Chapter 6
“I don’t know why you insist on working us right into the ground,” Jasper, one of the ranch hands, called out to Blaze as he stuck his boot in the stirrup.
Blaze Harrison sighed, fed up with the whining and complaining. “I have a shift tomorrow, and I don’t trust y’all to keep your heads on straight if I’m not here. The Youngs need these horses to do well at the sale in a few weeks.”
Jasper and Colton, another hand, grumbled under their breaths, but still did as they were told. Jasper mounted up on the palomino gelding under the lights of the arena, and Colton sat atop a black mare, who was there solely for back up, if needed. Blaze leaned against the pipe railing, fatigue pulling at his senses and making his head throb.
Peter Young was a good man, but he ran a skeleton crew on his ranch, and it was nearly impossible to keep up with everything now that he was gone. It didn’t help that Blaze worked two jobs, picking up shifts as a sheriff’s deputy for the county.
“This one’s got a level head,” Jasper called out to Blaze as he trotted by on the horse, kicking up reddish brown dirt .
Blaze nodded beneath his dark brown Stetson. “Yep, appears so.” He watched as Jasper started a figure-eight pattern, and then checked his watch. It was nearly eleven o’clock, and that’s exactly why he was shocked when headlights came pulling in the driveway. He narrowed his eyes, making out late Mr. Young’s blue ford pickup.
Beth.
“I’ll be back,” Blaze called out to the guys before climbing over the white fence and heading toward the front of the big red barn, where she had parked.
He wasn’t sure what it was about her that was so intriguing. Maybe it was the fact that she was a criminal defense attorney in Chicago, so she spent her time representing shady figures—or maybe it was the way she hated this place so much, with the only reason being that her brother had died here.
Which, he supposed, was reason enough… maybe.
“Beth,” he greeted her, stepping into her view.
She startled as she was halfway out of the truck. “Jeez!” Beth glared at him, though there was something else there in her expression…
“You okay?” he asked carefully. “You look shaken up.”
She continued to shoot him daggers, her face unusually pale—but maybe it was just the artificial lights. “That’s what happens when someone pops out of nowhere in the middle of the night.”
He gestured back to the glowing arena lights. “I don’t think I popped out of nowhere. You should’ve seen me coming. There ain’t no darkness with those mega lights. Your dad had ‘em installed so I could work the younger horses at night.”
Beth’s lips twitched downward. “That was nice of him. I bet they were expensive. ”
“He got them secondhand, but yeah.” Blaze could see the scrutiny on her face, and while he didn’t understand it completely, he did wonder about the financial shape of the Youngs. He had heard rumors about Peter and some poor decisions he had made after his son passed away…
And sometimes those kinds of decisions can lead to a lifetime of damage.
“Anyway,” Beth’s voice brought him back to the conversation. “I’m going to bed now, so have a great night.”
He frowned. “You wanna see the newest prospect?”
She shifted onto her heels, looking worse for wear in the moment. “I don’t know… You can show me tomorrow. It’s been a long night.”
“Yeah, so come see your dad’s favorite from the three-year-old string. You might want to keep him for yourself.” Blaze knew that he might’ve been overstepping bounds, but honestly, it would’ve been nice for Beth to take some kind of interest in what her mom had left. Maybe then, the woman would consider staying, instead of abandoning her only family…
“I really would like to go to bed,” Beth’s voice grew sharp, the lines around her green eyes deepening. “It’s late. You can show me tomorrow.”
He sighed. “Okay. Get some rest then. Hope you’re doing okay.”
“I’ll never be okay when I’m here,” she muttered under her breath as she slammed the door of the pickup. Blaze watched her closely, noting that her hands trembled at her sides as she stalked off toward the back porch of the old farmhouse.
What happened to you, Beth? Blaze ran his tongue along his bottom, chapped lip, watching the woman as she climbed the steps. He sunk back into the shadows of the open barn door, so that he could continue to observe. Beth didn’t enter the house right away, instead turning to peer out where Blaze and she had just chatted.
But she couldn’t see him. He knew that.
Beth turned her gaze then to the arena, and dropped her head to her hands. She leaned against the porch railing, resting against her elbows. Blaze continued to watch her like that, wondering what was running through her mind. Where had she been tonight?
And why was she so shaken up? Was it just the grief? Or had something else happened?
He scrutinized her for a few moments longer and then gave it up, slipping back around to the arena. It wasn’t his business what Beth did with her life, but it was in his nature to be paranoid. He had experienced his own amount of grief and trouble over the years. In fact, if the people in Rustdale knew half of his checkered past…
Well, he probably wouldn’t be so warmly accepted.
“You sweet on Beth?” Jasper called out as Blaze easily scaled the pipe fence, taking a seat on the top rail.
Blaze shook his head. “Nope.” He did, however, glance back toward the house to see if she’d heard the kid make such an asinine statement.
But she wasn’t there anymore.
“She’s gotten prettier with age,” Jasper continued, riding up and stopping a couple of feet from Blaze. The horse panted from a hard session, and Blaze yawned, rubbing his eyes once more.
“I don’t have an interest in Beth Young,” Blaze reiterated as he dropped his hands to the cool pipe, wrapping his strong fingers around it. “She’s the owner’s daughter. Never a good idea to get involved with them. Trust me.”
Jasper shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Never had the chance, but Beth Young is somethin’. She’s all messed up in the head though—that’s what my brother says. But hey, ain’t the prettiest ones always a little crazy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know your brother.” Blaze dug into his shirt pocket, pulling out a can of Copenhagen. He didn’t dip often, but when he got tired or stressed, he slipped into old habits. He fished out a finger full and shoved it into his lower lip, wiping the remnants onto his jeans.
“You do know my brother,” Jasper said, just as Colton rode up to join them. “My half-brother is Ty Miller. He graduated a couple years before Beth—with Sam and Garrett.”
“Yeah, Ty is weirdo,” Colton, the youngest of the hands, fresh out of high school, burst into laughter. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Jasper, a blonde-headed kid in his early twenties, grinned beneath his hat. “I was raised by my daddy for a reason. He didn’t want me to get no part of my mama’s craziness. Ty got all of it, ‘cause his dad split when he was a baby.”
“Let’s call it night,” Blaze cut in on the conversation. “I’m not in the mood for small town drama.”
“Well, I’ll tell ya some small town drama,” Colton chimed, clearly not having heard Blaze right. “I heard someone say that Garrett Myers?—”
“Nope,” Blaze stopped him. “I don’t care to hear another story. I’m callin’ it a night. You boys need to get on home before the bar lets out.”
“Alright, Dad ,” Colton quipped. “You want me to text you when I make it home, too? ”
“Just get out of here,” Blaze snapped. “I’ll see you both tomorrow evening.” He hopped off the railing and grabbed the reins of both horses. “I’ll put these two up for the night.”
“Look at you,” Jasper chuckled, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “You never extend such a kind offer.”
“You better get moving before I change my mind,” he shot back at the kid. “Or maybe I’ll just call Ty to come and get you.”
“Nope, no thanks.” Jasper hopped off the gelding, shaking his head. “Ain’t none of us want to get mixed up with him—and he’s a cop hater, you know.”
“Everyone is,” Blaze snorted, giving the guys a nod as he headed back toward the barn. He slid the door open, listening to the sound of Colton and Jasper’s laughs filling the silence of the night. They were good kids, but just like he was at that age, they were too mouthy and too eager for trouble some nights.
Which is why they’re better off spending their nights here. If I’d had a place to go at their age, maybe things would’ve been different for me. The thought was fleeting, and at thirty-two, he didn’t spend much time thinking about his young adult life.
Or her.
No, that was a lie. He thought about her all the time.
Every day.
He tugged his hat down as he led the horses in, the ache of loss returning, just like it had for the last twelve years. Someday, it was all going to come together, though. Someday , he’d get his justice for all the hell he’d gone through.
Someday, I’ll get rid of this dang ghost.
The sound of Colton and Jasper’s trucks firing up broke his thoughts, and he grimaced at the loud exhaust, hoping that it wouldn’t wake up either of the ladies inside the house. He peered out the open barn door to the old white farmhouse, but all the lights were off and the porch empty, from what he could tell anyway.
He finished putting away tack, brushing down the horses, and gave the two a couple of alfalfa flakes once in their stalls. They’d be let out to graze the following morning. There’d been quite a bit of rain, and the unseasonably warm temperatures kept the grass coming. It was good for the horses, bad for the wasps.
Blaze shut off the lights of the twenty-stall horse barn, and rolled the door closed, ignoring the resurgence of grief. The only light left was the one coming from the stairwell to his apartment, and it had never felt more appealing than it did right then. He thudded up the steps, an eerie chill in the air giving him pause—but only for a second. He shook it off, having grown used to the strange gut feelings and instinctual cues that something wasn’t quite right.
Seems like everything in this town isn’t quite right.
The vibration of his phone caught him off guard as he unlocked his apartment door and swung it open. He pulled it free from his jeans’ pocket, his heart dropping in his chest.
“What’s up?” he answered immediately. “You’re not on call tonight. Figured you’d be babysitting.”
“I know, I know,” Dylan Meyers answered him. “But uh, this ain’t good. Dad called me about twenty minutes ago. Said he was stuck on some paperwork back at the office and had a complaint of some gunshots out by Hollow Creek Bridge.”
Blaze frowned, the area just a couple miles from him. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“No? Well,” Dylan’s voice came more rushed. “I figured it’d be a waste of time, and Dad just wanted me to get away from the dang bar—you know how he feels about that… But I got here about five minutes ago… And…”
“And what?”
“I found a body down here.”