Second Chance Cowboy

“I think that’s the style now.”

Arlene looked mystified by that.

“What about the baby’s father?” he asked. “Is it possible she’s with him?”

“I doubt it. She wouldn’t tell me who the man is, but from what I could gather he’s involved with someone else. I’m not even sure he knows about the baby.”

Hank took that in, wondering how the man couldn’t know in a town the size of Whitehorse. From what little time he’d lived in the county he’d discovered there were no secrets. Everyone seemed to know his name even though he spent little time in town and had met only a few people.

“I tried her cell phone,” Arlene was saying. “It goes straight to voice mail. I left a message…”

“Maybe you should call the sheriff,” he suggested as they drove out of town.

“No.” She softened her expression and her words as she continued. “I already spoke to the sheriff. He can’t file a missing-persons report yet. The thing is, Charlotte has had some problems with the law. The sheriff thinks this is just one of her stunts—and, you know, he’s probably right.”

THE SHORTCUT WAS narrow, with deep barrow pits on each side—much like the main road to Old Town Whitehorse.

But the road was closer to the Evans’ farmhouse, and since Hank hadn’t seen Charlotte’s car on his way to Arlene’s, this would be the next place to check.

He found himself taking in the land that ran toward the Missouri Breaks, fascinated this untamed country was right out Arlene’s back door. Who couldn’t get lost in this?

“I’m sure Charlotte probably just stayed in town,” Arlene said, drumming her fingers on the armrest. “It’s just that I can’t imagine who she might have stayed with.” When she looked at him, he saw the pain.

He realized he had never known the names of his daughter’s friends. There’d been a stream of them in and out of the house over the years, but he’d never been home enough to keep track of them.

His daughter had grown up without him being around. He’d told himself that she was fine, Bitsy was doing a great job raising her. That he wasn’t needed. His job was to provide for his family. Only now could he admit what bull that had been.

“What was your husband like?” he asked.

“Absent,” she said and craned her neck to look out as the road dipped down to a creek crowded with thick stands of chokecherries and dogwood. “Wait. Back up. I think I saw something.”

He stopped the SUV and reversed back up the hill.

“There!” she cried.

He pulled over to the edge of the road as best he could although it wasn’t wide enough for another car to pass and put on the emergency flashers even though he doubted any other cars would be coming along. Arlene was already out of the car and running to the edge of the road.

He joined her as she pointed down the slope and saw the patch of blue through the dense, tall brush along the creek.

Closer, he could see the tracks in the soft earth where a car had gone off, some of the sagebrush limbs broken or uprooted.

“Oh, God,” Arlene said beside him. She took a step toward the ravine, but he stopped her.

“Stay here. I’ll go check.”

Arlene looked stricken. “If she went off the road…The baby—”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions before we know if that’s even her car down there, okay?”

She nodded, although they both knew it had to be.

He walked down the road to a spot where the slope wasn’t so steep and worked his way down to where he’d seen the patch of blue from above.

The chokecherries and dogwood were thick and hard to navigate, but he hadn’t gone far when he caught the glint of a chrome bumper.

Forcing his way closer, he glanced into the rear window. The car was covered in dust but he could see that there was no one in the backseat.

Working his way along the passenger side of the car, he covered his hand with the tail of his shirt to open the door. If this was a crime scene, he didn’t want to destroy any more evidence than necessary.

The door opened and he peered in. No eight-months-pregnant woman inside. The keys were in the ignition, he noted. The car appeared to be in Neutral.

He glanced around. No sign of a struggle. No blood. No indication anything had been taken, since there were a couple dollars in change in the drink holder and the glove box was still closed.

He glanced at the driver-side door. It was closed, a dense wall of brush against it—just as there had been against the passenger-side door. Just to be sure the car was Charlotte’s, he checked the registration in the glove box.

Then, reaching across, he pulled on the trunk lever. The lid groaned open.

Closing the door, he straightened and moved to the rear of the car. He was relieved to find the trunk empty except for the usual junk most people carried there.

He closed the lid, careful not to leave his prints.

“Hank?” Arlene called down, sounding scared.

“She’s not here,” he called back. “I’ll be right up.” He climbed out of the ravine to find her standing on the road where he’d left her. She’d worn a path in the dirt, though, where she had paced.

“It’s her car, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “But she wasn’t in it when the car went off the road.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “Oh, my God, she could be out there anywhere, wandering around, maybe having her baby.”

“Arlene.” He touched her arm. “She wasn’t in the car when it went off the road.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Come here.” He walked her over to the spot where the car tracks left the road. “See. Someone walked around here, then walked to the edge of the road. See how deep the footprints are?”

“What are you saying?”

“The car was pushed off the road. The keys were in it and the car was in Neutral.”

“Why would Charlotte do that?”

“The prints would indicate the size and shape of a woman’s shoe.”

Arlene met his gaze. “How do you know so much about this kind of stuff?”

“I like murder mysteries,” he said truthfully.

She looked sickened as she glanced back down into the ravine. “She’s run off, hasn’t she?”

“It would appear that way. Her purse isn’t in the car. There was no sign of a struggle. Did she take a suitcase or an overnight bag when she left for her doctor’s appointment?”

Arlene shook her head. “I don’t know. She could have put one in the car the night before.”

“We’ll know more once we get the car out of the ravine. Who should I call?” He pulled out his cell phone but quickly realized he couldn’t get any coverage out here. “I’ll call from town.”

She nodded and gave him a name of a tow truck operator. “Thank you.”

He wished there was something he could say to relieve her worry. “She isn’t alone. Someone met her here.” He pointed to another set of tire tracks on the opposite side of the road.

“I can’t imagine who it could have been.” She frowned as if she remembered something.

“What?”

“Just that I’ve seen a car I didn’t recognize drive by the house numerous times over the past few months,” she said. “A silver SUV.”

“Did you happen to notice the license plate?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t pay much attention to it. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all except that we get so little traffic out our way.”

“You didn’t see the driver?”

“No. I can’t be sure if it was a man or a woman.”

“You don’t know of anyone who drives a car like it?” he asked.

She shook her head again. “I wish I was of more help.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll turn up.”

“Only if she wants to be found. You don’t know Charlotte.”

Hank smiled and put his arm around Arlene as he walked her back to his car. “Charlotte doesn’t know me.”

HANK WAITED UNTIL the tow truck operator unhooked Charlotte’s car in the front yard of the farmhouse before opening the car.

Arlene came out of the house and stood on the porch, watching.

Hank slid behind the wheel, careful not to touch anything. He heard Arlene come up to the side of the car.

“You still aren’t convinced she ran away,” Arlene said.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” he said as he tilted his head to study the steering wheel. “How tall did you say your daughter was?”

“Five-four.”

“Someone taller drove her car last,” he said. “She work on her own car?”

Arlene’s laugh had an edge to it. “And ruin her nails?”

He sniffed the steering wheel, then got out and checked the hood latch.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Engine grease on the steering wheel. Whoever drove the car had it on their hands, but it apparently didn’t come from this car.”

“So it came from the other car,” Bo said, coming out of the house to join them. “You already suspected she met someone out there and rode with them. So what’s the big deal about the engine grease?”

“Nothing maybe,” Hank said. “I guess it would depend on who picked her up out there.”

“Seems pretty clear to me,” Bo said. “No one uses that shortcut, so it couldn’t have been just someone passing by. Charlotte had obviously set it up. No one would see her get into the other car. Seems to me she was buying time by ditching hers.” He looked at his mother as if she was the reason Charlotte had run away.

“That’s one theory,” Hank admitted. “So who did pick her up?”

“Don’t look at me,” Bo said. “I don’t know anything about it.” He turned to head back into the house.

“But you know who fathered her baby,” Hank said to the young man’s retreating back.

It was only a slight movement of the shoulders, a telltale sign. “What does it matter anyway? The guy obviously doesn’t want anything to do with her.”

Arlene looked as if she wanted to trail after her son. “Bo doesn’t know anything. He’s just talking.”

Bo knew something. And if he knew, then Hank figured it wouldn’t be that hard to find out. There was nothing Hank loved more than a challenge. “I’ll see if I can find anything out.”

“I’ve tried for months without any luck.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I have a way with people.”

ARLENE RETURNED his smile, thinking he certainly did. She’d tried for months to find out who the father of the baby was without any luck at all. “I’m not sure it’s going to do any good, though. If she’s run off with him…”

“Then at least you’ll know who she’s with.”

“Why are you doing this?” she had to ask.

Hank moved to her and took both of her hands in his. “Because I like you and you need help.”

She tried to pull away, hating the fact that she needed anyone’s help but maybe especially Hank’s. That wasn’t the relationship she wanted with him. “I don’t want you dragged into my problems.”

“Arlene, this doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

How could it not? And how did he feel about her? “I’m a terrible mother.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not.”

“Oh, you have no idea. The mistakes I’ve made…”

“Believe me, my mistakes are legendary.”

“I wish I could do it over,” she said with heat. “I would do things so differently.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t we all.” He let go of her hands to step to the car. She watched him lock it. “For the time being, don’t drive the car. Let me see what I can find out.”

She nodded numbly. She couldn’t help being worried about Charlotte and the baby. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be there when my first grandbaby was born. I had wanted Charlotte to put the baby up for adoption. But still I thought I could be there for my daughter and at least see the baby…”

She turned away, not wanting him to see her cry. Hank’s kindness had turned her into a fountain.

This wasn’t the way she’d wanted things to be between them. She didn’t want him to know this side of her. Not the woman with all this baggage. How could he even stand to look at her?

“Arlene,” he said.

She turned to find him directly behind her.

He cupped her cheek. His thumb pad brushed the corner of her mouth. “Try not to worry,” he said softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She looked into his eyes. He still wanted to go out with her tonight? She nodded numbly.

He smiled. “Leave it to me.”

She watched him walk to his vehicle, still stunned not only that he’d come into her life, but also that he was still there.

Won’t be for long.

Her mother’s voice. But Arlene didn’t argue with the sentiment. Wait until Hank learned about her daughter Violet.

VIOLET EVANS PEERED out the hospital window, past the pathetic array of patients, to the fence that had become her prison.

Just a few more weeks.

It had been her mantra for months, and lately it hadn’t been working—and that worried her more than she wanted to admit.

She’d been doing so well, pretending for months to be catatonic before miraculously coming out of it with no apparent memory of the bad things she’d done in the past. How many people could pull something like that off? Very few if any, she would wager.

She’d always known she was smart, but lately she’d come to realize she might be a genius.

Of course, she had to hide that fact from the doctors. Clearly they weren’t half as intelligent as she was, since they had no idea what she was up to.

Just a few more weeks.

And she would be free.

So why couldn’t she relax and just do what they were asking of her? Why did she feel as if her insides were starting to show through her skin?

The doctors had insisted she do an in-patient work program to prepare her for when she got out. Which meant she filed for hours at the nurses’ station. She thought she would go crazy for sure if she had to do it much longer.

And then there were the nightmares. She’d never told anyone about them. These doctors would have a field day with even one of her dreams. She shuddered to think of what they would make of them. What she herself made of them if she let herself delve too deeply.

Just a few more weeks.

But it was getting harder and harder to remember that, and just the thought of never getting out of here—

She shoved that thought away and concentrated on revenge. But even the revenge she’d planned against her mother had lost some of its power.

Maybe worse than the nightmares was the voice she kept hearing in her head. She’d thought it was her mother’s but lately she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her grandmother’s.

It was distracting and confusing, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. The place was literally driving her crazy, making her question things.

Like her mother’s culpability in all this.

She shook her head, trying to banish the confusion. Of course it was her mother’s fault. Everything was always the mother’s fault.

Chapter Four

Bo Evans disliked Hank Monroe even before he’d met the man. He would have disliked any man his mother dated. Not that he felt any loyalty to his father. Floyd Evans was a spineless bastard who’d abandoned them the moment there was trouble. Hell, Floyd Evans had abandoned them long before that.

“What did I tell you?”

He looked up to find his mother standing in front of him. She had the remote in her hand. He swore as she muted his show. “Tell me about what?”

“Getting a job.”

He shook his head. It had just been a threat. At least he hoped that’s all it had been. “If I got a job, I’d have to be in town all day. Maybe even have to work nights. You’d be here by yourself. You don’t want that. You need me around.”

His mother laughed and he realized this was a new reaction. “Nice try. I want you to find a job. And then I want you to find a place to live.”

He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. He suspected he hadn’t. This was Hank Monroe’s doing, the bastard. He’d put this into her head.

“This is about Hank, isn’t it? You think he’s going to always be around?” Bo scoffed at that. “Once he gets what he’s after, he’ll be gone. The guy’s playing you. He’s going to break your heart.”

“Well, I’ve been played before and certainly had my heart broken by those closest to me, haven’t I?” she said, shutting off the television. “You have until the end of the week.”

“And then what?” he demanded. “You’re not going to put me out on the street. Not your favorite son.”

To his surprise, she said nothing. Instead she walked over to the garbage can and dropped the remote into it.

Bo told himself she was bluffing, that she was just upset about Charlotte. Once Charlotte was back here and the baby was born, things would get back to normal. Well, as normal as life here had ever been.

“What’s the point of throwing away the remote?” he called after her as she headed for her bedroom down the hall.

“Don’t worry, you won’t need it,” she said, stopping to look back at him. “You’ll be at work. Anyway, I’ve had the cable service canceled. Out here we might be able to get one of the local stations clear enough for you to watch. So you won’t need the remote, because what would be the point of changing the station?” Without another word, she turned and continued to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Bo swore and kicked the coffee table over. The one thing he didn’t want was anything to change. He was happy with his life. He slept till noon most days, hung out either watching television or listening to music until it was time to go out with his friends.

He’d had jobs before, but his mother had always been all right when he’d quit them and offered to help her. The only thing that had changed that he could see was Hank. Who was this guy anyway?

The good news was that Hank wouldn’t be around long, Bo told himself. Not once he got to know Arlene. But Bo feared he couldn’t wait that long. He was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Either he had to find Charlotte and get her butt back here, or he was going to have to sabotage this little romance between his mother and Hank Monroe.

He called his friend Cody, since his car was in the shop and his mother had refused to let him drive hers. “Pick me up tonight. My mom has a date and there’s something we need to do. Bring a crowbar. And if you have a ski mask, bring that, too.”

ARLENE WAS GETTING ready for her date with Hank when the phone rang. She hurriedly reached for it, praying it was Charlotte.

The voice on the other end of the line was authoritative, and she knew from experience whoever was calling was going to give her bad news.

“Is it Charlotte?” she cried, just wanting to get the worst over with.

“I beg your pardon? This is Dr. Ray Hamilton calling from the state hospital in regard to your daughter Violet.”

Violet? Had she been released? Was she on her way here? Arlene glanced toward the dark windows and thought Bo was right. She didn’t want to be here alone.

“Is she…?” Arlene couldn’t form the words.

“We are required by law to let you know that Violet will be leaving our facility in a few weeks.”

“Leaving for where?”

“She is being released on her own since she is an adult, Mrs. Evans. I’m sure you were told about your daughter’s medical breakthrough.”

“No. You’re wrong. You don’t know Violet. If you let her out—”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m afraid the evaluation of her mental health isn’t up to you. We are just required to let you know. Good day, Mrs. Evans.”

“No,” Arlene said into the phone even though she knew the doctor had hung up.

Violet was getting out.

She stood in her bedroom too stunned to move. Hadn’t she known that her life had been going too well? The business? And Hank?

Hank. She felt her heart sink. For just a few hours she’d let herself believe she could be happy.

Not that she’d ever thought she deserved it.

She reached for the phone and dialed Hank’s number, telling herself it was for the best. Better to end it before it was started. Better to end it before he did.

She glanced toward the chair where her mother had sat for years.

You’re right, Mother. It’s all my fault. You told me I would end up alone. You were right. That must make you very happy.

She made a swipe at her tears. Hank’s line was busy. She’d have to try again in a few minutes.

Facing the mirror, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would face this alone. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here before.

“WHO IS THIS GUY anyway?” Cody asked as he and Bo drove into Hank Monroe’s ranch.

“We’re about to find out.” Bo had waited until he’d seen Hank drive out before he’d instructed Cody to drive down the hill to the huge ranch house. No one should live in such a large house. Especially some dude living by himself, Bo thought angrily.

“You sure he doesn’t have someone working for him?” Cody asked, sounding nervous.

“I asked around,” Bo said. “Hank has a bunch of land, but the only animals on the place are a couple of horses. He has Claudia Nicholson come out twice a week and clean. There’s no security system.”

Cody pulled up in front of the house, cut the engine and sat for a moment, staring at the house. “Is the guy crazy?”

“Apparently so, since he’s dating my mother,” Bo quipped. “Come on.” He opened his door and climbed out.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Cody asked.

“Whatever we can find.” Something incriminating. So he could tell his mother what he suspected she already suspected: Hank Monroe was too good to be true. Bo was counting on it as he picked up a rock to bust a window.

“This guy is a fool,” Cody said as he tried the front door and it swung open. “The door wasn’t even locked.” His friend made a face as Bo dropped the rock. “I don’t like this. Seems a little too easy, you know?”

Bo knew. “The guy is clueless. Don’t worry about it.” He shoved past Cody and entered the cool, dim, massive living room. Hank Monroe apparently had money. But how had he made it?

“Where do we start?” Cody asked as they took in the place. “Nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he married your mother.”

“He’s not going to marry her,” Bo snapped. “No one marries someone like her unless he has to.” He’d heard how she’d come to marry Floyd Evans; he’d overheard his grandmother Evans talking about it. Floyd Evans wouldn’t have married her except that she’d been pregnant with Violet.

“Still, what does it hurt having a guy like this dating your mother?”

Bo ignored the question. He didn’t like talking about his mother’s love life. He couldn’t imagine what Hank saw in her. The guy had to be up to something.

Cody followed him down the hallway.

“You check the bedroom,” Bo ordered. “Look for drugs or anything weird.” He stepped into what was obviously a home office and went straight to the file cabinet first. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he didn’t find anything interesting and turned to the computer.

The computer appeared to be brand-new, state-of-the-art, and it didn’t have anything on it except the software it had come with.

Discouraged, he glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the answering machine—and the flashing red light.

He reached over and hit the play button.

HANK FELT HIS CELL phone vibrate when he was not two miles from the ranch. While he didn’t lock the doors at the ranch, he did have a security system of sorts: when a door was opened, he got a call on his cell. And since this wasn’t the day that Claudia Nicholson cleaned, he turned around and sped back toward the ranch.

He took the back way in and, as he came over a hill, met with a road full of cattle and two cowboys on horses herding the slow-moving cows to another pasture.

That cost him valuable time.

He parked just over the hill from the house and took out the gun he kept taped on the underside of the SUV seat.