Jake (25 page)

Cory shook his head.

“Try this one on.” Jake removed a smaller version of his hat. “This used to be mine before I outgrew it.”

Cory ran the hat around and around in his hands, noting the sweat stains, the grass stains, the stains from past rains and snows. He noticed something shiny stuck in the hatband. “What’s this?” He held up a sharp blue-and-gold veined stone.

“Hey, my lucky stone.” Jake accepted it from his hand and turned it over and over, holding it up to the light.

“Why is it lucky?”

Jake shrugged. “Darned if I can remember now. But I always called it my lucky stone. You want it?”

“You mean it?” Cory studied the stone before placing it back in the band. When he set the hat on his head, he caught a glimpse of himself in the window.

His brows shot up. “You sure you want me to have it?”

“I’m sure.”

As Jake started out the door, Cory stood a little taller as he followed him to the truck.

Meg stepped out the door before the truck came to a stop. It was clear that she’d been watching for them.

“Hey. ’Morning, Cory.” She took note of his hat as he stepped out to allow her to sit in the middle.

“’Morning.” He hauled himself up beside her and closed the door before fastening his seat belt.

Jake closed a big hand over hers before putting the truck in gear and heading back toward the highway. He adjusted his sunglasses. “Cory and I beat Quinn and Josh at our barn chores this morning.”

“Was it a contest?” Meg asked.

Jake shrugged. “When you’ve got older brothers, all of life is a contest. Isn’t that right, Cory?”

The boy nodded.

Meg smiled. “I wouldn’t know. I never had an older sibling.” She took in a breath and decided to follow Jake’s lighthearted lead. “But now I have a younger brother.” She stared pointedly at Cory. “I like your hat. Where’d you get it?”

“It’s one of Jake’s.” His smile glowed.

Meg shot a sideways glance at Jake. “I guess every cowboy’s got to have a hat.”

“You bet. It’s the law here in Wyoming.”

All three of them laughed.

Meg watched the passing scenery. “How long do you intend to stay in town?”

“I’m just picking up a few supplies. But I can stay as long as I please. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Just to Judge Bolton’s office. I called ahead for an appointment. It shouldn’t take me long.”

As they drove along the main street, Jake pulled up in front of the courthouse. “Why don’t you go ahead and take care of your business with Kirby. I’ll head on over to Homer’s Grain and Seed and be back to pick you up in an hour.”

Jake turned to Cory. “You want to go with Meg or stay with me?”

“I’ll stay with you.” Cory stepped out and held the door for Meg.

“No surprise,” she said with a laugh.

Minutes later the truck was rolling toward the paint and hardware store at the end of the street.

Meg watched as Kirby Bolton, fresh from a morning court session, removed his judicial robes and pulled on a suit jacket before taking a seat behind his desk.

“Now, Meg, what can I do for you?”

She leaned forward in her chair. “Last night I spent some time going over my father’s ledgers. I have a question about what I believe was his last payout. It was dated the day before his death, but it doesn’t follow the same pattern as the others, although it could be because he was already suffering the heart attack that later took his life.”

The judge studied her with interest. “What makes you think that?”

“His handwriting was really shaky. Barely legible. And he didn’t record a check number.”

“Maybe he paid in cash.”

“That thought crossed my mind. But why? Wouldn’t it have been simpler for him to mail a check than to withdraw cash from the bank and then pay his bill?”

“It was his custom to keep some cash at home to pay small bills.”

“I couldn’t tell if the amount he wrote was a hundred dollars or a thousand.”

Kirby smiled. “Porter was full of contradictions. He may have considered a thousand dollars his mad money. But I can’t think of anything worth a thousand dollars that he’d have purchased lately. I’m sure it was probably more like a hundred. Maybe even ten dollars.”

Meg returned his smile, hoping he was right. “I guess the simplest way to check this out would be to see his latest bank receipts.”

Kirby nodded. “I’ll call Roxanne over at the bank, and ask her to have your father’s bank records available when you get there.”

Meg got to her feet. “Thank you, Judge.”

“It’s Kirby.” He offered his hand.

She accepted his handshake. “Thank you, Kirby.”

He looked up at her before withdrawing his hand. “Any more problems with that mysterious intruder?”

“No. And I spent the night alone at the ranch, just to prove that I wasn’t going to be intimidated.”

“Good for you, Meg.”

She flushed. “What I didn’t know was that Jake Conway spent the night in his truck parked alongside my back porch. I’m sure if the intruder planned any trouble, the sight of Jake would have sent him running.”

Kirby threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Good for Jake. I know one thing. There aren’t many in this town who’d be willing to stand up to him. If I ever found myself in a knock-down, drag-out brawl, I’d want Jake Conway watching my back.”

Meg thought about the judge’s words as she left his office and crossed the narrow street to the Paintbrush Bank, where a smiling young woman greeted her.

“Miss Stanford, I’m Roxanne Fisher. Judge Bolton asked that I have your father’s latest deposit and withdrawal records ready. If you’ll follow me.”

Meg was led into one of the glass-walled offices.

Roxanne pointed to the desk. “I think that’s everything you need, but if you have any questions, please let me know.”

The young woman closed the door behind her and left Meg with photocopies of the latest checks cashed and a record of all her father’s deposits and withdrawals for the past month.

By the time Meg left the bank, she had checked every amount against her father’s handwritten ledger. All the checks had been accounted for. That served as further proof that the amount in question must have been paid in cash. And he had made a withdrawal of exactly a thousand dollars on the day he died.

She felt more frustrated than ever. Because of his barely legible record, she had no way of knowing the recipient or the reason for the payment.

It was probably of no consequence whatever. But the fact that it appeared to be for a very significant amount, and it was one of her father’s last acts before his death, made it feel important in Meg’s eyes. She had a sudden yearning to learn everything she could about the father she’d been denied.

Meg stepped out of the little shop called Odds N Ends. The words of the sign had always made her smile, even when she was just a girl.

It read: If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.

Of course, they’d had everything she needed. She held a shopping bag brimming with fresh underthings, a pair of simple, lightweight pajamas, a couple of T-shirts, as well as toothpaste and shampoo, since she’d brought only sample sizes, thinking she’d be here for a week.

Jake’s truck rolled to a stop at the curb, and he lowered the window to call, “Hey, pretty lady. You need a ride?”

She laughed as she walked up to the truck. “Thanks. I’m awfully picky. I only accept rides from handsome strangers.”

Jake gave an exaggerated nudge with his elbow to Cory’s ribs. “Hear that? She thinks we’re handsome.”

Cory was grinning as he opened the door and stepped out to allow Meg to climb in.

Jake glanced at the shopping bag. “Find what you were looking for?”

She nodded. “I wasn’t planning on staying this long. I needed a few things. As for what I was looking for at Kirby Bolton’s office, I wasn’t as lucky. He sent me to the bank, but there’s no record of a check. That means that my father paid in cash. Since the bank shows a withdrawal of a thousand dollars, I know the amount, but not the recipient.”

Jake whistled. “A thousand’s not petty cash.”

Meg nodded her agreement.

Jake pointed up the street. “How about some lunch at Flora’s Diner before we head back? Lifting all those sacks gave me an appetite.”

Meg glanced over her shoulder at the back of the truck filled with grain sacks. She had a quick image of Jake, muscles straining, as he hoisted each sack before tossing it neatly in the bed of the truck.

His arm muscles were clearly visible beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “I think I could eat something.” Meg turned. “How about you, Cory?”

The boy shrugged. “I guess.”

“It’s settled.” Jake put the truck in gear, and they rolled along the main street until they parked in front of the diner.

The lunch crowd was already inside, filling every table. That left only the stools at the counter. Jake led the way, and he and Meg and Cory perched on the shiny red stools and breathed in the wonderful aroma of onions on the grill, and the pungent smell of ground beef simmering in spices, prominently featured on Flora’s sign listing the specials of the day.

Flora looked up from her grill behind the pass-through and shot Jake a wide smile as she emerged, wiping her hands on her wide, white apron. “Hey, handsome. You and the world-famous counselor are turning into regulars.”

“World-famous?” Jake chuckled. “Where’d you hear that juicy gossip?”

“Oh, I hear things. A little bit here, a little bit there. Word around town is that Porter Stanford’s daughter turned herself into a first-class, bona fide celebrity lawyer.” She leaned her elbows on the counter to peer directly at Meg. “Wouldn’t your daddy have loved knowing his little girl put a murderer behind bars?”

Before Meg could respond she added, “And wouldn’t he love seeing his daughter and son hanging out together here in Paintbrush?”

With a laugh she tousled Cory’s shaggy hair. “Too bad you didn’t get your daddy’s red hair like Meg here. But I’ve always thought you looked more like your mama than your daddy.”

The boy blushed clear to the tips of his ears.

Flora turned away to say to Jake, “Our special today is my red-hot chili. Want to give it a try?”

“Why not?” He winked at Meg. “Want to take a walk on the wild side?”

She shook her head. “Not a chance. I’m having my usual. Burger and chocolate shake.”

Jake looked across Meg to Cory. “You going to risk Flora’s red-hot chili? Or wimp out with a burger and shake?”

The boy shrugged. “I’ll have what Meg’s having.”

Flora shot a grin at Jake. “I could have told you. Blood’s thicker than water.”

“What does that mean?” the boy asked.

“It means that nine times out of ten, family will choose to stand with family over friends. Or,” Jake added with a grin, “it could mean that you and Meg, coming from the same bloodline, share the same taste buds.”

While Flora disappeared behind the pass-through to begin making their lunch, Cory ducked his head and stared hard at the old plastic menu.

Dora waddled over and set down three glasses of water. “Anything else to drink here?”

“Coffee,” Jake said. “Thanks, Dora.”

A short time later he dug into his bowl of chili while Meg and Cory enjoyed their hamburgers and chocolate shakes.

By the time they finished, the lunch crowd had thinned considerably, with only a couple of stragglers left at a few of the tables.

Flora came out from behind her grill to help herself to a tall glass of ice water. Wiping her forehead with the hem of her apron she paused at the counter.

“The talk around town is that you’ve put a halt to any auctions. Does that mean you’re thinking of running the ranch yourself, counselor?”

Meg laughed. “I’ve only been here a couple of days, and already the gossip has me pegged as a world-famous lawyer and a magician.”

Flora arched a brow. “Magician?”

“I’d need to be a magician to take over my father’s ranch by myself.”

Flora shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know. You’ve got Yancy Jessup wrangling your herds. They don’t come better. And you’ve got the Conway family right next door.” She added in a stage whisper, “From the looks of Jake here, he could be roped, hog-tied, and branded without putting up much of a fight. He’d make a fine addition to your holdings.”

Meg and Jake joined Flora in the good-natured laughter.

Before Flora could walk away Meg caught her hand. “The last time I was in here, you mentioned how my father often paid someone’s bill, or surprised someone who needed help. Did you happen to hear of such a thing just before he died?”

Flora considered the question before shaking her head. “Sorry. I haven’t heard of a thing lately. Why?”

Meg swallowed her disappointment. Flora had been her last resort. “Dad recorded a sum of money in his ledger on the day before his death. There was no check written on that date, so it must have been a cash payment, and I was hoping he did it for someone here in town who could confirm the payment.”

“He didn’t record the name of the person he paid?”

Meg nodded. “Actually, he wrote some initials. But his writing is so shaky, it isn’t legible.” She shrugged. “It isn’t really important. Being a lawyer, I guess I just have this need to have all the loose ends tied up.”

“If I hear about of anybody in town who received a helping hand from a mysterious benefactor around the time of your daddy’s passing, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Thanks, Flora.” Meg smiled as the old woman returned to her grill.

While Jake paid the bill, Meg glanced toward Cory, but the boy was busy setting aside his half-eaten burger.

“You didn’t like it?” she asked.

He avoided her eyes. “Not hungry, I guess.”

Meg touched a hand to his forehead, pretending to check for a fever. “Well, you don’t feel too hot. But I’ve never heard of a seven-year-old who couldn’t devour a burger and shake in half the time it takes to make one, unless he’s coming down with something. I think I’d better keep an eye on you.”

Even her attempt to make a joke didn’t bring a smile to his lips.

He slid from his stool and followed Jake and Meg from the diner.