Lone Heart Pass (10 page)

“Pull in at the bank.” She pointed to the small bank across from the town's only grocery store. “I'm about to prove to you how crazy I am.”

He turned in and parked as if planning to wait for her again. When he cut the engine and she didn't reach for the door handle, he shifted to face her.

She held her head high as she always did when addressing a campaign board meeting. “If we're to make this ranch work, we have to use both our strengths and I have to trust you.”

He didn't move and showed no sign of looking as if he believed her.

“Levy left me over a hundred thousand dollars in his ranch account and I've got close to forty of my own money to put in. I want to put your name on the account so you can buy cattle or supplies when needed. If we're going to make this ranch work, you need to know what we've got to work with. I've figured your salary for a year. That's the low-water line. Anything above that we spend as needed.”

She had no doubt her suggestion shocked him, but he did a good job of hiding his feelings. “If we fail, I'll sell out by the end of the year and go back to DC. If we show a profit, thirty percent is yours for a bonus.”

Now his face looked as stormy as the sky. His fists gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “What's the catch, Jubilee? Folks in this part of the country are not long on trust when it comes to me, and this deal sounds too fair to be real.”

His words told her more about Charley Collins than all the others he'd said in the weeks she'd known him. He'd been shot out of the saddle before, had dreams promised that never happened. She guessed that he'd had others not believe in him for so long he had trouble believing in himself.

“All I'm offering is a possibility. I need you to make this place work. I've overheard folks in the post office and grocery store whisper about me. They all think I'm a nitwit for even trying to make a go of a ranch. I'm smart enough to know that I don't know enough but I think I'm a pretty good judge of character. If we fail, then it couldn't have been done. If we succeed, it'll take us both working together.”

A corner of his mouth rose slightly in a hint of a grin. “Maybe we're both nuts, but if you're serious, I'm in. We play this to the end and we walk away friends or we double the bank account in a year. Either way, I want to say thanks to you for giving me this chance.”

For a few moments they just stared at each other, knowing that this would change things, then she lifted the handful of notes he'd stuffed in the visor. “We go over these today. We each get a vote. Fifty-fifty.”

“What if it's a tie? You win, right, it's your money.”

She shook her head. “It's Levy's money. If we cross on any issue, big or small, we flip for it. Fair enough.”

“Agreed. I won't write a check over a hundred without calling you.”

“I've already thought about that. We have to work together. We have to trust each other.”

They both stepped out of the pickup and headed into the bank. In ranch terms, a hundred thousand dollars wouldn't buy much, but it might buy her a chance. She was betting it all on one man whose only reference seemed to be that he loved his daughter.

Ten minutes later they walked out, and the Lone Heart Ranch had two signers on the account. Chance walked a little taller, maybe because they both knew he'd stepped out of being a hired hand and now was a real ranch manager, even if the ranch was small.

All the way home, as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, they talked as fast as dueling banjoes. Rain started as they turned into the gate. Without any discussion, they ran toward her porch, shaking off the water like wet dogs.

She made coffee as he went over his lists. By the time she handed him a cup, he'd spread a map of the ranch out on the table.

While she studied the map, he disappeared and returned with a towel. Drifting it over her shoulder, he faced her as he tugged her hair free of the towel.

“Thanks.” She'd been so excited she hadn't realized she was shivering.

“You're welcome,” his voice softened slightly before he turned back to business. “We'll need a little tractor. Something to plow your garden and use in the barn. Something small enough to load in the truck if I need it out on the land.”

“But we've got a huge old tractor,” she commented as she sat beside him at the table and not across from him.

“It'll pay for itself in time saved.” He bumped her leg with his and neither acted as if they noticed. “With twelve horses in the barn there's a great deal of shit to move. And I mean that literally. The horses' fees will give us a monthly operating budget that'll cover headquarter bills, but, if we do this right, we'll need most, if not all, of Levy's bank account to make it to the fall.”

“Then we use it. I'll take care of the books for the horses being boarded to save you time, and if you'll teach me, I'll help with the care. That will save an hour of your time a day.”

“Fair enough.” He grinned. “You may want to take your shower after we work with the horses every morning.”

“Maybe I'll just stand in the rain.” She bumped her knee against his leg and they began work.

That was it, she realized. They'd become partners. Two people totally different who both swore they didn't need any help. She'd given him what he'd needed—trust—and in return she'd earned his respect. He wasn't arguing points now; he was explaining, and for the first time she was really listening.

As the morning aged they talked about all the possibilities and she found Charley was more conservative with old Levy's money that she was. Any doubt that she'd done the right thing vanished.

They made sandwiches at noon. He folded his in a paper towel and grabbed a bottle of water as she picked up her sandwich. “I'd better head down to the road so I can be waiting for Lillie when she gets off the bus.”

“Mind if I tag along?” Jubilee asked.

“You'll get wet.”

She looked down at her wrinkled clothes. “So?” She folded her lunch in a towel and grabbed a root beer. “We'll have a picnic while we wait.”

They laughed as they ran to his truck. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt young. Twenty-six should still be a wild, free time, but somehow Jubilee felt as though she'd been trying to act older all her life. As mature as her big sister, as serious about school as her dad thought she should be, old beyond her years so she'd get respect. She'd even dressed like a woman in her forties: she wore her hair up, bought practical shoes.

She shivered and he cranked up the heater in the truck. He glanced over at her. “Your hair curls when it's wet.”

“Just wait. As it dries it'll frizz like I've been struck by lightning.”

He drove slowly down the flooded road. “There is something I need to say to you. I've been thinking about it since that day we rode out to the pass.”

“All right.”

“You need to know.” He didn't look at her. “When I helped you on the horse I didn't mean anything by touching you. I just wanted to get you up fast and when you bumped into me coming out of the saddle, I didn't plan that, either.”

She kept her gaze on the windshield wipers splashing water back and forth. “I may have overreacted. Could we just forget it and start over like it never happened?”

He shook his head. “We'll be working together. You're a beautiful woman. If we happen to bump into each other, I want you to know I'm not flirting.”

She frowned, not knowing whether to be flattered he thought she was beautiful or irritated that he would never flirt with her.

He slowed the truck in the middle of the road a few feet from where the county road connected. “Storm's getting worse. Once we get back we'd be wise to stay inside till it stops.”

A few minutes later the bus rattled down the road. Charley grabbed his rain slicker from behind the seat and climbed out. He was waiting in the rain when the bus door opened.

Lillie jumped into his arms.

Jubilee saw the kid named Thatcher standing just behind Lillie. He yelled something at Charley. Charley nodded at Thatcher and nodded toward the pickup.

Jubilee opened her door to welcome Lillie and was surprised to have Thatcher rush in, as well. Suddenly, they were all four crammed into the cab of the pickup with Lillie in her lap. Everyone seemed to be talking at once as they bumped toward home.

Thatcher told them that as soon as he heard Charley wanted to see him, he decided to catch the first bus home. No sense wasting his time in school when all he'd be thinking about was how Charley needed him.

“Things seem to happen during storms,” Thatcher shouted over the thunder. “Last time it rained like this I had to help the sheriff investigate a body found in the canyon. Didn't matter how hard it rained, me and the sheriff were out there working.”

Charley pulled up to his house and jumped out. When he reached for Lillie, he yelled over the rain at Jubilee. “Come on in, if you like. As soon as I take Lillie in I need to show Thatcher something in the barn before we dry off. Thought you might like to keep Lillie company for a few minutes.”

Jubilee nodded and rushed into the house. She hadn't been inside since the day she'd delivered the bed. Everything was in order. For such a complicated man, Charley lived a very simple life.

The cowboy sat his tiny daughter on the couch. Thatcher waited at the door, obviously not sure if he was invited in.

“Light the fireplace,” Charley said to Thatcher. “The first thing I do when Lillie gets home is to make her a snack. I'm glad you can join her for snacktime today, Jubilee. Thatcher, you and I can take care of a little business while the ladies have a tea party.” He winked at Jubilee and she laughed.

Thatcher struck a match to the waiting fireplace, then followed Charley out before the room had time to warm.

Jubilee stared helplessly at Lillie. “I have no idea how to have a tea party. Can you help me?”

She giggled. “Neither does my daddy. My grandmother says a proper tea party should have tea, but I always have juice and cookies.”

Ten minutes later, Thatcher and Charley joined them. No one seemed to notice the teacups had juice or that half the party guests were dripping wet. They all sat around an old trunk that doubled as a coffee table in front of the fireplace.

“That,” Lillie asked, very politely, “do you have snacks when you get home from school?”

“Never have, but it seems like a good idea. I'll mention it to my mom when she gets home. She left a few days ago with her new boyfriend. He's a long-haul trucker.”

“When will she be back?” Jubilee asked.

“A month, maybe more,” he said as he shoved his long hair out of his eyes and reached for his fourth cookie.

Jubilee looked over Lillie's head at Charley and swore she could read his mind. He was about to take Thatcher under his wing.

Jubilee realized it didn't matter how he dressed or even if he cut his hair. Charley Collins was a good man and that was all she really needed to know.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Thatcher
March 10

A
FTER
HIS
FIRST
tea party was over Thatcher went outside to watch the rain. Lillie was playing with her dolls and Charley was talking about ranching with Jubilee, which Thatcher decided might be a year-long lecture. She was green. He'd bet five bucks she didn't know how to skin a rabbit.

He looked at the barn and smiled. Charley had trapped a bull snake that had to be six feet long in the barn earlier. One of the horses the ranch boarded had been bit by a rattler and was skittish about snakes, even the ones that didn't have rattles. Bull snakes kept the rat population down and were known to eat a rattlesnake now and then, but they still weren't welcome around most horses.

Thatcher said he'd take the snake down by the creek near his place and set it free if they would let him hunt rattlers on their place. Old man Hamilton never liked him hunting on Lone Heart Ranch. Maybe because, with his temperament, Levy considered the snakes kin. This land was bound to be rich hunting.

Thatcher grinned. He'd need the extra money now that he was buying lunch regularly. Kristi Norton was something, but having a girlfriend would be expensive. She was smarter than him, talked to him as if they were already friends and was all the way filled out to be almost a woman. Girls didn't come any better than that.

Thatcher could see new clothes in his future. She was bound to notice that he only owned three shirts good enough to wear to school.

Staring through the sheet of rain flowing off the porch roof, he thought of asking her to marry him. After all, they'd had lunch together for almost a week. But it might be too soon. He needed to start planning first, and second, he'd need money—a lot of money—if he were to get married. If it happened he sure wasn't bringing her back to the Breaks to live.

Plus there was always the possibility that she'd figure out how dumb he was and start inviting someone else to sit with her. Or, worse, the teachers would start noticing he was hanging around school more and decide to try and teach him something.

Thatcher had to stop his worrying when someone opened the screen door behind him.

“Storm lightening up?” Charley asked.

“Nope. I'm thinking that dirt road from here to the pavement is a river by now. I'd be safer to ride a horse home. I could bring him back tomorrow.”

Charley shook his head as he sat down on the porch bench next to him. “I got a better idea. Why don't you just stay here? No one is waiting up for you. I've got plenty of supper to share and you won't want to eat much breakfast after you taste Jubilee's cooking.”

Thatcher had to swallow hard to keep from jumping up and cheering. He'd been eating beans every night for a week. As slow as he could manage, he nodded. “You may be right. That may be a better idea. I appreciate the offer.”

Both men stretched out their long legs almost to the rain and did what country folks do. They talked about the weather and horses.

Eventually the conversation moved around to the body left in Ransom Canyon. It seemed everyone in town had a theory of how it got there. Drug dealers dropping off their trash from Chicago, or a fight in some bar in Lubbock or Amarillo killed the guy and for some reason the murderer wanted the body dropped off.

“It'll probably always be a mystery,” Charley finally said.

“Nope. I'm going to help the sheriff work on it.” Thatcher seemed determined. “He's my friend, you know, and I can tell it's twitching at him like fleas on a backbone.”

Charley laughed. “You may be right.”

Thatcher leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You think a man like Sheriff Brigman has a secret? A real secret, like he'd lock away in a drawer?”

“Probably. I think any man who lives to be over thirty probably has a few secrets. Maybe more than would fit in a drawer.”

“You have any secrets? Tell me one.”

Charley shook his head. “If I told you, That, they wouldn't be secrets. But all things a man keeps to himself aren't bad. Some are just dreams he doesn't want to share.”

Thatcher nodded and leaned against the house.

When it started to grow dark, they moved into the house. Charley pulled a couple of bags of chili from the freezer. While they warmed, he made cornbread and then served the feast with buttermilk. It was the best meal Thatcher could ever remember having.

They all seemed to talk at once as they crowded around the little card table. Lillie made a buttermilk mustache and everyone else followed suit. Thatcher could never remember laughing so hard.

After supper they watched the fire and Charley tried to teach Jubilee to play poker. Everyone, including Lillie, was better at it than she was. But she was a good sport. When she lost her last toothpick, she offered to do the dishes.

Charley whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “That, did you notice the dry spell we've been having ended about the time Jubilee showed up?”

“What do you think that means?” Thatcher played along.

Charley leaned in as if their conversation wasn't being heard from the kitchen. “Maybe when the Lord saw Jubilee heading toward Texas He figured He'd better send the rain along. Wouldn't be fair to send two plagues at once.”

“I heard that.” Jubilee laughed. “Just for that crack you have to dry while I wash.”

Charley complained, but he didn't hesitate.

Thatcher sat on the floor playing High Card with Lillie and listened to them talk in the kitchen ten feet away. He leaned his head against the couch and took a long, slow breath. Their low conversation reminded him of music so far away he couldn't make out all the words, but he knew it must be a good song.

When they returned to the living room, Jubilee brought marshmallows, chocolate bars and graham crackers. Charley held up wire coat hangers he'd straightened out.

“Look, That,” Lillie squealed. “We're about to have dessert.”

Lillie burned her marshmallows and ate her father's. Jubilee had trouble getting the toasting down. She insisted her marshmallow be perfectly browned all around before she smashed it between the crackers. Thatcher ate so many he decided that if the marshmallows expanded in his stomach, he'd explode.

Finally, Jubilee made him a bed on the couch while Charley put Lillie to sleep. Thatcher picked a book off a small shelf just to have something to do.

“Do you like Westerns?” Charley asked when he walked back into the room.

“Never read one,” he answered.

“You're welcome to try that one. It's about a guy who loves rodeo. It's by a real cowboy named Dusty Richards. I'm guessing he's written over a hundred by now and is still writing.”

Thatcher, to be polite, nodded and curled under his blanket. “I'll give it a try.”

“You do that.” Charley laughed as if he didn't believe him. “I'm going to walk Jubilee home.”

“I'll be fine,” Jubilee said.

Charley shook his head. “Humor me. If you go out there in the rain alone, I won't sleep for worrying about you stuck knee-deep in mud.” He lifted his slicker from a hook by the door. “I'll walk you to your porch.”

“What if you fall on the way back and get stuck?”

“I'll call when I get back.” He patted his pocket. “After I grab my new cell from where I left it on your kitchen table.”

He held the wet slicker up like a wilted umbrella and she joined him beneath the coat.

Thatcher could hear them laughing as they ran into the rain.

He opened the book and began to read. He knew he'd remember every detail of this night forever. This was normal. How folks acted. And this was nothing like he'd ever known.

But it was waiting for him in the future. He'd make it happen someday.