Authors: R. C. Ryan
He could see the boy hesitating.
“You’d be helping me, too, by getting Shadow settled into his new stall. I’m sure he’d feel better having you around.”
Cory gave a quick nod of his head. “Okay. I’d like that, too.”
“I’ll just tell your sister.” Jake turned off the ignition and stepped from the truck.
He was smiling as he sprinted up the steps.
It was clear that the boy had secrets. And the best way to uncover them, one by one, was by using his secret weapons—Phoebe and Ela, and their Conway-tested food. What kid could resist such a winning combination?
He had an idea that Cory’s sister might be in need of that very same magic. So far, her homecoming had been a nightmare.
Hearing voices at the rear of the house, Jake ambled through rooms filled with dusty old photographs. Rooms with dark paneled walls and heavy draperies that kept out the sunlight. Rooms that smelled musty and old and lifeless.
He stepped into what must have been Porter Stanford’s office. The walls were lined with shelves and cabinets. A heavy oak desk was littered with books and ledgers and papers. They spilled out of drawers and half-opened cabinet doors. There were more papers on the floor, and a trail of them led from the desk to a set of floor-to-ceiling glass doors, which were still locked, their heavy draperies half-closed against the light.
Meg was stone-faced, while the chief looked grim.
Jake paused by the door. “Looks like the intruder was busy.”
Everett Fletcher nodded. “Apparently. But how can we know if he got whatever it was he came for?”
“You think someone’s looking for money?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t turn up his nose at it. But Porter was meticulous about his profit-and-loss records. Anybody who knew him would know that he believed in keeping his money in the bank in Paintbrush. ” The police chief pointed. “From the looks of this mess, our intruder was after something else. A legal document maybe. That seems the most likely reason to break into a dead man’s house and rifle through his files.”
Jake glanced at Meg. “Do you have a copy of your father’s will?”
She shook her head. “My father and I never communicated. But Chief Fletcher said that Judge Bolton handled my father’s legal work.” She paused to look at the police chief to fill in the blanks for her.
Everett Fletcher nodded. “Kirby Bolton was your father’s lawyer long before he became a judge. If anybody would know about a will, it would be Kirby.”
“Or Flora.” Seeing Meg’s arched brow, Jake added with a smile, “Flora owns the diner in town. She knows what happens in this part of Wyoming as soon as it occurs, and considers it her solemn duty to spread the news as fast as is humanly possible. Folks in Paintbrush don’t need to read a newspaper or watch a TV news show. They just drop by Flora’s Diner.”
A smile touched Meg’s lips before the look of worry returned. “I remember Flora from my childhood. But, if it’s well-known that Judge Bolton has my father’s legal documents, why would an intruder want to break in here?”
The chief shrugged. “Maybe he figures your father kept other things. Coins. Collectibles. I can’t really say, Miss Stanford. Could your mother fill you in on some of your father’s background?”
“My mother is dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “I hope you’ll consider sending an officer to patrol the area until this is resolved.”
Chief Fletcher was already shaking his head. “This isn’t Washington, Miss Stanford. I don’t have an officer I can spare—”
“I’m not asking for a full-time bodyguard. But at least at night—”
“You don’t understand. I’m the only lawman around here. Just me. My only deputy assistant, Burk Truman, fills in while I grab some sleep. If he needs backup, he calls me at home. As you can see, I’m spread thin as it is. I can’t possibly promise to be out here for even one night. But I’d like to give you Thibault Baxter’s number. He owns the paint and hardware store in Paintbrush, and he’d be happy to come out and change these locks for you.”
“Thank you.” She turned away, but not before Jake saw the stricken look in her eyes. It was obvious that she was feeling completely out of her element.
“Miss Stanford…”
Before Everett could finish, Jake put a hand on his shoulder and gave a quick shake of his head.
He kept his tone soft and easy. “I came in here to let you know that I’ll be taking Shadow to my place.”
She whirled. “You mean you can’t treat him and you’re going to…put him down?”
“Not at all. What I’m saying is that this is a nasty infection that hasn’t responded to my first line of treatment, so I want the colt close, where I can keep an eye on him. I’ve asked Cory to ride along and help Shadow settle in. I think you should join us.”
When she seemed about to refuse he added, “Chief Fletcher will tell you that our cook and housekeeper serve some of the finest food around. You’ve had a lot to handle in just a matter of days. Why don’t you and Cory take a break from all this, and enjoy a good meal while you have the opportunity?”
The chief seemed relieved for the distraction. “Jake’s not just bragging, Miss Stanford. I find an excuse to stop by the Conway ranch at mealtime whenever I can. Between Phoebe’s pot roast and Ela’s corn bread, those two would put those fancy TV chefs to shame.”
“Food.” Meg touched a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten a real meal since I got off the plane. And that was some trail mix and a glass of cheap chardonnay.”
“There you go.” The chief looked over at Jake. “I think a visit to your place is just what Miss Stanford and the boy need right about now, before they have to deal with changing the locks and figuring out what safety measures to take.”
Jake glanced at Meg, who was biting her lip and trying to come up with a decision.
Jake decided to nudge her a bit more. “I can’t imagine that the intruder would risk coming here in daylight.”
After considering her options, Meg started across the room. “You’re right. I’ll get the keys.” She frowned. “Not that a locked door will make much difference to the intruder. It didn’t stop him last night.”
The police chief called, “Maybe he already got what he came for and is long gone.”
Meg paused and turned to the man with the badge. “I hope you’re right, Chief Fletcher.”
He followed her from the room, leaving Jake to trail slowly behind, as he dug out his cell phone and called Phoebe to let her know he was bringing guests for lunch.
Meg and Cory stared out the truck windows, watching the passing scenery with avid interest.
Cory, sandwiched between Jake and Meg, turned to Jake. “How far to your place?”
“We’re on it. Have been ever since we left your ranch.”
“This is all yours?”
Jake nodded. “Not technically mine. It belongs to my family. My grandfather, my father, and my two brothers and their wives.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “You’ve got brothers?”
“Quinn and Josh. They’re both older than me.”
“Wow. It must be cool having older brothers.”
“Sometimes.” Jake chuckled. “And sometimes I used to wish I was an only child.” He looked over. “How about you? Ever wish you had brothers?”
Cory shrugged. “It would’ve been neat. My dad didn’t do a lot with me. Sometimes I thought it was because he didn’t like me.” He sighed. “But my mom said it was because he was old and tired.”
Jake looked beyond the boy to the young woman who hadn’t spoken a single word since leaving her father’s ranch.
She looked pensively out the side window, and it occurred to him that she and the boy didn’t interact, except through him. Maybe they’d already given up trying to communicate with each other.
“How does it feel to be back in Wyoming, Meg?”
She forced herself from her reverie to shrug her shoulders. “It feels strange. For years after my mother and I left, I begged to be allowed to come back, if only for a few weeks. I missed it so much. I’d had a pony…” She stopped and glanced at the boy beside her. Her tone lowered. Softened. “I’d almost forgotten, Cory. I called her Strawberry. She was a roan. A gift from my father on my seventh birthday.” A long, deep sigh escaped her lips. “I loved that pony.”
Cory shot her a timid look. “That’s how I feel about Shadow. Did you take her with you when you left?”
She seemed more surprised by the fact that he spoke directly to her than by the question. “I had to leave her behind. My mother made it clear that we were leaving everything except the clothes on our backs, and starting our new lives with a clean slate. And so we did.”
“If you had asked Dad, he would have sent you pictures of Strawberry.”
She shook her head. “We didn’t exactly part as friends.”
The boy looked at her in disbelief. “My mom used to say he isn’t your friend. He’s your dad. That’s why, even when he’s sad, I should know that he loves me.”
“He may have been my dad, too, but the man I left was a mean-mouthed—” She stopped herself, forcing the anger from her tone. “Sorry. Old habits. Look, Cory, I’m glad he was a decent enough dad to you. But my memories aren’t the same as yours.”
“Was he mean to you?”
“Never. At least, not until I left Wyoming. Then, it was as if I’d fallen off a cliff. I never heard from him again. I was just cut out of his life.”
The uncomfortable silence was there again, like a wall between them.
Jake was relieved when Cory asked him, “How much longer before we reach your house?”
Jake pointed. “Keep an eye up ahead.”
As they came up over a ridge, Jake smiled at the sight of the sprawling house in the distance. They drove under the arch with the huge C burned into the wood, along with the words Devil’s Wilderness.
Cory read the words aloud. “Is that the name of your ranch?”
“Yeah.” Jake’s tone warmed. “When my grandfather, Big Jim, first saw this place, he thought it was the rawest, toughest landscape he’d ever encountered. The devil’s own wilderness. And the name stuck.”
Meg turned to look at Jake. “You call your grandfather Big Jim?”
”That’s his name.”
“Did your grandfather raise you?”
“As much as my father, I’d say. My father’s name is Cole, by the way. And my brothers and I call him Pa.”
“And your mom?” Cory asked.
“Gone.” Jake’s grin faded. “She disappeared without a trace when I was a kid.”
“What do you mean—disappeared?” Though it was Cory who spoke, Jake saw Meg’s interest sharpen.
“She was here one day, and then gone. And through the years, there’s never been a single clue as to where she went, or why.”
Meg nodded slowly. “I seem to remember hearing my parents talking about it. But it was so long ago, I have only vague memories. It must be horrible to not know what happened.”
“Yeah. It’s a b—” Jake shot a quick glance at Cory and added lamely, “It’s a bear, not knowing. It became the new reality in the Conway household. The elephant in the living room that everybody circled, but nobody acknowledged.”
Cory was watching him carefully. “You keep an elephant in your living room?”
That had Jake’s frown turning into a grin. “Thanks, Cory.” He tousled the boy’s hair. “I needed that.”
The boy turned from Jake to Meg, who was also grinning. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain it to you later,” Jake said. “For now, I’d like to welcome both of you to my home.”
He drove along the curving ribbon of driveway that showed off the front of the gray, three-story structure made of wood and stone, nestled in the foothills of the majestic Tetons. The sprawling house looked as though it had always been here. As though it had sprung up with the very mountains themselves.
On the long front porch sat an assortment of sturdy outdoor furniture, including two hand-hewn wooden rockers.
Jake pointed them out. “Big Jim made those by hand more than fifty years ago. He and his bride, Clementine, spent many a summer evening watching the steady parade of wildlife that crossed their property.”
“Is Clementine still alive?” Meg asked.
“She’s buried up on that hill.” As Meg and Cory swiveled their heads, he added, “And she’s as alive as ever in Big Jim’s mind. He still consults her on every issue, and drops by often for a visit, or to tell her about his day.”
Driving around to the back of the house, Jake continued on toward one of the barns. He turned off the engine and walked around to open the passenger door for Meg and Cory.
The three of them walked to the horse trailer, and Jake lowered the ramp to allow Cory to lead the colt out into the sunshine.
The limp, Jake noted, was no better.
“Let’s get Shadow settled in.” He led the way inside a cavernous barn.
He paused to hold the door while Cory led the colt into a stall filled with fresh straw and a trough brimming with cool water.
The colt took a long, noisy drink.
Jake pointed to a bin just inside the barn door. “You’d better fetch him some oats, son. After that ride, Shadow’s bound to be as hungry as he is thirsty.”
The boy raced off and returned with a scoop of oats that he dumped into an empty feed box.
When the stall door was secured, the three of them watched as the colt began to eat.
Cory turned to Jake. “How’d you know he was hungry?”
“A calculated guess. Traveling always makes me hungry. How about you?”
The boy smiled. “Yeah.”
“Good. That will make Phoebe and Ela happy.”
“Why?”
“Because they like nothing better than to feed a hungry boy. They’ve had years of experience.”
As they made their way from across the floor of the barn Cory asked, “Do you bring lots of sick animals here?”
“Some. Right now I’ve got Randy Morton’s golden Lab here.” Jake paused at the dog’s pen to run a hand over her back and was rewarded with a lick from her lolling tongue. “Honey’s expecting pups any day now, and Randy had to leave town on business, so I agreed to keep her here and keep an eye on her until Randy gets back. That way we’ll know Honey is in a safe shelter when her time comes.”
Cory petted the pretty Lab. “Do you think she’ll have them today while we’re here?”
Jake could hear the excitement in Cory’s voice. “I doubt it.” He led the way from the barn. “But it’s only a matter of days. Maybe you’ll get to see them.”