Montana Legacy, page 14
Rafe nodded. “Exactly. Amy found them and turned them over to the McCords. But then, I’m not surprised.” His tone lowered for dramatic emphasis.
Everyone bent close to hear.
“She and Jesse have been getting really cozy, if you know what I mean. I saw him coming back from her place at dawn.”
His words brought the desired reaction. Delia hissed out a breath. Ledge rolled his eyes and his lips thinned into what was the closest he ever came to a smile. A couple of the others exchanged knowing looks.
“And Amy’s truck has been at the McCord ranch a couple of nights, too.”
Delia crossed her arms over her chest. “If Otis Parrish knew about this, he’d pack his daughter off to Helena without another word.”
“Seems to me he did that once.” Harding Jessup grinned. “But she’s not a teenager now, Delia. She’s all grown up and in charge of her own life. Plus, she’s become a mighty fine teacher, I hear.”
Delia clucked her tongue. “She’s still living under Otis’s roof. He has every right to expect her to respect his feelings. This is a fine way for a daughter to behave while her father is dying.”
“Now, Delia.” Orley Peterson patted her hand to silence her. “You don’t know that Otis is dying.”
“He’s in treatment, isn’t he? Has anybody asked Doc Wheeler what his chances are?”
“Not my business.” Mayor Rowe Stafford turned toward another table, having heard enough to pass along to any and all who would listen. And he had no doubt there were plenty willing to listen when it came to news concerning the McCord boys. “I don’t think you ought to make it yours either. Besides, Doc wouldn’t tell you even if he knew.”
Delia watched him and Orley leave, then gathered the others closer to whisper a few choice words before breaking up the crowd and leading the way toward her table.
Daffy approached, pencil in hand, and fixed Delia with a hawk’s stare. Her rusty voice lowered a notch. “You folks going to eat, or are you already filled up on gossip?”
Delia looked as though she’d sucked a lemon. “I suppose you’re going to claim you’re above a little gossip?”
“Not at all. I hear enough of it every day to make my ears bleed. But most of it’s like that old greasy stuff we scrape off the grill. When it’s fresh and clean, it cooks a heap of chicken and fries, and we love sharing. When it gets old, the only thing it’s good for is the critters out back. The stuff you’re talking about is old as the hills, and too rancid for my taste. I doubt even the critters would care for it.”
“If you’re through spouting your folksy words of wisdom”—Delia cut her off with a wave of her hand—“I’ll have the special.”
“Make that two,” her friend said.
“Two specials,” Daffy shouted to her sister, Vi, manning the grill. “With a side of our best fries, cooked in… fresh oil.”
She walked away, humming to herself, while many in the room struggled not to laugh out loud.
Still, with the seeds of gossip sown, it was only a matter of time before speculation, jealousy, and outright lies would begin to blossom.
“You doing okay, Dad?” Amy helped her father from the truck and up the steps of their house.
“Fine. Just help me to my room, girl.” Every word was an effort, and he was sweating profusely despite the cold wind that swirled around them.
Once he was settled into bed, Amy headed toward the barn to finish her chores. A glance at the distant field had her puzzled. The hill that should have been dotted with cows was oddly empty.
She started across the field at a run, spotting a section of fence that was down. There was no sign of the cows.
Frantic, she raced back to the barn and saddled Old Red.
Horse and rider followed a creek that ran between the Parrish property line and that of the McCord ranch. Several miles distant Amy came upon her cows, some standing leisurely in the stream and drinking, others grazing on a nearby hillside, mingling with the McCord herd.
Cal Randall spotted Amy and drove his truck across the field.
In a courtly gesture he whipped his wide-brimmed hat from his head. “Afternoon, Amy. Something I can do for you?”
“I’m sorry, Cal. I just found a section of my fence down and”—she waved a hand—“my herd wandered down here while I was in town seeing to my dad. I’ll get them home as fast as I can.”
“I’ll get some of the wranglers to give you a hand.”
She slid from the saddle. “There’s no need…”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “No sense herding them home until that fence is mended, or you’ll just have to do it all over again tomorrow. First let me see that fence. When it’s properly repaired, I’ll have my men bring your herd back. In the meantime, why don’t you just head home and tend to your pa.”
When she realized that she couldn’t win the argument, she let out a long, deep sigh. “Thanks, Cal. I owe you.”
He gave her a smile. “Not at all. That’s what neighbors are for.”
As soon as Cal pulled up to the Parrish fence line, Jesse, Zane, and Wyatt clambered down from the truck and began assembling their tools.
Zane pulled his ever-present video camera from his pocket and began filming each word and movement.
Jesse looked over at him. “Okay. I get that you’re going to document every damned thing we do, but can you lend a hand first?”
Zane gave one of the famous McCord grins. “I figure you two are doing such a great job, I’ll just sit this one out.”
“Like hell.” Jesse tossed a pair of leather gloves, hitting Zane in the face. “Put these on and get to work.”
“Yes, sir.” Laughing, Zane joined them.
Cal tucked his cell phone into his shirt pocket before exiting. “I told Rafe to start rounding up the Parrish herd. This isn’t much of a break. We ought to have this done in an hour or two, and by then he can have those cows back. We’ll have this wrapped up before dark.”
It occurred to Cal that these three cousins worked well together. Despite the years apart, despite the teasing banter, they still shared a similar work ethic. The minute he’d phoned Jesse about Amy’s problem, Zane and Wyatt had volunteered to help. Now the three dropped to the ground, examining the length of fencing that was lying in the dirt.
“Look at this.” Jesse’s voice was sharp as he turned to the ranch foreman. “Cal. Take a look. What do you think?”
The old man knelt beside him and ran a hand along the surface of the metal links. “These don’t look broken to me.”
Behind them, Zane grabbed up his camera and began recording everything.
Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. These don’t look like they were pulled apart by a surge of cattle, or eroded by weather. The links aren’t jagged or worn. They’re too smooth, the pattern at either end of the break too similar.”
“Cut?” Zane spoke the word they were all thinking.
“Looks like.” Cal continued running his hand over the edges, as though hoping to prove his theory wrong.
“But why?” Wyatt looked around. “Who would benefit from this?”
“Nobody that I can see.” Cal sat back on his heels. “This kind of thing is usually done when somebody wants to free a herd worth stealing. Lure them far enough away from the ranch so nobody can hear the trucks pulling up in the night. The Parrish herd is too small to be worth stealing. Besides, the only place the cows could wander is onto McCord land. And anybody hoping to rustle cattle has to know that we have cowboys keeping watch day and night.”
Zane looked from the old cowboy to his cousin. “So, the Parrish herd would actually be safer on our land than they would be here?”
“Exactly.”
Jesse turned to Cal. “Why don’t you drive up to the house and tell Amy what we found. While we get this fence mended, she’d better phone Sheriff Wycliff and make a report. Even though it isn’t exactly a crime, it looks a lot like harassment. Either this is the result of an old grudge, or it’s some kind of cruel prank. Poor Amy. As though she doesn’t have enough on her mind right now.”
Cal hesitated. “Don’t you think you should be the one to tell her?”
Jesse gave a weak smile. “Her father might be awake. He’s apt to toss me off the property without even bothering to ask why I’m here. I don’t think he’s ever had a beef with you, has he?”
Cal shrugged. “We’re civil whenever we meet.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
When Jesse said nothing more, the old cowboy gave up the argument and climbed into the truck.
Even before the dust had settled, Jesse, Zane, and Wyatt were hard at work mending the fence.
Whenever Zane and Wyatt glanced over at Jesse, his eyes were narrowed, his look grim. It was obvious that he had a lot on his mind. And none of it pleasant.
A raw, bitter wind, dubbed an Alberta clipper by the locals, blew in from the north, reminding the ranchers of the winter they would soon be facing. What few leaves had clung tenaciously to the aspens were now torn loose to fly through the air like golden snowflakes.
Amy pulled on a parka and headed toward the barn to begin the morning chores. After gathering a basket of eggs in the henhouse, she mucked out stalls and forked dung and straw into a wagon before tackling the milking.
Outside, the wind rattled the big door and whistled against the windows of the hayloft.
The barn creaked and groaned, complaining like an old woman. The sound sent shivers along Amy’s spine. She could actually feel the old structure bending and swaying.
She picked up the heavy buckets of milk and started toward the door. Just as she opened it, a gust of wind blew her nearly backward. She heard a crash as loud as a freight train and turned in time to see a massive timber beginning to fall.
As if in slow motion she saw the main rafter separate from the roof and swing downward.
Dropping the buckets, she stumbled backward through the open doorway just as the timber came crashing to the ground. It smashed the walls of an empty stall, barely missing the row of cows at a trough as it landed with such force it sent a shudder through the old barn that rattled the walls and windows.
For long moments Amy was too stunned to react. She sat numbly in the dirt, staring at the destruction, seeing it all through a haze of disbelief. Then, realizing the enormity of what had just occurred, she got to her feet, and, despite the nerves that sent a trembling through every part of her body, she ran as fast as she could to the house. By the time she reached the back door, the breath was burning in her lungs, and tears of anger and confusion filled her eyes.
“I’m really sorry to bother you with my problems.” Amy met Jesse, Wyatt, Zane, and Cal at the door to the barn. “But I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You did the right thing.” Knowing they had an audience, Jesse contented himself with a hand to her shoulder.
He pulled open the door. As they crowded inside, they surveyed the damage in silence.
Zane plucked the video camera from his pocket and began recording.
Wyatt walked closer to the smashed trough. “It’s lucky that this happened when you were almost out the door. Any closer, and you could have been crushed.”
Amy nodded. “That timber has been here since my grandfather built this barn. Who would have believed that a gust of wind could topple it?”
Cal and Jesse knelt to examine the ancient wooden beam, and both looked up at the same instant.
In a low voice that only Jesse could hear, Cal muttered, “I’m no carpenter, but I know one thing. This was no accident. Anybody with half a brain can see that this was sawed nearly all the way through. Feel how clean this break is.”
While Jesse ran his palm over and over the wooden beam, his mind was working overtime.
He got to his feet. “Amy, I know you have to take your father into town for his treatment. We’ll stay here and check on any structural damage.”
“You think the barn might collapse?”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “I hope not. But we’ll need to check it out. I’ll call you later with a report.”
She glanced at her watch and turned away reluctantly. “I’m sorry to leave you with all this.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Cal assured her.
When she was gone, Jesse’s forced smile fled as he plucked his cell phone from his pocket and called the sheriff.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hours later, after Sheriff Wycliff had gone over every inch of the scene, he walked outside, trailed by Jesse and his cousins.
He paused beside his truck. “This doesn’t look like an accident. And now, coupled with the damaged fencing, I’m inclined to agree that somebody is out to do Otis Parrish harm. I’ll go through my records to see if I can find anyone who has had a problem with him.” He shifted his gaze to Jesse. “You realize, of course, that the McCord family will be at the top of that list.”
Jesse nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, that feud between Otis and Coot died with Coot.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I can appreciate that you don’t want Otis upset right now, while he’s going through these treatments. But we all know he’s a hothead. He’s probably made plenty of enemies over the years. After I go through my files, I’m going to need to speak with him, even if it upsets him. He and his daughter have to be made aware of any danger.”
Jesse shrugged. “You do what you think is right, Ernie.”
When the sheriff’s truck disappeared in a cloud of dust, Cal walked from the barn, wiping his hands on his pants. “It doesn’t look like there’s any structural damage, but I asked Stan Novak to bring his construction crew over for a better look. They’ll be here within the hour. I’ll have them go over this place with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Thanks, Cal.” Jesse looked back at the barn. “Who would want to hurt Amy or her father?”
Wyatt turned up the collar of his parka against the wind. “You heard Ernie. Otis Parrish is a hard man to like. I’m betting he knows a dozen people who wouldn’t mind seeing his ranch fail, and Otis along with it. It’s just a shame that Amy has to be painted with the same brush as her father.”
“We’re making headway.” Wyatt added another flag to the clear overlay on his map, while Jesse filed the notes they’d already matched into a manila folder.
Zane recorded the action with his newest addition, a tiny handheld video camera small enough to carry in a shirt pocket. It was the size and thickness of a credit card. He’d tested the quality of the pictures and sound and was pleased with the professional results. It was, he decided, well worth the outrageous sum he’d paid.
Amy and Cora sorted through the rest of the slips of paper that littered the tabletop.
They had agreed to work together to whittle down the number of places Coot may have hunted for the treasure, in order to chart a path for future searches.
It was Jesse’s suggestion that they meet one or two evenings a week, schedules permitting, to keep Amy’s mind off her father’s illness. They gathered in the great room around a roaring fire and struggled to identify as many of Coot’s notes as they could.
The pile had already dwindled, though there were still a dozen or more slips of paper that made no sense whatever. They decided to place all those slips in an envelope for future reference, while they concentrated their energy on the facts at hand.
“You can see where Coot was headed.” Wyatt ran a finger along the map, showing a definite trail from the Beartooth Mountain Range, across the Gold Fever River that crisscrossed their land, snaking ever closer to the foothills of Treasure Chest. “If we’re correct, Coot had already scoured this part of McCord land, and was narrowing his search to this.”
“That’s a mighty big ‘if,’ ” Jesse said with a chuckle. “Even when he was alive, nobody could fathom old Coot’s mind. How’re we supposed to believe that we can figure him out now?”
“It does seem logical,” Cora mused aloud. “I agree with Wyatt that there appears to be a direct line from there to here.”
“I’ll trust your artist’s eye, Aunt Cora. But that still leaves a couple thousand acres of McCord land to search.” Jesse looked up. “A pretty daunting task for the five of us.”
“At least we’re five times as many as Coot. There was only him searching.” Cora’s eyes grew dreamy, as they always did when she spoke of her brother. “And he never doubted that the fortune would be found one day.”
“One day could be in the twenty-third century.” Jesse winked at Amy. “When some multinational megaconglomerate comes in here and decides to blast through all these mountains and rivers. Of course, they might find nothing but gold dust.”
That had everyone laughing, lifting their moods considerably.
Amy got to her feet. “Time to head home and check on my dad.”
Jesse stood. “I’ll follow you.”
“There’s no need.” She touched a hand to his arm. “You and your cousins put in a full day.”
She bent to brush a kiss over Cora’s cheek before heading to the door, with Jesse trailing behind.
Outside, she paused beside her truck. “It’s nice to see you and Zane and Wyatt working together on this.”
“Yeah.” He gathered her close and softly kissed her lips. “But this is a hell of a lot nicer. This is what really charges my engine.”
She laughed before climbing behind the wheel of her father’s truck. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. With weather coming in, we need to get the rest of the herds down from the hills.” He reached inside the open window and caressed her cheek. “If I had my way, I’d leave the ranch chores to the others and just spend all my time with you.”
“That might be hard to do right now.” She sighed. “Dr. Wheeler called and said he thinks it’s time for Dad to increase the treatments.”
“How often will you need to go to town?”
“We’re adding a day next week, to see how Dad tolerates that. If he does well enough, they may add yet another. That would mean driving to town four times a week instead of only two.”
