Wilde Bunch Page 9
“It’s okay to defrost stuff in the microwave if it’s already cooked,” Autumn prattled on. “But you can’t cook raw chicken in the microwave ‘cause it doesn’t kill all the germs. You could get food poisoning and die. You can die from hamburgers in restaurants, too. My mom and dad are dead,” she went on without missing a beat. “But they didn’t get food poisoned. Their car crashed. I told Brick he was going to get killed in a car crash, too, but he just laughed. Boy, is Uncle Mac going to be mad!”
“Did Brick drive a car somewhere?” Kara asked, trying to sort out the most current of the jumble of facts provided to her. Autumn jumped from past to present to future with dizzying speed.
Autumn nodded. “He drove Jimmy Crow’s mother’s car out here this morning to get some stuff. He and Jimmy are going camping in Yellowstone.”
Kara stared at her, aghast. “Autumn, do you mean that your brother and this Jimmy Crow are driving to Yellowstone Park right now? Does your Uncle Mac know?”
Autumn shook her head. “He wouldn’t let him go. Not on a school day.”
“Not to mention that Brick is only thirteen years old and is driving!” Kara was gripped by fear for the boy, though she’d never laid eyes on him. “Autumn, we have to tell your Uncle Mac, right now.”
“Okay,” Autumn agreed. “Where is he?”
“I was hoping you knew.” Kara was dismayed. “Maybe Lily does. But I suppose she’s at school. We’ll call her there.”
Autumn laughed merrily at the very idea. “Lily’s not at school. She said she was going to—” she paused, trying to remember. “Paradise?”
Kara’s concern escalated to full-blown anxiety. Was this “Paradise” another sleazy roadhouse like the Rustler, from which the girl had been evicted yesterday? Now it appeared that both Mac’s nephew and his niece needed to be retrieved. She simply had to find Mac!
“Lily said I didn’t have to go to school today ‘cause I didn’t want to. She said you’d take care of me and Clay,” Autumn confided.
Clay! Kara’s heart turned a somersault in her chest. “Where is Clay?” she asked apprehensively. The silence in the house boded ominously for Clay’s whereabouts.
“He went to see his horse,” said Autumn.
“N-Not Blackjack?” Kara remembered Mac’s description of the horse as “a wild-tempered stallion who could kill him with just one kick.”
“Yeah, Blackjack, the pretty big black horse,” Autumn affirmed. “Clay loves him. He wants to ride him.”
Kara felt like a triage officer at a disaster scene. Three young Wildes needed aid, but little Clay was in the most immediate danger. He was also the most accessible. “Autumn, you have to show me where that horse is. We have to get Clay, right now.”
Autumn responded to the urgency in her voice. “Okay. Should I get dressed first?”
“There isn’t time. Just put on your shoes and coat. We have to hurry!”
Moments later, they were running along the driveway, hand in hand, with Autumn leading the way. Kara prayed the little girl knew where she was going, that they would reach Clay before the stallion could do him any harm.
“There’s the horse barn,” Autumn panted, leading Kara to the big wooden building which looked freshly painted. “Maybe they’re in there.”
Working together, the two of them managed to slide the huge door open. Inside, the barn was spacious, well-kept and thoroughly modern. Wide stalls lined each side of the center aisle, and the horses within were beautiful animals, sleek and strong and obviously well-cared for.
“I don’t see a black horse.” Kara scanned the stalls. “Or Clay, either.” She called his name but there was no response.
“There’s the striped cat, though.” Autumn pointed, as a big gray-and-black striped cat dashed up the thick rungs of the wooden ladder leading to the hayloft. “He’s one of the barn cats. Uncle Mac said he doesn’t have a name, so I call him Stripe. I wanted him to come live in the house but Uncle Mac said ‘No, he’s not a house cat.’ Do you think Tai would like to be his friend?”
Kara was so worried about Clay, she paid scant attention to the girl’s chatter. “Autumn, where else could Clay and the stallion be?”
“Maybe outside in one of the pens. Let’s go get Stripe and bring him into the house to meet Tai.” Autumn headed for the ladder.
Kara caught her and turned her around. “We have to find Clay before we do anything.” She deliberately did not mention the unhappy fate which might befall him, though she was somewhat surprised that Autumn, a self-appointed barometer of danger, seemed to have missed the inherent threat of a strong, temperamental horse. “Show me where the pens are.”
Luckily, they weren’t far away. Behind the barn, a short distance down the road, was rolling green pastureland divided into corrals by a network of sturdy fences. In the horizon, majestic mountain peaks towered over the landscape piercing the cloudless blue sky. The tops of the mountains were rocky and gray, the slopes covered with trees whose leaves were a spectacular riot of fall colorsor-anges, yellows, reds and browns. Mixed among them were evergreens in vivid, varying shades of green.
It was breathtaking scenery and Kara wished she had the time and the inclination to be awed by it. Unfortunately, her attention was concentrated on locating one small boy who was trying to befriend a stallion with a decidedly unfriendly reputation.
Kara spotted Clay before Autumn did. He was sitting on the fence, watching the magnificent black stallion race around the pen, snorting and occasionally rearing up on his hind legs. Clearly, Blackjack was not charmed by his young admirer.
“Come on, Blackie! Here, boy! I got something you’re gonna like!” Clay called, extending his hand toward the horse. Blackjack, increasingly perturbed by the intrusion, whinnied angrily and pawed the ground.
Kara’s heart pounded against her ribs. Clay was acting as if the horse were as tame and lovable as Lassie. He seemed oblivious to Blackjack’s equine dislike of him.
She ran over to the child and lifted him down from the fence. He was barefoot and wore cotton shorts and a T-shirt. His bare arms and legs were cold to the touch, for despite the bright sun, it was a chilly, brisk fall day. She remembered that he was still recovering from chicken pox, and winced.
“Clay, you have to stay away from this horse,” Kara said shakily. She noticed that he held a bag of sugar in one hand and in the other was a sweaty fistful of the stuff which he’d been offering Blackjack as a lure. “He is a wild, dangerous animal and he could hurt you very badly.”
“Blackie could kill Clay?” Autumn gasped. “I didn’t know that horses killed people.”
Kara could see her adding horses to the murderous demons who haunted her world. Poor little girl. Her parents had been killed in a car accident and now she looked for danger everywhere, expecting to find it, determined never to be caught unawares again. As one who valued control, Kara understood Autumn’s need to have at least the illusion of it.
“Horses don’t usually hurt people, but Blackjack is an exception,” Kara tried to explain. She walked between the children, following the road back to the house.
“I wanted him to be my friend,” Clay said gloomily. “Like in that movie Black Beauty me and Autumn saw on TV.”
“About a jillion times,” Autumn added dryly. “He wanted to watch it every time it came on.”
“Maybe you should think about getting a pet,” Kara suggested. He definitely needed a diversion from his pursuit of Blackjack. “Something smaller and friendlier.”
“Like a dog?” Clay brightened. “When can we get him?”
“We’re getting a puppy! We’re getting a puppy!” squealed Autumn.
“I always wanted a puppy,” Clay confided, tucking his hand into Kara’s. His spontaneous gesture touched her, and she gazed down at him. He seemed so small, so innocent and trusting. His dark eyes were glowing, his dark hair, straight and thick, reminded her of Mac’s. The familiar resemblance between the two was striking; Clay looked like a pint-size editio
n of his uncle Mac.
“I love dogs!” Autumn enthused as she skipped along beside Kara. “Mom and Daddy said we couldn’t have one, and of course, Uncle James and Aunt Eve said no. They always said no to everything! But Uncle Mac said no, too, ‘cause nobody was home during the day to take care of a puppy.”
“But you’ll be home, right, Kara? Lily said so,” Clay insisted.
Kara was temporarily tongue-tied. How had her innocuous mention of a pet snowballed to her living there and caring for a puppy? Neither Clay nor Autumn pressed her for an answer; they seemed to have already taken Lily’s word as confirmation.
Back in the house, she went to each child’s room and found warm clothes for them to wear. Clay was safe, but Lily and Brick remained unaccounted for. She wondered where Mac was and how to summon him. Inspiration struck when she entered the kitchen and saw the phone.
“That’s why we have the car-phone number written down beside the phone, so you can get in touch if you need to,” Mac had said when Autumn’s phone call had interrupted their...tryst. Kara’s cheeks burned. Calling Mac with that particular memory searing her was unnerving, but she really had no choice. She dialed the number written on the tablet beside the phone and waited while it rang, hoping that Mac was within hearing distance of the Jeep, wondering and worrying about what to say to him.
Many rings later—so many that she was ready to give up and hang up—Mac picked up the phone.
“Yeah?” he said warily.
After their adventure this morning, Kara understood why he was wary. When this phone rang, it was likely that the news was not going to be good.
“I hate to bother you,” Kara began apologetically, and immediately reproached herself. She wasn’t bothering him, she was doing him a favor. Brick’s and Lily’s whereabouts were his responsibility, not hers. Yet somehow, somewhere between yesterday and this morning, she had come to feel that she was responsible, too.
“Uh-oh.” Mac made a sound that was a combination of a groan and a sigh. “What’s wrong?”
She decided to spare him the tale of Clay—that was already old news—and relayed Autumn’s message about Brick’s camping trip. Mac did not take it well. He ranted and raved, and Kara listened quietly, making no comment. She thought he was entitled to be upset that the two thirteen-year-olds had blithely taken off for Yellowstone—the world of school, adults and driving laws be damned!
Mac finally wound down. “I’m over in the south pasture repairing the fencing and it’ll take me at least an hour, maybe longer to get back to the house.” He sounded thoroughly dispirited. “If you’ll stay with Clay, I’ll drive straight into town and talk to the sheriff. He’s a buddy of mine and I think he can get the boys picked up without having them arrested. Autumn and Lily should be coming home from school around—”
“Autumn is home,” Kara cut in.
“Why?” His voice rose in concern. “Is she sick?”
“No, but she’s here. Don’t worry about her or Clay, I’ll stay with them,” Kara promised.
Mac was so upset about his nephew that she didn’t have the heart to mention Lily at the Paradise. It seemed kinder to let him believe that the girl was in school, so he could devote his full attention to retrieving Brick.
“Kara, I’m sorry I wasn’t around this morning. Usually, I have more flexibility with my schedule, but today is Webb’s day off and I knew he was planning to spend it away from the ranch. That means I cover for him. I looked in on you when I got up shortly after five, and you were so deeply asleep I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
The thought of him watching her as she slept made her flinch with embarrassment. Suppose she’d been snoring or something equally unspeakable?
“You looked so soft and sweet and tempting that it took all my willpower not to climb into bed with you.” His voice was warm and intimate and seemed to trap her in a web of sensuality. “Some morning soon, that’s the way it’s going to be, Kara. I’ll stay in bed beyond the crack of dawn and you’ll be there with me.”
Kara drew a jagged breath. She could imagine the scene all too well...the two of them lying in bed...Mac reaching for her....
Her body was already heating, quivering in sensual remembrance of his caresses, his kisses. Her imagination stoked the fire higher. An achy, restless throbbing pulsed deep inside her. She felt paradoxically both swollen and empty as a voluptuous hunger surged through her. Kara knew she was in dire trouble when merely the sound of his voice could produce such a fevered response.
She struggled to get a grip on herself. “You have to find Brick,” she said huskily, pushing the potent combination of fantasies and memories aside.
He laughed softly, as if he knew what she was trying to do. And why. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him and bring him home.” His voice lowered a notch, to a velvet growl. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
Five
The call had ended, the connection was broken but Kara sat in the chair, clutching the receiver and staring into space. She tried to remind herself that she was offended he had called her baby again, that overused, oversung generic term, but she could summon no indignation. He made her feel hot and sexy and desirable, so different from the woman she had always been. After all, no one in the Commerce Department had ever claimed her as his baby.
A terrible, otherworldly screech jarred her as effectively as a thorough dousing with ice water. Kara dropped the phone and charged through the swinging door into the adjacent living room den. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the source of the wild feral howls. Tai was crouched on top of the moose head, his back arched and his tail bristling like a porcupine as he sounded his battle cries. On the floor below sat the striped barn cat, his back and tail equally raised for war, though he was staring up at Tai in something akin to wonder.
“I don’t think they like each other,” murmured Autumn. She and Clay stood on the cushions of the wide black leather sofa, watching the cats who were a clear-cut case of feline incompatibility.
Tai inched forward toward the antlers, his eyes slitted with outrage and yowled another threat to the intruder from the barn.
“We have to get Stripe outside and back to the barn,” Kara said with commendable calm. “Preferably before Tai launches himself from the moose head like a grenade.”
“I’ll chase him out,” Clay volunteered, climbing to the arm of the sofa. He launched himself into the air like a human grenade, propelling himself in the direction of the barn cat.
The cat took off with a wild screech. Kara ran to the front door and opened it and after a few laps around the house, with Clay running a distant second, the cat found his way to the open door and ran outside, heading for the barn without a backward glance.
“We did it!” Clay exclaimed and slapped her palm with his in a victorious high five. Kara grinned. It was the first time she’d ever participated in that particular ritual.
They walked back into the living room. Tai remained on top of the moose head, growling at Autumn who was trying to sweet-talk him down.
“I guess I shouldn’t’ve brought Stripe in,” Autumn admitted wistfully. “But I wanted Tai to have a friend. It’s hard to be someplace new and not have any friends.”
Kara put her arm around Autumn’s shoulders. She had a strong hunch that the little girl was talking about more than Tai’s solitary state. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “Tai likes being the only cat around, in fact, he prefers it. He isn’t at all like people.”
“He can still be the only cat when we get our puppy,” Clay interjected. “Because a puppy is a dog.”
Kara didn’t allow herself to be diverted. “Autumn, why didn’t you want to go to school today?” she asked.
Autumn shrugged and stared at the floor. “They’re picking groups today to work on the Halloween party. I knew I’d be the last one picked, so I decided to stay home. I’ll get assigned to a group ‘cause I’m absent and that’s better than standing there, not getting picked till the very end.”
/> Kara’s heart ached for the child. She knew how it felt to be an outsider. Shy and unsure of herself, she’d spent most of her own life wishing she belonged somewhere, with someone. “It must be hard moving to a new school, especially one in a small town where everybody’s known everyone else forever.”
“It’s not hard for me,” Clay chirped. “Everybody likes me. I have lots of friends.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re in second grade,” Autumn said disparagingly. “Little kids are friendlier. In fifth grade, they’re not.”
“Taken as a whole group, it must seem that way,” agreed Kara. “But maybe if you tried to make just one friend.” She tried to remember herself as a fifth-grader; she’d had a best friend, and having just one friend could make all the difference. “Ask a girl in your class if she’d like to do something with you—you know, go to the movies or to the mall or come over to your house after school.”
“There isn’t a mall in Bear Creek but there is a movie theater,” Clay offered helpfully.
“I used to have friends over when I lived in California with Mommy and Daddy,” Autumn reminisced. “Not in Ohio with Uncle James and Aunt Eve, though. I didn’t want anybody to know I lived with them!”
“Do you feel that way about living here with your Uncle Mac?” Kara asked curiously.
“I love Uncle Mac,” Autumn said, chewing on a piece of her long hair. “But it wouldn’t be any fun for a friend to come here. Clay would hang around and pester us. It would be like babysitting.”
“Yeah,” Clay agreed. “There isn’t anybody around to tell me not to bother the girls, like Mom used to do.”
“Uncle Mac is always working and if Brick or Lily are here, they just tell us to shut up when we fight or complain,” Autumn added. “Why would I bring a friend here for that?”
Obviously, Autumn had given the matter some thought and decided that friendlessness was preferable to revealing the chaos at home. Kara felt a swell of sympathy, both for Autumn who was lonely and sad, and for Mac who didn’t understand the dilemma of being a ten-year-old girl who felt her family was hopelessly different from everybody else’s.