***Giddy up! I'm back in the saddle after a well appreciated vacation to warm, sandy beaches and the soothing sounds of surf. Rejuvenated and ready to get this story up and rolling again. Woo!***
***Things are not going smoothly on the ranch...and some players aren't quite aware that they've jumped into the deep end without their floaties. Not good. There's different kinds of tension, and some of it's not going to lead to warm fuzzies! ***
***To my ladies: Thanks for holding me up and urging me on! Couldn't do it without ya! Hugs!***
"Speakin' to you, pig shit..."
– High Plains Drifter
-o-o-
"We all have our ghosts, Marshal. You hunt your way, I'll hunt mine."
– Hangem High
The wind had shifted. Breezes that had yesterday smelled faintly of valley shrubs and diesel as they swept across town now carried the clean scent of high desert pine and a hint of snow from the far off higher ranges near Albuquerque and Santa Fe. It may not have brought the rain carelessly predicted, but the cold front had finally descended upon the quiet mesas and righted the weather to the season. A noticeably cooler morning that promised deep blue skies and jackets tied about waists by midday.
Tilting his face to the rising sun, Brad closed his eyes and let the fledgling rays warm his cheeks. He'd been riding for a half hour, the main ranch now in sight as his mare ambled eagerly towards breakfast, and the chill of pre-dawn seemed to have soaked into his bones. Slowed his thoughts into reminiscence. He remembered riding out before first light with Gary when they were barely big enough to haul the saddles out of the tack room. Sneaking off with BB guns and old traps with grand plans to hunt elusive coyotes and stray armadillos. Boys that still believed the world was theirs to conquer from the back of a horse…still believed they'd do it together. Dreams.
Resettling himself into the saddle with a snort, Brad refocused on the trail and dismissed the old useless thoughts as he could now hear the distant calls of the wranglers while they opened the barns to greet the day. He couldn't say he actually missed his brother...it was more of a pervasive sense of regret that he hadn't offloaded the younger man sooner. A feeling that he, himself, could've been great had he only had the foresight to see that a sibling more interested in the welfare of others would drag him down. He had waited too long and shared too much with Gary, and the time to simply walk away had passed before he noticed. It really was his own fault, he supposed. Some odd sense of loyalty or obligation that circulated with shared DNA had led him to doubt his own disdain, and he actually felt guilty for a while afterwards. Just for a while. Brad pulled off his hat to run fingers through his hair and shake off the ghosts of the past. He was thinking of Gary too much these days. Like the girls in the gulley, the dead should remain dead.
A muffled 'boom' echoed through the canyon he had ridden out of, and Brad looked over his shoulder instinctively. It wouldn't be noticed, the noises of demolition and test aircraft a common occurrence in the empty deserts, but knowing the source of the sound had him checking shadows. He swore he could still smell the sweet, putrid scent of decay though he had traveled far beyond its reach. Carter had called him at quarter past four with the news; they had found the missing girls. Two stupid girls who thought they could elude the desert and his men three days ago. Shaking his head, Brad had to concede to the women; they were lucky death and the coyotes had found them first. In whatever order, he didn't care. A sense of relief replaced trepidation as he at least knew the girls hadn't reached civilization…hadn't alerted anyone. He was too close to making this deal.
Carter had stayed behind with two men to bury the bodies in a rock slide…no chance of discovery by errant hikers or scavengers. Brad looked back over his shoulder again. Carter. Lately, his lead ranch hand had been nothing but the bearer of bad news...bad news and bad feelings. There was an undercurrent of defiant posturing that was leaving a sour taste in his mouth…making him warier than he'd prefer to be at this juncture. He needed someone watching his back, not targeting it.
His cell phone chirped an alert and he startled despite himself. "What?" he answered curtly. His face flushed with anger as Carter's voice filled his ear, and he kicked the horse into a trot. "How long have they been here?" he snapped. A sense of urgency crawled along his skin as he cursed under his breath while Carter talked.
"I'm going to fucking fix it, that's what," Brad growled in response to Carter's inquiry. "Just shut up and meet me in my office when you get back."
-o-o-
Carter paced. Wall to wall, running his knuckles along the back of the same chair every time he passed. He grumbled under his breath and sighed at every other turn and Brad's last nerve was ready to snap.
"Either sit the fuck down or get the fuck out," he hissed around the mouthpiece of his phone, glaring daggers at the larger man.
"You've been on hold for twenty fucking minutes - "
"I know how long I've been on hold!" Brad growled. His hand slammed down on the desktop in emphasis. "The asshole's going to make me wait as long as he can to prove some goddamn point."
Carter stopped, crossed his arms with a sneer. "You wouldn't catch me waiting on the whims of some spic," he spat. "Letting some crack head wanna be treat me like a begging dog."
Brad's gaze flattened into a deadly stare. "And that's exactly why you'll always be sniffing someone else's ass, moron. You don't understand how to play - " His attention was jerked to a voice over the phone.
"Lùcho? Como estàs?" Brad silently cursed the sweat that broke out on his forehead. He wasn't expecting to get the older brother, and he doubted his smattering of Spanish would impress. "Am I to understand that Goyo informed you of our potential problem?" He had tersely relayed Carter's information to the first man that had answered the number.
Wincing as the voice on the other end let loose a string of creative curses, Brad methodically shredded the butt of his recently smoked cigarette. "No…no," he tried to sound reassuring, "I haven't seen anyone suspicious here at the ranch itself. No one's been out to the tunnels for sure. It's just a potential issue in town."
He flicked the ruined butt out the window and pinched the bridge of his nose; irritation growing to the point of carelessness as the man continued to protest. "Listen, Lùcho," he interrupted, "I don't know whose operation pinged the radar. We've both been giving the feds stiffies for a couple of years now. What I need…you need…is clean up. Your kind of clean up. If they're sniffing at you, they're gonna find you. If they're sniffing at me…they're still gonna find you. Consider this more of a courtesy call than anything."
Carter had resumed pacing and Brad turned to rest his forehead against the window pane, staring out onto the stables as he gripped the wooden jamb above his head. For a moment, he was distracted as he watched a few of the new wranglers. The tall lean one was talking to Eliot, and the two men shared a laugh. An easy camaraderie that made him grit his teeth as he pondered his current situation. He knew he was skating on thin ice with the eldest Garcia, but this was no time to show weakness. He listened to Carter's grumblings again while he was excluded from the hushed argument on the other side of the phone line. Maybe it was time for a sacrifice…
Lùcho barked a few more questions and Brad made a decision. "Listen, if you're worried about a leak, it would most likely be Parker White. Pansy ass cop in town who's been a little too interested in what we really do out here. Carter's talked to him a few times."
"Jesus, Brad!" Carter protested quietly, eyes wide. Brad waved a silencing hand at him with a glare.
"I don't care, really," Brad responded to some question. "I just want it neutralized and you have the people to do it. My resources are not only limited, they're likely to be messy. I doubt either of us want a mess?"
His brief flirtation with bravado fled like a lover out the window at the man's low and threatening words. Slowly lowering himself into his chair, Brad kept his voice steady. "Yes…this is the one and only time. I agree. You're right…that would be highly inconvenient for you." He took a breath to continue, but the connection was severed. Snapping the phone shut, he twirled it in his fingers for a moment while continuing to stare out the window. Carter, somehow sensing his fragile grip on reason, was blissfully silent.
Brad finally slid the phone into its holder and regarded his deputy with a furious gaze. "It's taken care of."
/\/\/\/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\/\/\/
"C'mon, Mary, everyone's doing it," Diane cajoled in a sing-song, lightly punching Mary's arm as the trio of women walked towards the main barn.
Mary shot her a sideways glare and a sarcastic reply. "Gee, hate to miss the lemming fest, but I'll pass."
"You know it's not just riding events, right?" Sophie asked. "You read the flyer; you can do ropework, target shooting…or there's always the greased pig wrangle." They all snickered.
Mary's mind immediately flashed back to the Marshall-witnessed power struggle between her and Eleanor in the office that one day. Greased up…he'd like that. Unable to completely smother the chuckle, she conceded slightly. "Fine. I'll consider the target shooting. But don't get your hopes up."
"You better be watching though," Diane said. "I hear there's some interesting wagering on the side for the wrangler events."
"What? Do you read the scrambled eggs like tea leaves or something?" Mary peered at Diane as they entered the barn. "Where's your intel coming from?"
"'Intel?'" echoed Sophie. "Now you sound like a cop. My ex-boyfriend was a cop. He was always talking about 'intel' and 'assessment threats' or some such crap."
Mary stared at Sophie for a moment while her brain veered onto the shoulder. "Um, well, there's a lot of cop wanna-be's at the jail. Hoping their dicks grow longer if they toss around the jargon."
The horses whinnied their welcomes as the rest of the women slowly wandered into the barn, and Mary was happy to see Manuel and Eliot amble towards them. Distraction…of the male variety. Nothing better to abduct the current topic of conversation. She zipped up her jacket in the coolness of the barn and shoved her hands into the pockets. Though grateful the change in weather would bring cooler days, it had been hard to crawl out of the warm bed this morning. Especially with the prospect of potential equine conniption fits…or the eventual awkward moment with her partner.
She licked her lips unconsciously as she again thought about that kiss. That unexpectedly toe curling kiss. The morning became slightly warmer as her thoughts wandered back into the shadows of night and desire. She could still feel his palm spread along her ribcage…hear his faint groan of pleasure…
"Mary?" The voice penetrated her wayward thoughts and she looked up quickly. "What?" She was irritated by her inattention.
"Just waiting for your decision, darlin'." Eliot's crooked grin could soothe colicky babies. "Manuel's taking a group for a challenging trail ride and picnic, and I'm working with anyone who wants to hone some riding and training skills. We've got a few foals we're introducing to new activities if you're interested."
Baby horses sounded infinitely more attractive than straining sore muscles while humping up another trail drenched in sweat. They were told to saddle up their horses as the wranglers tended to their own duties, planning to meet either at the trail head or in the corral when ready. The women chit chatted while they drug out tack and supplies, Mary trying to focus on what she had learned the days previous and pick the correct equipment. Satisfied with her choices, she lugged everything to Marshal's stall. He nickered and bobbed his head at her approach.
"Don't get excited, Numbnuts," she greeted him. "This isn't going to be quick or pretty. Kinda like a drunk fuck; we'll both be a sweaty mess, but no one's quite sure if the effort was worth it."
Twently minutes later, she was sure Marshal was laughing at her and the saddle still looked crooked. Most of the other women had made their way outside, and Mary was left alone to glare at her four legged companion. The horse twitched and stomped while swatting at flies with his tail, and Mary batted said tail away from her face. "Glue," she muttered, reaching over to adjust the buckle. A faint humming and murmuring reached her ears. A child's voice.
Standing to peer over the stall door, she located the source of the sound crouched behind one of the large tack trunks. Leanne was kneeling in the dirt singing softly to a pair of kittens that batted at her handfuls of straw. The girl seemed oblivious to Mary's struggles or to the other denizens of the barn, lost in her world of play. That all changed in an instant as a faint shout reached her ears.
"Leanne!" A male voice. "Leanne! Now!" She watched as Leanne's expression grew furtive and worried. The child folded into a starter's stance as she scooted nearer the wall. Hiding and waiting for the chance to bolt. Mary felt her own muscles tense in response.
She could see the river through the gingerbread lattice surrounding the dark recesses under the porch; sat crouched and still in the stuffy hidey hole where the smells of old Chinese food and dead things occasionally gave way to a whiff of briny water. No one had ever found her here, tucked away down the alley and behind the boxes that slowly decayed over time. She could hear her mother's faint calls, but the tone and intensity hadn't yet reached the screeching desperation that required a response.
Mary picked at the scab on her right knee as she eyed the larger boats chugging towards the harbor, oblivious to the stray cobweb in her hair and dirt under her fingernails while she watched the men walking on the docks. Anonymous figures that could be anyone…and maybe someone. Maybe that's where her Daddy had gone. One day had stood upon the dock and looked for her before he jumped onto a boat to float away into the sea. Off on an adventure that he would surely return from in order to regale her and Brandi with stories of far off places; loaded down with trinkets painted with palm trees and hula girls. Just like the ones Jenny Romanowski was showing off at school.
She knew Jenny was lying. Knew her uncle hadn't gotten on an airplane and flew to where summer was winter and the world was upside down. It was stupid. Jenny was stupid. Mary winced as the scabbed pulled away to leave a drop of blood welling in its place. She wiped it away with her palm and again watched the boats. Hoping.
"Mary!" Jinx's calls were getting closer and Mary sighed as she rested her forehead against he wooden slats. It was time to go before she was discovered. She scuttled backwards out from under the porch, and reached up to tighten her pigtails while slowly walking down the alley towards the street. Her mother rounded the corner, carrying Brandi, just as she stepped into the sunlight.
"Mary Shannon," Jinx exclaimed, exasperated, "didn't you hear me calling and calling? The whole neighborhood knows I'm looking for you." Mary just shrugged. Brandi smiled and reached for her, babbling. She took the wriggling toddler from her mother with a small smile, and Jinx straightened her dress and turned to march back towards the apartment, assuming her oldest daughter would dutifully follow. "You know we need to be home before five, Mary. Henry expects dinner on the table and you need to help with Brandi. Why do you make me come look for you? And you're a mess!..."
The litany of transgressions were ignored as Mary turned her attention to securing her baby sister onto her hip. She looked to where the child patted her arms, studied the bruises from the day before and wondered when the first boats docked in the morning.
"Leanne!" The shout shattered Mary's thoughts, and she identified the voice as Brad's. Leanne looked even more frantic, and years of hiding people dictated her next actions.
"Leanne," she called quietly to the child and motioned her over. "Come here…quickly. Before he gets in here."
The girl swung her head around to stare at her for moment. Deciding. Just as Mary thought it would be too late, Leanne dashed out from behind the tack trunk and raced over to slip into Marshal's stall. She squatted down between Mary's legs and the stall door and closed her eyes. Mary only had a moment to shift her position before Brad strode into the barn. His gaze darted around and landed on her and he forced a weak smile.
"Miss Shepherd." He tipped his hat reflexively. "Have you seen a little girl with black hair go through here just recently? I'm trying to round her up for her mama."
Liar. Mary knew Sheryl's schedule, and she was home sleeping while the nanny had charge of the children. She furrowed her brow and shook her head. "Sorry, no. Haven't seen her at all." Brad's eyes flashed angrily as he swore and she stepped closer to Leanne's hidden form.
"If you do see her," he growled, "send her to my office in the main lodge. Immediately." Turning abruptly, he stalked down the aisle and disappeared out the back doors. Mary waited a few minutes before stepping back to regard the child now staring up at her. She reached down to help Leanne up.
"Your uncle didn't sound very happy with you." Leanne's gaze dropped to the floor and she shrugged. Mary waited, but the girl offered no explanation. "Is he mad at you a lot?" Another shrug and a reluctant nod. Marshal stepped over to nudge the side of Leanne's head, and she reached out to stroke his nose.
"He doesn't like us. Me and my brother." The girl's voice was barely above a whisper.
Mary felt an ache in her chest at the sadness in the words. She could only imagine the hoops the child had likely jumped through in trying to win affection from her uncle. "I'm sorry, Leanne, that must be lonely. Does he yell at you a lot?" She had a thousand questions running through her head and probably about a minute to ask them. "Does he hit you?"
Leanne's gaze flew up to meet her eyes in a startled glance, then slid sideways as the girl stared at the wall in a long moment of silence. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said flatly. Mary straightened in surprise, then sighed and smiled reassuringly.
"No, you're right. You're not. Do you have somewhere safe to go?" Somehow, she knew the answer, and was relieved when the girl nodded. "Okay, run there now and try to stay out of your uncle's way, okay?" Leanne was out the door before she finished giving her leave, and Mary followed out into the aisle to watch the child sprint out of sight. She felt nervous. Old fears mixed with the ever present wariness of the operation.
"You need some help, Mare?" Marshall's voice sounded behind her and she whirled with an arm up in warding, oblivious to his approach. He stepped back and regarded her with concern. "You okay?" His eyes darted around quickly to check the shadows for threats; looked her over.
Mary released a breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, once more glancing towards the doorway Leanne had left through. "Yeah. But I'm getting a bad feeling about this whole thing."
Marshall's look of concern deepened and he took a step closer. "What happened?"
She opened her mouth to tell him, then realized that if he had come looking for her, she had been missed. Therefore, people were waiting. It was no time to explain the heebie jeebies. "It's nothing. I'll fill you in later." She brushed by him to reach into the gray's stall and lead Marshal out. "If we don't get back out there, Diane will think I'm assaulting your virtue and storm in to get a piece." Marshall's slightly alarmed look amused her and she chuckled. "Let's go, Cowboy."
They were out the door and halfway to the corral before Mary stopped looking over her shoulder.
***I'm not feeling the happy! Brad is *not* having a good week...and now he's a little off his game. Thanks for hanging in there with me! Please REVIEW if you're still out there...let me know how I'm doing!***