Convictions (13 page)

She squinted to see through the gloominess, noting the controlled chaos surrounding the corrals. The handful of remaining men were busy roping and saddling horses, then leading the animals into one of the two trailers already hitched to the pickups. As she limped across the muddy yard, she spotted Dawn's slight figure leaning against a corral post. She was more than likely watching Barton. Or was it her brother who stole her attention?

Ignoring the temptation to search for Hank, Olivia joined her father and Buck.

"Just the person we were talking about," her father said to her.

"How's it going?" Olivia asked.

"We've got eleven men, counting Buck and myself. And with Dawn, that gives us an even dozen riders. We'll have to make two trips to Winnie Canyon to get everyone and the horses over there," he explained.

Olivia glanced at the two trailers—one held four and the other only two horses. "Which group are you going with?"

"The second. Buck's taking the first crew to the canyon, then he'll stay with them to start moving the cattle. I'll send Dawn with that group." He adjusted the brim of his hat and scowled. "With all those flash flood warnings, I should've had those cattle moved out of there yesterday."

In the dim light, her father's creased face appeared waxy and haggard. Olivia had the urge to guide him back to the house and insist he go to bed rather than head out to a flooded canyon at night to save some cattle. But she knew him well enough to know he'd never shirk his responsibilities, even if it impacted his health. It was one of his qualities she both admired and loathed.

"I should've thought of it, too, but we haven't had this much rain at one time for a few years," Buck said with a disgusted look. "It's a good thing we got them five prisoners."

"Do they all know how to ride?" Olivia asked. The judge nodded. "Elliott's the best horseman, but Barton and Lopez grew up on ranches, too. In fact, those three were working with the wild horses at the prison before I brought them here. Reger and Mantle can ride, but they haven't done it much. Reger will be in your group, Buck. Keep an eye on him. I'll keep Mantle with me and do the same."

"Will do, boss," Buck said.

"We're loaded," Lance, a reed-thin hired hand called out.

Buck shouted orders, telling which hands to get into the two trucks. Olivia didn't miss the fact that Dawn entered the one with Barton. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered how safe the girl would be with all those men crammed in the cab.

Stop it!

She was overreacting again. Dawn would be safe, especially with Barton. Oddly enough, after talking to the young convict in the bunkhouse, Olivia was inclined to trust him. She just hoped their hormones wouldn't make them do something stupid, which might lead to Barton losing his chance for an early release.

Like
you
should talk.

Olivia frowned at the irritating little voice inside her.

"Olivia, I want you and Hank to go with them and drive the trucks and trailers back," her father said.

She opened her mouth to ask her father why Hank was being used as a driver when he was so good with the horses, but then she caught the shrewd look in his eyes. He knew she was fairly comfortable around Hank so volunteered him to be the second driver. "Thank you," she said softly to her father.

He smiled and winked at her.

She glanced at the trucks, and her heart missed a beat. Now she would have to get into a truck filled with men, too. She reminded herself these were the same men she saw every day, and they'd already had numerous chances to try something. She squared her shoulders and started toward one of the trucks, but her father's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Olivia?" he asked for her ears only.

A frisson of unease scampered up her spine, but she ignored it. "I'm sure."

Hank Elliott paused beside her. "Which truck do you want to ride in?"

Although she could barely see his shadowed face, she could hear the consideration in his voice. "It doesn't matter."

"You both have to ride in this one," Buck hollered. "The other one's full."

Olivia smiled slightly and was rewarded with a crooked grin from Hank. The man in the front passenger seat relinquished it to Olivia. Disappointed she wouldn't be able to sit beside Hank in the back, she allowed him to help her into the truck. She more than liked his firm but gentle grip on her hand and arm and felt bereft when he stepped back and closed the door.

What was wrong with her? She was behaving like a teenager who couldn't sit next to her boyfriend on the school bus.

Once Hank settled in the backseat, Buck pulled out, following the other truck across the muddy, bumpy road. Olivia and Buck were the only two in the front, and Hank was directly behind her.

A metallic jangle told her they were driving over the cattle grate across the road. The nearly full moon momentarily broke free of the clouds and provided some needed light.

Since she had to drive the truck and trailer back to the ranch, she concentrated on the route to the canyon. It had been a long time since she'd been to that part of the ranch, and although she'd once known the land like the back of her hand, time and weather had brought changes to the rugged terrain. Night also gave the landscape an alien appearance.

The moon disappeared behind another moving cloud, and the silver glow vanished. Only the headlights outside and the dashboard lights inside breached the darkness.

"How're you doing?" Hank asked quietly, leaning close to her.

She turned slightly in her seat. "I'm okay."

He reached around between her seat and the door and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. She was tempted to place her hand on his, but he retreated before she found the courage to do so.

The last mile was the most difficult, with water-filled potholes and slippery mud. Buck put the truck into four low and crawled along the narrow road. Finally they arrived, and everybody exited the cab.

Olivia hunched her shoulders against the damp coolness and stood out of the way as the men led the horses from the trailers. Hank joined her after helping lower one of the trailer gates. He crossed his arms beneath his slick poncho.

"She won't let me help her," Hank said, his gaze following Dawn, who was checking her saddle cinch.

"She's independent."

Hank snorted. "A little too independent."

Olivia knew she was treading on dangerous ground. "It sounds like she had to be. She lost her parents, then a year later, she lost her brother."

"I didn't die."

"No, but to her it probably felt that way."

The moon peeked out again, giving Olivia enough light to see Hank's stark face. For a moment, he reminded her of a marble statue, but she knew he wouldn't be cold beneath her touch. No, she suspected passionate fire seethed beneath his calm surface, banked for six years while he was cut off from everyone he cared for.

"I wish she wouldn't do this," Hank finally said, his voice lower and tired-sounding. "I don't think she's done much riding since we had the ranch."

"She said she used to help you move cattle."

"She actually acknowledged me?"

Olivia scowled at his sarcasm. "She doesn't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

Olivia turned to face him, not bothering to hide her impatience with his attitude. "You admitted you were going drinking with this so-called friend of yours the night you were arrested because of problems with the ranch and your sister. Don't you think she knew that?"

Hank stared straight ahead, but Olivia knew he wasn't seeing the dark night. She opened her mouth to press her point, but abruptly closed it. He could figure the rest out on his own.

She turned her attention to what she could see of the long, narrow canyon. Normally, the stream meandered through the rich, grassy area this time of year. But now it looked like a fast-flowing river. She could make out shadowy blobs on the slope and knew those were the cattle they'd be moving tonight.

"Okay, take them back," Buck called to her and Hank.

Hank waved at the foreman, who mounted his horse and led the riders into the narrow valley. Olivia picked out Dawn among the bunch and wasn't surprised to see her riding next to Barton.

"I'll double-check the trailer gates, then take the lead truck," Hank said.

Olivia nodded and limped back to the truck she'd ridden in, except this time she climbed into the driver's seat. When Hank pulled out a few minutes later, Olivia followed. She hadn't driven a truck and trailer for some time, and it took her a few minutes of white-knuckling the steering wheel before she grew more comfortable with the rig.

The trucks and trailers crawled through the mud. Olivia sighed in relief when they hit a better stretch of road, and she put the truck back in four high. She kept her eyes on the trailer lights ahead of her, turning and slowing when Hank did.

Brake lights suddenly flared ahead of her, and she drew to a halt with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She felt a momentary twinge of fear being out in the middle of nowhere with a man she hardly knew.

His door opened, and he put his head down against the rain that had started up again. Hank's shadowy figure moved toward the front of his truck and disappeared from view.

Olivia debated whether to go out and see what the problem was or stay in the truck and wait for him to come to her. She didn't have to wait long as Hank coalesced out of the gloom. She quickly rolled down her window a couple of inches but left her door locked. Not that she thought Hank might try something, but since the attack, it had become habit.

"What's wrong?" she asked Hank as he stopped by her door.

"Flat tire," he said in disgust. "I'd have you go on to the ranch ahead of me, but I don't think you can get around me. The road's too narrow."

"If it was dry, that wouldn't be a problem."

"If it was dry, we wouldn't be out here tonight."

Olivia acknowledged his wry words with a nod, then dug into her pocket for her cell phone. "I'll call Dad and let him know what happened."

Hank hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm going to start working on the flat."

Olivia nodded as she switched on her phone.

No service.

Great. Either this area normally had no service, or the weather was playing hell with reception.

For a full minute, she sat in the truck with her hands on the wheel staring at the trailer canted at a slight angle ahead of her. She couldn't see Hank, so she figured the flat tire was on the truck's passenger side. She'd stay warm and dry if she waited in here, but it didn't feel right with Hank out there probably drenched and shivering in the night. If nothing else, she could hold the flashlight and hand him tools.

She climbed out of her vehicle and slogged through the mud, biting back a grimace at the stiffness in her bad leg. When she came around the corner of the trailer, she spotted Hank kneeling in the mud with a flashlight lying on the ground. She could hear him mumbling but wasn't certain what he was saying, although she had a good idea. Her own vocabulary would consist of four-letter words if she were in his position.

"Can I help?" she asked.

He turned his head sharply toward her, obviously startled by her presence. A scowl captured his lips. "You should've stayed in the truck."

She shrugged. "I thought you could use a hand." Leaning over, she plucked the flashlight from the mud and aimed it at the jack Hank held. "How's it going?"

He sighed, as if knowing he couldn't convince her to get out of the rain. "The mud is making it hard to get the jack to stay in place."

Olivia kept the flashlight on Hank's dirty hands as he scooped away the top wet layer of mud. When he found harder ground, he placed the bottom of the jack on the relatively dry spot and began levering it upward. It held, and when the flat tire was elevated above the mud, he stopped.

She shifted her weight as he removed the loosened lug nuts. The flat came off next. She straightened when Hank stood and followed him with the flashlight to the back of the pickup.

He placed the flat tire in the bed and held out his hand for the flashlight. "I have to go under the back end to get the spare."

"I'll get the tire iron for you."

After retrieving the tool, Olivia stepped back. Between the sound of the falling rain and the iced tea she'd drunk earlier, she needed to take a nature break.

"I have to use the bushes," she said to Hank.

"Okay."

"Um, I'll only be a minute or two."

"No rush." Hank disappeared back under the truck to free the spare tire.

Glancing around at the nearly black surroundings, Olivia shivered but more from the cold then fear. She was safe out here in this beautiful, sparsely populated land. The fear that had been her constant companion for weeks was absent. It was a heady feeling, like the rush she got after winning a big case.

Her bladder reminded her she needed to find a semiprivate area to take care of business. She considered going behind the horse trailer, but Hank might come around there for some reason.

So, carefully placing her feet, Olivia kept the glow of the flashlight in view as she moved away to find a suitable spot. The ground sloped downward more sharply than Olivia expected, and her bad leg gave way beneath her. She put out her hands to brace herself as she fell forward and sank into mud almost up to her elbows. Disgusted, Olivia rolled onto her back, sat up, and wiped her hands across her jeans. She wasn't certain if her hands or jeans had more mud on them. At least no one had seen her less-than-graceful tumble.

Fortunately, her leg didn't seem to have suffered any major trauma. But standing up was going to be a bitch. She shifted again to get her hands beneath her and her left hand landed on something other than mud. Moving her hand, she leaned forward to see what it was.

A scream crawled up her throat and tore through the darkness. Olivia scrambled backward on all fours, away from the human arm she'd touched, barely noticing the pain in her knee. She came up against something solid behind her, and another scream passed her lips.