Vickie Britton, page 9
I slipped from my robe into a simple navy dress with a lacy neckline and chillingly short sleeves, then experienced a minor shock as I viewed my reflection in the bureau mirror. My cheeks were as pale as ivory, my eyes dark and shadowed—nothing, I decided, that a little carefully-applied blusher and mascara couldn’t repair.
My drying hair, which was beginning to grow back from the butchering I’d received at My Lady’s Salon in Reno, curved about my shoulders in stubborn, restless waves. I finished drying it quickly. A touch of the curling iron in just the right places tamed the difficult locks, dispatching the subtle differences in lengths, making it appear, as I looked into the mirror, to fall smoothly about my shoulders in soft chestnut tresses. I stepped back, satisfied. Lately, I realized, I’d grown to taking little pains
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with my appearance. I so seldom wore anything but blue jeans that the silky hose and open-toed sandals made me feel almost self-conscious.
Deciding to stop and have a word with Guillermo before I left, I crossed the garden and driveway and entered the barn.
I could hear the sound of voices from within his small office as I approached.
“How much does Anna know about this?”
“I’ve told her nothing,” I heard Guillermo reply.
“Good. That’s the way I want it.”
Ivan suddenly looked up and noticed me standing near the doorway. I saw a glint of surprise, what might have been a flash of guilt in his dark eyes as he said, “Anna. What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to town. I thought I’d stop by first and see if everything’s all right.” It was going to be difficult to talk to Guillermo with Ivan there.
This was the first time I’d seen Ivan since the reading of the will. He’d been avoiding the house, spending most of his time riding the desolate range alone. I’d been dreading an encounter with him, feared the bitterness and anger I might see in his eyes, clues that he might blame me for robbing him of the Devil’s Gate.
“Have you found anything out, Guillermo?” I asked. I wondered if the two of them had been talking about the Cult of Akerra before I appeared. What were they planning to keep from me?
He shook his head. “Not a thing.”
“You’ll keep on trying?”
“I’ve been watching some of the men, their comings and goings, very closely.”
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“I guess that’s all I wanted to know.” I turned away from the door, realizing that Guillermo knew more than he was ever going to tell me. The idea of them deciding like a couple of conspirators what and what not to tell me made me wary, distrustful.
“Wait, Anna. I’ll walk with you.” Ivan followed me to the entrance of the barn. I stepped out into the sunlight, blinking the startling brightness from my eyes. I looked away from Ivan, toward the corrals, where Manual, Esteban, and some of the others were still working on the fence.
“We’re not keeping secrets from you,” Ivan said.
“I heard the two of you talking before I came in. What is it that you didn’t want Guillermo to tell me?”
“Guillermo and I went back to the clearing the night of Tavas’s wake.”
I looked at him, wordlessly letting him know I needed more from him.
Reluctantly, he added, “Someone was down there. He ran away when he saw us coming.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
Ivan shook his head. “Neither of us did. He wore a black cloak. And something over his face. A hood.”
I shivered. More evidence that the Cult of Akerra was working within our own ranch. “Do you think he was one of the hired men?”
“The evidence points to someone…close to us. We decided not to tell you any more until we can find some proof to back up our suspicions. That’s why I advised Guillermo not to tell you anything yet. We may be completely wrong.”
“You’ll let me know if you find anything out for certain?”
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“I won’t keep things from you,” Ivan promised.
“Ivan, about the will. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Tavas…”
Slowly, I forced myself to meet Ivan’s gaze. With surprise, I saw none of the resentment and anger I’d been expecting. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. “I did know him. I’m not disappointed.”
“Thank you for agreeing to stay on.”
“I want to do what I can to help.” He paused a moment, then asked, “When will you be back from town?”
“Not until late this evening. I’m having dinner with Brad.”
A dark look filled Ivan’s eyes. His gaze slipped from my blue dress down to the open-toed sandals.
“You could say ‘have a nice time’.” The words sounded bitter, and I instantly regretted them. I was glad that he didn’t force a reply.
Ivan and I parted at the barn and I walked down the driveway to my car. As I got behind the wheel, I saw the house reflected in my rearview mirror. Then I caught sight of a dark spot to one side. A shadowy figure was slipping silently through the cactus garden toward the house.
At first I though it might be Ivan, but a second glance made me recognize the careless, slouching gait, the dark hat pulled low over his eyes. It was Esteban.
What was he doing skulking around the house when he was supposed to be out by the corral working with the other men? Alice’s gossip about Colleen turned suddenly in my mind. Had Esteban slipped back to the house to meet her? No, that wasn’t possible. A quick glance at the driveway told me that Colleen’s car was still missing. She hadn’t returned from town.
Then what was Esteban doing here? Suddenly, I saw Alice emerge from the gaping doorway. She stood for a
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moment, half in shadow, half in light, squinting at his approaching form. I saw her move back a little as he approached. I waited, wondering if he was welcome or if he was making a nuisance of himself. Then I saw her step back from the doorway and motion him inside. Well, as long as he had business with Alice… The two of them disappeared inside the house. I turned my attention back to the car.
The Mustang hadn’t been driven for so long that I was surprised when it started on my first try. Soon, I was making my way down the winding, dusty road—twenty-six miles of it in all leading into Bly. Everything looked different in the solemn afternoon light than it had the evening of my arrival. Pearly gray clouds fluttered in a pale blue sky which blended with the perpetually snow-capped tips of the Adobe range, still far in the distance. The road, with its potholes and washes and sudden curves so tricky to maneuver by after dark now revealed its every defect with alarming clarity.
Soon, I reached twelve-mile point, where there was an intersecting road that led off toward Secret Pass. A few faded ranch-houses came into view, then disappeared just as quickly as if they’d been only a host of mirages in the relentless miles of tan, sage-sprinkled hills surrounding me.
When I’d been obliged to make the drive once or twice a week, I’d been annoyed by the sameness. Now, after being deprived of it for so long, I was aware of its lonesome beauty. It wasn’t an overwhelming beauty, like the Grand Canyon or Zion Park, but the rolling hills, the rose-colored sand, the occasional cluster of sagebrush gave the impression of endlessness, of a kind of vast eternity.
The church steeple came into view first, for it stood on the top of the tallest hill just on the outskirts of town. I could see the tall cross glinting as I turned down Main
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Street. There was the hospital, the school, the local cemetery…it was jestingly said that one could live his entire life, die, and be buried all within a few city blocks in Bly.
I passed the library and post office. The interstate cut into the old part of town, displaying signs of Bly’s slow progress during the recent years. I followed the new road signs past the truck stops, restaurants, gambling houses and cheap hotels that had sprung up along the way. Several miles down the road, safely hidden from the single strip of nightclubs and casinos, was the tiny new shopping mall, which boasted of a new boutique and a Sears mail-order store. Just before I reached the turnoff for the mall, the ‘Red Garter’ came into view.
The ‘Garter’ was a dark, smoky barroom where the cowhands came to drink beer, dance, and shoot pool on Saturday nights. It featured a new live band every weekend and so was haunted by every high-school kid in town who could lay hands on a fake I.D.
I had been there once, with Ivan. He’d taken me reluctantly, after much badgering on my part, to celebrate my seventeenth birthday. With Ivan, tall and handsome upon my arm, I felt like Cinderella being swept away to her first ball. Once I got past the doorman, I fully expected to be led into some wonderfully mysterious land of romance and enchantment. I still remember the bitter taste of disappointment when I discovered there was nothing much inside the much-praised nightclub but a sawdust floor, a long bar crowded with leering drunks, and a band of musicians so drunk they could barely keep time to their own music. To add insult to injury, Ivan had flatly refused to buy me a beer. The doorman kept glancing at me suspiciously until finally, in exasperation, I demanded that we leave. Not even the hot fudge sundae he’d treated me to
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later could make up for that amused, humiliating laughter in his dark eyes as he gallantly led me away.
The place looked as forlorn as ever. The paint was cracked and peeling, the neon sign dead in the glow of afternoon light. My gaze swept over the few cars parked out front. A flash of red suddenly caught my eye. It’s hard to camouflage a red car. The little sports model parked discreetly in the alleyway between the bar and the neighboring motel was the one Colleen had driven into town.
‘She has a lover.’ Alice’s words came back to me. Was Colleen at the bar with a man now, having a few drinks? Or were they at the motel? I stepped on the gas, resisting the temptation to stop inside the ‘Red Garter’ to see if Colleen was inside. It was really none of my business who Ivan’s wife saw, I reproached myself. I remembered my suspicions about Esteban sneaking back to the house to meet Colleen, and smiled. I jumped to the wrong conclusion once today. The best thing I could do for myself was to mind my own business.
At the mall, I purchased lotion, makeup, and a big bottle of herb-scented shampoo, then I browsed through the new boutique where I discovered my pullover and tried on several pairs of slacks. With a sigh, I gave up on the jeans, paid for my new sweater, a creamy tan knit, and stepped from the little store into a still lazy, sun-washed afternoon. I still had plenty of time before I was to meet Brad, so I decided to drive out to the old Wells Fargo station, which was just a few miles down the road. It wasn’t really much to see, and it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been there at least a hundred times before, but driving the three miles up and back would kill just enough time.
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In the summertime, the old station was about the only attraction Bly had to offer the tourists on their way to California, but with vacationing season long over, I supposed I’d be the only one out there.
True to my hunch, the old tourist stop was empty. My shoes made crunching noises on the dry earth as I walked up to the crumbling hulk of the stone building, stepping around rusted wagon wheels with weeds growing up tall inside them. The historical marker explaining how the station had been robbed twice in the 1800’s was so faded the dates were unreadable.
I stepped inside. A mouse had made its nest on the old counter and a mob of summer vandals from Ohio had scratched their names and towns in the wood and stone above the main attraction, a rusted iron safe.
From outside, I could hear the crunch of gravel. I stiffened. I’d heard no car drive up, but it sounded as if someone was standing outside. For a moment, I got the sensation someone had followed me here from the mall. I shivered, stepping from the damp, cool building into the fading rays of sunlight, imagining some figure in hood and dark robe crouched waiting for me. I saw no one.
The place, wild and unkempt, abandoned by its summer caretaker, was making me uneasy. Glancing down at my watch, I was relieved to discover that it was nearly time to meet Brad.
As I drove back into town, I passed by the ‘Red Garter’ again, glancing curiously to see if the sports car had gone. It was still parked in the alley between the bar and the motel. Then something else caught my eye. Though I was on the opposite side of the highway and couldn’t tell for certain, I thought that the faded yellow pickup truck parked close to
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the bar looked a lot like the old farm truck Guillermo had driven back to the ranch earlier. Of course, I could have been mistaken. Most every rancher for miles around had at least one beat-up vehicle like the ‘58’ Ford. Besides, it seemed unlikely that if Brad was driving the truck he would have stopped in for a beer so soon before our dinner date.
I’d secretly hoped Brad would be in the diner waiting, but he wasn’t. I received a warm greeting from Al himself. “Brad just called,” he informed me. “Said he’d be a few minutes late, but for you to wait for him. I’ve saved you two a nice table by the window and I’ll get you started on a green salad while you wait.” He wiped the table with a practiced swoop of his cloth. “Nice to have you back, Anna. You’re looking good.”
Big, jovial Al always had a way of making me feel at home. I’d waited tables for him one summer long ago after school had let out.
I was still toying with the last bite of my salad when Brad entered the room. He had changed into a fresh yellow shirt and tan Levis. His hat was gone and his hair had been washed and combed to one side, though stubborn, wiry locks kept slipping back to their natural place over his forehead. He’d shaved, and his boots had been shined until the leather was rich and glowing. I was suddenly glad I’d taken the time to curl my hair and put on a dress. As he stepped over to the table and pulled back his chair, I resisted the urge to ask him if he’d seen Colleen. Yet the question weighed heavily on my mind, as heavily as the faint scent of cigarettes and beer that clung to his clothing.
I focused my attention on him. I’d never really thought of him as an attractive man. In fact, I’d never really thought of him as a man at all, but as a boy, a companion, a playmate. Now, the envious glances of the two unescorted
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young women by the salad bar made me wonder if I could ever see him through a stranger’s eyes. Since I’d grown up accustomed to him, perhaps I took his strong, craggy features and kind smile for granted.
Al brought the steaks, still sizzling, from the grill. They smelled heavenly and were tender and cooked to perfection. I was suddenly very hungry. Besides steak, there was a heaping portion of mashed potatoes, homemade bread, buttered corn, and plenty of good coffee.
All during supper, my thoughts kept wandering back to Colleen. Still, I was surprised when Brad brought up her name. “What do you think of her, Anna?” he asked casually. “What do you think of Ivan’s wife?”
“I don’t know,” I replied icily. “We’ve barely exchanged words since I arrived.”
“I guess I can’t really expect you to like her.”
I made no reply.
“You know,” he persisted, “she hasn’t had it so easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were all so dead set against the marriage. Alice has never made any bones about how she feels about Colleen. Tavas didn’t, either. It’s little wonder she couldn’t work up too many tears when he died.”
I remembered her rude, disrespectful behavior as Tavas lay on his deathbed and was still appalled.
Brad took a bite of his roll. “You loved him and I loved him, but Tavas could be a hard man.” He paused to add more butter to the roll. “He said some things to her that…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.
“Brad, do you think she’s the reason Tavas left the ranch to me instead of Ivan?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The way he and Ivan were always at each other’s throats, there were probably plenty
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of others. All I know is that she and Ivan are really having it out. There’s been talk about divorce.”
I’d seen so little of Ivan since the reading of the will. He’d kept to the range during the daytime and at night he was seldom home. It was as if he was purposefully avoiding me.
“I’ve been talking to Colleen a lot lately,” Brad confessed, “She wants to change. She swears she’s going to stop drinking.”
I thought to myself that the ‘Red Garter’ was a fine place to start this resolution.
“Course we all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Brad added as if reading my thoughts. “But I’m going to help her any way I can. You know, I think she really cares for Ivan in her own way. I don’t believe she’s as eager for that divorce as she lets on. I’m going to try to keep them together if I can.”
“That’s sweet of you, Brad.”
“No, it’s not. It’s selfish. Utterly and completely selfish.” He looked down at his plate, seeming uncomfortable, embarrassed. “I guess I’m telling you all this because I know how you and Ivan…how you once felt about him. I guess I know deep inside that the only way I’ll ever have a chance with you is to keep them together. Because I know that if Ivan was free…”
“Brad—”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but, damn it, Anna, I wish you’d stop brooding so much about Ivan and start thinking of the future. I mean, a future that you and I could have together.”
I nearly choked on my bread. “This isn’t…you’re not…”
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He grinned. “No, it’s not exactly a proposal, but I do think we should start seeing each other. Get acquainted again. I’ve always been like a big brother to you. With Ivan around, it seemed I never got the chance to really court you. Now, well, I’m asking you if you’ll give me that chance. The county fair starts day after tomorrow. Will you go with me?”
