neighboring ranch owners by the time we got to the bar and ordered margaritas from Ginger's boyfriend, Doug, who was bartending. I wanted to ask him how she was doing, but could tell he was too busy to talk. Sudden guilt grabbed me. Damn! I still hadn't had time to call her. Instead, I sent her a quick text telling her I was thinking about her and would talk to her soon.

Sean opted for beer and within minutes, had hooked up with Jim Sykes and his girlfriend Sheryl, plus several other men and a couple of young women I didn't recognize. As I helped myself to chicken wings, I noticed that the Hinkle twins, well known in the community as troublemakers, had also joined Sean's group. Meanwhile, Morton Tuggs and his wife Mary arrived and were soon engaged in an animated discussion with my parents regarding all the sightseeing destinations we planned to visit.

The smoky air was thick with the delicious aroma of grilling steaks by the time I finished my second drink and had a nice buzz going. My earlier irritation had all but vanished when I heard a familiar throaty laugh behind me. Turning my head, I spotted Lucinda talking with Tally and standing waaaay too close. Her hot pink western shirt, unbuttoned practically to her waist, blazed with what looked like a gazillion rhinestones and her cream-colored jeans were so tight they looked like they'd been sprayed on. In fact, they were so snug no one could possibly question her gender. Her blatantly flirtatious behavior spawned a sudden rush of jealousy. What a total slut!

The tap on my shoulder made me flinch. “Kendall, how are you, my dear?” Still fuming, I dragged my gaze away and swung around to see Walter Zipp's hefty wife smiling at me with her great, big rabbit teeth. “Oh hi, Lavelle. I'm…just…perfect.”

“Well, that's good. Listen, Walter wanted me to give you his apology for not being here tonight,” she announced, gripping a platter of food piled in a dangerously high pyramid. “He was feeling so rotten he came home from work an hour early and he's been either in bed or in the bathroom ever since.”

That didn't sound promising. “Sorry to hear that. Did you call Dr. Garcia?”

She popped a cherry tomato into her mouth and chewed. “Yes, he phoned something in to the drug store, but I can't get it until they open tomorrow morning.”

My spirits wilted. “I see. Well, tell him I hope he feels better soon.” And what if he didn't? Tugg was going to be in one a hell of a mess next week. Could the timing possibly be worse? “Thanks for coming, Lavelle. I hope you enjoy yourself anyway.”

“Oh, I intend to. This is quite a party! Oh, hey there, Mavis!” she shouted over the music to an elderly, white-haired woman waving to her. She excused herself, waddled away, miraculously balancing the tower of food, and left me standing there wondering if I should mention her news to Tugg, who was engaged in lively conversation with my parents and two other couples. No. I'd wait. Walter might be fine by Monday. Why worry him unnecessarily?

I looked around again and Tally was no longer there. Relief flowed through me at the sight of Vernon leading Lucinda onto the dance floor where her suggestive moves captured the attention of every man, while the women glared daggers at her. I had to smile. At least I wasn't the only one who found her conduct thoroughly distasteful.

I went in search of Tally and bumped into Ronda carrying a tray of biscuits. “I got Ma to come out,” she informed me, inclining her head towards the big canopy. “She's in there having supper with Dot.”

I pulled a blank. “Dot?”

“You know her,” she explained with an impatient sigh. “You met her right here at the barbeque last summer.” I must have still looked blank because she added, “She brought all those great apple pies everyone raved about, remember? I think you ate three pieces.”

“Oh, yes!” I remembered the melt-in-your mouth pies and also that the woman's face was so incredibly sun-weathered it looked like a wrinkled old work glove. “Thanks, Ronda.”

She started to walk away and then swiveled around. “If you still want her to meet your family, I'd suggest getting over there before she has any more to drink.”

I frowned at her. “Really? Should she be mixing booze with prescription drugs?”

“Hey, I don't have time to babysit her tonight. I'm just telling it like it is.” With that, she hurried away as I pulled out my cell phone to dial Tally's number. It was vital that he be present to act as a referee should any problems arise. His number rang and rang and went to voicemail. Why wasn't he answering? Did he even have his phone turned on?

I left him a terse message asking him to please be there for the long-awaited, long-dreaded introduction to Ruth and then went looking for my folks. It took me several minutes to locate them and they had no idea where Sean was, so I sent him a text as well. After promising Tugg and Mary that we'd catch up with them later, I escorted my parents towards the big tent. Once inside, we worked our way between the tables crowded with families eating, drinking and generally having a great time. We had to stop repeatedly for more introductions. Another ten minutes passed before I noticed Ruth seated at a small table in the furthest corner, deep in conversation with Dot Mullen. I took a measured breath. Show time! The closer we got, the more my agitation increased. Apparently meeting my family was so unimportant that not only had Ruth declined to dress for the occasion, she had not even bothered to comb her stringy, oily-looking salt and pepper hair. In fact, she looked like she'd just crawled out of a dumpster. Dressed in her usual ratty, old sheepskin coat, faded jeans and scuffed boots, she had a cigarette going and a drink in her hand. She was facing away from me and I was poised to call her name when she stated in a loud voice, “All I can say is I hope my son has better luck with this redhead than the last one. That dumb bitch was a huge pain in the ass and this one isn't much of an improvement.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dot asked, just seconds before she spotted me.

“I asked her to do me one tiny favor and what does she do? Runs around all over town spilling the family secrets and spreading vicious lies to try and ruin my good reputation.”

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