Chapter 17
A lone in his room, Cal pulled out his phone and called his brother.
“Hey, aren’t you in the middle of branding?” Cam answered.
“I thought you’d be nostalgic for it, so I’m calling to commiserate,” Cal answered, scrubbing at his eyes a final time.
“You know I had a dream once I was putting a calf in a shoot. Woke up trying to truss Maggie with the bed sheet. Freaked us both out pretty bad,” Cam said, giving Cal a much needed laugh. “How’s it going with Bailey?”
“Good, it’s really good. She’s implemented a lot of positive security changes, and she’s become a friend. A good friend.”
“How’s that going over with Is?”
“About as well as you’d expect,” Cal said.
Cam laughed. “I’d say Is would scratch her eyes out, but something tells me Bailey can probably hold her own.”
“That she can,” Cal agreed. He took a breath. Say it, just tell him. Get it over with and the truth will be out there and you can move on.
“Hey, speaking of Is, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Cam said.
Cal gripped the phone tighter. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“I have some vacation time coming up and Maggie’s making me use it this time. We were thinking of getting a house on the gulf, and we want you and Is to come.”
“You…you do?”
“Absolutely. Maggie is, er, extremely family centric. She’s really been on me about the lack on our end, and she’s right. We don’t see you guys enough. Someday we’ll have kids, and we want them to know their uncle and aunt. I want them to see the ranch, to know how we grew up.”
“Okay. I’ll get back to you. Kind of crazy busy right now, you know.”
“Sure, absolutely. I remember those days. But, Cal, I meant what I said. I want us to spend more time together. It’s ridiculous how rarely we see each other.”
“Agreed,” Cal said, his throat beginning to close again.
“Give the calves a kiss for me.”
“Do the same to Maggie,” Cal said, clearing his throat.
“I will, but if I try to brand her again, she’s going to be pretty mad,” Cam said and Cal laughed again. They disconnected and Cal sat on his bed a long time, staring at nothing.
The next morning was Monday, the last day of branding. Bailey started with the men before dawn and worked the entire day. When the sun fully rose, Cal disappeared into the house for a few minutes and handed her a Stetson.
“This was my first hat when I was fourteen.” He placed it on her head, ceremonially, she thought, and then handed her a pair of sturdy leather gloves. “To keep those fingers clean,” he added with a smile.
“Too late for that,” she said, holding her dirt-crusted fingers aloft for his inspection.
“I like a girl with a bit of muck on her,” he said, flicking her hat before he disappeared again.
That night they sat on the porch in the glider, too tired to talk or even move.
“Going to have to cut my boots off,” Bailey said. She was accustomed to hard, physical labor but nothing had prepared her for a full day of ranch work. Bailey felt like everything hurt and maybe she was dying, but she wouldn’t say so because if he could do it and keep functioning, then so could she.
Cal picked up her legs, unlaced her boots, and rested her feet in his lap.
“Those can’t smell good,” she noted.
“I like a girl who smells like a hard day’s work,” he mused.
“You have odd tastes in women, sir,” she returned, and it was the last thing she remembered until she woke up in her bed the next morning, fully clothed.
Cal acted like nothing was amiss, so Bailey followed his lead. They ate breakfast together like usual, drank their coffee in companionable silence, and then she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Did you carry me to bed last night?”
“This is Texas. It’s state law that whenever you happen upon a sleeping female, you carry her somewhere,” he said.
“That must explain your high rate of sleep kidnappings,” she said. “And thank you.”
He tipped his coffee to her. “I’d like to do your patrol with you this morning. On horseback, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sure,” she agreed. “Why, though?”
“Can’t a man see his own ranch without having a reason?”
“Yes, but not you. You have a reason for everything.”
“You’re leaving in a few days, and I want to soak up some time with you while you’re still here,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Plus yesterday was rough and nothing clears out the cobwebs like a good, long ride,” he added.
“True,” she agreed.
“And I thought it might increase my street cred to be seen with la diabla loca .”
“That’s enough reasons,” she said.
“You sure? Because I could keep going.”
“I’m certain, sir,” she replied.
They saddled their horses, packed up their rifles, and set off. Bailey felt antsy and expectant, and she wondered if Cal felt the same. The last few days had been quiet, too quiet. Now that the ranch was returning to normal, she half expected something big to happen, some sort of retaliation or action on the south pasture. She wondered if Cal felt the same and if it was why he had asked to go with her.
She felt his eyes on her often through the day, but when she turned to face him, he appeared not to be looking at her. And then she got caught up staring at him and had to turn away when he turned to look. It was like being fifteen all over again, only when she was fifteen she’d had no interest in boys and certainly never a crush of this magnitude. Bailey had been a late bloomer in every sense of the word, drawing out her tomboy childhood for as long as humanly possible, much to her father’s delight. It had about killed him when she went on her first date at the Naval academy, especially because it had been with the creeper who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
They rode for a long time, much longer than was probably necessary for a patrol. But the time together was peaceful, restorative. They didn’t talk much beyond pointing something out to the other, but that was the way they both preferred it. Beyond words—a mutual understanding of shared interests and friendship.
When they arrived back at the house, they spied a large cardboard box sitting in the middle of the front walkway. It grabbed their attention, diverting them from the barn.
“Did you order another dress?” Cal asked.
“Not hardly,” Bailey replied.
“I didn’t order anything. Maybe Estralita dropped off a stew. I can’t imagine why she’d leave it outside, but it looks like it’s leaking.” He slid down off his horse and headed for the package.
Bailey tipped her head at the box, staring at the liquid oozing from inside. Then she vaulted off her horse, threw herself at an unsuspecting Cal, and tackled him to the ground.
He landed on his back with a thud, Bailey on top of him. “Are you doing a repeat of your first day? Why’d you take me down, little bit?” he asked, his hand caressing her hair.
She shook her head, unable to formulate the necessary words.
His eyes narrowed in concern. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t look in that box,” she finally said.
He froze and turned his head to look at the box. Realization began to dawn on him, and he struggled to get up, to return to the box. Bailey tried to hold him down.
“Cal, look at me. Don’t. Don’t look in that box. We’ll call Sully. Please, please, please…” He was too strong for her. She fought him, but he shook her easily aside and, with a shaking hand, peeled open the top of the box and peered inside. And then he screamed, a primal, horrible scream ripped from somewhere deep. Bailey put her hands over her ears, blocking the sound, but it was too late. She could never unhear it, just as he could never unsee what he had seen in the box.
He stumbled a few feet away to a rose bush and heaved a few times, then stumbled a few more steps and sank to his knees. Bailey sprang up, knelt beside him, and tried to gather him to her, but in his shock he pushed her away and tried to get back to the box.
“No,” she said, shaking him by his shoulders. When that failed to work, she slapped him across the face, hard. He jumped and stared at her. “Do not look at it again,” she commanded, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
He nodded dumbly and sat staring blankly at the horizon. Meanwhile Bailey reached for his phone and dialed Sully.
“I need you immediately. Take the plane.” She hung up without explanation and called Jinx.
“I need you at the house. Now.”
She could hear Jinx’s boots scrambling on gravel as he sprinted from the barn, no easy task for a man of his age, but he made it in record time.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, taking in the scene before him, Cal sitting on the ground like a zombie, Bailey attempting to hold him like a child, a large box blocking the path. Like a beacon, the box drew him, but Bailey stood.
“No,” she yelled with so much force he stopped short. “Come here. Do not look in the box.”
He gave the box a wide berth, sidestepping it as he made his way to them. He knelt beside Cal. He had known him since birth and never seen him this way. He rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with him? Is he snakebit?”
“He’s had a bad shock.” Her glance fell to the box and quickly away. “Help me get him inside.”
They levered Cal to his feet, no easy task as he was much taller than both of them. With effort, they half carried him down the hall to his room and laid him in his bed. He seemed to rally slightly and clutched at Bailey’s hands as if terrified she was going to leave.
“I’m right here,” she soothed. “You’re all right, Jinx and I are here. We won’t leave you.” She sat by him in the large bed, smoothing her hand over his sweaty hair. His face was clammy, colorless. She wondered if he would need medical attention for his shock, but Sully would help her decide when he arrived.
“Bailey what’s in the box?” Jinx whispered.
Bailey didn’t want to say, didn’t want to risk setting Cal off again. A pad of paper and pen rested beside the bed. She reached for it and wrote one word.
Isabel.
“Oh, mercy,” Jinx said. His knees buckled and he groped for the wall behind him. She watched him to make sure he wouldn’t faint or have a heart attack. With effort, he took a few deep breaths and seemed to pull himself together, at least a bit. “I should go keep watch until Sully arrives,” he said at last, quietly.
She nodded and returned her attention to Cal, still gently smoothing her hand over his head. She peered closer at his pupils. They were large and he was still somewhere far away, not yet able to return to himself and be present.
Sully’s plane arrived a little while later. She heard his loud exclamation from the lawn, and then he was beside them, almost as shaken and pale as Cal had been.
“How’s…?” he began, but his voice broke and he couldn’t get any further.
“I kind of wonder if he needs to go to the ER.” She turned her attention back to Cal. He wouldn’t want to, she knew. He would hate to be in public now, to have everyone looking at him, talking about him, pitying him. Tears came to her eyes. She mashed her face to her elbow, pushing them back and that was what finally brought Cal around.
“Bailey,” he croaked, his hand smoothing along hers.
She sniffled and pressed her palm to his cheek. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”
He shook his head almost violently.
“Will you take a sedative?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Jinx,” she called because she could hear him in the living room.
“I heard,” he replied. His mother had been sick for a while and had every conceivable medicine at her disposal. It was illegal and possibly unethical to use her medicine for everyone and everything else, but that was essentially what happened after she passed. Her personal pharmacy had turned into a dispensary for anything and everything on the ranch.
Jinx returned a while later with a pill and a glass of water. Cal downed it. A few minutes later he fell gratefully asleep, pulled into blissful unconsciousness by the weight of the pill.
At last Bailey felt like she could leave him. She, Sully, and Jinx stepped back onto the lawn, keeping their distance from the box.
“What exactly is in the box?” Bailey asked. She had no desire to look, not now, not ever.
“Her head and hands,” Sully rasped. “If you didn’t look, how did you know?”
“The fluid leaking from the box. I’ve seen death before.” She hadn’t known who was in the box, of course, but she’d suspected. And the sound Cal made confirmed it. She closed her eyes, trying to push back the sound and the vision of Cal’s pain. She hoped never to see another human in that much pain again for as long as she lived.
Sully reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. At first Bailey resisted the urge to be comforted, and then she realized Sully might be seeking his own comfort. He had known Isabel a long time, had likely socialized with her, dined with her, maybe even danced with her. And now she was gone in the worst possible way. So she hugged him, and he hugged her fiercely in return, burying his face in her hair and letting a few tears fall.
“I’ve never…that was…how am I gonna…?” They hugged for a while until eventually both of them pulled themselves together and let go. “All right. I called the crime lab. They’ll be here soon. We’ll do statements and all that goes with it then. For now let’s sit and keep vigil.” They sat on the steps, looking anywhere but at the box. After a while trucks began to roll up the long lane. Sully breathed a sigh of relief. Bailey didn’t know if it was because reinforcements had arrived or because he could focus on work. While he and Jinx went to talk to the newcomers, she slipped away and went back to Cal, preferring to keep vigil with him. She sat in the chair beside the bed and watched him sleep until Sully arrived with a statement for her to fill out.
She did so, downed a bowl of cold stew, forced down a glass of water, and returned to Cal’s side. The men went away. Sully came to say goodbye. “Call if you need anything,” he whispered. “I’ll let you know what we find out.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Sully. Try to get some rest.”
“You, too. Keep me updated on Cal.”
“Will do.”
Jinx arrived next, keeping watch with her. He looked all his years then, old and tired. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he whispered after a while.
“There’s nothing that can prepare you for a day like today, but you did well, Jinx. No one could have done better.”
“I didn’t like her, but…” he trailed off.
“I know, me too.”
He sighed and the sound was exhausted. “You can go, Jinx. I’ll stay.”
“I’d argue, but I think he’d prefer you,” Jinx said.
“I don’t know about that,” Bailey replied.
“I do. Good night, Miss Bailey.”
“Good night, sir,” she said, standing to give him a hug.
After he left, she sat by the bed again, resuming watch. Cal didn’t stir. So deeply did he sleep that she checked him a few times to make sure he was still breathing. Finding that he was, she sat back down and stared, counting the hours, thinking, planning. After a while she rested her head on the bed. At some point she drifted to sleep.