Castle Rock (6 page)

Sighing, Serena opened her eyes. The moonlight-dappled room was lovely, wide and deep with sharply bright Indian art on the creamy adobe walls. The moonlight touched her magnificent collection of Kachina dolls. Feathered headdresses glinted gold or green or red. Each Kachina doll, and she owned sixty-four, faithfully represented a Hopi deity. As a child, she had looked forward eagerly to the times when the Pueblos permitted visitors to come and watch the dances. Each dancer's mask represented a god. Serena would eagerly match in her mind the huge swaying masks with her Kachina dolls. She knew them by heart, the Warrior God, the Corn God, the Snake God, the Rain God, and so many more. Joe Walkingstick had patiently taught her the story of each doll, making them figures of glory and power.

Serena smiled in the darkness. Dear Joe. She wished suddenly that she had talked to Joe about Jed. Joe wouldn't say much. That was not the Indian way. But whatever he said would be trenchant. She remembered his quiet observation last summer about Peter. “Not a man to hunt with.” At the time, she had been shocked. That was before Julie took him away. Later Serena would remember and know that Joe had seen more than she. Joe was right. You couldn't trust Peter.

Serena bunched the pillow behind her head and wondered if Joe had ever said anything about Peter to Julie. If he had, obviously she had ignored his words.

Julie.

It couldn't be like last summer. Julie was married now.

Her throat felt dry. Being a married woman might not stop her. Julie was capable of going after Jed just because he was a handsome man and because Serena liked him. Julie would know that, of course. It probably hadn't taken her a day to sense that Serena cared.

Was that her motive? Was it spite?

But why? Why should Julie want to hurt her? Perhaps she didn't. Perhaps her behavior was more instinctive than that, the automatic response of a beautiful woman to an attractive man without any thought at all of Serena. Or Peter.

Serena turned on her side and stared toward the windows. Determinedly, she shut her eyes and pictured Missionary Lake, high in the mountains, the deep soft dark water, moonlight rippling over it. Finally, she slept.

When she opened her eyes again, the ghostly light of dawn touched her room with silver and gray. So, she thought muzzily, she had finally slept. It must be very early, not even five yet.

Far away she heard a door slam.

Serena sat up and strained to see the luminous dials of the clock on her bedside table. Who was up this early?

Gravel crunched beneath her window.

Serena threw back her covers and hurried to look out.

Uncle Dan walked swiftly down the path that led to the stables. He was carrying a rifle.

Serena frowned. Where could he be going so early and with a rifle? Then she shrugged. They were going to fly into Albuquerque about ten to pick up some medicine for one of the mares who had developed an eye infection. She would ask him then.

Suddenly dull with sleep, she turned back to bed and slept heavily until the alarm rang. She plunged into her morning chores and didn't have time to think about Uncle Dan or worry about Jed and Julie.

She was in the tack room just before nine o'clock when she heard the shouts. She knew immediately something was wrong. By the time she reached the corral, a crowd was gathering.

Then she saw Senator.

A boot hung from his left stirrup.

Joe walked slowly toward the big black horse, a hand outstretched. The horse sidestepped and his eyes rolled uneasily.

Jed was waving back the hands, making them give Joe plenty of room. “Senator's scared,” he said quietly. “He's dangerous. Everybody be quiet.”

“Uncle Dan?” Serena cried out.

Jed turned. His face told the story. “Senator came back riderless.”

“Oh my God.”

The search began immediately. Three parties of riders set out in different directions.

“The plane,” Serena said quickly. “Let's take it up.”

She and Jed jumped into the jeep and drove furiously to the airstrip.

“I saw him leave this morning,” Serena said bleakly as they took off.

Jed waited until the plane gained altitude. “Did you see which direction he went?”

“No. I saw him walking down to the corral.” She peered out of her window at the dusty rugged country. “Oh, Jed, what do you suppose happened?”

He turned the plane to the west. “It's pretty obvious, isn't it? It's that damned horse. He rode him one time too many.”

Serena didn't answer. Sure, Senator was dangerous. Everybody knew the horse was nervy, but no one was more aware of Senator's weaknesses than Uncle Dan. Uncle Dan knew how to handle Senator.

They searched in silence, each of them staring grimly down at the endless dun-colored country and, coming closer now, huge reddish Castle Rock.

“Jed, look down there. Look!”

Jed slipped the plane down along the side of the immense rock, into the shadow that it threw, and there, like a crumpled sack, they saw him among the boulders. As Jed turned the plane, Serena pressed her hands against her face.

“Serena, I think I can set her down here. There's plenty of room and it's pretty level. Will you risk it?”

Her hands dropped. “Of course,” she said quietly.

The Aerocommander hit hard, rose, hit again, settled into a steady run. Jed eased her in a turn and they came alongside Castle Rock. The plane jolted to a stop. They climbed from the cockpit, jumped to the ground, ran breathless up the sandy ground and into the rock debris at the base of Castle Rock.

Uncle Dan's body was wedged between two big boulders.

Serena knelt by him, touched a cold hand, and tried not to see the bloody abrasions on his head and face.

Jed stared silently for a moment. Then he began to walk along Castle Rock, looking down. After a bit, “Serena, come look at this,” he called out as he stopped.

When she joined him, she saw the glint of metal and then she remembered.

“It's Uncle Dan's rifle. He was carrying it this morning.”

Jed frowned. “Are you sure? I've never seen him ride out with a rifle.”

“He did this morning.”

“I wonder why?” Jed asked slowly. He lifted his head to look up at the looming mesa. “Why would he bring a rifle here?”

“I don't know,” Serena said uncertainly. “Why would he come here alone?”

They both looked at the desolate countryside, then Serena said quietly. “There's Uncle Dan's hat.”

Jed went after the hat. He brought it back to her, the crown crushed, the brim smeared with blood.

“It looks pretty obvious,” Jed said. “Mr. McIntire must have been dismounting—and Senator reared.”

Serena could see it in her mind, the huge black horse, always skittish, Uncle Dan swinging his leg over Senator's back. At that instant, something must have startled Senator, making him rear. Uncle Dan must have lost his balance. As he slipped, his boot heel hooked in the stirrup. Senator, spooked and dangerous and wild, must have started to run, and the thing hanging at his side would have driven him crazy. Uncle Dan lost the rifle and then his hat and, soon, horribly soon, he would have been battered senseless.

Jed found a tarp in the plane and worked the body free. The two of them wrapped Uncle Dan in the tarp and struggled back to the plane, and somehow Jed got their tragic load up and into the back.

The next two days were full of periods of frantic activity and long, slow, agonizing hours of quiet. Father Dominguez came from Santa Fe to say the funeral mass. Ranchers came from hundreds of miles around. Serena directed Millie in preparing the huge meal to be served on trestle tables on the patio. She was so busy she had little time to realize her sorrow. But, as Father Dominguez said the final prayer and made the sign of the cross over the plain pine coffin, tears slipped down her cheeks.

The mourners stood in a semicircle, the family in front, around the edge of the grave Joe and the men had dug the day before in the shade of a huge cottonwood near Blue Stone River, a half mile from the hacienda. Danny's face quivered and Serena slipped an arm around his thin shoulders and held him tightly. He was so little to lose his grandfather, to be left now with only Julie and Will as his family. Serena glanced at Julie. She wore a most becoming black dress. A black lace mantilla shadowed her face.

But Julie hadn't cried. Then Serena was shocked at her thought. That wasn't fair. Julie and Will loved Uncle Dan, too. After all, he had raised them just as he had Serena. The three of them and Danny were equally bereft.

With a quiver of shock, Serena looked at Will. She had been so busy, trying to make sure the dinner preparations were complete and helping greet Uncle Dan's friends from all over the state, that she hadn't even thought of Will.

Now she must do something about Will.

Father Dominguez was stopping to speak to each member of the family, clasping their hands for a moment. After he had spoken to her, Serena tried to move unobtrusively. She took Will's arm and pulled him along the path with her.

“Will,” she whispered angrily, “how could you?”

He paused. His big body wavered ever so slightly.

Quickly, Serena gave another firm tug and they started walking again.

“Shouldn't have happened,” Will said slowly, thickly, each word an effort.

He was drunk as a lord, Serena thought angrily. She took a deep breath. It wouldn't help matters to be angry with Will. But what in the world was wrong with him? He had been drunk at the party the night before Uncle Dan died. Now he was drunk at the funeral.

Julie and Peter were leading most of the funeral party around the side of the house toward the patio. Even Jed was helping steer guests there. Jed had certainly managed to become Julie's second-in-command quickly.

But she didn't want to think of that. Not now. Not with Uncle Dan so newly buried. And she must see to Danny. She looked back for Danny and saw with relief that Joe Walkingstick was beside Danny, holding his hand. She had time to try and do something about Will. It would be such a disgrace if Uncle Dan's friends realized he was drunk.

Once on the patio, she steered him toward a side door. He came along docilely until they reached the stairs. Then he tried to turn back.

“Got to talk,” and he turned to go back through the den to the patio.

“Julie and Peter will see to everyone,” she said soothingly. “You need to rest, Will. You can visit later.”

He shook his head heavily. “Too late.” He stared down at her and tears began to well in his eyes. “Too late.”

“It is late,” she said gently. “Time for you to rest, Will. Let me help you up to your room . . .”

“Don't understand,” he said irritably. He licked his lips. His eyes opened and closed. For a panicked moment, Serena was afraid he was going to pass out. She must hurry, get Jed and Peter to help before any of the guests came into the house. Then, with a swell of relief, she saw Will open his eyes again and look at her blearily. “It's the sheriff,” he said slowly and distinctly. “I need to talk to the sheriff.”

He lowered his head and was about to start off again when Julie came up beside him. When he saw her, his big shoulders drooped.

Julie looked at him coldly. “Soused again?” She turned to Serena. “Let's get him upstairs.”

Serena could see the misery in Will's eyes and a mute appeal, but she too wanted to keep him from public view. She took one arm and Julie the other and they led him into the house. Upstairs, at the door to Will's room, Julie said, “I'll see to him now. You'd better go down, see about the guests.”

Serena returned to the patio and the afternoon passed as she visited with Uncle Dan's friends, many of whom had come from far corners of the state. She thought of Will when Sheriff Coulter patted her shoulder. “Damn shame, Miss Mallory. We all thought the world of Dan.”

“I know you did. It means so much to us that so many of you came today.”

The big man shook his head wearily. “I told him a thousand times to get rid of that horse, but Dan wouldn't listen. Damn shame.”

Jed drew her aside once that afternoon. “Serena, I hate to bring this up just now, but Joe and I were wondering about the Hereford sale tomorrow in Roswell. Your uncle had planned to go and buy that bull from the Tomas ranch. Do you think we should go ahead?”

“I suppose so,” she said slowly, “but perhaps you better check with Julie.”

“Okay.” He paused then asked gently, “Are you all right?”

Suddenly tears glistened in her eyes, but she said, “Jed, it's Danny we must think about.”

“Joe's with him. He'll be all right.”

A little later she saw Jed with Danny and it made the afternoon better.

Serena awoke early the next morning and lay sleepily, waiting to hear the clump of Uncle Dan's boots down the hall. Sickeningly, she remembered. She got up quickly, dressed, and went down to the kitchen for breakfast, and by eight o'clock she was in Uncle Dan's office. She stopped for an instant beside the old red leather chair that had been his, gave the back a light pat, then sat at her own smaller desk and reached for the ledger. She had plenty to do. She would bury her grief beneath mounds of figures.

When the door creaked open behind her later in the morning, she didn't even look up. She was deep in figuring the new price for baled hay.

“So here you are.” The tone challenged.

Serena swung around and faced Julie. “Yes. Here I am.”

Julie walked closer and looked down at the papers on Serena's desk. “What's all this?”

“It would be a little hard to explain, Julie. I've been helping Uncle Dan with the ranch books and the correspondence since I came home.”

Julie picked up the ledger, flipped through its pages, dropped it back onto the desk. “I'll have Peter look it all over.”

“Why?” Instinctively, Serena's voice was combative.