Promise Her (9 page)

Every person Douglas spoke with had heard the story.

Lisa had to know the gossip and accusations that ebbed and flowed throughout the regulars. Yet, she was there every night in her usual seat, a smile on her face. Tomorrow she’d be in front of thousands performing in the barrel competition. His admiration kicked up a few notches. She had guts.

What if the crowd booed instead of cheered? Just thinking it left him cold.

Knowing the audience was only the audience, and knew next to nothing about what was going on, was little comfort. They cheered, stomped, whistled, and enjoyed what they’d paid good money to see, unaware of the undercurrents behind the scenes.

He pulled into his drive, parked and sat there a minute, remembering how he’d felt when he first noticed Lisa had a date. He’d been in the way, had barged in on them with the pretext he wanted to investigate her case. His eyes grew wide. Had going there tonight been a pretext to see Lisa? For some reason, he wasn’t acting like himself around her. Didn’t feel like himself.

Douglas’ gut curled into knots.

She was his little sister.

It was normal to want the best for her, just as the rest of the family did.

Once inside, Douglas kicked off his boots, pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and pressed a button.

His older brother Donovan answered on the first ring.

“I need to talk to you,” Douglas said without preamble.

“What’s wrong?” Donovan asked as concern replaced irritation.

Douglas wiped a hand over his forehead, looked at the clock. It was past one in the morning. His older brother was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy. Of course he’d think something was wrong.

“Nothing. Sorry. Didn’t realize it was so late.”

“I’m awake now. Spill it.”

“It can wait.”

“Is it about Lisa? Has something happened?”

“Tomorrow. Sorry I woke you.” Douglas hit the off button and wondered what good it would do to talk to Donovan. This was his predicament. He’d have to figure it out on his own.

But Donovan had been his sounding board all his life, had been there with sound advice whenever he wanted it. When Douglas was a kid, Donovan was the one he turned to. Donovan was the one he'd pestered for months on the pros and cons of pursuing a law degree. Donovan who insisted that Douglas follow his dream and hang the expense. They’d manage.

As it turned out, Douglas had paid most of the way himself by working two jobs while attending school.

Why did he think Donovan could help with these strange feelings?

Against his will, his way of thinking about Lisa was changing. But Douglas didn’t want change. Not in his family. He wanted everything to stay the same.

He’d treated her as another sister since the day they’d met. Had wanted that distance between them—had been comfortable thinking of her that way instead of as a desirable woman.

What was going on now wasn’t normal. He had to figure it out before he went crazy.

Chapter Seven

The next night, excitement rolled through the stadium in waves. Voices rose and fell as the denim-clad audience waited for the night’s performance.

No one was as anxious as Lisa. Her stomach felt like an army of butterflies trying to take wing. Normally, she’d be excited. Ready to fly. Not today.

She’d brought Sugarplum in a few hours early, tied her to the back of the trailer, patted her head, brushed her blond mane until it shined. “We’re going to do fine tonight. Just you wait and see. We’re going to ignore the suspicious looks, the glares—everything, and ride like the wind.”

She fought the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Earlier, she’d seen the three young women who made up Tempest’s troupe and headed toward them, wanting to talk, wanting to see if they could tell her anything they hadn’t told her the night Tempest died.

When they caught sight of her, they turned and walked away.

Did they believe the rumors and accusations? How many here did? It hurt more than Lisa wanted to admit.

She laid her head on Sugarplum’s back, fought against the desire to take her mare back to the stable and forget this. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t cry either. She had a race to win. And no one here was going to stop her.

Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself she was a good competitor. She’d never wanted to go on the rodeo circuit. If work allowed, she made a few small rodeos in the area. For the most part, she was happy doing the big one here in Houston.

Over the years, others had urged her to turn professional. “You’re that good. You could be a champion,” they’d said.

Standing straight, she took a deep breath, looked at her watch: an hour to go. Her gaze swept the area. The crowd was growing. All around her, horses and trailers vied for space with cowboys and cowgirls getting ready for their performance. Only a few smiled or even looked in her direction.

Anger mixed with anguish. How could this have happened to her? It wasn’t right.

In the distance she spotted her buds. Swiping any trace of tears from her face, she waited for them to reach her. There was no time to feel sorry for herself.

“Thought we’d find you here,” Mike said. Walking beside him with a big smile on his face was Owen. Their smiles belied the concern in their eyes.

Just seeing them picked up her spirits. But where was Douglas? Why hadn’t he sought her out? At least checked on her? Mom, Donovan and his family as well as Dugan had stopped by to wish her luck before going to their seats. Darin was probably trying to pick up a wisp of conversation, anything to help. Douglas, too. Maybe. Hoping he was at least looking out for her interests helped only a little.

Setting aside her lapse into self-pity, she grabbed them both and gave them a hug. What would she do without her rodeo family? Or the Callahans? She was fortunate to have them all.

“What are you two doing out here? Don’t you have work to do?”

“I wanted to be in there when you ride, Cowgirl,” Owen grinned.

“I don’t compete today,” Mike said. “Came to watch you.”

“You guys are the greatest.”

“C’mon, we’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

She patted Sugarplum’s back. “I don’t want to leave her.”

Mike looked around. “Nobody here but the regulars. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay. But I don’t have long.” She grabbed each by the arm and headed for the arena. “Can we make that a ginger ale? I’m nervous enough without adding caffeine.”

****

In the stands, Douglas fought the wave of nerves threatening to send him down to the arena floor. Looking around at his family, he realized that even though they hadn’t told Mom about the flood of lies surrounding Lisa, she knew—they all knew. It showed in the hard set of their lips, the glare in their eyes. A wave of appreciation washed through him. If anyone said a word about Lisa in their presence, heaven help them.

TJ and Max looked worried. Max’s frown spoke volumes. Max had his PI and best computer guru working full time on Lisa’s case. The chilling fact that they couldn’t find proof that Harold or anyone else had poisoned Tempest, left no one except Lisa in the suspect column.

Max whispered in TJ’s ear. The smile she gave her husband was full of love. Max’s returning smile reflected the same.

Douglas shivered.

He’d never known anything like what they had. Donovan sat next to TJ with his wife, Phyl and their son, Mark. Despite their concern over Lisa, happiness sparked around the trio.

Next to them were Dugan and Darin, engrossed in conversation. Douglas would bet it centered on Lisa. As a family member they wanted to help her. Since they were both lawmen, they wanted to see justice served. Neither had a wife and as far as Douglas knew, no girlfriend.

Douglas though, had several women on his phone’s speed dial. Lately, he’d had fleeting thoughts of settling down. His thoughts came back to Lisa. Why hadn’t she settled down with a husband and family? From the way she doted on TJ’s son, and the way she mothered Patty, it was obvious she’d be a great mom.

The crowd roared as the first entry in the barrel racing competition entered the arena.

His heartbeat accelerated.

But the woman on the sorrel wasn’t Lisa. For a minute he thought this woman would be a strong competitor, but soon saw she wasn’t strong enough. She kicked two barrels, losing ten points.

The audience moaned their disappointment.

Next, a youngster, not much over sixteen-year-old, thundered in on a coal black stallion that looked too big for her to handle. She did well and lost only five points. The audience applauded their approval.

Across the arena floor, he saw Lisa’s familiar palomino. Lisa sat tall in the saddle, waiting her turn.

When the barrels were placed back in position, she was given the signal and was off.

Douglas’ heartbeat picked up, his body tense as Lisa leaned forward and expertly rode Sugarplum to the first barrel. At the turn, horse and rider leaned so low he thought they were going to touch the ground. His hands gripped the seat rails as she raced like the wind to the second barrel, made the turn and raced toward the third and final barrel.

Something was wrong!

Lisa was doing her best to stop Sugarplum.

What the hell?

Douglas stood, as did the rest of the family.

Stumbling to get past feet and legs, Douglas rushed to get out and go to her. He looked back just as she tumbled from the saddle. Wait! Sugarplum hadn’t stopped and was dragging Lisa.

The crowd moaned.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Owen spur his horse toward her, saw him leap from the saddle. He’d take care of her until Douglas could get there.

Leaping down to the exit, he raced toward the arena floor.

Was this the same scene as when Tempest fell? Would Lisa meet the same fate? His heart thundered a loud no. Not Lisa.

Douglas shoved aside two cowboys who tried to stop him from going onto the arena floor; did a dodge dance with a cop just as an EMT was shutting the ambulance door.

“I’m going with her,” he yelled.

“Are you family?”

Douglas hesitated only a second. “Brother.”

The EMT waved him in.

“Lisa,” he scrambled in next to her, took in her deathly pallor, her stillness. Lisa was always on the run at the ranch, on Sugarplum, and according to TJ, at work. He took her hand, rubbed it, as if by doing so, he could rub life into her.

“Please open your eyes,” he begged. “Please, Lisa.”

He didn’t know whether her answering moan was good or bad. It was good because it meant she was alive. Bad because it signaled how badly she hurt.

“Does she have broken bones?” he asked the paramedic who was keeping a close eye on her vitals.

“Can’t tell.”

“Her horse dragged her. She could have a broken leg, or something worse. “When do we get to the hospital?”

“Soon. We’ve called ahead. Doctor Bradley has been alerted. He’s one of the best.”

“Would you tell the doctor to do a tox-screen?”

The paramedic's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why do you think it necessary? Her eyes are clear. No sign of drugs.”

Douglas didn’t know what to tell him. But he had to be sure she wasn’t drugged as Tempest had been.

He bent over Lisa, held her hand to his lips. He prayed she was all right.

Douglas’ voice came from a long way off. Lisa tried to understand, but the words were jumbled.

What happened?

She tried to think, to remember, but couldn’t. Her entire body hurt. She tried to open her eyes, but it took too much effort.

Later. She’d think later.

Douglas’ voice came to her again. She could smell his aftershave, tried to take a deep breath. She loved his smell. It brought her comfort.

She wanted to tell him something, something important. But the thought slipped away.

She drifted into soft nothingness.

****

“Will she be all right?” Douglas asked the EMT.

“Her vitals are good.”

What’s wrong with her? Why doesn’t she come out of it?”

“We don’t know yet. Might need that tox-screen after all.”

“Lisa.” He held her hand tightly. “Hang onto me, Lisa. Don’t let go.” He felt her fingers tighten on his. Or was it his imagination?

He clenched his teeth against a powerful feeling of inadequacy. She looked so pale, and he could do nothing for her. Remembering how Tempest went into convulsions before she died, he watched Lisa closely, felt her pulse. It beat strong beneath his fingers. A wave of relief washed through him at the strong heartbeat.

She wasn’t dead. Broken bones would mend. Her head?

“Does she have a concussion? Is that why she’s unconscious?”

The EMT listened again to her heart. “We don’t know yet. We’ll know more when we get her to the hospital and do an MRI.”

“How long?”

“Minutes.”

Despite the screaming siren, Douglas tried to think.

What happened? Lisa wouldn’t simply fall. She was too good. Had she been poisoned? Had someone rigged her saddle? Drugged her horse? What?

He turned on his cell phone. He had a dozen messages from the family. He called Max.

“How is Lisa? We’re all crazy with worry, especially Taralyn.”

“I’ll get to that in a minute. Where is the family?”

“Donovan took Mom to the hospital to meet the ambulance. Darin and Dugan went to see what they could find out about Lisa’s fall. It isn’t like her to take a tumble. Something or someone made it happen.”

“Right. Let me talk to TJ.”

TJ got on the phone. “Douglas, tell me Lisa is okay. Please.”

“Her heartbeat is good.” Just then Lisa’s eyes popped open. “I think she’s coming to right now. I’ll find out what I can and call you back. I want Max to do something for me and that means you’ll have to stay there alone. Can you do that?”

“I’m not an invalid, Douglas.”

She must have handed the phone back to Max because he came on the line. “What do you need?”

“Get down there with Douglas and Darin and check Sugarplum. Have the vet do a drug test on her. See if you can find out what happened.”

“Is Lisa going to be okay?”

“At this point, I don’t know anything except her eyes are open now. I’ll see what she remembers. Just check everything you can.”