Read Wind Over Marshdale Online
Authors: Tracy Krauss
****
Con shut the barn door and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. Good thing they'd gotten all the hay in before the snow fell. Not that they kept many cattle anyway, but the few they did have along with the horses, kept a man working year round. He strode toward the corral fence, where Ivor was fixing a small break in the rails.
“Need a hand or you almost finished here?” Con asked his older brother.
“Just a few more minutes,” Ivor said. “But thanks. You might as well get cleaned up.”
Con nodded. He was headed into town for the annual Halloween night patrol. He volunteered for the patrol every year. It helped keep the streets safe and reduced vandalism. “Are you going on patrol this year?” he asked.
“Naw.” Ivor shook his head. “Betty and I just want to stay home for a change. The kids are taking Lisa trick-or-treating, though. Not that she needs more candy.”
“So Bonita has earned back her car privileges?” Con asked.
“Yup. How much trouble can she get into with a five-year-old in tow?” Ivor laughed.
“I guess.” Con frowned.
“Unless there's something I should know about,” Ivor responded, surveying his younger brother closely. “She been getting into more trouble behind our backs?”
“No, no. That's not it. I was just thinking of something else, that's all.” Con brushed it off with a wave of his hand.
“You're sure?”
“Sure I'm sure. You and Betty stay home and enjoy a nice quiet evening to yourselves for a change. Besides, I'll be in town to keep an eye on things if need be.”
The truth was, he'd been thinking of Rachel Bosworth. He wondered if he'd run into her tonight while on patrol. Not that she'd probably be out and about, but he could hope. That school teacher had really gotten under his skin. He could hardly stop thinking about her, although he'd been avoiding her for about a month now. He had determined to leave it in God's hands, and he was. But he was getting tired of waiting for the answer.
****
The school-wide Halloween carnival was well under way in the gymnasium. A combination of carnival games, too much sugar, and the anticipation of the evenings trick-or-treating, had her charges bouncing off the walls. Rachel was dressed as a gypsy, with a swinging skirt, bandana and large hoop earrings and was presently in line with some students at the fish pond. One of the senior students was crouched behind a makeshift screen and attached prizes to the fishing pole that was swung over the top. Billy Chang was manning the “pond,” taking tickets and helping the kids to swing the pole.
“Are you going out this evening?' Rachel asked Billy conversationally.
“No,” Billy shook his head.
“Of course not,” she chided herself. “You're probably too old for that sort of thing.”
“Actually, my family doesn't really celebrate Halloween.”
“Oh?”
“No. My parents don't feel it honors God,” Billy explained.
“I see,” Rachel nodded. Actually, she didn't see. What was wrong with kids having a little fun? She really didn't get this God thing. “But it's okay for you to participate here?”
“Well, actually that was my choice,” Billy admitted, almost sheepishly. “Since it's my last year of school and everything. I am almost eighteen,” he added, as if that qualified everything.
Bonita McKinley, dressed as a black cat, approached.
“Hi, Bonita,” Billy greeted with an animated smile.
“Hi,” she responded, hardly noticing.
“I thought maybe you forgot about your shift,” he said with a slight laugh.
“You're spelling Billy off?” Rachel asked.
“Hmm,” she barely acknowledged as she took her place on a little wooden chair beside the screen. “So what do I do?”
Billy explained the finer points of making sure the fishing line got over the screen without snagging anything else. “Then Matt'll clip a prize onto the line like this and you help them take if off the clip once they reel it in.”
Two little girls wearing princess outfits were next in line. “Is it my turn now?” Princess One asked.
“Yes it is,” Rachel responded. The first princess “cast” and Bonita made sure the line made it over the screen without getting tangled. After the princess got her prize, her friend went next.
“I got pretend makeup!” Princess Two said.
“I got a hackie,” Princess One countered. They showed each other their treasures and went skipping off.
Bonita sighed heavily and looked at her watch. “How much longer?”
“It's over at two-thirty, I think,” Rachel answered. “The elementary grades are going back to their classrooms for a bit while you seniors get to clean up. Or so I've been told.”
Bonita sighed again. “That's another half an hour.”
“Um, I could probably handle it if you want,” Billy offered. “It hasn't been that busy.”
A spark of life seemed to flicker across the girl's face. “Really?”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Great!” It didn't take her long to vacate the booth and head toward the exit.
“You need to be back for cleanup,” Rachel called after her. She wasn't sure if Bonita had heard or not, or if she was purposely ignoring the instruction. She turned to make a comment to Billy and noticed he was still staring after Bonita's retreating figure. “That was awfully nice of you,” she noted. “You've been here all afternoon.”
Billy tore his eyes off Bonita and shrugged, looking embarrassed. “It's nothing.”
Rachel surveyed the young man. It was obvious he had a crush on Bonita McKinley. Well, obvious to everyone
except
the girl in question. She, apparently, couldn't give him the time of day.
“How's your day going?” Grace asked, coming up beside Rachel. She was dressed as a clown.
“Okay. Another twenty minutes, and then I'm rounding up my strays and heading back to the classroom,” Rachel replied. The last thing they needed was more sugar, but she'd baked a pumpkin-shaped cake for the occasion and hoped that and some juice would keep them occupied until it was time to go home.
“You're a sucker for punishment,” Grace laughed. “I'm letting my kids run it off outside before home time. I need my strength for later.”
“You're handing out candy?” Rachel asked.
“Are you kidding?” Grace scoffed. “Carl and I are shutting off the lights and hiding under the covers.”
“Oh.” Rachel turned her eyes away, not quite sure how else to respond. She knew her friend and Carl Binder, the rather eccentric science teacher, had started dating, but she didn't really want all the details.
“Yeah, you know what they say about those âbrainiac' types.” Grace raised an eyebrow as she elbowed the air. “Amazing, if you get my driftâ”
“Definitely too much information,” Rachel quipped. Even when she'd been in a relationship, she never shared that kind of personal information. It made her uncomfortable and she wished Grace would stop.
Finally, the last goblin was gone, the cake crumbs cleaned up, and Rachel could leave the school. She wasn't sure if kids would come to her door or not, seeing as she was in the basement, but she'd bought a few treats anyway, just in case.
She was trudging down the street, still wearing her gypsy outfit, when a vehicle pulled up beside her.
“Need a lift?” It was Con McKinley. The nerve after all this time.
“No, thanks. Mrs. Beatry's is just around the corner, as you well know.” Her voice sounded prim and proper and she hated it, but it was no more than he deserved. She started walking again, and the truck crawled along beside her.
“I get the feeling you're mad at me,” Con said, leaning toward the open window.
“Oh? Whatever for? Should I be mad at you about something?”
“Yeah, you should,” he said. “If I were you, I'd be mad at me. If you'd get in the truck, I could apologize.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Why should I?” she asked, pouting. She could already feel her resolve softening. He was so darn cute and right now he looked genuinely penitent.
“Cause I'm asking you. Please?”
“Only for a few minutes. Just long enough to apologize,” she agreed. She stomped toward the passenger door which he had already opened from the inside. After hauling herself up onto the seat and clicking her seatbelt in place, she folded her arms across her chest. “Okay. You can start apologizing now.”
Con let out a burst of laughter, a sound that had her melting inside at an even more rapid rate. “You're cute when you're angry,” he said.
“Argh!” she punched his arm but couldn't help the twitching at the corners of her mouth.
He sobered and kept on driving. “I have no legitimate excuses for giving you the brush off other than I was scared.”
“So, you admit you were giving me the brush off,” Rachel noted. “Thanks. I feel so much better now!”
“Only because I was scared. Of caring too much,” he admitted and glanced her way.
That took the wind right out of her sails. She had no reply.
“Forgive me?” he asked.
“I'm still thinking about it.” Of course she forgave him, but he didn't need to know it yet.
“I thought about calling you lots of times. Every day, in fact. But there was this little obstacle about our beliefs and how they're different, and well, I decided to leave it in God's hands. I figured if He wanted us to be together He'd make it happen.”
“Oh. So He's given you an answer, then?” she asked.
“I'm not sure exactly, but maybe. I was driving down the street and there you were, so I stopped and asked you if you'd go for a ride and you did. So⦠He didn't stop me.”
“That seems twisted.” Rachel shook her head and allowed a slight smile to spread across her features. “The chances of you and me running into one another in Marshdale are quite high. You know that.”
“True, but the chances of you accepting a ride decreases the odds, just like the chances of you going out for dinner with me right now also decreases the odds.” He grinned over at her.
“Did you just ask me out to dinner?” Rachel asked. She started to laugh outright.
“Yes, I think I did,” Con joined with a chuckle of his own.
“Alright, I'll go out for dinner, but I'm not going out looking like this.” She gestured at her outfit.
“You look nice,” he said. “Besides, it is Halloween. Everyone else is dressed up.”
“And what about you? If I'm going to go out in public like this, don't you think you should be in costume, too?”
“Got it covered,” Con quipped, reaching into his jacket pocket. For the first time she noticed he was wearing a rawhide jacket and he pulled out a Sheriff's badge. “I've already got the hat, so I should be set.”
“You came prepared,” she noted with a smile.
“I try.”
“So where are we going?”
“It'll have to be Sonny's. I'm on patrol tonight and can't go anywhere too far.”
“You mean people I know are actually going to see me in this get-up?” Rachel frowned in dismay.
“Don't sweat it,” Con dismissed. “You look hot. Besides, I'll protect ya, little lady.” He said the last part with a fake Southern drawl and Rachel giggled.
“Well, Sheriff. I guess this is your lucky day,” Rachel replied, batting her eyelashes.
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Sonny's restaurant was the next stop. The little bell chimed overhead as Con opened the door for Rachel. They found a side booth and slid into their seats as Suzie Chang approached.
“Hi, Miss Bosworth, Mr. McKinley,” Suzie said in greeting as she brought them well-worn menus and utensils bundled in a paper napkin. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water is fine for me,” Rachel replied. Con agreed.
Suzie left them to their menus as she went to fetch the water.
“Try their combination plate. It's always good,” Con suggested.
“I'm not very hungry,” Rachel admitted. “Too much party food this afternoon, I'm afraid. Maybe just soup or a salad.”
Suzie soon returned with their drinks and took their orders.
“So,” Con began, looking around. “Not exactly the most elegant atmosphere for a date.”
“Is that what this is?” Rachel asked, sipping her water.
“Might as well be,” Con replied. “Everyone in here will think so.”
“Hmm⦔ Rachel mused, surveying the room. “But we're in disguise, so no one will know it's us.”
Con laughed. “Right. Do you care?”
“About what?”
“About the fact that people might gossip.”
“Do you?” she asked. Their eyes locked for a minute. It was like they had picked up right where they'd left off. Same intensity of emotion, same sexual tension, same promise of more to come. It was like the last monthâincluding that disastrous business with Thomasâhad never happened. “I mean, it's not like we're doing anything illegal,” she added, looking down at her water as she stirred the ice around with the straw.
“Exactly,” Con laughed. “Besides, I'm thinking that I wouldn't mind being the object of a little speculation if it includes you.”
There is was again. The intensity in his eyes. The tension. “You are being awfully forward, Sheriff,” Rachel teased, putting on airs in an effort to remain light. “Especially in a public place.”
“Maybe your gypsy ways are making it hard for this cowboy to think straight,” Con countered. He reached across the table and touched Rachel's hand. “Even in a public place.”
The contact was electric, his eyes like brands of fire. Rachel tucked her hand under the table. She had no words. They were caught in her throat, which was suddenly parched. She took a quick sip of her water.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I've got to watch myself. Maybe this whole Halloween thing has me under a spell, or something. Let's see⦠what would be a safer topic of conversation? Work? The kids haven't driven you around the bend yet?”
“Debatable, but I still appear to be in one piece,” Rachel replied. “I'm tired of school. I don't want to talk about it. Tell me more about this patrol thing you're doing.
“It's just a way to reduce vandalism. Kids can still have their fun, but any would-be vandals know that somebody is out there watching. You should join me,” he suggested, his expression hopeful. “I could use the company and the extra set of eyes.”
“I should probably be at home handing out candy. I mean, it's expected, right?” She frowned and looked at Con.
“Mrs. Beatry'll be handing it out upstairs, and I doubt you'll get many takers in the basement anyway. Especially with the lights off.”
“But won't that make people mad? Invite vandals?” Rachel asked.
“Not when I'm on patrol.”
“Oh right,” she agreed. “Well, it looks like I'm in, then.”
“Yes!” He pumped his fist as if he'd just scored. “Decreased my odds again.”
“What â¦?” Rachel stared at him in confusion.
“Decreased the odds that tonight is a simple case of chance. So far I'm three for three. And since three is the number of divinity, I'd say it's a God thing.” He winked, grinning like a school boy.