Ransom Canyon Page 11

  It didn’t take much to know few kids came by to visit Tim. Lucas wasn’t really sure why he did.

  Mrs. O’Grady grinned. “You boys will have a third person for the visit tonight. I want you both to be on your best behavior. No ‘adverbs,’ if you know what I mean.”

  If Mrs. Patterson was the company, Lucas had better think of an exit plan fast. The Baptist preacher’s wife could have been the next plague to hit the Egyptians if Moses had needed another one.

  “Lauren Brigman walked down from her house just to bring Tim cookies.” Mrs. O’Grady relieved Lucas’s panic. “She’s such a sweet girl.”

  Lucas heard the laughter behind Tim’s closed bedroom door.

  When he shoved it open, he saw Lauren sitting in the desk chair rocking back and forth like she was on a mechanical bull. Tim had his cast propped on a pillow on his half-bed. They were both staring at the floor.

  Tim spotted Lucas and grinned. “Hey, Lucas, look what Lauren brought me.”

  Lucas glanced down at a box turtle slowly climbing across a shaggy rug. “I was hoping she brought cookies.”

  When Lauren raised her head her eyes were full of laughter, and he couldn’t look away.

  “I brought chocolate chip cookies, too. They’re in the bag. But, I found this turtle on the way over. Since Tim can’t walk around the lake, I brought a lake friend to visit him.”

  “Tim,” his mother’s voice came from the hallway. “You are not keeping that turtle.” When no one commented, she added, “I’ll bring milk to go with the cookies.”

  All three waited until they heard her footsteps retreating before Tim whispered, “Mom’s driving me nuts. If I could get this cast off I’d beat myself to death with it. She’s been babying me since I got home from the hospital. If you two didn’t come over now and then, I’d go mad, and, believe me, you don’t want to see an insane man on crutches.”

  Lucas winked at Lauren. They’d seen each other at school in passing, different times, different days, but tonight they’d managed to accidentally bump into one another. Neither was paying any attention to Tim as he rambled on about how his mother tried to spoon-feed him.

  “What can we do to help?” Lucas finally broke the rant. He took a seat on the other side of the bed, where he could talk to Tim and look at Lauren. “You’re in a cast. I guess waterskiing is out, and it’s too cold to swim. You’d sink anyway.” When no one laughed, he added, “We could watch a movie.”

  “No, my parents got the bill for all the movies I’ve rented on cable.” Tim frowned. “I can’t buy another one. My mom says we’ve got eighty channels, surely I can find something free to watch.”

  Lucas shook his head. “It would almost be worth the trouble of sawing that cast off to watch you try to beat yourself to death. At least it’s something the reality shows haven’t thought of yet.”

  All three laughed and began to just talk. About everything: school, sports, graduation, movies they hated. The one topic no one of the three brought up was Reid Collins or the night at the Gypsy House. Lucas figured each had their reasons for letting the legend live about what had happened that night at the old abandoned house. Lauren was too shy to go up against Reid. Tim might be foggy about what really happened, and Lucas simply wanted to stay out of trouble. If he said anything, Mr. Collins might let his father go.

  It mattered little who’d done what that night, but Lucas would never get to go to college if his dad got fired and he had to help out his family.

  After an hour, when the cookies were gone and Tim looked tired, Lucas offered to walk Lauren home. “It’s on my way. I’m parked about halfway between your place and here.”

  She nodded like it wasn’t necessary, or maybe she didn’t care.

  As they left Tim’s house, Lucas said, “I don’t have to walk you if you’d rather be alone.”

  “No. It’s not that. I just don’t want to go back. My mother spent the night last night. She was all nice for a while, even drove me to Bailee so we could get our nails done today, then we spent time going through old photo albums at the house. But at dinner she started arguing over how bad pizza was for her diet as well as mine, and my father jumped right into the fight. From my dietary habits they spun off on why I’m second in the class and not first and how the high school isn’t good enough for someone with my mind.”

  “What did you say?” Lucas took her hand as they stepped onto the damp grass near the shore.

  “I said goodbye. Pop and I already agreed I could use visiting Tim as my escape plan.” She laughed suddenly. “I didn’t really make the cookies. I got them at the bakery, but since my mom freaked out over the pizza, I decided I’d better make sure the cookies disappeared.”

  They walked for a while in silence. The night held the smell of a storm in the thick air, but he barely felt it. He knew this moment would only last for a short time, and he wanted to remember everything. The wind whipping up off the water. The new moon so thin it looked like a tear in the night’s canvas. The feel of Lauren’s hand in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  He thought of asking her out on a date, but she was fifteen and he was seventeen. Her father, or mother, probably wouldn’t let her go. Plus, he didn’t have the time or the money to date. “How long do you have before you have to be home?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to show you something, but it will take half an hour.”

  Her fingers laced with his. “Let’s go.”

  Then, they were running as if every second counted. A few minutes later they were laughing as they climbed into his truck. He shoved ropes, spurs and all kinds of cowboy gear out of the way to clear enough room for her to sit beside him.

  “I could always ride in back,” she offered.

  “Nope. It’s a mess back there. Saddles and bloody chaps from working yearlings. I leave it back there so it can air out before I put it in the tack room.”

  They both laughed again as he piled books in her lap. He slipped in beside her and shifted the pickup into gear.

  She ducked low as he slowly drove past her house as if they were running away on an adventure.

  Lucas never felt lighthearted, he had too many plans, too much to do, too much responsibility on his shoulders as the oldest child. But at this moment, with Lauren at his side, he was Peter Pan and she was his Wendy. They were flying.

  Five miles out, he turned at a back entrance of the Double K Ranch. No one but cattle trucks used the road, and it was too far from the headquarters of the ranch or town for anyone to see his lights.

  She giggled as they bounced their way across open land to an old windmill painted in black across a shadowy sky. The stars were out now, the Milky Way sparkling like a cluster of tiny diamonds scattered above them.

  He cut the engine, stepped out and offered his hand. “I found this place one night when I was late going home.”

  They moved over the uneven ground to where a water trough stretched below the windmill. “If you step in something soft, you’ll know cattle have been here lately getting a drink, but I don’t think this pasture is used much in the winter.”

  Neither looked down as he whispered, “Listen. It’s like a symphony out here.” The clank of the windmill as the rusty fan blades turned in the wind did seem like music. Closing his eyes, Lucas heard it all. The slough of the water, the dripping from the pipe. The rustle of the dried leaves. The swish of buffalo grass. The lonely sound of a meadowlark’s call.

  Somewhere in the stand of trees a quarter mile away, an owl hooted and a hawk’s cry sounded on the breeze. This was his idea of heaven.

  “I love standing here listening and knowing that it must have sounded just the same for years.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She moved against his shoulder.

  “I hoped you’d hear it. I come out here once in
a while. It makes me feel at peace. Around my house it’s never quiet. When the noise gets too much for me, I come here and listen to the quiet. Sometimes when the crowd at school is nothing but nervous yelling and giggling or I’m somewhere I don’t want to be, I think of here.”

  They were silent for a while. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she cuddled against his side.

  “You know, Lauren, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

  “I know. My pop gave me his usual candy heart.”

  Lucas pulled her against him and kissed her forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day. If you were older and my girl, I’d get you flowers, not candy.”

  She laughed softly. “Eventually, I will be older. I’d love to get flowers. Yellow roses, of course.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Then without a word they walked back to the truck.

  Neither said a word as he drove back, but her hand rested in his. He wasn’t sure how she felt, but for him Lauren was like the windmill place. She felt so right by his side.

  When they were close to the lake, she asked, “Why’d you take me out there, Lucas?”

  “I wanted you to know about it, so when life gets too much, you’ll always have a place to go. Mr. Kirkland probably won’t know you’re there, and my guess is even if he did know, he wouldn’t care. I’ll be leaving for college soon. You can have my secret place if you like. Sounds like, with your folks, you’ll be needing it.”

  “You’re right, and I’ll go out there, too. My mom told me she’s giving me her old car for my sixteenth birthday. She said after three years she really needs a new one anyway. I don’t imagine Pop will take that well.”

  “Do they ever agree?”

  “No. It’s like fighting is the only way they know how to talk.”

  He turned down the long decline to the lake and her house. “My folks never fight. They don’t have time with all us kids. Sometimes I hear them whispering after we’ve all gone to bed. I imagine they’re reintroducing themselves to one another.”

  Lauren smiled. “I’d love to be part of a big family.”

  He stopped just before the last bend in the road and turned off his car lights. “Who knows, maybe someday you will be. You’d better get out here, so it’ll look like you walked in from Tim’s place.”

  She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for taking me to a symphony tonight.”

  “You’re welcome, mi cielo.”

  As she climbed out, she asked, “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll tell you one day,” he said.

  She shrugged and closed the door to his old pickup.

  He watched her until she disappeared around the bend, then he drove home.

  When he left here and times got stressful, he’d think of his special place and picture every detail in his mind. Maybe the memory would calm him.

  When he visualized, Lucas knew he’d see Lauren there, too.

  * * *

  LAUREN SLIPPED THROUGH the back door and tugged off her tennis shoes, now covered in mud and sand. The air in the house was warm on her skin, but she could almost feel the frost between her parents. Pop was glaring at the TV. Mom was in the kitchen, checking messages on her phone.

  “How was Tim?” Pop asked.

  “Better. Says his mother is babying him so badly he’s thinking of beating himself to death with his cast.”

  The sheriff didn’t blink. “That would be one horrible crime scene. Tell him to drag his ass over the county line first. I don’t want to be the one to have to deal with his body.”

  She smiled at her pop’s sense of humor.

  Her mother stood and walked to the doorway. “That’s a sick thing to say, Dan. I wonder that you haven’t warped the child.”

  Pop ignored Margaret. “I saw Reyes’s old pickup rattle past about half an hour ago. Was Lucas visiting Tim, too?”

  Lauren nodded. “Yeah, we figured since he wanted to die, we would throw him in the lake. With that cast he sank like a rock, and bubbles rose for five minutes. Lucas headed back home after the assisted suicide. After all, with Tim gone, there was no one to do all the talking. I had to stay behind and clean up the milk and cookies mess. Wouldn’t want Tim’s mom to deal with a funeral and crumbs everywhere.”

  Pop glanced at her, holding up one finger as if to say wait for it.

  Then he smiled as Margaret fired. “You have warped her with your perverted cop humor. She’ll probably be scarred for life. I can just imagine what the breakfast conversation is like around here.”

  Her parents were so busy bickering, neither noticed Lauren leaving. She walked to her room as an amazing realization hit her. Her father had baited her mother. She’d guessed a long time ago that Margaret loved fighting, and now, apparently, her pop had caught the bug.

  As she curled up on her bed, she tried to push the sounds of their voices aside and remember the way the night sounded out by the windmill.

  This time in her life, this night, what had happened between her and Lucas all felt so good except for one thing.

  She knew she could never mention how she was feeling now to her pop. For the first time in her life she had a secret she’d never share with anyone but Lucas. Just between us, he had said. The way he’d saved her life, the kiss at the hospital and now tonight.

  Lauren closed her eyes, knowing she’d never mention Lucas, or the way she felt about him, to anyone. But she’d never forget the way she felt when his hand covered hers.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Staten

  THE LAST THING Staten had told Quinn when he’d left her place Saturday morning was for her to call him. He wanted her to know he would be there when she needed him, or if she just wanted to talk and have dinner. He wasn’t going anywhere just because he learned her dark secret, and he wasn’t planning to push to know details.

  She had become more to him than just a friend. He now felt protective of her. Hell, it was more than that, but Staten didn’t need to think about it now.

  When she didn’t call, he waited. He would give her space.

  After a month, he figured he’d given her enough time. He wanted to see his gentle Quinn again. He wanted her to know that if the past still haunted her, he’d stand near. He needed to make sure they were all right. Quinn wasn’t an emotional woman. Hell, she’d carried around the horror of what Lloyd had done to her for years. The news that the piano master was coming to her world had upset her deeply. As her friend, he saw it as his job to walk beside her through this. If conflict came, he was more than willing to stand in front of her and fight her fight.

  The idea of catching the next flight to New York and flattening the guy had crossed his mind a few hundred times, but he had a feeling that wasn’t what Quinn would want him to do.

  Staten had tried calling Quinn several times but wasn’t surprised she hadn’t answered. She didn’t carry her phone when she worked outside. The first two weeks of February had been cold, but most of the days were sunny. So the Monday after Valentine’s Day, he drove into town to make a few stops, and one of them would be at Quinn’s place.

  After he had breakfast with his grandmother and ate a few of her leftover Valentine’s cookies, his mind turned to Quinn, even while his granny rattled on.

  He liked the idea of showing up to Quinn’s place in the morning. She’d know he came to check on her, and that was all. They could have coffee and talk.

  “Thanks for delivering the magazines, dear.” Granny patted him on the shoulder, pulling Staten from his thoughts of Quinn.

  Granny ordered a half dozen tabloids every month and refused to have them mailed to her address at the Evening Shadows Retirement Community.

  “You’re welcome. I needed to be in town this morning for a few errands anyway.” He walked around, noticing a new sh
elf in her kitchen. “You know, you could have the magazines delivered here.”

  She laughed. “I know, but I like seeing you. The mailman never eats my French toast.”

  “See you next week.” Staten kissed her goodbye and headed over to Lavender Lane.

  The need to see Quinn was an ache deep inside him. He told himself he was worried about her, but Staten knew it was more than that. Things were changing between them, and he had no way of stopping what was happening. He liked being in control of his world. He believed when something changed it was usually for the worse. He had spent a month working hard trying to keep his mind off her and their new relationship. He’d kept saying she would call, but she hadn’t.

  When he pulled on to her place the air was as silent as ever. It couldn’t be much past eight in the morning. Maybe Quinn was sleeping in.

  Staten grinned. He’d like waking her up. They’d be starting just where he planned to end up tonight...in bed. He never made love to her in daylight. He wasn’t sure she’d even be open to the idea.

  As he pulled his truck around back so it wouldn’t be seen from the road, he glanced toward the house and slammed on the brakes.

  The sheriff’s cruiser was pulled up close to the porch, where Staten always parked.

  Staten switched off the engine and was out of his truck before the motor settled. He ran, heart pounding, toward the door. She worked out here all alone. A million accidents could have happened. She could have been hurt in the fields—snake bites happened all the time—or she might have been shot by some idiot popping off rounds at her Lavender Lane sign.

  Hell, she could have fallen in her house. Could have lain there for days, dying an inch at a time.

  His boots stormed across the porch, and he hit her door so hard it rattled off the hinges. “Quinn!” he yelled. “Quinn.”

  Nothing. No Quinn. No sheriff.

  Staten stomped through the house, noticing her phone was still on the stand charging. For a second he hesitated at the door to her bedroom. If she was in bed with the sheriff, what would he do? No, impossible, he thought as he shoved the door open and saw a neatly made bed.