Alberta Alibi (2 page)

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Authors: Dayle Gaetz

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BOOK: Alberta Alibi
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Should she knock or just walk in? She couldn't decide so she knocked and turned the doorknob at the same time. Except that the doorknob wouldn't turn. And no one came to the door. They were locked out. Now what? This was the one thing that never once occurred to her. Sheila had known he might not greet her with open arms. He might not be as pleased to see her as she wanted him to be, but she never thought he would simply go away and lock the door.

They never locked the door when she lived here, not in the daytime.

“I expect he must have been called away by something that couldn't wait,” Gram said, slipping an arm around Sheila's shoulders. “Let's go to the trailer and make ourselves some iced tea while we wait. I don't know about you, but I'm parched.”

“Me too.” Katie sounded artificially cheerful. “And let's have some of those cookies we bought at the bakery in Calgary.”

Sheila nodded. She couldn't speak. They should never have come. Her father didn't want her here, that's why he took off. Either that or he forgot. She really didn't know which was worse.

They took folding chairs from the trailer and set them up in the shade of cottonwoods, where they settled to sip iced tea and munch cookies. Sheila didn't sip or munch. She sat quietly, staring into her glass, watching the ice cubes melt. She wanted to go home.

“I'm sure he'll be along soon,” Gram said again.

GJ looked glum. He leaned forward in his chair, his forearms resting on his knees, and stared straight ahead at two sleek, black horses in the corral. Sheila had never seen them before. She wondered where Silver was, but couldn't summon the energy to go look for him. Rusty polished off another cookie and put his head back, gazing up through leafy green foliage to patches of blue sky. A little beam of sunlight landed on the top of his head and lit up his red hair like fire. “I don't mind staying here for a few days,” he said, “but you'll never catch me on a horse.”

Katie occasionally glanced up from her book, a sad look in her dark brown eyes, then lost herself in the mystery story again.

“Someone's coming!” GJ said. He stood up and took a few steps toward the fields, his hands on his hips.

Sheila leapt out of her chair and darted to the corral fence. She stepped onto the bottom rail and rested her arms on the top one. “It's Silver!” she cried. A golden horse galloped toward them, closely followed by a cloud of dust. Sheila smiled. That's what happened. Silver must have been out to pasture and her dad had gone to get him for her, but he took longer than expected to find her horse and now, here he was.

As horse and rider drew closer, Sheila's smile sagged. The rider looked small, way too small to be her father, who was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Silver slowed to a trot and then a walk as he neared the fence; his long tail swished bright silver in the sunlight. The rider wore jeans, a white T-shirt and a black cowboy hat. He dismounted, opened a gate, led Silver through and started up the driveway toward them. Definitely too small to be her father, he was only a boy, no bigger than Rusty.

Sheila felt like running up to him, demanding to know who he was and why he was riding her horse. Why did he have her dad's hat? But she remained very still on the fence, eyes narrowed, watching.

Katie came up beside her. “Who's he?”

“How should I know!” Sheila snapped. She wished Katie would leave her alone. Why didn't they all just go away and leave her alone?

The minute he was led into the yard, Silver whinnied and pranced with excitement. He pulled on the reins, trying to get to Sheila. “Easy now.” The boy held Silver back. He took off his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He had a tanned, square face, straight brown hair and gray eyes that looked wary. He glowered at the five of them. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Who are
you?”
Katie ran toward him. “And what are you doing with my friend's horse?”

The boy looked from Katie to Sheila, frowning.

Then his mouth and eyes got round at the same time. “Are you Sheila? Wow! Chris was right, you do have a million freckles. So how come you're here today?”

Even if Sheila was ready to answer, she didn't have a chance with Katie on the job. “She said she'd be here on the twenty-first, didn't she? And today's the twenty-first. So who are you anyway?”

“Chris said you were coming tomorrow,” the boy said.

Chris. Her dad, Chris Walton. Who was this kid? Before Sheila could ask, there was a screech of tires on the paved road. Seconds later an old beat-up truck came bumping and rattling up the driveway, almost lost in billowing dust. It skidded to a halt near the trailer. The driver's door flew open and out burst her dad.

“Sheila!” he called. He whipped off his black cowboy hat; his light brown hair flew in the air and settled over his forehead as he ran toward her. “I lost track of the date! Didn't realize it was the twentyfirst till I got to town and went to the bank. I'm sorry! I wanted to be here when you arrived.” He had reached the fence by then and flung his arms open to give her a hug.

Sheila clung to the top rail and shied away from him. She looked at the boy. “Who is he and what is he doing with my horse?”

Her father's arms fell to his sides. “I guess I should have told you sooner,” he began, “but I didn't know how to get started. I decided it might be best if you could meet him in person.”

She waited.

“This is Huntley James. Remember the Arnesens?”

Sheila nodded. The Arnesens were a really nice elderly couple who owned a neighboring ranch. “So?”

“So Mr. Arnesen died quite suddenly last year and their daughter, Adele, came home from Toronto to help her mother. But just recently Mrs. Arnesen had to go into a nursing home, and Adele is, uh, dealing with the ranch. I knew Adele from school, we're old friends.”

“So?” Sheila asked again. Why was he telling her all this stuff? What did it have to do with this, what's his name, this Hartley? She glared at the boy, who still clung to Silver's reins.

“Huntley is Adele's son and he's…that is, she's…”

“What!?!”

“Huntley's staying with me while Adele's away.”

“I see. So you're
baby
sitting him.”

“You could say that, yeah.”

“I'm helping out on the ranch,” Huntley said firmly. Then he went on talking as if no one else was there. “Chris, did you hear about the night watchman over at the development?”

“No, what about him?”

“Someone shot him last night. He's in hospital at High River. Police are looking for someone who drives an old blue pickup.”

All eyes flicked over to the pickup truck parked next to the trailer. It gave off a metallic ticking sound as it cooled, and a puff of steam escaped from its grill while dust settled quietly over its pale blue paint.

3

O
h no! Not again! Not another mystery! Sheila glanced at Katie and knew her friend was itching to ask some questions. But Katie's grandparents were watching closely now, and Sheila saw Katie swallow her excitement. Sheila knew her friend must be practically biting her tongue to keep from asking,
What development? What night watchman?
Why would someone shoot at him? And why are
they looking for an old blue truck?

Sheila's dad laughed. “An old blue pickup? They'll have to visit half the ranches from High River to Fort Macleod if that's the only clue they've got.”

Huntley laughed too. “That's what I told Wendell. He saw the truck.”

Katie made an odd sound in her throat. It started like “Wh-oo” and ended in a cough. Of course Katie wanted to know who Wendell was, but Sheila didn't much care as she watched the boy disappear into the barn leading Silver. She followed.

Her dad's voice stopped her. “Sheila, aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” She hated introducing people; it always felt so awkward, and all she really wanted to do right now was go talk to her horse. That and boot the little brat Hartley out of the barn so she could groom Silver herself. But Gram and GJ had been so nice to her, she didn't want them to think she was rude.

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Gram, GJ, this is my dad, Chris Walton. And, Dad, this is my best friend, Katie Reid and her cousin, Rusty Gates. He's my friend too,” she added as an afterthought. Rusty looked surprised and then he grinned at her.

“We're so happy to meet you,” Gram said, shaking Sheila's dad's hand. “I'm Lynne Sampson and this is my husband, Jerry. The kids call him GJ, short for Grampa Jerry.”

While the adults settled in to talk about boring stuff, Katie wandered over to inspect the pickup truck. Sheila was glad Katie didn't have her notebook in hand because for sure she'd start taking notes, and Dad would want to know why.

Looking bored, Rusty sat back down on his folding chair. He picked up a cookie and the book Gram bought him in Calgary. Something about early settlement in the foothills.

“I'm going to see Silver,” Sheila announced and stomped into the barn.

The mingled smells of hay and horse and old leather made her suddenly feel at home. The light was dim and her eyes took a moment to adjust. Then she saw Silver at the far end of the barn, dark and shadowy in the weak light. He was haltered and tied to a post to keep him still while that brat of a boy removed his saddle.

“I want to groom him!” Sheila shouted, knowing she sounded rude, but for once she didn't care.

The brat turned around, holding the saddle in his arms. He grinned. “I figured you would.”

Silver whinnied softly and Sheila forgot all about the boy as she walked up to her horse and stroked his soft muzzle. “Silver, I've missed you so much!” she whispered. She pulled out a carrot from her pocket, one she had brought all the way from home. It was limp and rubbery, but Silver didn't seem to mind.

“I bet you want to know why I'm really here,” the brat said.

“I don't care, Harley. Just so long as you leave me and my horse alone.”

He stood there, waiting.

Sheila tried to ignore him, hoping he would go away. She ran her fingers through Silver's thick silver mane and whispered softly to him, but the boy didn't go away and finally she couldn't stand it any longer. “What?” she half turned, far enough that she could see his shoulder but not his face.

“My name's not Harley, it's Huntley, and I think you do want to know. You're just too stubborn to ask.”

“I'm not stubborn!” she yelled so loudly Silver shied away from her. “Sorry, boy,” she whispered. Then, “All right, tell me, if it will make you go away.”

“Your dad is my mom's boyfriend.”

The shock of his words shot right through her.

They brought instant tears to her eyes. Sheila blinked and buried her face in Silver's neck. “Go away, Harley.”

“I won't go unless you call me Huntley.”

“Harley, Huntley, Humphrey, who cares? They're all stupid names if you ask me!”

She heard his footsteps retreating through the barn and guessed she had hurt his feelings. But she didn't care. He deserved it. How dare he tell lies about her dad? Deep down, her dad still loved her mom, Sheila knew that. They would all live together again, here on the Triple W Ranch. It was only a matter of time.

Sheila was still brushing Silver when she heard a soft footstep behind her. “Can't you just leave me alone?” she snapped.

“Sheila?”

It was Gram's voice. Sheila whirled around. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were that boy.”

“Huntley? He seems like a nice boy. Wasn't it thoughtful of him to walk all that way out and bring your horse in for you?”

Sheila said nothing. She felt like crying.

“Are you all right, Sheila?”

She nodded, smiled. “I'm good,” she sniffed.

“Sometimes it's hard to come back and see changes.”

When Sheila didn't answer, Gram continued, “GJ and I are just about ready to head out to meet our friends from High River. But if you'd like, we can stay until tomorrow.” She glanced at her watch. “If I phone now, I can catch them before they leave for the cabin we've rented in Kananaskis Country.”

Sheila shook her head. “I'm fine. I'm just excited to see Silver again.”

“Are you sure? Because once we're in the mountains you won't be able to reach us by phone, so if—”

“Hey! That's what I like to see, girl and horse reunited!” GJ stepped up behind Gram and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Are we ready to roll?”

Gram nodded. She gave Sheila a quick hug.

“You'll be fine,” she said. “We'll see you in a few days. Have a great time!”

Sheila nodded and watched the two of them walk from the barn. A solid, broad-shouldered man and a tall slender woman, they were dark silhouettes against the bright light of the open barn door.

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