Stripped Bare (33 page)

Mom turned to me with interest.

I shrugged.

Louise lowered her voice and glanced at the doorway to the living room. “They said Nat tried to kill you.”

“I'm not sure she really meant it.”

Louise's mouth opened in outrage. “But she messed with your car and did something disgusting at Frog Creek.”

I needed to talk to Milo about the leak in his office. Except he was probably the perp. “I'm sure she was only trying to scare me.”

Louise peeled the foil back and picked a brownie off a big pile. She settled at the table. “What I want to know is if Carly had anything to do with it.”

“She didn't,” Mom said.

Louise bit into her brownie and talked around it. “Well, she and Danny were tight, and I know she was upset with the land sale.”

“She didn't,” I repeated, and plopped onto the bench opposite her.

She held up her hand in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

“Have you heard from her?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. Louise leaned forward, then rocked back, her mouth tight. I imagine she wanted Mom to ask more questions, to show angst, to tear her hair or rend her clothes.

A forceful knock on the kitchen door made us all jump. It creaked open and Dahlia swept in, outfitted in a long leather duster. I glanced at the kitchen floor, muddy from everyone tromping through the snow. But Dahlia didn't appear the tiniest bit damp. Were flakes afraid to fall on her?

With her curled hair, flawless makeup, and lipstick smile, Dahlia raised her eyebrows at Mom. “Ready for bed already, Marge? I suppose it feels cozy on a snowy night.”

I jumped to my feet. There wasn't a nice way to put it, so I tried to sound pleasant. “What are you doing here?”

She beamed at me. “I was in Hodgekiss for dinner with Violet and Rose when Roxy called me. She told me about what happened at the Bar J and how Ted is cleared. I'm so happy, I had to stop by and give you a hug.”

She grabbed me before I could step back. I didn't wipe her cooties from me, even though I felt the urge. “How did you know I was here?”

“Roxy told me.”

I'd called Ted on my way to town and filled him in. Obviously he'd talked to Roxy, or she wouldn't have the information to pass on to Dahlia.

Dahlia clapped her hands together. “All this nasty business is finished.”

As far as she was concerned.

She tilted her head to the side. “How about if you get those posters out tomorrow? We want everyone to know Ted is their choice for sheriff.”

Whatever I mumbled worked to propel her out the door.

Mom's foot bounced. She locked eyes with me. “‘As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.'”

Maybe I imagined it, but I thought she emphasized the “as far as possible” part.

Louise brightened. “So, putting out posters for Ted. Getting hugs from Dahlia. You must have decided to work things out.”

I hesitated. Mom said to figure out what I wanted most. I'd spent the last few days shoving the question of my future far from my mind, but somewhere in the middle of the danger and angst, probably during those endless hours on the road, my subconscious had been busy.

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I think we're going to work it out.”

 

30

The ground kept its snowy blanket, the white reflecting so brightly I almost wished for Roxy's blinged-out shades. Instead, I squinted down the flat road at Broken Butte's water tower growing in my windshield and adjusted the visor in Mom's '83 Vanagon. Since Elvis was out of commission and the pickup rested in the washout at the Bar J, my choices for a ride were slim. I felt unstable, perched on the towering driver's seat, strapped in so I wouldn't tumble off.

I'd woken before dawn with a dull ache in my lower back and the unmistakable warmth on my thighs. Disappointment and relief seesawed inside me. There was no denying that a baby would complicate my life and my relationship with Ted. But I wanted to be a mother. Someday.

Only one campaign sign rattled on the floor behind me. After putting off distributing them for so long, it felt good to have at least that chore behind me. It had taken the better part of the morning, because I had to repeat the story about Danny and Nat at every stop. People didn't seem surprised that Rope hadn't known Danny was hiding out at the ranch.

“I've known Rope all my life,” Dad's cousin Marlene told me. She owned the bakery in Danbury, the next town along the highway east of Hodgekiss. “If it didn't have to do with the Bar J, he didn't pay any attention. That's what went wrong with Mick, and probably Danny, too. I'm not surprised it sent Nat over the edge. He should have stayed a bachelor.”

Marlene hadn't heard the gentle way Rope talked to Nat. I'd lay chips that Rope knew Nat was one crack away from shattering.

I turned up Main Street, sorry to see that, with the heavy snow, the daffodils were done for. They never last long anyway. Sort of like happiness.

But the flowers would bloom again. If not next year, then the year after. It was bound to come around.

I made one stop on my way to the hospital. I wanted to give Ted a little surprise, something special to mark the beginning of our new life. I'd had to make an appointment first thing that morning, and I did some fast talking to get exactly what I wanted. But I dealt with Annette Stromsberg, another of Dad's cousins, so she promised to drop what she was doing to help me out.

I parked Mom's van in the hospital lot and grabbed the last campaign poster, along with Ted's surprise. Because today was the first day of the rest of my life—or anyway, it wasn't the end—I put a little spring in my step across the wet parking lot.

Before I reached for the handle to the glass entry doors, the text alert beeped on my phone. Balancing the campaign sign, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. I didn't recognize the number. Area code 201. Someplace on the East Coast? I opened the message and blood rushed into my head, roaring in my ears. I squinted at the tiny emoticon image of the colorful toucan.

With shaking fingers, I pushed buttons. I held my breath while it took twenty years for the circuits or cybers or magic to finally connect and start ringing. A woman answered.

“Carly?” I nearly screamed it, even though this clearly wasn't Carly.

“Excuse me?” The voice sounded firm.

I tried to lasso my raging emotions. “I got a text from this number. Did you send it? Did someone else?”

“I didn't send any texts lately. My daughter's been playing with my phone, though. Maybe she accidently hit something.”

The message was no accident. “Where are you? Could someone else have used your phone?”

The woman let out an irritated huff. “We're at O'Hare and our plane's delayed, so I gave my daughter my phone to keep her occupied. A nice young girl started playing one of those silly games with her. I suppose she might have sent a text.”

My words tumbled over themselves. “Is she still there?”

“I … Let me look.” I waited a half a second. Her voice came from a little distance. “Honey? Where did that girl go?”

A child's voice said something and the woman came back on. “I don't see her.”

It felt like I had dropped into a pool of tepid water, disappointment closing over me. “What did she look like?”

The woman sounded concerned. “She was blonde, probably about twenty. She seemed so nice.”

O'Hare. Carly could be boarding a plane now. Or she could have just landed. She might be in a taxi or sitting in a restaurant. Where was she going? Was someone chasing her, or was she doing the pursuing? The answers drifted far from my grasp, and there was no way to pull them back to me. I took the woman's information for Baxter's investigator.

Carly had sent me a message to let me know she was okay. A coded message no one else would understand. I focused on what I knew: she must look good and healthy and relatively happy or no mother would allow her near her child. For now, that would have to do.

I stared up at the endless blue of the Nebraska sky and sent a prayer for Carly. She might be young, but she was strong and smart. I channeled Mom and decided to trust Carly. Plus, I had the added insurance of Baxter's finest on her trail.

I pocketed the phone, patted Ted's surprise, and pulled open the hospital doors. Aunt Tutti scurried across the lobby in her purple scrubs. She changed directions and charged up to me, grabbing my chin and inspecting my face. “Nice shiners.”

“I won't need eyeliner for quite a while,” I said.

She chuckled. “It's going to be purty when they turn green and yellow.”

“Guess I'll forego the eye shadow, too.”

I tucked the sign under my arm, the two stakes pointing down, and hurried to Ted's room.

No whiskers hid the healthy color in his cheeks. His eyes sparkled, and all that charm that held me—and Roxy—in such thrall oozed from him. My heart stuttered a bit at his good looks.

He beamed when I walked in the door. “I've got a surprise for you!”

I would let him go first.

He whistled when he got a good look at my raccoon eyes. “Wow. Did Rope punch you, or Nat?”

“The steering wheel.”

“Wait until you see this.” He sat up tall and whisked the blanket from his legs. His forehead crinkled in concentration and his jaw clenched.

I watched with fascination, focusing on the big toe's yellowed nail. Did Roxy get grossed out like I did when Ted didn't trim his toenails?

Slowly, the toe bent down and labored back up. Ted let out a whoosh of air and grinned. “How about that?”

“Congratulations!” Not that I believe in signs from the universe, as Mom tends to, or believe that God has my back, as Louise claims, but it did seem to confirm that I had made the right decision. It would make life easier for both of us if Ted could walk again.

I pulled my surprise from the back pocket of my jeans and laid it carefully on his bedside table.

The smile slipped from his face as his eyes rested on the stack of folded papers encased in a light-blue page. “What is this?” He didn't touch the bundle.

I'd expected a thudding heart, tears tugging at my eyes, shaking hands. Instead, I felt perfectly calm. “I'm not asking for anything more than my fair share.”

“You can't.” He stared at the papers as if they'd bite him. “I don't own the ranch.”

“You can buy out my share and make it easier for everyone.”

“Dahlia said you'd stay until the election. She made you a deal. You can't renege.”

“I can't vouch for what Dahlia thought, but I never made a deal with her.”

“But the ranch is all you know. You can't make a living if you want to stay in Hodgekiss. You'd hate living anywhere else.”

I nodded in agreement. “It tears me up to leave Frog Creek.” But I needed to find my own place. Frog Creek was never really mine.

“What about all our years together? You can't leave me now.”

“You'll be fine. You just hate the idea that I made the choice instead of you. You'll get used to it.”

He sounded desperate. “How can you leave me when I'm laid out like this?”

I pointed at his yucky feet. “You're on the road to recovery. No doubt Roxy will be glad to nurse you.”

“Give me a little more time,” he pleaded.

I tipped my head toward the papers. “Have your lawyer look it over and he can call Annette Stromsberg.”

Now that the pleas didn't work, he folded his arms in a commanding way. “I'll give you a few days to think about it. If you leave Frog Creek, the only thing for you is to work for Bud and Twyla at the Long Branch.”

“We'll see.” I stepped back and propped the campaign sign on the chair below the TV. I had an overpowering craving for a greasy cheeseburger and giant basket of onion rings, and I planned on rushing to Ben's Burger Barn.

Ted couldn't read the sign until I moved toward the door. I was already two strides down the hall when I heard his bellow of outrage.

Ted didn't seem to appreciate my recycling skills. With a few strokes of a paintbrush, I'd cleverly repurposed all of Dahlia's signs. I kind of liked the new look.

VOTE FOR KATE FOX

GRAND COUNTY SHERIFF

TRUSTED AND EXPERIENCED

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SHANNON BAKER
lived for twenty years in the Nebraska Sandhills, where cattle outnumber people by more than 50 to 1. Baker was named the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers 2014 Writer of the Year. She now makes her home in sunny Tucson. You can sign up for email updates
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