Love You to Death (18 page)

He was handsome in that rustic good ol’ boy
way. Not to mention kind and thoughtful...I gave my head a little
shake. No sense in going down that road.

Didn’t I have enough on my plate? Did I think
I needed more? I cursed at myself.

Get a grip. You aren’t staying long enough
to get roped in by this cowboy.

Gideon must’ve sensed my stare because he
looked over at me. I quickly looked away, embarrassed at being
caught.

“C’mon,” he said, “I think the boys are down
at the office. Cort moved the kittens, and Stewie was worried
they’d be scared. I’m bettin’ he’s still there.”

I followed him across the yard and down a
stone path that led to another barn. It was much smaller than the
hospital, but inside was richly decorated with leather furniture
and bronze sculptures of cowboys and horses. More importantly there
was a computer on the desk.

Gideon rounded the desk, pulling open a
drawer to shove a few papers into one of the folders. I scanned the
room, noticing one wall that was a showcase of medals and
trophies.

“What are they?” I asked, pointing.

“This is a breeding farm, but we also have
show horses. Those are some of our winnings.” His chest puffed a
little with pride.

I nodded, slightly impressed. Scanning the
other walls I saw another wall filled with framed photos. I gave
them a quick once over, not wanting to appear nosey. There were a
lot of pictures of the same couple, a tall, long legged man with
his arm around a petite woman. In one, they were both laughing with
their heads thrown back. Another picture had them on each side of a
horse with a wreath of flowers around its neck.

I saw a strong resemblance to Gideon in both
of them. They had to be his parents. They looked so happy. I
glanced at Gideon. He was bent over the keyboard of the computer. I
wanted to ask him what happened to them. Where were his
parents?

“Cherry!” Stewie poked his head out of a door
in the hall. “The kittens got moved. That mean cat was trying to
hurt them. I’m making sure they’re alright.”

“He means Esmerelda,” Gideon laughed. “She’s
a fire breathin’ cat from Hades. She hates everything and everyone,
so if you see her walk the other way.”

“She’s very bad.” Stewie bobbed his head
emphatically.

I smothered a smile. He was so cute when he
was serious. I walked back down the hall. The room was empty except
for the six kittens, their litter box, and some toys.

“This is Lynyrd and this is Skynyrd,” he
said, holding two gray tabbies. I could only assume Cort named
them.

“They’re cute.” I took one from him. I didn’t
know if it was Lynyrd or Skynyrd, but it nestled itself into my arm
and closed its eyes.

“It’s nap time,” Stewie said gravely,
reaching for the sleepy kitten.

“I have a few other horses to take care of.”
Gideon came up behind me, startling me, making me jump. He gave me
that cool speculative look he was so good at, but didn’t say
anything.

“Okay. Uh, I guess I’ll head back to the
house.” Which I really didn’t want to do. I’d been inside way too
much lately.

“You can go wherever you want to, stay here
with Stewie if that’s what you feel like doin’. This isn’t a
prison. You don’t have to check in with me. I just don’t want you
over doin’ it again.”

“Oh, okay.”

He left me alone with Stewie and the kittens.
Even though I hadn’t planned it, this worked in my favor. I hustled
over to the computer and gave the mouse a shake. The screen popped
to life. I pulled up the internet and typed ‘The Baltimore
Sun’.

I wanted to see if there was anything in the
paper about us or the incident at the lab. I quickly scanned the
titles and stories, finding nothing on the day it all happened. I
went forward two days before I saw anything. My stomach dropped to
my feet.

There on the front page, midway to the
bottom, was my wedding picture. The caption read, ‘Detective’s New
Bride, Arden Bateman, Missing.’ The story went on to say that Cass
had come home to find the house ransacked, signs of struggle, and
me gone. He gave a brief description of Stewie as a person of
interest and insinuated it was a kidnapping.

This was unbelievable. Implicating Stewie as
a kidnapper was ridiculous. I continued reading, getting more
steamed as I did. Stewie was not armed and dangerous. Cass was
really reaching here, but I guess the more serious it is, the more
people would pay attention.

Great. We were fugitives. I knew he’d be
looking for us, but I never thought he’d go this far, or this
public. I wondered if the local papers or TV stations here would be
carrying the story.

I did a few more searches to find out they
weren’t. Thank God! Stupid Cass. Well, smart actually, but still
stupid in my opinion. This farm was probably the best place for us
to hide and lay low for a while. Guess I was going to have to milk
the injury.

At least it couldn’t get any worse.

Chapter
Eighteen

It
could
, and it
did.

The shoulder didn’t get better, but it didn’t
get worse. I was still wearing the sling. It continued to throb
depending on what I tried to do. Sometimes it felt like a conjoined
twin, sharing the same heart, who was constantly running a
marathon.

Once a day Gideon would make me take it off
to maneuver the arm and work the muscles. That’s when I took my
Percocet. I made sure I never took more than one Percocet a day.
Tylenol was a very good friend of mine, though. In the days after
my online investigation I racked my brain trying to come up with
our next move.

I managed to get online at least every few
days to keep myself updated on my missing person’s case. Not much
was being written. After three weeks it went from front page to a
small paragraph on page six to nothing at all.

Cass probably thought we were in the city and
whoever was hiding us would give us up, but since we weren’t in the
city he was getting zip, zilch, nada. I could only imagine how
crazy this was making him. There was no doubt in my mind how
furious he was.

Sissy had her hands full, and I was recruited
to be her assistant until my arm was good enough to do physical
tasks. It seemed that everything on this farm was organized,
improvised, or outright supervised by her. She was like a
whirlwind. No wonder she was so spry for her age. She never seemed
to stop or slow down. After our shopping incident she let up on me
somewhat.

Today she had me following her around with a
clipboard and a pen while she instructed me to take notes on
various to do’s around the house and the barns.

I learned the farm had a name too. They
called it the Northern Star. I asked Sissy why they named it
that.

“Because this farm gives our family
direction, it guides us through life, gives us purpose.” Then she
squawked at me for asking silly questions.

The Northern Star was a very busy place.
Aside from JD and Maggie, they had at least twenty people tending
to just as many tasks. From sun up to sun down the farm was a
buzzing beehive of activity. I had no idea horses were so much
work.

But that wasn’t what made my life miserable
from time to time.

Maggie was turning out to be a real thorn in
my side. She constantly threw me looks that could kill. She was
slightly more cordial to Stewie in the fact that she simply ignored
him.

Just the other day she caught me in the
stables visiting Sampson. I’d taken an apple from the kitchen for
him. I held the apple in the palm of my hand and waited for him to
take it. When he did, I patted his neck and whispered in his
ear.

“Is that how you handle Gideon, too? Do you
give him a little somethin’ sweet and whisper in his ear?”

I whirled around, embarrassed at being
caught. Maggie was mucking out a stall. The glacial look she aimed
at me sent a shiver down my back. I wasn’t one to back down from a
fight, but I’d had enough of physical confrontations to last me the
rest of my life.

“I didn’t know you were in here,” I said,
turning back to Sampson. I hoped she’d take the hint and leave me
alone.

I heard her feet crunch over the fresh straw
she had just laid down. The clang of metal on concrete made me look
up. Maggie stood there with one hand on her hip and the other hand
gripping her pitchfork. I gave her my own cool look and what I
hoped was a very definite instruction to take a hike.

She didn’t. Instead, she looked me up and
down, smirking.

“I don’t have the faintest idea what he sees
in you.” She shook her head as if this truly stumped her. “How long
are you gonna string him along? That bum arm of yours won’t hurt
forever. When Dr. Do Right doesn’t have to take care of you he’ll
get tired of you pretty quick.”

Maybe it was the tone of her voice or the way
she sneered when she said it, but whatever it was it hit my temper
button. I stepped away from Sampson, took the two steps needed to
stand in front of her, and said, “Guess it took less time for him
to get tired of you.”

Like the flip of a switch, the ice of her
blue eyes gave way to molten heat. She let go of the pitchfork, and
it clattered on the floor.

“I’ll toss your sorry butt on this floor
faster than you could bat your beady little eyes, city girl.” Her
southern-laced voice rising with each word.

“Don’t let anything but good sense stop you
from trying.” I gave her my best Clint Eastwood scowl while I
positioned myself for defense. We were pretty evenly matched in my
opinion, size wise, but I didn’t know if she was any good at
backing up what she was saying. If she was a fighter, I was in deep
trouble, especially with my arm in a sling.

“I’m gonna rip that black hair of yours right
out!” she screeched, but didn’t make a move.

“Look, Cowgirl Barbie, I don’t know what the
heck your beef is, but you need to get over it. I’m here until I
leave and not a minute before. I don’t have any designs on Gideon
so you can quit with your snarky comments and juvenile behavior. No
one’s interested in your bad girl routine.” I was breathing hard
when I finished my speech. Maggie was shaking in her boots, but it
wasn’t with fear.

She let out a banshee wail to rival any I’d
ever heard and drew her arm back, hand fisted. I tensed, waiting to
block the swing. Turns out I didn’t have to. Cort came up from
behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and lifted her off
her feet. Maggie kicked her feet and flailed her arms, but she was
no match for Cort, who just laughed at her attempt.

“Calm down, Magpie.” He gave her a quick
shake. “Lord, woman, you got a set of lungs on you. I heard you all
the way out in the tack house.”

“Put me down, Cort!” she ordered, clawing at
his grip.

“Not a chance. Not until you calm down.”

“Mind your own business, Cort!” she yelled,
wiggling in his locked embrace.

“Anything happening on this farm
is
my
business.” He gave her a quick hard squeeze. “Now just calm down,”
he said quietly in her ear.

She stopped fighting him, taking a few deep
breathes. I was amazed. Cort was like the horse whisperer of loud,
obnoxious, girls.

“I’m gonna let ya go... you promise to
behave?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“I can’t hear your head shake.” He
chuckled.

“You can see it, you idiot,” she yelled. Cort
gave her another quick hard squeeze. “Yes, I’ll behave. Put me
down.”

Cort winked at me then let go of Maggie. Her
feet hit the ground hard. She glared at me and stomped out of the
stable. I watched her walk away, knowing this was nowhere near
over.

“Thanks,” I said, looking at Cort who was
intently staring at Maggie’s butt. So that was the way of it. He
liked her, and she liked Gideon. My heart went out to Cort. He must
have a few screws loose to want to tangle with that girl, but I
guess you can’t help who you love.

“She’s not good with change.” He flicked his
gleaming eyes my way. “She’s a little high strung and well... she’s
just who she is: a full keg of dynamite.”

“Yeah, well, that keg almost punched me,” I
said sourly, walking toward the house.

“You must have set her off pretty good.”

“Me!” I stopped and turned, glaring.

“Don’t make me wrangle you too.” He laughed,
play punching me on my good shoulder. “I only meant Maggie isn’t
used to people standing up to her. It’s a good thing. She needs to
be challenged. Her parents spoil her. Most people tend to let her
have her way. She just needs a firm hand to rein her in every now
and then.”

“Great. Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil. Next
time she comes at me I’ll try to remember that.”

Cort barked out a laugh, slung his arm around
my shoulders, and walked me back to the house.

That was two days ago. I’d managed to steer
clear of Maggie since then, but I knew my luck wouldn’t last
forever.

“You payin’ attention to me, girl?”

I snapped to at the sound of Sissy’s voice.
“Yes, I heard you. I wrote down what you said: call Mr. Tippery
about the catering for the charity-party-thingy.”

“Hmph. Charity-party-thingy... It’s the
fundraiser event of the year, a Shepherd tradition. Have some
respect when you say it. The Northern Star Gala isn’t a party
thingy.” She tromped ahead of me. I was glad because I could roll
my eyes without her noticing.

I was exhausted by lunch. Sissy told me to
get inside and whip up some food like I was able to wave a magic
wand and ‘poof’, lunch was served. I did what I was told
though.

I chucked the clipboard onto the counter and
raided the fridge. There was plenty of stuff to make sandwiches, so
I did. I sliced tomatoes and rinsed lettuce. There was potato salad
I’d made yesterday. I got it out and set everything up buffet style
on the island.