href="#ulink_8a71ae7b-aa37-5f9b-9a92-5a947e163d28">Chapter Three
Cody slowly walked back to the remuda barn, which housed the mounts—mostly quarter horses—of the ranch hands and the Duke family.
He might as well get back to work and think about what he would say to Laura tonight without putting her on the defensive.
He probably blew it with his pointed questions, but they didn’t have time for a lot of polite conversation.
He looked over into the stall of Johnny’s horse, Pirate, a cute little black-and-white pinto pony. He could almost picture Laura’s son sitting in the tiny saddle as she led the horse around the paddock.
Cody wondered if the boy looked like her.
The Duke Ranch had four more barns with twenty stalls each, most of which housed prize Arabians, the best of which belonged to J.W.
The Dukes boarded Arabians for others and had an indoor and outdoor show ring for dressage competitions, auctions and some smaller rodeo events. The Duke Arabians attracted interest from all over the world, and “special visitors” were housed in guesthouses on the property.
He could never give something like this to Laura.
The fancy Arabian barns had their own staff for mucking out stalls and keeping everything spotless, but Cody knew that he’d be expected to fill in as needed. Or maybe not. If it got around that he’d murdered someone, even if they knew it was done to defend his family, it might send the exclusive clientele galloping away faster than their horses.
The thought of gathering a quarter ton of manure this afternoon with a pitchfork and shovel, loading it onto the honey wagon that was attached to a powerful ATV truck and then dumping it bored Cody to no end. He’d rather be training J.W.’s magnificent horses.
Cleaning the stalls was backbreaking work, but he was up for it. Yet he kept looking up at the ranch house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laura. There was quite a distance from the patio to the remuda barn, but he could spot her anywhere. Laura had a special walk, a kind of bounce in her step, and she always held her head high. Wherever she went, people gravitated to her sunny nature and quick smile. Her eyes sparkled as if she knew a special secret—a good secret—that she was just dying to tell.
But he hadn’t seen that Laura yet. She’d appeared briefly at the Double M this afternoon when she’d first seen him, but then that Laura had faded almost immediately.
Obviously, his questions bothered her, but at least she was going to meet him at the creek tonight.
He wanted to find out everything she’d been doing for the past three years, no matter how trivial or insignificant she might think it was. Just the sound of her voice would calm him, might convince him that they’d someday have a chance together again.
And what about the college guy? Did he visit Johnny? Did he take him riding and play with him?
He and Laura had been talking about running away together since high school, but it had been only a hopeful dream. With his mother and Cindy needing him, he couldn’t have just up and left.
Georgianna had married Hank Lindy, thinking that they’d all be financially secure forever. His mother assured Cody that Hank would be a good partner for her. He made her laugh. He owned the Duke Springs Tractor and Feed store, and wooed Georgianna with expensive gifts—not jewelry, but farm equipment and feed and grain for the ranch. She was enthralled with Lindy, who had been wonderful and attentive to Cindy...until that fateful night when he stepped over the line and began to knock his mother around until he drew blood.
Then Lindy was going to start with Cindy.
What a beast Lindy had turned out to be, and he’d ruined all their lives.
His and Laura’s hopeful dreams had turned into a hopeless mess.
Cody shook off the bad memories and drove the honey wagon to the manure pile, more like a manure mountain, and unloaded, then went back to reload.
Slim whistled sharply and motioned for him to hurry. Cody jogged over to him. “What’s up?”
“You’re supposed to meet with your parole officer and J.W. in J.W.’s office.” Slim lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “He wants to see you immediately.”
Cody had expected a summons sooner or later, but was hoping that it would be later.
“Where?” Cody knew that J.W. had an office at the ranch house. If the meeting was to be there, maybe he could see Laura again.
“In A-2.”
Cody forgot that J.W. had another office in the Arabian-2 barn, which was far from the ranch house.
“I’m on my way.” Cody hurried away from the smoke of Slim’s cigarette and headed down the gravel path leading to A-2.
Cody was in no rush to talk to J.W. or hear about his conditions of parole again from his parole officer. He was instructed on each of them at length before he was released from prison.
He slowed his progress through the desert to J.W.’s office, hoping that his new parole officer would be a decent guy and easygoing. As he walked, he enjoyed the occasional rush of a family of quails in front of him, as well as the dash of a roadrunner.
It was a great day to be free, and it’d be a great night with Laura.
Hawks looped above, black feathery kites against the turquoise sky. He’d like nothing better than to take a long hike through the mountains and connect with the land again. He’d missed being able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it.
Freedom would take some getting used to, but then again, he still was tethered to J. W. Duke.
On the left side of the low, grayish barn, the door to J.W.’s office was open, but Cody knocked on the door anyway. No one answered, so he paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before him.
J. W. Duke sat in an oversize black leather chair behind a huge, gleaming desk. J.W. was bigger than life and so was his gut. An unlit cigar stub stuck out of the corner of his mouth, and he was shouting into the phone in his usual gruff voice.
J.W. motioned for Cody to take a chair in front of him, but Cody decided to wait outside instead. He couldn’t stand breathing in the same air as J.W. any longer than he had to.
“Masters, I’m ready for you!” J.W. bellowed, slamming down the phone.
“I’m here. No need to yell.”
“Take a seat.” J.W. didn’t even glance up at him.
“I’ll stand.” Cody didn’t want to sit in front of the oak desk as if the other man was his parole officer.
Where was his parole officer anyway?
Although Cody should be grateful for whatever J.W. did to get him out of prison, he didn’t want J.W. adding his own spin to his conditions of release.
“Suit yourself, but at least stand where I can see you.”
Cody walked to the front of the desk. He liked this vantage
