Sweet Talking Lawman (22 page)

Mesa nodded.  “I
think it was his love of music that pushed me.”  Her eyes softened. 
“You know it was the music and the chance to sing for people that drew him to
the bars, maybe more than the drinking.  It was something he needed as
much as he needed to breathe.”

Shirley’s smile
faded.  “I loved that man, Mesa.  I’d loved him my whole life.”

“I can certainly
understand that, Mom.”  She looked down the road where the dust was
settling in the wake of Rafe’s departure.

Fisher sat in a dark
corner of the bar waiting.  He knew the boss wasn’t going to be happy that
the Indian was locked up in the jail.  He lifted his empty mug, signaling
the bar maid, Peg, that he needed another beer before he looked at his
watch.  It was almost time to call and let the boss know what was going
on.  Or maybe to find out more about what was going on than he knew. 
Somehow, the man he called seemed to have more information than he should have
access to.

The girl slid a mug
brimming with draft beer onto the table in front of him and walked quickly
away.  He grinned at her backside.  Snotty little bitch.  She
seemed to think she was above him.  Given the time, he’d be glad to show
her.  He lifted the mug to his lips and almost dropped it as the cell
phone in his other hand buzzed.

He looked at the
number and frowned.  He was supposed to initiate the call.  It wasn’t
good when he didn’t, but waiting for him to answer would only make the boss
angrier.  He flipped the phone open.  “Yeah.”  He tuned out the
normal noise that was a part of every bar and concentrated on the voice in his
ear.  A frown crept over his face and then ignoring the full, frosty mug
of beer, he pushed to his feet and exited through the back door.  He
listened in silence for several seconds and then a smile melted across his
face, followed shortly by a frown.  “But why don’t I just take her. 
Make her disappear so no one knows where she went.”  He really wanted some
time alone with Mesa Howell.  She was a minor celebrity and since he’d
seen her the first time, his imagination had created a fantasy around bending
her to his will, turning her into his own personal sex toy.

The voice on the
other end of the line barked sharply into his ear and Fisher’s frown became a
scowl, but he nodded his head.  “Alright, as long as you understand that
each body I leave increases my fee.”  He snarled petulantly.  “I’m
taking a lot of risks to get this job done.”  He slapped his cell phone
closed and slipped it into his pocket.  The beer he’d left sitting on the
table inside completely forgotten, he walked to his truck and returned to his
room in the cheap motel on the outskirts of town.  Tomorrow he’d have to
find a secluded place to watch the cabin that housed Mesa Howell so he could
set up an ambush.  He’d been hoping her death wouldn’t have to be quick,
but he was making big bucks for this job, so he’d have to make the boss happy.

The next morning he
left the motel well before daylight, a back pack settled on one shoulder. 
He pushed the small dirt bike he kept in his room along with him to the rear of
the truck.  He popped the tailgate down and pulled out the narrow ramp he
used for loading and unloading the dirt bike.  It was a tough job pushing
the bike up the ramp, but he got it done quickly enough and was soon headed
down the road in the general direction of the Howell ranch.  He bypassed
the turnoff that would take him to the ranch and drove on a few miles until he
found the narrow, seldom used logging road that entered from the back of the
property.  He opened the camouflaged back pack and pulled out a light
weight suit of the same camouflaged pattern and slipped into it.  It took
no time to unload the dirt bike and then hanging the back pack, now containing
only several bottles of water, a few granola bars, a flashlight and a pair of
binoculars, on his back, he hopped on the bike and headed out.  The bike
would take him most of the way to the cabin beside the lake and he’d have to
hike the rest of the way, but the chances of someone hearing him approach the
back side of the lake on the bike was too great.

It took a while for
him to locate an observation spot that was well concealed, but gave him a good
view of the scattered buildings and houses that made up the headquarters of the
Rocking H.  But an hour and a half later he was hunkered down in a clump
of brush that overlooked the place.  Now he would wait.

^^^

Mesa put her coffee
cup in the sink, stretched languorously and slipped back up the stairs to get
dressed.  After she pulled on her Wrangler jeans and her Roper boots, she
found a comfortable pull over shirt and swept her long hair back into the now
common ponytail on the back of her head.

When she was finished
she slipped quietly into Raale’s room.  The child lay on the single bed,
on her tummy, her hands clasped together under her chin, one leg out from under
the sheet and drawn up almost to her chest on one side.  Her dark braids
were askew on the pillow behind her head, her breathing deep and steady.

A smile melted across
Mesa’s face and she was rocked by an unmeasurable surge of love.  That
tiny human being was a product of the love she felt for Rafe Storm Horse and
was the greatest reward she’d ever known.  She wished there was some way
she could assure that her little girl would never know anything except love and
joy, but in reality she knew she could only protect the child to the best of
her limited abilities.  She stepped close to the bed and bent to drop a
quick kiss to one soft cheek.

One small brown eye
fluttered open.  “Mom?”

Mesa stroked the back
of the girl’s head.  “Shh, I didn’t mean to wake you.  Go back to
sleep,” she whispered.

Raale smiled. 
“’s okay.  I lub you.”  Her voice was soft and coarse with sleep, her
eyes already closed again.

“I love you,
too.  Get some more rest.  I’ll see you later,” Mesa whispered as she
backed to the door.  She pulled it open and watched as Raale shifted her
position on the bed, but the deep breathing resumed so Mesa eased the door shut
and slipped down the stairs.

She followed the
short-cut path from the cabin to the barn and smiled as the birds and squirrels
scolded her for invading their sheltered homes.  It was just good daylight,
but she knew Bob, Gibby and most of the other hands had long since eaten
breakfast, loaded their horses and gone over to help the ranch that adjoined
the Rocking H with penning, worming, and castrating their yearlings. 
They’d be gone most of the day and, next week, the hands from over there would
be here helping out with the same thankless chores.

It was quiet in the
barn, but
To
heard her and nickered a soft
greeting.  She really liked the young blue roan stallion.  He’d
finished most of his breakfast, having only a little hay left in his hayrack,
so Mesa went to the tack room and brought a small plastic tote filled with
grooming tools back to his stall.  While he finished, she gave him a good
brushing.  They finished about the same time and she slipped his halter on
him, attached a lead rope, and carried the tote while she led him to the tack
room and tied him to a ring sunk deep in a heavy beam specifically for the
purpose of tying horses during saddling.

With efficient,
confident movements, she placed the pads on his broad back and followed with
the comfortable old saddle that Uncle Rance had ridden for years. 
To
opened his mouth for the bit when she held it
to him and in no time she was mounted and loping circles in the round pen.

The colt moved
willingly and smoothly around the pen, following her slightest cue and Mesa
soon tired of the small pen.  She drew him to a stop at the gate, lifted
the latch and using her heel next to the gate, asked her mount to side pass
away, allowing her to pull the gate open.  When there was adequate room,
she kneed him forward, around the end of the gate and pulled it shut as he side
passed away from the opening.  He received an enthusiastic neck petting
and soft words of praise for his willingness and then Mesa turned him and rode
to the lane beside the barn and into the woods.   Following the small
two track road, she would ride up into the hilly forest that made up the back
half of the ranch.

Once she was beyond
the fences, she worked the colt at walking in a diagonal until he moved from
one rut into the other, and then cued him for the other diagonal and angled
back again.  She did the same exercise at a trot and then requested a left
lead to lope about half a mile, stopped, and requested a right lead and loped
roughly another half mile.  Then they dropped into his mile eating walk to
just enjoy the rest of the ride.

It was peaceful back
in the forest and she hadn’t been here since she and Jenny used to ride these
woods when they were in school.  Mesa knew that Uncle Rance had sold the
pines off one section back here years ago and he’d mentioned recently that it
might be time to harvest them again.  A squirrel appeared on the side of
one of the trees and, not taking its eyes off her, hopped to the next tree and
the next, staying just ahead of her.  Without looking, the small rodent
jumped again, expecting another tree to catch it, but the next tree in the row
had died and the animal plopped to the ground with a solid thump.  Mesa
laughed silently as the surprised animal quickly recovered from the rough
landing and scurried away into the underbrush.

She didn’t know when
it started, but Mesa became aware of a sudden stillness in the forest around
her and she felt like someone was watching her.  The hair on the back of
her neck prickled and she drew
To
to a stop
in order to look around, listen for any unusual noises, but heard
nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  The skin on the back of her neck
prickled again and she nervously shifted in the saddle,
To
reacting to her nervousness by dancing around under her.

At the same time, a
chunk of wood exploded from the tree three feet to her left. 
To
lunged to the right and wheeled around as a
sound like the buzz of a bee flew past Mesa’s face and another chunk of wood
exploded in the same tree in almost the same place.  She tried to calm the
colt who was dancing uneasily in near panic, beneath her when yet another chunk
of tree exploded on another tree beyond her.  She crouched over her
horse’s neck and booted him forward.  He eagerly lunged into a run. 
Mesa suddenly realized that, although there had been no sound of a gun firing,
it couldn’t be anything else.  Someone was shooting at her!

To
flew back down the small lane they’d traveled, those
strong legs built to carry him to safety, drumming his sturdy hooves
relentlessly into the soft sod atop the two track path.  Mesa reined him
in as they neared the barn and dug her cell phone out of her pocket.  Her
hands trembled as she pushed in the number to Rafe’s cell phone.

She didn’t know if
he’d be up yet, or not, but she needed him here as soon as possible.

He answered on the
second ring.  “Mesa?”

“Rafe, I was riding
in the woods behind the lake and someone started shooting at me.”  Her
voice trembled as she spoke.

He swore
softly.  “Get in the house and lock the doors.  I’m on my way, baby.”

She intended to do as
he said, but
To
was blowing hard from the
run, and she couldn’t put him in a stall like he was.  When she reached
the barn, she quickly stripped the saddle off the winded horse, leaving it
laying where it fell and turned him loose in a small paddock.  After he’d
drunk a limited amount of water, she turned the tub over so he couldn’t over
drink and then jogged back to the house.

By the time she’d
reached the house she could hear the wail of Rafe’s siren in the
distance.  She closed the heavy front door and engaged the deadbolt, then
rushed to make sure the back door was secure as well.

Jory, Raale, and
Uncle Rance sat at the breakfast table eyeing her with shocked expressions.

“Mesa?” Uncle Rance
started.

Jory jumped up from
the chair and grabbed her by the shoulders.  “What’s happened?”

Almost
hyperventilating, she gasped at him.  “Call my mom and tell her to lock
her doors and do not leave the house.  Someone just tried to shoot me. 
Rafe’s almost here.”

Jory released her as
Raale grabbed her around the waist.  Mesa bent to comfort her child as
Jory pushed in the numbers to the big house.

When Shirley
answered, he relayed the message and assured her that Mesa was alright, but it
was too dangerous for her to come to the cabin.  He’d come get her as soon
as it was safe.

As Rafe’s truck
lurched to a stop outside, Mesa scooped Raale up and hurried to pull the door
open.  He crossed the porch in two steps and pulled the two of them into
his arms.  The big bulldog followed him, a little nervous because of the
tension in the air.

“What were you
thinking?  I told you not to go out anywhere alone!”  His voice
scolded her, but his arms reminded her that she was important to him.

With her face buried
against the warmth of his neck and his arms holding her close, she felt herself
beginning to tremble.  “I’m sorry.  I just didn’t think.”

Rafe pulled her over
to the couch and made room for Raale to snuggle in between them.  “Did you
see anything?”

She shook her head
negatively.  “Nothing.”  Her voice hiccupped as she continued. 
“I was just riding along the old logging road when I realized how quiet
everything had gotten.  Then something blew a hole in a tree next to me
and To shied.  Something hit the tree again and he rolled back in the
direction we’d come from and was dancing around like crazy.  When the
third shot hit another tree near me, I thought I’d heard a bee buzz past and I
realized someone was shooting at me.  That colt ran all the way back to
the barn.”