Authors: Cat Johnson
Midnight Wrangler (2 page)
Chapter Two
Bonnie Martin plucked the weeds from between the flowers she'd planted on either side of the front door. The wide brim of her straw hat shaded her face, but the Phoenix sun beat on the exposed skin of her arms.
Swiping the beads of perspiration off her brow with the back of one hand, she couldn't help but think maybe she should just let the weeds take over. They seemed to thrive in the Arizona heat, while the flowers and humans both struggled.
“Bonnie! Where are you?”
With a groan, she straightened up and stood, brushing her hands together. “I'm out front.”
Her mother came to the glass front door. The older woman had Bonnie's same coloringâfair complexion that roasted in the sun, pale blond hair, and blue eyes, though her mother's hair had turned gray now, and she stayed inside the A/C most days. They probably should be living up north, yet here they were in the 120-degree heat. Of course, this being Arizona, it was a dry kind of heat . . . or so the natives liked to tell people.
Stepping out of the air-conditioned house to stand on the stoop, her mother let the storm door slam shut behind her. “I just got a phone call.”
That didn't seem like cause for an announcement. “Okay.”
“It was from Colleen.” Her mother said it as if that name should mean something.
Bonnie's brow furrowed. “Colleen?”
“Colleen and Andrew. Our old neighbors from Oklahoma.” Her mother's mention of Oklahoma caused the usual tightness in Bonnie's chest, even twenty-five years after they'd left there.
Some memories never faded. The memory of the two men she'd left in Oklahomaâthe one she loved and the one she loathedâhadn't.
Bonnie swallowed away the dryness in her throat. She climbed the two stairs and reached past her mother for the doorknob. “I need a drink of water.”
Her mother followed her through to the kitchen in the back of the modest two-bedroom house. “Bonnie, Colleen said your father's in the hospital. He's dying. He doesn't have longâdays maybe, if even that much. He asked her to call. He wants to see you.”
Yanking open the door of the fridge, Bonnie reached for a bottle of water. She twisted off the cap and took a sip, surprised she could swallow given how tight her throat felt. She let the cold wetness slide down her parched throat before she could even begin to address her mother's shocking revelation regarding the man she'd long ago put out of her life.
“My father has been dead to me since the summer I turned eighteen.” Bonnie realized she was grinding her back teeth and consciously forced herself to relax the tight clench of her jaw.
One mention of that man, of that time in her life, and it all came flooding back. The heartache. The pain. The hell that no teenager should ever have to suffer at all, never mind at the hands of a father.
And it had all been over one careless mistake. A moment of stupidity that had altered lives forever. Bonnie had lived with the weight of that knowledge on her shoulders for so long she barely remembered a time before the guilt and the shame had settled inside her and become her constant companions.
“Of course you don't have to go see him, but do you want to just call and talk to Colleenâ”
“No.” Bonnie spun to face her mother. “You go if you feel you have to. I don't. I don't owe that man anything.”
“He didn't ask for me. He asked for you.” Her mother laid a hand on her arm. “Bonnie, I think he wants to apologize.”
“The time for that has long passed.” She put the cap back on the bottle. “I've got to finish weeding.”
Her heart pounding with emotion she'd kept buried for over two decades, Bonnie headed for the front door. The summer heat outside would be welcome given the icy chill the memories had sent down her spine.
There was no way she could step foot in Oklahoma. Not as long as that man still lived and breathed.
There was another reason for her not wanting to go back to that town ever again. The boy whose heart she'd broken, the boy who'd made it impossible for her to ever love again.
Sweet Rohn. He'd probably moved by now. To another town, if not a different state. Then again, not much changed in Bonnie's hometown. People were born, lived, and died there. Generation after generation.
He'd probably married long ago. Not that it mattered. He could never be hers again.
Still, the curiosity pricked at her. The weeds and the heat did little to distract her from wondering, was Rohn still there in the town where she'd left him?
Did she dare look?
And if she found him there, then what?
Before she could stop herself, Bonnie had gone inside, sequestered herself away in the A/C of her bedroom, and had the laptop open. She opened a new browser window and found herself entering his name into the search field.
It popped up, multiple results on the first page, every one indicating he was still there.
She didn't want to know more. Didn't want to see pictures of him, or a wife, or even children. Selfish, yes, but self-preservation had become her priority long ago. Bonnie clicked the window closed and opened a new one. She was already down the rabbit hole. She might as well go farther.
Bonnie typed in her father's name and the address of the house she'd grown up in. The listing came up but nothing else. Nothing personal.
She didn't know what she'd thought she'd find. Something to redeem him perhaps. Some community service award. Anything. He always had kept to himself, so she supposed she shouldn't be surprised.
Sighing, she closed that page, too, then flipped the lid completely closed on the laptop. Nothing good would be found by pawing through the past.
The house phone rang as Bonnie was standing up from the desk chair. She ignored it, knowing her mother would answer. It would be one of her mother's friends anyway. It almost always was.
Besides, Bonnie needed to shower. Working out in the heat had made her hot and sticky. Not to mention dusty.
She'd just grabbed a fresh T-shirt and shorts to put on after her shower when she turned to find her mother standing in the doorway, the phone in her hand.
“Bonnie.”
“What's wrong?” It didn't take more than a look at her mother's face to know that something was.
“It's your father.”
“I told you. I'm not goingâ”
“He's passed on.”
Bonnie's mouth opened, but it took her a few seconds to gather herself enough to speak. “Oh.”
Apparently, the prognosis that her father would last a few days had turned out to be less than accurate. No surprise.
The man always had been obstinate and spiteful. She wouldn't put it past him to have held on longer just to show the doctors they were wrong. But in the end, the throat cancer won out and God help her, Bonnie felt relief at the news.
The relief she felt was followed quickly by guilt. He had been her father, even if he'd been a bad one. And any death, even that of a man she'd hated for years, was cause for sorrow.
“I'm sorry, Mom.” In spite of it all, her mother had loved the man once.
Her mother nodded, swallowing hard before she drew in a deep breath.
“Uh, so I'm going to shower.” Bonnie moved toward the doorway, and finally, her surprised-looking mother moved out of the way to let her pass through.
Bonnie couldn't escape the situation that easily or for very long.
Her mother spent the following hour on the phone making calls to Oklahoma. Making final arrangements, Bonnie supposed.
She didn't know much about that since her mother had also handled things when her grandmother had passed. Of course, everything had happened right there in Phoenix where her grandmother and they lived. The service, the burial. Bonnie hadn't considered how difficult, how complicated, things could get from a distance.
Again, Bonnie felt the guilt, this time for letting her mother bear the burden of the planning.
So she stayed with her mom, bringing her iced tea as she took notes and made calls. Making dinner and setting the table for them while the phone calls continued.
From what she gathered, her father would be cremated and the ashes would be buried in the family plot in Oklahoma.
Her mother put down the receiver just as Bonnie was bringing the salad bowls to the table. “So, apparently he had a will.”
Bonnie cocked one brow at her mother's comment. “That could be the only smart thing the man ever did.”
Her mother's exhale showed she was being patient with Bonnie. Even after all the shit he'd put them both through, the woman still refused to talk trash about him. Now he was dead, so of course, she wouldn't start.
Finally, Bonnie gave in when she saw her mother was waiting for her to listen. “Okay, so what about this will?”
“That last call was the executor of the estate. He'd like you to come to Oklahoma.”
“Me? Why?”
“I'm guessing because you're the heir named in the will.”
“He left the farm to me and not you?” Bonnie shook her head, confused. “Why?”
“We were divorced. I'm no longer his wife and haven't been for a very long time. But you'll always be his daughter. And he loved you.” The calm understanding in her tone as her mother reasoned it out angered Bonnie.
“No, he didn't.” Bonnie's control broke. “How can you not hate him for what he did?”
“Hate does no one any good. He's gone. Don't waste your energy on bad feelings any longer.”
“I've got plenty of energy for that.” Anger fueled her until her pulse raced fast and furious.
“Hate will poison you, Bonnie.”
“Save the sermons for church, Mother.” Bonnie was lashing out at her mother when it was really her father she was angry at.
Apparently, the woman was a saint. She'd forgiven her ex-husband and she seemed to ignore Bonnie's insults now.
Wearing an expression of indulgence, one of a mother humoring her child, the older woman drew in a breath. “What should I tell the lawyer? I have to call him back.”
“Tell him to do whatever he wants with the house. Sell it. Burn it. I don't care.” The vision of her childhood home going up in flames caused a kaleidoscope of emotions within her. There had been some good memories made there once upon a time. Sadly, the bad memories would always overshadow the good for Bonnie.
Her mind spun with alternatives. Could she hire a handyman to clean out the place and then contract with a real estate agent to sell it? Could all that be accomplished without her ever setting foot back in Oklahoma?
“Neither the farm nor the house is the lawyer's responsibility, Bonnie. It's yours now. Like it or not, you need to handle it.” Gone was the indulgent, understanding mother. In her place was a firm, no-nonsense woman.
Bonnie couldn't deny that she spoke the truth. This mess was hers now. Her father's final blow from the grave.
“All right. Tell the lawyer I'll be there by the end of the week.” It would cost a fortune to book a flight on such short notice and she wasn't going to drop that kind of money on a trip she didn't want to make in the first place. She'd have to drive.
What was that old saying? All roads lead back home. That's where she'd be going, at least for long enough to put some demons to rest. She'd do that as soon as her car could get her there.
Maybe all those hours in the car with nothing to do but remember the past were her penance for what had happened that summer twenty-five years ago.
Hours and hours, alone, reliving her mistakes, her heartbreak, and memories of her first love.
Her sweet Rohn.
June 1990
Bonnie evaluated her reflection in the mirror above the dresser of the bedroom.
Her senior prom was something she'd dreamed about for all four years of high school. The one thing she'd never imagined over all those years of ripping pictures of dresses and hairstyles out of magazines was that she'd be attending alone.
That was fine. She'd have fun anyway, all on her own. There were a few girls, and guys, too, from her class who were going solo. Okay, maybe not many, but at last three, counting her.
Bonnie sighed. She really was a loser. She couldn't even get somebody to ask her to prom. She probably should have sucked it up and asked someone herself, but the one guy she really liked, the one she would have wanted to attend with if she lived in a perfect world, didn't even know she existed.
Of course, Rohn Lerner wouldn't have said yes to her anyway, even if she had somehow gotten up the nerve to ask him.
From behind the door of her locker, she'd watched him walk the halls with the other guys on the football team, but he'd never noticed her. She'd spot his dark head above the other boys of the class, his broad chest and shoulders making them all look puny. Bonnie would sometimes stare at him, trying to catch his sky-blue gaze, but his eyes never met hers.
It was as if she were invisible.
She'd heard that Rohn was taking a cheerleader to the prom.
Of course. Why wouldn't he? He was the football team star. Lena Duncan was the head cheerleader. She was tall and shapely with dark brown hair and deep green eyes. It was a match made in heaven. With Lena standing next to Rohn in the photos, they'd be perfect together.
Bonnie was a head shorter than Lena and in comparison, felt as if she was built like a boy. Her mother always said she was going to have an athletic build, but Bonnie didn't want to be athletic. She wanted to be beautiful and sexy and everything Lena was and she wasn't.
Though she had to admit that tonight, all dressed up, she looked pretty. Maybe almost beautiful . . . if she didn't stand too close to Lena.
At least if Bonnie was attending prom alone, she'd look good doing it. The dress had cost all of her babysitting money, but it was worth it. Everyone else was wearing the supposed hot color of the 1990 prom seasonâblue. Everywhere there were yards of shiny taffeta in all shades of the color, ranging from dark blue to ice blue.
Bonnie had decided to break the mold. She'd found a dress she loved in a beautiful buttercup yellow chiffon. The hue might not be the height of fashion according to the magazines, but it made her blue eyes stand out. At least that's what the salesgirl had said at the store. Of course, the woman might just say that to all the girls trying on dresses for their prom.
Staring at the mirror now, Bonnie thought the color also complemented her blond hair, which she'd done up herself in a French braid. The bottom of the braid she'd secured with a matching yellow scrunchie she was lucky enough to find at the accessory store. And of course, she had shoes dyed to match the dress.
It had all been a lot of work, and money, but looking at her reflection, she knew the end result was worth it.
She picked up from the dresser the corsage she'd ordered for herself, and brought it to her nose. She breathed in the scent of the fragrant yellow freesia that surrounded the single white rose. The yellow blooms were interspersed with stems of both light and dark blue flowers. Delphinium. That's what the florist had said the pretty flowers were called.
That was her only concession to the blue fashion trend, and only because the contrast of the blue and the yellow really did look beautiful surrounding the tight white rosebud in the center.
She slipped the elastic band over her left hand and felt the weight of the flowers. It was probably a good thing she didn't have a date. Any dancing might have the corsage flying off her wrist.
Leaning a bit closer to the mirror, Bonnie checked her makeup. She had put just a bit of blue eyeliner along the inner rim of her lower eyelid and had put some blue eye shadow in the outside corners of her upper lids. Her pink blush had just a tinge of shimmer to add some sparkle to her face. A bit of mascara and pink lipstick completed her look.
That was it then. She was dressed and as ready as she was going to get. She turned to find her mother standing in the doorway, smiling. “You look absolutely beautiful, sweetie.”
Bonnie smoothed the skirt of the dress with one palm. “You really think so?”
“Yes. You're going to be the prettiest girl there.”
She doubted that. That honor would no doubt belong to Marie Jorgensen, who'd already been voted prom queen by the senior class. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yup.” Bonnie grabbed her purse, also yellow to match the dress, and turned toward the door.
“I want to take a picture before we leave.”
“Okay.”
“Go and show your father how nice you look while I grab my camera. He's in the dining room reading the newspaper.”
“Okay. Then we have to leave. I don't want to be late.” Not that it mattered, she guessed. It wasn't as if anyone was waiting for her.
“You won't be late. Don't worry.” She shot Bonnie a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.
Bonnie continued down the hallway to the dining room. She found her father sitting at the table reading, the ever-present cup he used to spit his chewing tobacco into set near his elbow.
She stood in the doorway and smoothed the chiffon of her long skirt. “Hey, Dad. I'm leaving for the prom.”
He glanced at her over the top of the paper and drew his brows down in a frown. “How much did that thing you're wearing cost me?”
Her mouth fell open, about to protest that she'd paid for it herself, when her mother came into the room. “Bonnie saved up her money from her babysitting jobs and bought it herself.”
Her father scowled. “Waste of money, if you ask me. When will she ever wear something like that again?”
“It doesn't matter. It's the prom.” Bonnie's mother laid a hand on her shoulder. “Doesn't she look nice?”
He looked her over, from the top of her head all the way down to her kitten-heeled shoes and back up again. “She's wearing too much makeup. It makes her look like a streetwalker.”
With that he raised the paper, and Bonnie was very happy to be dismissed. She hadn't expected much from her father. She should be happy she'd gotten away with just that little bit of criticism and not more.
“Come on, Mom. Let's go.”
“I want to take your picture first.”
“Can we please take it outside? Okay?”
“That's a good idea, sweetie. Then I won't need to use the flash. Stand by the tree next to the driveway. That might be a pretty shot.”
How could her mother not see that Bonnie couldn't get away from this house fast enough?
Bonnie nodded and moved in a daze to the front door. She only had to endure two quick pictures, then they could leave.
“I'm just dropping Bonnie off at the school, then I'll be home and we can eat.”
“Don't drag your feet getting home. I'm hungry.” The sound of her father's voice followed them out the front door. It grated on Bonnie's already jagged nerves as she felt her shoulders tighten.
She forced a smile long enough for her mother to snap her pictures. Then, thankfully, her mom was happy and Bonnie was allowed to get into the car, where she slumped in the passenger seat.
Surrounded by the pouf of the dress she'd loved above all else, right up until the moment her father had deflated her happiness bubble, Bonnie watched the scenery pass by.
Every mile took her farther from home, even if it was just for a little while. That was good enough for her.
Blue and white helium balloons tied to the fence at the entrance had Bonnie's heart quickening. It was going to be a great night, even if she didn't have a date. And unlike her father, she didn't care how much the dress had cost. It made her feel beautiful and that made it worth more than all the money in the world.
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