Page 31

T wo days later, Boyd showed up to retrieve his horse. He arrived late in the afternoon, loud and annoyed, stomping into the stable like he owned the place. They really needed to hire some more hands.

Adam caught sight of him near Bolt’s stall and walked over, wiping his hands on a rag.

“You here for Pickett?” Adam had never liked the guy, but knowing what he’d done to Claire had made his dislike morph to hatred.

Boyd didn’t answer at first. His gaze shifted beyond Adam to the other side of the open stalls — in the pasture where Claire was brushing Buttercup. His jaw clenched.

He stared deep into Adam’s eyes, as if he were looking for something… or trying to intimidate him.

It didn’t work. Adam stared right back, wishing he’d try something. Adam wasn’t one to start a fight, but like Peter, he’d finish it. You didn’t grow up in a house with two brothers and a wild father and not learn how to wrestle.

“You’re not him ,” he muttered so low Adam barely heard, but his gaze said everything.

Boyd knew he wasn’t Thomas. Anyone who really knew Thomas would know that while yeah, they looked like each other two years ago, Thomas had sprouted up over the last year. He was taller, darker, more hair… everywhere. Thomas looked — had looked — like a man.

Adam stiffened. “What did you say?”

Boyd grinned and moved toward the stall. “My horse ready?”

Adam offered one firm nod. “I’ll bring Pickett to the loading area. Rusty’s bringing up the rest —”

Boyd snatched the reins from Adam, then pushed his horse forward. “Get a move on, Pickett.” Before leading the gelding outside, he turned to Adam. “Better watch yourself, Thomas . People talk. When you piss off the right people ’round here, they know who to tell.”

And then he was gone.

* * *

Clara Mae, as always, set out a spread.

“Clara Mae,” Rusty said, squeezing an arm around her waist. “How do you make so much food and never gain a pound?”

“You think I like this slop?” She laughed. “It’s just cheap to make.”

Now that it was just the four of them, Rusty felt comfortable laughing with his mother-in-law. He’d been dying to get to his wife in Texas, but Clara Mae told him to be patient.

Clara Mae seemed happier, too. That made Adam happy.

“What I want to know…” Peter said. “How did you learn to cook for so many people?”

“Li’l Colt, the Texas ranch is ten times the size of this one. My mama taught me to cook when I weren’t hardly old enough to hold a spoon. She’d set me on a step, and order: Stir that pot !”

They all laughed. It felt good. Like family. Even Peter looked relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Getting the Landrums off the ranch, after getting rid of Brett, Frank, and George, felt like a reprieve.

Like he could take a breath. Yeah, Lala was acting like a scorned woman, but she was young.

She hadn’t tracked down Thomas since he’d stopped calling her, so surely she would just give up the chase.

It’s not like they even had anything in common.

Yeah, she owned a horse, but it wasn’t like she cared about Starlight.

The phone rang, and everyone jumped. Adam and Peter had never owned a phone, so the shrill sound always startled them. But even Clara Mae and Rusty weren’t used to it.

“Gah!” Clara Mae squawked. “That damn bell is gonna give me a heart attack. If I didn’t need it for orders, I’d yank it right out the wall.”

Rusty stood and went for it.

Clara Mae had food in her mouth, so she swallowed then spat, “And we should make a rule that we don’t answer during supper.”

Rusty waved a hand. “Might be that order of horses coming up.”

“Is Clara Mae home?” asked the woman on the other end so loudly the entire room heard her. “I need her now.”

Rusty held up the phone, mouthing the name Edna . “You taking calls, Ma’am?”

Clara Mae lifted her eyes but pushed back the chair.

She wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, then swatted Rusty with it, holding out a hand for the receiver.

She covered the receiver. “You shouldn’t have answered.

You know this woman always likes to fuss at me.

” She uncovered the phone and smiled. “This is Clara Mae,” she said as sweetly as Adam had ever heard.

Adam never learned why Claire’s grandmother and Clara Mae didn’t like each other. Since Clara Mae was young enough to be Edna’s daughter, he assumed it must’ve dated back to Claire’s mother.

“Clara Mae,” cried the woman. “Is Claire still there?”

Adam stood so fast the chair fell behind him. The woman’s voice dripped with sheer panic.

Clara Mae looked to him, and Adam shook his head.

“Not since this morning,” Adam said, then looked to Peter.

Peter dropped his fork. “She dropped me off at the fence, said she had a butt-load of studying, and said to say hi .”

Adam walked toward the phone, but he didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry, Edna,” Clara Mae said. “Adam hasn’t seen her since this morning, and Peter says she dropped him off, said she had a ton of homework.”

“Maybe she’s at the Bedards? She and Jean study together a lot. What?” Edna shouted even louder, and Clara Mae pulled the phone back from her ear. “My husband asked if Esmerelda’s there?”

Clara Mae looked to Adam again.

“Lala hasn’t been here in days. She’s mad because I said I wasn’t allowed to date boarders, remember?” Adam said.

Neither Claire nor Lala were home? They weren’t together; he knew that much.

The last Claire had updated him, she and Lala weren’t talking.

Claire had been a tiny bit worried, saying Lala threatened to hitchhike to California, or worse, kill herself.

Though Claire suspected that Lala loved herself too much to do that.

“Have you been helping her, Rusty?” Clara Mae asked.

Rusty scrunched up his face, shaking his head. “Weather’s too nice. You know how that girl is.”

“Neither girls showed up for dinner,” Edna continued, her loud voice on the verge of tears. “No calls. No notes. It’s just not like Claire to not come home without letting me know. I gotta call the Bedards.”

“Call us back, Edna!” Clara Mae said quickly before the woman hung up.

“I will…” There was a long pause. “Clara Mae, I know we’ve had our differences, but my Claire is a good girl, isn’t she? I’m not being na?ve. She’s a good girl. She wouldn’t just not call.”

Clara Mae rested a hand on her heart. “Claire’s a wonderful girl. The best. She would never make you worry.” She hung up the phone then walked back to the table. She pushed back her plate then looked up at Peter. “Did Claire and Esmerelda ride home from school together?”

Peter gulped. “No, Ma’am. It was just Claire and me, as always.”

Adam had heard enough. He charged out of the house, shuffling down the flight of stairs so quickly he nearly fell in his haste.

What if something happened in the stall? Buttercup loved Claire, but even the sweetest and tamest horse could spook, bucking upward and backward, then landing on the owner.

He didn’t swap his tennis shoes for the rubber boots, just charged across the property to get to the barn.

Adam had gotten so comfortable with Claire coming and going that he didn’t always see her leave. Often, if he was working on the back forty and Claire was dropping off Peter, she would just wave.

He skidded to a stop in front of Buttercup’s stall. The gentle horse walked toward him, affectionate and elegant as ever. Claire kept her brushed, which made her creamy coat glisten.

Buttercup was completely fine, but no Claire.

Claire’s grandmother and Clara Mae were both correct. Claire would never not come home without letting someone know — she was one of the most responsible people Adam knew.

* * *

By morning, according to Clara Mae, Claire was still gone. Lala and the Blazer, too.

Adam slammed his fist against the wall of the tack room, rattling the row of bridles.

He turned to Rusty. “She didn’t run away.”

“I know Claire’s a great girl, but…” Rusty stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression grim. “Girls’re known to bolt when things get messy.”

Adam turned slowly, breathing steadily to keep his emotions intact. “Claire’s not that kind of girl. You know that.”

Rusty didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped aside as Clara Mae entered, her boots crunching on the fresh wood chips he’d thrown down yesterday.

“I checked with her grandmother again,” she said. “Jean hasn’t heard from her either.”

Adam’s stomach churned. “She was fine yesterday. Rushed to get to school, complained about all her upcoming exams, but she still wanted to go riding this morning.”

Clara Mae’s eyes held his. “Has someone seen you two together?”

“We’ve been careful. She shows up before the sun even does, and then we barely talk in the afternoons. She drops off Peter, then races home to study.” He caught his breath. “She was hoping that once school ended —”

Peter burst into the barn, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled, eyes bloodshot. “She still hasn’t shown up?”

Adam nodded. “Did she say anything to you yesterday? Mention going somewhere with Lala?”

Peter shook his head. “She told me to get my act together. That was it. Threatened that if I made her late, I’d have to walk to school or muck out the stalls for a living if I quit.”

Sounds like Claire , Adam thought.

Clara Mae looked Peter over, sniffed. “Smells like you spent the night in someone’s ditch. Have you been hanging out with the bad ones down the street?”

Peter didn’t answer.

As much as Clara Mae’s pointed question hit a nerve, Adam couldn’t be bothered with whatever his brother was going through. Not right now. Not when Claire could be hurt somewhere.

Yeah, they’d had a sucky couple of years, but Peter hadn’t had to work like a dog or lose his identity.

Not only because of Adam, but also Claire.

She went out of her way to make sure Peter would stay in school.

She’d confessed to Adam that if he allowed him to ride the bus, he’d ditch, like many of the kids did.