cure me, exactly, but make me realize that I am capable and strong, that I can make decisions on my feet and assess a situation in the right frame of mind.”
“Wow. Now I feel bad for letting you talk me into coming to the ranch. Maybe you needed a few more days on the drive, and you could have gotten your head back where you want it.”
“I don’t think that would have done it,” Amy admitted sadly. “The drive was kind of a last-ditch effort to figure out my next career move. If I didn’t come back to work as a whole new person, I was going to put in for a transfer or start looking for another jurisdiction. Maybe that gun shot came at just the right time in my career…I’d already proven I’m tough and I’m capable, and that may have been what I needed on my résumé to get my foot in the door somewhere else, somewhere a little less…intense.” Amy looked out the window and was quiet after that, a fact that Carey couldn’t help but think had less to do with talking herself out and more to do with a heavy weight pressing down on her.
“Then you know I do need you on this trip, and I don’t just mean for the driving. We’re walking straight into the lion’s mouth on this, what with Mack possibly hiding out somewhere on the ranch.”
Amy went into full-on investigative mode without even realizing it. “Do you have any idea of why he’d be out there for revenge? What prompted him to start shooting up the place?”
Carey told Amy the long story of two of Mack’s girls showing up on the ranch and seeking shelter. He even told her where the girls were at that moment, how far from the property they would be, who knew about their whereabouts, and such. Amy nodded as Carey talked, taking it all in.
“So your dad just gave them a cabin to stay in, and hired a counselor to look after them? He’s either a saint or he has an interest in getting those girls away from Mack for some reason.”
Carey bristled slightly, not sure what Amy meant but had the impression that she insinuated Bernard’s involvement went beyond just helping out. “What are you saying about my dad, exactly?”
“I’m saying he’s putting himself and his entire family and staff at risk by taking in two females with a history of drug addiction and criminal activity. And judging by the very circumstances we’re speeding into, I’d say he either didn’t know the full extent of his actions, or he had a reason to act in the first place.”
Carey chewed that over thoughtfully, fighting the urge to let his anger boil up at the callous way Amy assessed people she’d never even met. “You’ve met my father, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time. There’s not an evil, hard-hearted bone in his body. Two pitiful, frightened girls—still practically kids—showed up on his doorstep after having walked almost forty miles to warn his family of a threat, and he gave them food, shelter, and assistance. I don’t want to meet the man who wouldn’t do exactly the same thing.”
Amy was quiet, staring out the window as she thought about Carey’s reaction. True, she didn’t know his father at all, and true, she might have let her work get in the way of seeing someone’s basic human kindness. Had her years as a cop and her struggles to fit in with some of the more aggressive, streetwise officers really made her so jaded that she couldn’t believe an elderly man might do something kind for two strung out, teenage runaways?
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental, and I certainly didn’t mean to imply that your dad was anything but an honest, caring person. It’s easy to see where you get your sensitive side.” Amy smiled genuinely and waited, not pressing the issue after upsetting Carey so much. He paused before answering her, but finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, too. I guess I just got really defensive. And I can admit that the whole thing might look suspicious to an outsider, but you’d just have to know my dad the way I do. He would rather die than turn someone away, especially someone in so much need.” Carey looked a little relieved to hear her explanation, but was still on edge at where the conversation had gone. That’s why Casey’s so good in these situations, he thought, wishing, once again, that his older brother was there to handle all of these things. He’s better at being…diplomatic…and boy, could I use someone who can take charge right now.
Chapter Eight
“Anders? Anders, please answer…” Bernard called again into the small handheld unit. It had been three hours since he’d last heard anything from Carson Hill Ranch. Both of his foremen paced around the small living space of the RV, their faces creased with worry as they tried to avoid bumping into each other as they paced. Terry bit nervously at a hangnail as he walked, not looking at his boss, too upset by the desperate look on the old man’s face as he tried yet again to talk to his son.
“It could be anything,” Dwayne said in his most reassuring voice. “Maybe the battery ran down on it. Maybe there’s a storm back home and the satellite’s not picking up, just like with the TV when it rains too hard. You can’t know why he’s not answering.”
Bernard ignored their attempts to make him feel better, certain that something was horribly wrong. Joseph sat next to his father without speaking, his leg bouncing up and down so hard underneath the table that the pens and papers moved around its surface. No one seemed to notice or care.
“All we can do is wait ‘til Carey gets back and reports in with some news,” Dwayne continued kindly. “There’s no sense letting it eat at you until we know something for sure.”
“How’s this going to affect the cattle drive, Boss?” Terry asked, trying hard not to seem uncaring, but needing some clarification about their jobs. They had 30,000 head to move and were now short Carey, as well as Casey. Regardless of what the vacationers wanted to do, there was the very real consideration of selling the herd and if they didn’t arrive on time, there’d be some angry brokers to deal with down the road.
“I just don’t know, Terry. I can’t even think about that right now. What if something happened?” Bernard asked without really speaking to anyone, staring at the useless phone in his hand as if it had betrayed him.
“Boss,” Dwayne said firmly, coming over to sit down across from the old man. “I know everything’s gonna be fine. There’s some explanation for this, and we’re all gonna laugh about how this gave you another patch of gray hair. I know he’s gonna be okay. They all will.” Bernard smiled and reached a weathered hand across the table to grasp Dwayne’s in his own.
“Thank you. I just wish I had half the confidence you have. All I have is a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I never should have left Anders behind. And all those staff members, I basically left an unarmed crew of women and a sickly teenage boy to fend for themselves against a dangerous, desperate man.”
“Hey, now,” Dwayne argued, trying to lift Bernard’s spirits. “my wife is a member of that ‘crew of women’ and I feel for any man, dangerous or not, who tries to get in that house with her around. She’s gonna look after Anders, and the rest of ‘em, too. You’ve known Amanda as long as I have, and I’ll tell you what, I almost feel sorry for Crazy Mack!” The foreman smiled at Bernard, putting aside his own fears for his wife for a moment, long enough to reassure the old rancher.
“Yes, I know what a spitfire Amanda is. Thank you, Dwayne. And I’m sorry I put your family in this situation.” Bernard looked even more morose than before, realizing how selfish he must have sounded for worrying only about his own son when it was his staff members’ families who were in harm’s way as well.
“You didn’t do anything, sir, it’s all that nutcase’s doing. We’re all gonna be just fine, and this will be just one more story
