Come Sundown
you.”
“It’s pretty dull now. I used it to try to dig the bolt out of the wall, but it wasn’t working, so I used it to pick the lock.”
“That’s what happened here?” Callen took her raw fingers, pressed them to his lips.
“It took forever, but I got the lock open, got out of the irons. I was figuring to get up to the window … Get out of the irons, get up to the window, break the window, get out the window. Run. Better if I could find a weapon somewhere in there, but I set that agenda.”
“Bet you did,” Callen reassured her, and just buried his face in her hair.
“Then he came in. Not Easy, LaFoy. He knocked me back, tore my shirt. Easy had slapped me a couple times, but I could talk him down. I knew I couldn’t with LaFoy. He looked sick—forgot that, too. Like he’d been sick awhile. Had a coughing fit. I jabbed him a couple times, and he fell on me. I got his gun, was getting it when Easy came in and pulled him off me. I ran—skipped the going out the window part and ran. I saw the trucks, so I headed for them. Maybe I could get away in one of them, then Easy came running after me. I thought I’d have to shoot him, and what would I tell Alice? But then LaFoy came out with the knife. Then Callen rode up—after—when I thought I’d have to shoot Easy again.”
“That’s enough for now. I’m going to come out and see you after we’re all done here. There’s your dad now.”
“I need to stand up, show him I’m okay.”
Bare seconds after Callen let her up, Sam swept her off her feet again.
It would be harder to tell Alice. She knew it just as she knew it had to be done. And had to come from her. She drove home with her father—he needed it—and kept her hand in his the whole way.
All the women stood on the porch, her family, and Jessica, Clementine, Chelsea. She saw pale faces, shadowed eyes, fresh tears. Her mother sprinted to her, clutched her, wept as they rocked each other.
“We’re going to take you inside, take you in, get you all cleaned up.”
“Not yet. Can we all—all of you—sit on the porch first?” She looked at her father. “I need a little while with them.”
“It’s hard to let you out of my sight.” But he kissed her, and signaled the others who drove up behind him to head around the back to unload the horses.
Bodine held each woman in turn, held hard. She saw the questions, the hope in Alice’s eyes, felt her heart squeeze.
Clementine’s chin wobbled, but she nearly managed to speak briskly. “I made a gallon jug of lemonade. I’m going to go get it.”
“Clem, I’d sure like a Coke, if it’s all the same.”
“I’ll get you one.”
“I’ll help you.” Tears just rolled down Chelsea’s cheeks.
Clementine put an arm around her shoulders. “I could use some help. You come on with me, sweetie pie.”
“Alice.” Needing it done, Bodine took her hand. “We’re going to sit. I have some hard things to tell you.”
“Did Sir hurt your face?”
“Yes, but that’s all he hurt.”
On a sigh, a sob, Alice lowered to sit on the porch steps. “You got away. You got away before he could hurt you more, before he could do all those things. I’m so glad, Bodine. I’m so glad. Now Bobby will put him in jail. Bobby’s the law. Bobby’s going to lock him up.”
“He’s dead, Alice.”
Alice blinked at the tears, swiped at them. “Dead?”
“You’re never going to have to see him again. He’ll never hurt another soul. But, Alice, it wasn’t Sir who took me, who locked me up.”
“That’s what Sir does.” Now she groped for Bodine’s hand, trembling.
“Callen told me you realized Easy was your Rory, the Rory Sir had taken away from you. That helped them find me, Alice. You helped them find me.”
“I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“I know.”
“Rory took you. My Rory. He took you and locked you up.”
“LaFoy—Sir told him you were dead. He told him you died giving birth. He never knew he had a mother. And Sir taught him bad ways, bad things.”
Cora sat now, stroked Alice’s back.
“He tried to take two others before me, because that’s what Sir taught him. And … they died.”
“Sir’s in him— What’s his name, his real name?”
“John Gerald LaFoy.”
“John Gerald LaFoy is in him, and he took him from me before I could teach him right and wrong, before I could get enough of me—of us—in him. He was a sweet baby. I tried to take good care of him. He has to go to jail?”
“He will, but I think he needs help, too, and he’ll get help.”
“Like Dr. Minnow.”
“That’s what I think. And I think in a couple days, maybe sooner, they’ll let you see him, talk to him.”
On a strangled sound, Alice pressed a hand to her lips. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I never could.”
“I … I want to see him, to tell him he’s got a mother. He did terrible things, but he’s got a mother. Ma—”
“I’ll go with you.”
“So will I,” Miss Fancy told her, gripping Maureen’s hand. “Reenie.”
“I’ll drive you. I can’t go see him, Alice, I can’t do that. But I’ll drive you.”
“Because you’re my sister.”
“Because I’m your sister.”
Alice kissed Bodine’s bruised cheek. “You get some ice on that. You go get your Coke, and let your ma help you get cleaned up. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Bodine rose, took her mother’s hand, then reached for Jessica’s. “We’re next to sisters now, and I could use some help. Plus, you can tell me who the hell’s running the resort.”
“We’ve got it covered,” Jessica assured her.
With a sigh, Miss Fancy lowered to the step on Alice’s other side.
“I’m going to live in Bodine House with you. I’m going to live there and work sometimes at the resort with Cal and the horses. I’m going to cook and crochet and try to be a mother to my Rory. We’ll be three old ladies in our pretty little house.”
“Who you calling old, girl?” Miss Fancy demanded, and Alice tipped her head to her shoulder.
“I’m going to keep my red hair, just like yours. I’m going to bake biscuits and ride at a gallop. I’m going to sing with my sister and not be afraid. Because I got away, and I came home.”
She put an arm around her mother, drew her closer. And sat, content.
EPILOGUE
Bodine showered until the water ran cool. And though she’d intended to go back downstairs, she didn’t object when her mother and Jessica tucked her into bed. She couldn’t drum up an argument when Jessica ordered her to stay there, and take the next day off on top of it.
Though she had no intention of doing either, she fell asleep before they’d left the room. And slept five solid hours, unaware for one of them Callen stretched out beside her just to be close.
When she woke, she ate as if she’d been starved for a week.
As promised, Tate came to see her, talked her back through the entire ordeal. She remembered details she’d blurred over. Then surprised herself by dozing again on the sofa while he went off to talk to Alice.
Between sleeping and eating—including a big ranch meal outside so all the hands could join in—she hadn’t managed five minutes alone with Callen.
And she had some things to say.
With that in mind, she announced she needed a good long ride. She sent him a look, crooked her finger.
They said little as they saddled the horses. She chose the route, as she had a purpose in mind.
“I never asked how you found me. I know about Alice’s part in it, but—”
“I got lucky. Found a rancher who knew about the place. I was a good mile off, and about half a mile when I heard the shot.”
“I’m going to have to go thank him in person. If you hadn’t come when you did, I’d have killed two men instead of one.”
“If you carry an ounce of guilt over that, you’re plain stupid.”
“I’m not stupid, and I don’t carry any over LaFoy. It’s not something I can just shrug off, but I’m not feeling guilty over it. I would’ve if I’d had to shoot Easy. He’s not right, no matter what he did, he’s not right. And he’s Alice’s son, so I’d have carried that weight. You came, and I don’t have to. You saved me from that.”
“You saved yourself with a goddamn pocketknife.”
“I did, but it occurs to me you gave me that knife. You gave me the tool, and I used it. That’s one more for you, Skinner. Let’s walk a bit. I need to walk.”
She swung off, waited for him to do the same.
Together they led the horses over land where the trees sighed in the wind, the grass waved in it, and wildflowers bloomed.
“I was so scared,” she admitted.
“Me, too.” Now he stopped, turned, yanked her to him. “Jesus, Bodine, I didn’t know a man could be that scared and breathe.” And he’d never, never in his life erase the image of her standing there, her shirt torn and bloody, her face pale and bruised.
“I knew you’d come, but I couldn’t wait.”
“You had an agenda.”
Laughing, she kissed the side of his neck. “I did.”
“Just like you, ticking off boxes. Thank God for it.” He drew back, cupped her face, kissed her. “I’ll make good on that fancy dinner, sooner or later.”
“I’ll make sure you do. Meanwhile … I like the land here. Can’t beat the views.” She gestured toward the mountains as the sun slowly slid through the wide blue sky toward them. “Plenty of room to spread out.”
She walked over, looped Leo’s reins around a branch. Curious enough, Callen did the same, and went with her as she wandered.
“Already got the ranch road—an easy ride, horse or truck, to work. I figure the house goes right about here, facing west for those sunsets. Barn over there, and a paddock. If and when you’ve a mind to do any serious ranching, you might want to add a bunkhouse. Good grazing here, horses or cattle. I wouldn’t mind chickens,” she added thoughtfully. “I’ve always found chickens oddly soothing.”
Maybe his brain was still frazzled some, all things considered, but he had a hell of a time following her.
“You’re talking about building a house here?”
“The house is your part—though I have several nonnegotiable requirements for it. My part’s the land. My parents promised each of us five hundred acres. More if we want it, but that’s more than enough for me to start. If you did so well back in California, you ought to be able to pay for a house.”
He was catching up now, and liked the direction just fine. “I did well enough.”
“Good. I want a good wide porch, all the way around. Big windows, too. Fireplaces. I want one in the bedroom. In fact, I saw a picture in a magazine of one in the master bathroom. I want one of those.”
“You want a fireplace in the bathroom?”
“I do. And one of those big steam showers. I think double porches, though the top one wouldn’t go all the way around. And … I’ll make you a list.”
“I bet you will. How many bedrooms am I building?”
“I think five would do.”
He shook his head. “Six.”
Eyebrows arched, she slanted him a cool look. “Do I look like a broodmare?”
“Six. And one of those rooms where you put up the biggest of big-ass TVs and watch movies.”
Her eyebrows arched higher yet. “How well did you do in California?”
“You have to marry me to find out.”
“I’m talking about building a house. I didn’t say I’d marry you.”
“You’d better.” He only had to glance at Sundown to have the horse give her a solid head butt, sending her into his arms. “You’re outnumbered. Let’s build a house, Bodine. Let’s make a family.”
“I knew you’d come.” She laid her hand on his cheek. “I was so scared, but I knew you’d come. I couldn’t just sit and wait, but I knew. I wonder now if I always knew you’d come back. You’d come back home, and you’d come to me. I couldn’t sit and wait, but I wonder if I knew. It’s nice to think so. One thing’s for certain: When I had the knife you’d given me all those years ago, and I worked on that lock, I knew when I got out, got away, I’d come back to you. I’d come to you, and marry you.”
She wrapped around him for the kiss, swore she felt their roots planting together on that spot.
“I love you, Bodine. You’ll know it every day.”
“I love you back.” She looked into his eyes. “I love you so much back.”
“You hear that?” Callen swooped her up, gave her a spin.
Sundown gave a whinny of approval, hip-bumped Leo into a snort.
With a laugh, Bodine leaned her head on Callen’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a hell of a sunset.”
“Every night.”
“Speaking of nights. Five bedrooms.”
“Six.” He boosted her into her saddle. “And I’ll throw in a hot tub on the top porch, for the master bedroom.”
Bodine looked at the land, imagined the house. “A hot tub,” she murmured.
Grinning, Callen swung into his own saddle so they could ride the land and talk of tomorrows while the sky turned to glory.