Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) (19 page)

Twilight
settled on Raney’s as Grace rolled in with the empty hay wagon. The herd was in
the south section, munching contentedly on stacks of timothy. Here, in the
barnyard, the chickens were scurrying back to the roost, and
Dog had clambered up the front steps to take his place for
the night.
A welcoming quiet, framed by the jingle of horse harness and
squeaky wheels, made Grace feel at home.

If
only . . .

“You
get the stock fed?” Raney called from the chicken coop.

Grace
raised her hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“All
right. Put the horses up and wash your hands. Supper’s eggs and bacon tonight.
Keepin’ it simple.”

“That’s
fine with me.” Grace parked the wagon outside the barn, so she could easily
re-hitch the horses in the morning and move some barbed wire out to the Crazy
Woman section. “Come on, Dandy; let’s get you settled for the night.”

She
unbuckled, unhitched, and untied until she had Dandy free of the harness.
Dog-tired from pitching hay all day, Grace clutched the mare’s halter and
tugged. Dandy resisted and shook her head a few times, as if she didn’t really
want to go.

“Dandy,”
Grace tightened her grip on the halter and pulled harder, “Come on now. We don’t
have time for this.”

The
horse complied grudgingly and trudged beside Grace into the barn, now awash in
shadows. Three steps into the darkness, though, Dandy bowed up again and
grumbled a deep, throaty warning. The horse pinned her ears back.

An
instant later, horrific screeching and braying erupted from the feed room as a
dark mass bolted through the door. Dandy jerked away from Grace, spun, and
backed up to the wall, pinning Grace and squeezing the breath from her.

The
horse squealed, a terrified, high-pitched scream, and reared. Grace saw the
flash of hooves as the horse and a randy mule clashed. Before she could dive
clear of the fight, she caught a hoof to her chest. The pain buckled her knees,
smothering her scream as the air whooshed out of her lungs. She gasped, or
tried to, but her lungs wouldn’t function. Sliding to the ground, she clutched
at the hay and tried to crawl to safety, but her body moved as if it was stuck
in molasses. Panic and confusion overrode rational thought.

Air . . .
she
screamed in her head,
I . . . need . . . air.
My lungs . . .

“Hey!
Hey! Hey!” Raney yelled. Grace heard the crack of a whip, once, twice, and
thought the scuffling animals shifted away, but she couldn’t be sure. Desperate
for a breath, she felt as if Dandy was sitting on her chest. She couldn’t
breathe, she couldn’t see. She reached for Raney, but found darkness instead.

Grace
sucked in a deep breath of glorious, fresh, invigorating air . . .
and sat bolt upright in bed. Her mind reeled with confusion.

Panting,
she clutched the blanket and looked down. Her shirt hung open, exposing much
too much cleavage. Gathering the garment, she sucked in another deep,
satisfying breath, and tried to think.

Then
the pain pounded its way to the front of her mind, like a crazed marching band.
Her ribs ached ferociously and she groaned, but at least she could breathe.

She
touched her side and tried to focus. She had no memory of how she’d made it
here from the barn.

“How
ya feel?”

Raney’s
voice nearly made Grace jump out of her skin. She clutched her shirt tighter
and discovered her boss staring at her from the doorway.

“Fine.”
Grace swallowed and calmed herself. “Better, anyway. I can breathe, but my ribs
hurt something awful.”

“Yeah,
you’ve got some good bruising around your chest.” Raney ambled into the small
room and took a seat in the rocking chair at the foot of the bed. “You’ll be
all right, just sore for a day or two.”

Grace
heard the stiffness in Raney’s voice and dropped her head in shame. The binding
she wrapped herself in had been removed. There was no way Raney didn’t know the
truth.

The
woman leaned back in the rocker and it squeaked beneath her weight. She sighed,
a heavy sound full of disappointment. Grace kept her head down. On top of
everything else, Raney had to deal with this now.

“So,
I might be a smidgen slow, but I ain’t stupid.” The woman paused, waiting
perhaps for Grace to look up, but she couldn’t. Not yet. “I reckon your name
ain’t Greg. Grace, I expect?”

Everything
in Grace broke, and her house of lies crumbled. Tears filled her eyes and a sob
escaped her. Ashamed and humiliated, she hid her face in her hands and wept
like a little girl.

“Oh,
Raney, I’m so sorry.” Misery strangled her voice. “I never meant . . .
all I wanted . . . please forgive . . .”

Her
throat squeezed tight and she couldn’t finish. For the first time in months,
Grace gave up the battle to be strong and let it all out in a soul-shaking,
crying jag.

“Oh,
child,” Raney blurted, rushing to hug Grace. “There, there.” She wrapped Grace
in a tight embrace and rocked with her. “Shhhh, there now.” She rubbed Grace’s
back lightly. “I know this has something to do with that husband of yours. You
must be pretty desperate to try to pull off a charade like this.”

“He
has my son,” Grace blubbered into Raney’s shoulder. “I just want to get him
back.”

“By
working on a ranch as a man?” Raney sounded utterly thunderstruck.

Grace
shook her head and pulled away sniffling, fighting to gather her wits. “He
thinks I’m a prostitute.”

Raney
made coffee for her and Grace, and brought the steaming cups into the bedroom.
Handing one to Grace, she sat down once more in the rocking chair. “Let’s try
this again, shall we? Why don’t you start at the beginning and make some sense
this time?”

Grace
slowed her heart and took a sip of the warm, comforting coffee. A bite at the
end revealed a little something extra in the cup. “Bull thought I was having an
affair with my photographer—”

“Were
you?”

“No.
I would have been within my rights to. There’s never been any fidelity from
Bull . . . but, no. Of course, the truth didn’t matter to him.
He sent me here, and said if I tried to come back and take Hardy, he’d ship him
off to a boarding school and I’d never see him again.”

Raney
took a sip and scratched her head. “How does he know you’re even here? How did
he know you’d come all this way?”

“I
was instructed to check in with the sheriff, which I did. Bull, however, has
since checked on me to make sure I was right where he wanted me. Which is why I
told the sheriff I—Grace—was working over at the Golden Lady. If Bull thinks I’m
miserable, maybe he’ll leave me alone.”

Raney
scrunched her face up in disapproval. “I don’t see how . . .” she
shook her head and started again. “What was your plan, besides to work for me?”

“I
wanted to save enough money to sneak back to Chicago and run away with Hardy.”

Raney
blew on her coffee and shook her head. “And here I am cuttin’ your wages. If
this situation, yours and mine, don’t beat all.” She set her mug on a small
barrel doubling as a table, slapped the rocking chair’s arm, and stood. “Reckon
I know what I’ve got to do.”

“What?”

Raney
marched up to Grace and squeezed her arm. “I’m gonna see Earl. I’ll get a loan
and some cattle from him. We’ll make this place pay, and we’ll get your boy.”

“Aw,
Raney, I can’t let you do that—”

She
cut Grace’s protest with another squeeze. “Hush. I didn’t realize till just now
how much of the fight has gone outta me.” She shook her head. “I’m old, but I
ain’t dead. Let’s give these rustlers and these cattle barons and, yes, even
your husband, a reason to fear the women of the Diamond R.”

Bull
and Lonnie marched across the porch of the neatly-painted Victorian house they’d
been assured was the home of the Golden Lady, and let themselves in. As they
removed their hats, a beautiful middle-aged woman wearing a mere hint of make-up
and a tasteful, high-necked dress met them in the foyer. In spite of all the
horses tied out front, Bull wondered if they were in the right place.

“Gentlemen,
how may I be of service?”

Bull
eyed the place. To his right, diners—all male—clinked silverware and laughed
over their meals. To his left, he saw a young lady draped seductively over a
settee in an ornately decorated parlor. Slowly, she pulled a curl over her
shoulder and gave Bull a sultry wink.

Oh,
yeah, right place.

“I’m
looking for someone, a young lady by the name of Grace Hendrick.”

The
woman’s face hardened a bit. “I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that
name.”

Bull
supposed Grace might have used a false one. “Real pretty gal. Strawberry hair,
big, green eyes, would have showed up sometime in the last month.”

“I’m
sorry. I haven’t hired anyone new since September.”

Twirling
his hat in his hand, Bull wondered about his next step. “Well, long as we’re
here, we’ll grab lunch.” His attention drifted back to the girl in the parlor. “And,
maybe, we’ll indulge in your entertainment.”

The
woman brightened. “Lovely. Follow me, and I’ll seat you.”

While
Bull waited on his steak and Lonnie his fried chicken, both men sat in silence.
The more Bull thought about things, the angrier he got. Tapping his fingers on
the shot glass full of whiskey, he tried to piece things together. Somehow,
Grace was attempting to throw him off her trail. Maybe the sheriff was a liar,
or simply an incompetent boob, but Bull didn’t think so.

“What
do you think, boss?” Lonnie asked softly.

Bull
raised the whiskey to his lips and tossed it back. The burn cleared his head a
bit. “I believe we need to see the sheriff over in Misery, after all.” He flipped
the shot glass upside down and clinked it on the table. “Let’s find out what he
and my missus are up to.”

“You
think he’s hiding Mrs. ’endrick?”

Bull
ran a beefy hand through his black curls, pulling them off his forehead. “If he
is, I don’t think he’ll need to worry about running for re-election.”

Thad inhaled deeply, but the uneasy
jitters in his gut didn’t leave. He had to be some kind of glutton for
punishment. Still determined, he grabbed the door knob of the Golden Lady. He
didn’t care if anyone saw him. All he wanted was the truth about Grace. It
seemed important, as if knowing what was going on with her would help him
settle things with Pa when he returned from Cheyenne. Or, maybe, he was so
afraid of what was happening to the Walkers, he needed to have one person to
believe in.

Please,
Jesus, don’t let her be here.

“Well,
bend me over and slap my cheeks.” Madge drifted out of the parlor on Thad’s
left, an expression of complete disbelief on her stoic, regal face. “A Walker
has darkened my door. Is it your birthday, Thad?”

Thad
snatched the hat off his head, unsure if that was necessary in the presence of
a woman like Madge, but he was still a gentleman. “No, ma’am, it’s nothing like
that. I’m looking for someone.”

Madge
rested a hand on her hip and ambled over to Thad, taking him in, inch by inch,
up one side down and the other. “What a shame you boys never come see me. I’d
wait on you personally.”

Thad
pursed his lips, biting back the urge to tell the woman he was in a hurry. He’d
heard she was a sucker for compliments and figured maybe the right remark could
grease the rails. “If I was of a mind, ma’am, you certainly would be my first
choice.”

The
woman seemed to float an inch off the ground, and her whole face softened. The
hand moved from her hip to her bosom. “Oh, my, and a sweet-talker, too.” She gave
him a sultry wink, but then sighed softly. “So, any chance you’re here about a
pretty gal, strawberry hair, big, green eyes? Would’ve shown up in the last
month?”

Thad’s
mouth fell open in shock, but then the reason for Madge’s apt description sunk
his spirits. “I guess that means she’s here.”

Madge
smiled slyly. “No, it means you’re the second person to come asking today, and
I’ll tell you like I told him. I haven’t hired anybody new since September.”

Thad
crushed his hat in his hands. “Somebody else is looking for her?” He couldn’t
pull the connection together. Who would come for her other than—

“You
could compare notes,” Madge suggested, motioning toward the dining. “He and his
friend are having lunch.”

Thad
hurried over to a large fern and peered through the leaves. Madge came up
beside him and pointed. “The big man, dark hair, by the window.”

Bull
Hendrick. It had to be.

Thad
could see where the man got his nickname. He had shoulders that would intimidate
a grizzly. With thick, black hair and eyebrows, and a scowl that was as much a
part of his face as his nose, he truly did remind Thad of a Brahma bull. An
angry one.

He
pulled back and dragged his hand over his mouth. Bull was here hunting for
Grace. But if Grace wasn’t here, then where the heck was she?

Greg
would know. And they had to get to Grace to warn her.

“I
heard them say they were going to see the sheriff over in Misery.”

“The
sheriff?” A memory smacked Thad. The way Greg had hid his face from the sheriff
in Cheyenne, like he was trying to avoid being spotted, maybe by any lawman. He
dropped his hat back on his head. “Much obliged, Madge.”

“Anytime,
young Walker.
Any
time.” Something about Madge reminded Thad of a cougar
watching a rabbit and he backed out of the Golden Lady.