Chapter 5
Wyatt was pleased to discover that the Danson household staff had been working in their absence.
The Christmas tree stand was ready for the tree and several boxes filled with ornaments and decorations awaited them in the parlor.
“Hey!”
It was Eddie, cheerful and energetic, who first welcomed them back to the house—he was putting down one of the boxes marke.
“Christmas”
in large lettering.
“Hey, yourself. And thank you!”
Jessy said.
“Well, I hope this helps because Cody just got a message from the rodeo folks—we have to have our paperwork filled out by first thing in the morning. And, as you know, we’d all really love it if you’d enter the barrel racing competitions,”
Eddie said.
“I can get all this set up—not decorate, I promise—just get the tree in the stand and open all the boxes and that way—”
Jessy smiled.
“Yeah, I guess I should go and see our guys and gals out in the stables—I didn’t see them out in the paddocks. They’re all in the stables?”
“Yep. We were thinking that you rode Shiloh last year—”
“And I will go and talk to Shiloh again,”
she promised.
“And Eddie, seriously, thank you all. My grandfather would have been prepared a month ago and—”
“We lost him and that had to be so hard on you—it was hard on all of us,”
Eddie said.
“But knowing that you would be here, well, that helped!”
Wyatt saw that Eddie was sincere and Jessy was touched by his words.
But, of course, by the nature of his work, he thought about all he knew regarding Eddie Andrews.
Just turned thirty, he’d been an excellent student in school—but he hadn’t pursued education beyond a stint in junior college.
That might have been financial.
His parents had been killed in an automobile accident when he’d been seventeen; he’d lived with an aunt, now deceased as well, until he was eighteen.
He’d met Kelly Danson at a rodeo while still in junior college and had come to the ranch while finishing out his last year.
He was, if sources were current on this, casually seeing a young woman named Cathy Barrow who was a salesgirl at a boutique in Colorado Springs.
Nothing suspicious there, except, of course, in his mind, Wyatt could make up just about any scenario.
Then again, he trusted animals and their instincts more than he tended to trust people—and the horses and the dogs seemed to love him.
“Are you going to ride at the rodeo?”
Jessy asked Eddie.
He winced.
“I don’t mind a stint in the bull riding—I can fall off an animal really, really well! But I would so prefer you doing the barrel racing!”
“Okay, then. Thanks, Eddie. I’ll go out and . . . have a discussion with Shiloh!”
Jessy looked at Wyatt and Wyatt gave her a smile and a grin.
They headed on out to the stables. Tate was on the front porch as they exited the house—where he had been when they arrived. But it was six in the evening and at this time of the year, chilly and almost dark already.
“Hey again!”
Tate said.
“On watch duty, eh?”
Wyatt asked.
“You know it,”
Tate said. He shrugged.
“Cody just wants a human being helping out our critters. No big deal. I sit out here and play with my phone or read or . . . whatever! And everyone gets their turn on our night duty shifts, so . . . of course, sorry! Jessy, you’re here now and all the calls will be yours!”
“Oh, hell, no!”
Jessy told him, grinning.
“You guys have kept this place going great for years and years and I wouldn’t touch what you’re doing right with a ten-foot pole! Anyway, we’re heading to the stables. I haven’t . . . pretty terrible, but I haven’t actually said hello to the horses yet, and this is a horse ranch, so . . .”
Tate brightened up.
“You’re going to ride!”
“Yeah, I guess so. But I’ll have to start working like crazy tomorrow!”
Jessy said.
Tate grinned.
“It’s like riding a bike, you know, just that it’s a horse instead. It hasn’t been that long, Jessy! You were out here last year, and you did great!”
“Well, thanks,”
Jessy told him.
She smiled and started down the steps. Wyatt grimaced at Tate and followed her.
And, of course, started thinking about Tate Laughton.
The man had turned forty-nine last April and Wyatt had been around for his birthday party along with just about every ranch hand and owner in the area. They’d spilled out of Murphy’s Pub, where the party had been held.
Naturally, the teasing had been about it being his last birthday before the big five-oh, when, of course, he’d have to remember that he’d been around for half a century.
Tate had taken it all in good humor.
He’d been married once in his twenties but was long divorced from his wife. He was known to keep company now and then with a woman in town, a widow named Clare Mortimer, who was, in fact, one of the artists who would be featured at the gallery opening coming up. Wyatt had met her a few times; she was attractive, forty-five, and, like Tate, barely graying despite the natural ravages of time. She was nice, cheerful, and, like Tate, energetic. She once told Wyatt that anyone could stay young—at least mentally. Of course, what time might do to the bones had to be handled by doing all the right things.
Tate was born in New Mexico and had worked on a horse ranch there before coming to the Danson ranch almost thirty years ago.
A good suspect for a robber? Probably not.
But then . . .
Was David Benson actually a good suspect?
Wyatt was back to thinking about the friendships he and his parents had enjoyed through the years, but one thing he had learned during his tenure with the bureau was that you never really, really, knew another person or what went on in their hearts and minds.
Then again, because of his own heart and mind, it might be good that he was concentrating on the personalities at the ranch.
Though, of course, David Benson might be guilty of nothing more than a night out on the town. But there was also that strange thing that went along with his studies and his years in law enforcement, something not really a part of either . . .
His sixth sense telling him that something was very, very wrong.
“So . . .”
Jessy murmured as they headed for the stables. She smiled at Wyatt.
“My grandfather was my teacher. He said that the key aspect was remembering to maintain the proper balance and position on the horse. And I’m hoping—”
“You’re hoping; I’m betting on you. Come on, riding a bike, riding a horse . . . Jessy, you’ll be fine. And it will mean so very much to everyone here,”
he assured her.
“Okay!”
The night lights were on in the stables as they always were; it was dim enough to allow the horses to sleep, but there was enough light so that they weren’t stumbling in the dark.
Misty and Morgan were on duty in the center of the stables, hopping up with little woofs to greet them, tails wagging away.
And, naturally, they took a few minutes with the dogs.
“You have a pet in New York?”
Wyatt asked Jessy.
She laughed softly.
“A cat. Clover. He’s old now, a rescue, but a sweetie. He’s with a friend of mine now—I mean, the good thing about a cat is that it can be very self-sufficient. But I had no idea how long I’d be gone, so he’s with Sally Granger, one of my neighbors, who has two cats of her own. And, bizarrely enough, all the cats get along.”
“Nice. I guess you didn’t think about bringing Clover out here.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to subject him to the flight when . . .”
“When you’re not staying. Got it. But hey, it’s great that you’re going to be here—while you’re here. Down, Misty, Morgan! We’ve got to check in on the horses.”
It was almost as if the dogs understood Wyatt. They fell into step as they walked along the stable area.
Rocker was sound asleep, on the ground and not standing. Juniper was asleep standing. Philly Girl walked over for some strokes on the nose. Blueridge also wanted some attention as did Haydon and Braxton.
They all had long professional names on their papers, but in the stable, they were just part of the family.
Finally, they reached Shiloh’s stall.
The running quarter horse stood a good seventeen hands tall; he was a handsome buckskin with an amazing personality. The animal snorted and nosed Jessy as if she was a long-lost relative.
In a way, she was.
And Jessy reacted to the horse. Her smile, the way she talked to the animal and stroked his nose . . .
She might not want to stay in Colorado, but . . .
“Don’t go getting too attached!”
he warned her.
“Shiloh really will not fit in a New York City apartment.”
“Haha, funny, funny!”
Jessy returned. But she smiled at him.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to need to start working with him. Of course, that one paddock has always been outfitted with barrels so that the abilities of our young horses can be shown when they’re up for sale. All I’ll need to do is wake up and start practicing, but, oh! I still haven’t heard from my mom about when to pick her and Dad up at the airport!”
“Why don’t you call her?”
Wyatt suggested.
“Right. I’ll do that. It’s not that late yet . . . She and Dad have a tendency to be in bed by ten, but . . .”
She pulled out her phone and hit a speed dial number. She smiled at him as her mom answered, and then she began to tell her mother that something was all right.
A minute later she ended the call and looked at him.
“Well, I can work tomorrow. They couldn’t get a flight and don’t get here until Friday night.”
“Then I’ll come out and work with you.”
“But you’re not going to barrel ride?”
“No, chicken. I’m not going to compete against you,”
he told her.
“Oh, yeah! I’m sure I really scare you,”
she said lightly.
“But . . . it sounds like you work a lot. I mean, you don’t need to mess up your own life to be with me.”
“I told you. I love being anywhere with you,” he said.
She smiled. And then they were just looking at one another, and the horse hair, dog hair, and the fact that they were in the stables meant nothing at all. They were close already, together at the door to Shiloh’s stall.
And it seemed nothing at all that they both made the slightest move, and she was in his arms, and the kiss they had instigated with mistletoe over their heads suddenly became something instigated as one, long and deep, bodies together, arms around one another . . .
Then, almost as one as well, they eased apart, grinning, with Jessy saying.
“We are kind of in the middle of—”
“The stables. And people will come outside and in here soon enough if we don’t make an appearance back in the house,”
he agreed.
“Christmas setup!”
she told him.
“Right. And let’s get to it!”
“And lots of nosy people hanging around.”
Misty woofed as if in agreement.
“And I don’t really care. But I shall be happy to be extremely discreet!”
“But . . .”
“But?”
“To be continued?”
she asked softly.
Something ripped through him. Lightning. Desire, of course. But again, he was thinking that it was so incredibly strange, so many years had passed, their lives had gone in different directions, and yet in similar ways. Diving, and NYC or not, she still loved her horses—and dogs, as well as her cat!
And tomorrow . . .
His chance.
To study and talk with David Benson, press his suspicions . . .
And be with Jessy. And yet, what would she feel if she knew what he really did for work?
He winced inwardly. Because everything about this was true.
“Tree!”
Jessy said, heading out of the stables.
He followed.
Tate greeted them on the porch. They chatted for just a minute and walked on in.
Then, the rest of the household was inside. Samantha, of course, Cody, David, and even Jenson Applegate.
“So, we waited for instructions from the big boss!”
Cody said, sweeping out an arm to indicate the boxes.
“Ah, guys, come on!”
Jessy begged.
“But you are an artist,”
David reminded her.
She laughed.
“On paper or with paper or whatever! Anyway . . . let’s do it up the way my grandfather liked. Mantel with the runner and the little angels, colorful globe ornaments dispersed with the special ones he collected, Disney and others. And we can put the larger things—like the Santa Claus with the kids—on the coffee table.”
“Okay. I’m on ornaments,”
Eddie said. “Cody—”
“With you. I’ll get them, you place them,”
Cody said.
“I’ll get some of the big guys out,”
David offered.
“Okay, I’ll be second fiddle on that enterprise,”
Jenson told them.
“Mantel,”
Jessy said.
“I’ll help you on that,”
Wyatt told her.
“And I’ll go get some coffee, tea, and cocoa going!”
Samantha said.
“Oh! Jessy, you and Wyatt missed dinner! I’ll put out some little sandwiches with Christmas cookies!”
“Hey, and it’s a Christmas setup!”
Jenson said.
“I think there should be a nice choice on whether those drinks are spiked or not!”
“I’ll leave the spiking to you, Mr. Applegate!”
Samantha told him.
“I will serve it all right by the liquor cabinet!”
Well, they’d already had their share of Christmas cookies, but Wyatt and Jessy both thanked Samantha and they all got to work.
It was nice, or should have just been a nice night, friends working together, chatting, ornaments going up, Christmas carols playing, he and Jessy singing along at times, cocoa, cookies . . .
Just a great pre-Christmas night.
But at one point, Jessy headed into the kitchen to bring some empty plates to the sink.
Wyatt was adjusting the runner on the mantel, but he saw David Benson collect one empty plate and head for the kitchen.
He followed.
But stayed behind in the hall, listening.
“Thanks, David!”
Jessy said.
“Sure. Ah, nice night, really nice night. But hey, I know you’re not staying.”
“I haven’t lied.”
From his vantage point, Wyatt could see that Jessy was at the sink; David Benson was leaning on the counter by her, watching her.
“Yeah, well, I guess you need to find your grandfather’s treasure first.”
“His treasure?”
Jessy asked.
“He always considered this place, his family, and his life here at the ranch with all of you to be the best treasure any man could ask for in life.”
David laughed.
“Yeah, he was that kind of a guy. But he had a treasure. He always said that he wanted it for you. His granddaughter! The amazing artist!”
“Well, you know he loved my dad, first,”
Jessy said.
“Of course, but . . . hey, what do I know? Maybe he has some kind of treasure somewhere that only an artist would appreciate!”
“Well, I went out to see the horses tonight and had a talk with Shiloh! That horse is a treasure, for sure! Anyway, last of the dishes for now—”
“Sam usually does them, you know. If she hadn’t gotten to them tonight, she’d have gotten to them in the morning. And hey, your parents can’t come until tomorrow? Too bad. That’s a shame.”
“Yes, but they’ll get here. And, in a way, I guess it will be hard for Dad, but great for him and my mom to be out here, too. Gramps would have been happy!”
“Still, you should look into that treasure thing—he talked about it now and then. Hey, who knows? Kelly Danson was one cool guy. Maybe he had a stash of pirate gold or something like that!”
David said lightly.
“David, honestly, he never, ever mentioned a treasure to me—of any kind, other than that he considered his family and his life to be the greatest treasures any man could ever want.”
Wyatt frowned as he stood silently in the hallway.
Treasure?
Did David Benson really believe that there was some kind of a treasure at the ranch—and did he believe that Jessy knew about it?
Of course, Wyatt had known Kelly Danson all his life; he’d cared deeply about the man, of course—he was everything that Jessy remembered, a man who had been great to his employees, kind to everyone in the world.
He’d loved horses and, of course, he survived on selling his prized quarter horses, but he never let an animal go if he doubted someone’s ability to care for it well.
But as far as a physical treasure went . . .
Once, just once, Kelly had mentioned the word treasure when he talked to Wyatt, a few years back, when Jessy had still been in school.
Kelly had talked about his love for his son, how gifted he was because his daughter-in-law was a true gem, and that Jessy was a true gift in life.
He was a little worried, because, to a man who had worked hard and physically all his life, the pursuit of art was an “iffy”
major in college and an even scarier determination for a career.
But Kelly had said, no matter what . . . well, his “treasure”
would have .
“treasure.”
And left Wyatt there, standing in the hall eavesdropping and wondering if there was something here, hidden somewhere at the ranch, that might be considered .
“treasure.”
David Benson seemed to think that there was.
David laughed, standing straight.
“Ah, well. It’s fun to think about. You know, pirate gold, stashed somewhere and discovered!”
“Pirate gold—in Colorado. Hmm. Maybe pirates took to riding the range after they went to sea!”
Jessy said lightly.
“And, hey, I think we’re just about done. I’m willing to bet that the house looks terrific.”
“Hmm, maybe one more cocoa for me. You want another? Some tea?”
David suggested.
“No, thanks. I’m going to say good night to everyone and head up soon. With the rodeo coming up and me finally deciding that I am going to ride, I want to spend the day tomorrow working with Shiloh. But thanks!”
Jessy said.
Wyatt quickly moved into the kitchen.
“Oh, hey! There you are. I was starting to worry that you’d lost your way in the kitchen!”
Wyatt teased.
“This one lose her way? Oh, so doubtful!”
David said.
“Anyway, how about you? I’m going to pour myself another from that jug of hot chocolate. You?”
“Oh, I think I had a few too many! Had a spiked one, and damn, but that Jenson Applegate knows how to pour!”
Wyatt told him.
“And I want to be awake and aware tomorrow, too—help Jessy get going when she works with Shiloh.”
“Ah, of course! We always knew you two would end up being major lovebirds one day!”
David said.
Wyatt and Jessy looked at him, startled.
David laughed.
“Yeah, you could see sparks flying when you were kids. Back then, hey, that three-year age difference was a lot. But the older you get, the less a couple of years matter, and once you guys were both teenagers, well, the sparks were flying! So, hmm. Maybe you have the magic that can keep Jessy here!”
David said with a shrug. He lifted a hand.
“Never mind! Don’t mind me. Just the hired help!”
He headed out of the kitchen. Wyatt looked at Jessy.
Jessy looked at Wyatt.
She smiled.
“Wow. I didn’t know that!” she said.
He smiled back at her, but he found himself more worried than ever. The robbers who had locked Chrissie Dunworth in an underground hole and put her mother in the intensive care department had struck so many times—and were growing bolder.
What if . . .
There were too many people at the ranch. The robbers had struck empty houses, or when they knew they’d encounter perhaps just one person, easily terrified and subdued, or, as in the Dunworth case, two women who were taken entirely by surprise.
That meant that . . .
They wouldn’t strike here. Because there was no way that everyone Kelly Danson had hired was a crook. Not Cody, who had been with him since he’d been a kid. Not Samantha, not Tate . . .
But David had been around forever, too, or so it seemed. Eddie Andrews was a fairly new element in the mix, but he’d been here for several years now, too.
“Sparks, huh?”
he asked her.
To his surprise, she walked over to him.
“Did you know I had a crush on you when we were kids?”
she asked him.
He smiled.
“You were off-limits. Too young.”
“Ah, but you didn’t mind teasing me—turning me into a pescatarian!”
“Okay, now, that was your decision. I mean, you were petting dairy cows, so nothing was going to happen to them!”
She grinned, a hand on his chest.
“You know,”
she told him.
“they have great recording studios in New York.”
He smiled at that.
“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
he asked softly.
“I told you and I meant it with my whole heart. I have no idea what we really were as kids—if sparks flew or whatever. I know that you were always a really great human being, just like your grandfather. Goes to show, kindness and decency can be taught. And I know that now, I’m happy to be anywhere with you.”
“Hmm. So, you didn’t say that you couldn’t come to New York.”
“I could come, but . . . my work . . .”
“The ranch?”
He laughed.
“My father will have a solid hand on the ranch for years to come. Of course, I do help out and I do travel . . .”
“You could travel to and from New York!” she said.
“It’s complicated,”
he said simply.
Then he was grateful to be interrupted.
Cody had come into the kitchen.
“I’m going out to the porch—my turn to help Misty and Morgan keep watch over the night!”
he told them.
He yawned and gave himself a slight tap on the cheek.
“Just need to keep myself awake!” he said.
David Benson came in behind him.
“Cody, you’ve had a big day. And you’re the best when it comes to helping Jessy get Shiloh in shape for the rodeo,”
David said.
“Everyone is yawning in there. You guys can all go to bed. I’ll take the night shift.”
“I’m all right,”
Cody told him.
“Wyatt is going to be helping Jessy and I’ll check in on them, but he knows the horses better than I do, I think!”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. My Christmas present to everyone,”
David said.
“You guys all go and get some rest.”
“I guess I should head on out,”
Wyatt said.
But Jessy and Cody yawned at the same time then.
And a loud alarm seemed to go off in Wyatt’s head.
They’d all been together, in and out. But there had been a hell of a lot of spiked cocoa, coffee, and tea going around.
Except that . . .
Jessy hadn’t had anything in her cocoa—she wanted to be at the top of her game, riding for the first time in months, getting ready for the challenge of a barrel race.
He’d been careful himself, only pretending to drink one cup of coffee, saying that he was falling asleep without any help and wanted to get through the decorating evening.
“I’ll head on out!”
David said.
“Oh, Wyatt, maybe—”
Wyatt made a pretense of yawning, too.
“Wow. I may have to pass out on that couch in the office out in the stables,”
he said.
“A little afraid to drive home! Wow. How the hell did we get so tired today?”
“’Tis the season!”
David said lightly.
“Jess—is that okay with you? If I pass out in the stables?”
Wyatt asked.
“Oh, of course, Cody—”
“Fine with me,”
Cody said.
“I just need to warn you, Wyatt, a couple of dogs may be sleeping on top of you by morning.”
“No problem,”
Wyatt said. “Jessy?”
“Of course! You’re always welcome to be here, Wyatt. Good night, then, and see you bright and early in the morning!”
she said lightly, smiling at him.
“It’s late for the early to bed, early to rise crew!”
Cody said, laughing.
“So, cool, and thanks, David.”
“You got it,”
David said.
Wyatt nodded and turned.
“I’ll head out with you,”
David told him.
“And collect the rest of those guys and get ’em out so that Sam and Jessy can get some sleep.”
“Sure,”
Wyatt said.
“Thanks, David!”
Jessy told him.
It wasn’t right. Every sense in his body was telling him that something had been planned, that . . .
The hands would all be knocked out. Jessy and Samantha would be knocked out. David could do whatever he wanted to do, then feign himself as a victim of whoever had come in as well. Or . . .
Or he’d be ready with his partner—or partners—in crime to take off for an island somewhere, one that wouldn’t allow extradition to the United States.
But at this moment, there wasn’t a damned thing that he could prove.
He could only pretend to pass out in the stables.
“Let’s call it a night!”
David said as they reached the living room.
“Yeah, sad, we’re hardly the last of the great partyers!”
Eddie said.
“And I’m still young! What the heck?”
His words were greeted with laughter. Samantha looked at Jessy and said.
“Thanks for all the help. Do not pick up another thing! I swear I’ll have it all cleaned up in the morning!”
“That’s fine, Sam, thanks,”
Jessy said.
“Um, what do we do about Jenson?”
Samantha asked.
The business manager was on the couch, his head leaned back.
He was snoring.
“Well, maybe you guys could stretch him out a bit—and just leave him, I guess,”
Jessy said.
“There’s a plan!”
Eddie agreed.
He went over to the sofa where Jenson Applegate was sound out; he didn’t open his eyes or make a protest as Eddie and Cody tried to straighten him out so that he was lying lengthwise.
“We got it!”
Eddie announced.
“Well, then . . . good night, all!”
David Benson led the way out. The hands headed toward their rooms in the building behind the stables.
David took up a position on the front porch, leaned back in the chair.
“Night!”
Wyatt said, heading to the stables.
He noted as he did so that Eddie Andrews paused on his way out to the rooms with Cody and Tate.
He seemed to be looking back, perplexed. But then he seemed to give himself a mental shake and move on.
Wyatt didn’t switch on the lights or go to see any of the horses; the dogs, of course, wagged their tails and followed him as he headed into the office and stretched out on the sofa that was there, across from the desk.
He lay awake and waited.
A half an hour passed.
And then he heard quiet footsteps, someone tiptoeing out to make sure that he was asleep. Misty whined a bit but wagged her tail.
Wyatt remained where he lay, curled into the sofa, just letting his eyes open a slit.
And, as he’d expected, it was David Benson.
And, after checking on him, the man headed back to the house.
Wyatt waited for a beat.
And then he rose and followed.
The door opened. Jenson Applegate was standing there.
“Ready for this?”
he asked David.
“Oh, hell, yes! Hell, yes!”
David assured him.
And the two disappeared into the house.