Read Dodge the Bullet Online

Authors: Christy Hayes

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #womens fiction, #fiction adult romance, #fiction womens, #fiction love, #fiction author, #fiction general, #fiction romance, #fiction novel, #fiction drama, #fiction for women, #fiction adult, #fiction and literature, #fiction ebook, #fiction female, #fiction contemporary womens, #romantic womens fiction, #womens fiction with romantic elements

Dodge the Bullet (13 page)

Sarah studied Regina as she sat in one of
the waiting room chairs. Her slender face featured a straight nose
and wide, expressive blue eyes. If it weren’t for the overdone
makeup and her exposed roots, Regina had the makings of a beautiful
woman. If her daughter Shiloh held any resemblance to her mother,
it’s no wonder Kevin spent so much time by the river near their
property. “We’re just starting to feel settled in. It’ll take some
time to become acclimated to small town life, especially for the
boys.”

“I noticed you’re putting up fences. You
planning on setting up your place as a working ranch?” Regina took
the seat next to Sarah.

“Long term, that’s the plan. But for now
we’re leasing the land to A.J. Dodge until we get a handle on
things.” Sarah watched as Regina’s face lost a bit of color when
she mentioned the lease.

“Oh…I, I didn’t realize you knew Dodge.”
Regina stood up and moved behind the counter, putting an end to
their friendly chat.

“He’s been very helpful since we’ve been
here, and now his lease will ease our transition.” She heard an
edge in her voice, a defensive edge that she couldn’t quite hide.
She was confused by people’s reaction whenever they learned Dodge
was helping her. “Have you known Dodge long?”

Regina fussed with some papers on her desk,
answered without looking Sarah in the eye. “His family’s been in
the valley for as long as I can remember.”

Humm, an evasive answer. She knew she needed
to figure out Dodge’s history before she signed the lease. But for
some reason, the more people slammed him, the more she wanted to
defend him. She resented everyone insinuating he was trouble.
Before she could question Regina further, an intercom on her desk
buzzed and she told Sarah that Mr. Garrity would see her now.

Regina escorted Sarah to one of two offices
down a narrow hallway and closed the door behind her when she left.
Mitchell Garrity was a large man with thick silver hair and a
neatly pressed suit. His handshake was firm, his voice a booming
clamor.

“Mrs. Woodward.” He took his seat and
directed Sarah to take the visitor’s chair opposite his desk. He
rocked in the leather seat as he spoke. The squeaking provided a
beat his voice followed like a song. “I understand you have a lease
agreement you want me to look over, make a few addendums to.”

“That’s right.” She slid the file across the
desk. “It’s pretty straight forward, but I’d like a legal document
in place to keep it all above board. Paula Hamilton recommended you
highly.”

Mr. Garrity smiled like a politician, all
grin and no teeth. “Paula’s good people, Mrs. Woodward. I like
doing business with good people.” He tapped his fingers on the
unopened file and studied her face before speaking. “You need to be
sure of the people you’re doing business with, wouldn’t you
agree?”

Sarah felt her face flush and could feel her
oatmeal congeal into a sluggish brick in her stomach. What the hell
had Dodge done?

“Of course I agree, Mr. Garrity. That’s why
I’m here. There’s a survey of the property and a copy of the lease
Mr. Dodge had with his former…landlord, I guess you’d say. I’ve
written a few changes on the lease. I’d appreciate your
professional guidance and an official document before proceeding
further.”

Mr. Garrity sat forward in his seat, brought
the squeak to an unexpected halt. Without the rhythm of the chair,
the room seemed ominously quiet.

“Mrs. Woodward--”

“Please, call me Sarah.”

“Very well, Sarah. I feel obligated to warn
you about any association with A.J. Dodge. The man’s family’s as
good as gold, but he’s been gone a long time and his reputation
before he left town was…” he tilted his head back and forth, “shaky
at best.”

“Mr. Garrity, I’m not sure what Dodge did to
warrant a suspect reputation, but I’m not altogether comfortable
talking about him behind his back.” She fidgeted in her seat,
rubbed her suddenly cold hands together as if she were scrubbing
them with soap. “I’d appreciate it if you’d draw up the lease
agreement with the additions and make appropriate recommendations.
If you’re not comfortable doing so, I’m sure I can find another
attorney who will.”

Garrity sat back in his chair and gave Sarah
a patronizing smile. “There’s no need to find another attorney. I
simply wanted to be sure you knew who you are getting in to bed
with, so to speak.”

Sarah stood up and ignored his hubris. “I’ll
worry about my bed partners, thank you. Do you have any questions
that pertain to the lease or shall I assume this is a pretty
straightforward matter you’ll have wrapped up in a few days?”

“I can have it for you first thing tomorrow,
Mrs. Woodward
. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She looked him in the eye and turned to
leave without a proper goodbye. When she reached the sidewalk, she
let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t explain her anger, and didn’t
know who she was angry with--Dodge or the town for slandering him
behind his back.

###

Dodge tossed his car keys on the Formica
counter and paced through his dad’s house. He passed the den that,
thanks to his dad’s former habit, still smelled of pipe smoke. He
came to a stop in the foyer at the base of the old wooden
stairs.

“Pop? You up there?”

His dad’s truck, older than Sarah’s, sat
parked in the covered shed outside. Donnie had to be in the house
or out checking on his cows. He was known not to wear his hearing
aid when home alone.

“Why are you shouting, son?”

Donnie scooted around Dodge from the side
bathroom and walked slowly into the kitchen, placed the newspaper
on the table next to his stained coffee mug. He eased himself into
the chair and looked up at Dodge. Dodge pulled out a metal chair,
noticed the cracked vinyl cushion had been recently repaired with
duct tape, and assessed his dad for signs of fatigue. He looked
good today. His eyes were clear and he was dressed to head outside.
That meant his arthritis wasn’t so bad he couldn’t leave the
comfort of his recliner.

“You heading out?”

“Just finishing the paper. I got some
repairs to do on that old culvert near the back pond. You gonna be
here long enough to make yourself useful?”

Dodge laughed. Donnie Dodge wouldn’t accept
help from God himself if given the chance.

“You want me to help?”

“Hell no, I don’t want you to help. What are
you doing out here anyway? I heard you’ve got a new lease worked
out with the widow. Shouldn’t you be over there?”

“Well, good to know the grape vine’s still
going strong.” Dodge scanned the local paper. “How’d you know about
the lease?”

“Phone’s been ringing off the hook. Regina
Winslow told Isabelle that Mrs. Woodward’s told Mitchell Garrity to
mind his own damn business where you’re concerned. Course that’s
not the spin Regina’s put on it, but it’s the gist all the
same.”

Dodge couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact
that Sarah had stood up for him. Had she heard about what happened
all those years ago?

“What’d Garrity say to her?”

Donnie slugged the last of his coffee and
folded the newspaper into a neat rectangle, ran his hand along the
crease. “Just warned her about who she was doing business with,
same old bullshit.” He pushed his chair back, the sharp squeak
against the linoleum found Dodge doing the same. “You tell that gal
what happened?”

“No.” Dodge walked to the sink and looked
out the window to the barn and pasture beyond. The day was cool,
and the branches of the stand of spruce trees planted near the
fence swayed with the steady wind. He and his dad never talked
about what drove Dodge away and what kept him gone for so long.
“Guess I’m going to have to now, though.”

Donnie moved to the kitchen door and took
his flannel lined jacket from the hook, twisted his frail arms into
the sleeves. “You give that gal a reason to defend you, son. I’ve
never heard you defend yourself to nobody. Not right her having to
do it on her own.”

When Donnie opened the door, Dodge called
after him. “Hey, Pop. You still got an extra bed upstairs I could
stay in for awhile?”

Donnie turned to face him. “You not staying
out at her place?”

“I’ll get my hired hand to stay there, keep
an eye on things.” And when Donnie frowned, Dodge said, “I’m not
putting any more on her than I already have. It’ll be best this
way.”

“You can stay here as long as you like.” He
closed the door behind him.

Dodge turned back to the window and watched
his dad unleash his hound dog and struggle to get into the seat of
the tractor. Things around Hailey hadn’t changed much. His dad’s
body didn’t respond quite as quickly as it used to, but the motions
were still the same. When he was gone he liked to picture his
family just as they were when he left, adjusting the image every so
often when news made it his way.

He hadn’t come back for any of his sister’s
weddings or for the births of his nieces and nephews. He hadn’t
wanted to cause a stir and shift attention from the happiness
they’d all gathered to celebrate. But he’d missed them, even his
sisters, and enjoyed thinking of them safely tucked away in the
place he’d made for them in his mind. But when loneliness had
gotten to him, he’d come back to town. He thought enough time had
passed so he and his family wouldn’t have to face the shame and
humiliation he’d caused them before. But here he stood,
thirty-eight years old and still dealing with the ghost of the
past. And when he thought about Sarah and her sons, he knew he was
bringing more people into the line of fire. He scooped up his keys
and headed back outside. It was time to tell Sarah about his
past.

 

 

Chapter 12

“Who
was that?” Lyle asked.

Sarah stared quizzically at the cell phone
she’d just replaced in her purse, and worried at a hole in the red
vinyl of the diner booth. Good question. Who was Carl Coffee, why
did he think her ranch was for sale? How the hell had he gotten her
cell phone number? And why would an attorney from Denver even know
about her place to begin with?

“I’m not sure,” she said and then shook her
head and turned back to study the diner’s menu, what she’d been
doing before the phone rang. She couldn’t quite shake the weirdness
of the call. He’d even thrown out a price only marginally more than
she and Todd had paid over five years ago. With the appreciation of
land in the area and the improvements she was making, the land
would be worth a hell of a lot more than the number Mr. Coffee had
offered. Strange. She put her thoughts aside and decided not to let
it distract her from a rare meal out with her sons.

###

Tom Thornton was hungry. Good thing the
diner’s Wednesday night special was baked brisket with the spicy
southwestern red sauce that made it the place to eat in Hailey most
every night of the week. His mouth watered just thinking about the
brisket as he pulled into a spot along the diner’s back alley. He
sauntered inside, his stomach welcoming the smell of food.

Damn, the restaurant was crowded tonight. He
tipped his head at Manuel heading out to load the dumpster yet
again and stepped inside the squeaky back door. He winked at Becky
Hadley as she wrestled her way beside him in the small hallway that
led to the seating area and tried hard not to upend the tray she
carried filled with half empty plates and glasses.

“Hey, Tommy.” She lifted the tray above his
head, a testament to her upper arm strength and Tommy’s shortness.
“Your booth just became available. If you’ll give me a second, I’ll
send Manuel to clear it for you.”

“Thanks, Becky.” Tommy moved into the diner,
bustling with people both eating and catching up on the day’s
happenings.

He quickly surveyed the crowd, looked to see
who he’d talk to while his table was cleared. He spied the usuals:
Martin and Rebecca Howard, eating in companionable silence after
forty plus years of marriage; the Reeder family with their four
boys swatting each other with hands and straws, feet and napkins,
anything they could get their hands on. With four kids under seven,
Bill and Carol Anne couldn’t care less about the commotion they
caused as long as nothing got broken. Beau Franklin chatted up one
of the Barstow twins who worked the register, Tommy never could
tell one from the other, and there were an assortment of ranch
hands speaking Spanish and keeping to themselves in the corner.

He turned to look towards his booth, nestled
along the wall nearest the radio speaker. Above his favorite seat
hung a framed clipping from the 1985 Hailey Spectator proclaiming
the town’s one and only state football championship. Tommy had seen
most of his action from the sidelines, his small stature a problem
even before most of his teammates had reached their full
height.

Manuel stacked the cups and plates in an old
bus bin as gray as the sky during a winter storm and flirted with
the coal-eyed beauty sitting in the next booth. Tommy stifled a
laugh and let the smile fade from his lips as he looked at the
booth nearest his. Facing the back of the diner sat a woman he
didn’t recognize with two teenaged boys. Her brown hair and
startling green eyes framed an angular face.

As he slid into his seat, her serious eyes
found their way to his and then her attention beamed back in on the
boys who sat brooding in their seat. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on
their conversation, but there wasn’t much else going on in the
diner that would be more interesting than ogling a beautiful
woman.

###

“I talked with Mrs. Burdette today,” Sarah
said. “She’s the guidance counselor at school.” She was momentarily
distracted by the man who’d sat down in the booth facing her. She
could feel his eyes on her and had glanced over to see what he’d
found so interesting. “You haven’t exactly been honest with me
about school, Kevin.”

Other books

The Cedar Cutter by Téa Cooper
Touched by Lightning by Avet, Danica
A Reformed Rake by Jeanne Savery
A Touch Too Much by Chris Lange
Torn by C.J. Fallowfield
Soulbinder (Book 3) by Ben Cassidy
The Phantom Lover by Elizabeth Mansfield