Quinn (14 page)

He paused halfway up to study the area where the fire had been stopped.

“You realize that we were minutes away from disaster. Once the flames ignited the carpet and walls, there would have been no time left to react.”

They each gave an involuntary shudder as they moved quickly along the upper hallway. Finding no evidence of sparks or smoke, they returned to the downstairs area, walking through each room.

After a thorough examination of the entire house, they returned to the barn.

Inside, Cheyenne picked up the discarded saddle blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Quinn found another hanging over the side of a stall and wrapped himself in it before dropping down into the straw beside her.

“Think you can sleep?” he asked.

Cheyenne shook her head. “I’m too keyed up.”

“Me, too.”

So many troubling thoughts were racing through his mind.

He was glad now that he’d agreed to stay on another night. He shuddered to think what would have happened to Cheyenne if she’d been asleep upstairs alone.

A faulty furnace or water heater had been the cause of many a household fire on ranches, and with these old wooden structures the outcome was often tragic.

From his quick examination, it certainly looked like the furnace was to blame.

And then he remembered something else Austin had said.

I need to worry about you… I heard that Deke Vance was seen nearby.

Quinn had a lot of questions to ask Cheyenne about the mysterious, and possibly dangerous, Deke Vance. But for now, with the trauma of the fire so fresh, he would bide his time and give her a chance to calm her jangled nerves.

Come morning, he vowed, they would report all of this to Chief Everett Fletcher in the little town of Paintbrush and let the lawman handle it from there.

C
heyenne awoke with a start and realized that she’d been dozing. Seeing Quinn standing over her had her going very still.

“What are you doing?”

He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “Watching you sleep.”

His words, and the way he said them, caused a tingling sensation along her spine.

She sat up, feeling suddenly warm and vulnerable at the thought of being watched while she slept. “I hope I wasn’t humming.”

That had him throwing back his head with a laugh. “You only hum when you eat.”

He dropped to his knees in the straw and faced her. “I’m glad you caught some rest. It gave me some time to think. I think you should phone Chief Fletcher over in Paintbrush and ask him to send someone out to investigate this fire.”

She wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees and studied him. “Why? What have you found?”

“You saw the same things that I saw in the house. Both the furnace and water heater are in shambles. Either one could have caused the fire. But the insurance company will insist on an investigator’s report before they’ll pay for any damage.”

He handed her his cell phone.

Minutes later she handed it back, after reporting the fire to the police chief and assuring him that it had been brought under control.

“He’s on his way.”

“That’s good.”

“Why do I get the idea that there’s more than what you’re saying?”

He shrugged. “Let’s talk about Deke Vance.”

When she arched a brow he explained. “At our first”—he shot her a rogue smile—“encounter in the barn, you suggested that I’d been sent by Deke. Last night, Austin said he was worried about you being here alone because he’d heard that Deke Vance was seen nearby.”

She nodded. “Deke was Buddy’s childhood pal. The two had been inseparable since they were both kids. Deke’s father owns a small ranch just outside of Paintbrush, and he used to work for my father to earn extra income. Whenever he worked here, he would bring Deke along, and Deke and Buddy would spend their days working and fooling around in the barn. My family really liked Deke, and he often spent weeks here, while his father was up in the hills with the other wranglers. Deke ate with us, slept in Buddy’s room, and was just like one of the family.”

“Was.” Quinn paused. “What happened to change things?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Shortly after coming here, Austin told Buddy and my father that he’d seen Deke helping himself to money from a drawer in the kitchen where we always kept our household accounts. Deke denied it, and Austin went out in the utility room and carried in Deke’s parka. Sure enough, there were two one-hundred-dollar bills in the pocket. When Dad counted the money in the drawer, he discovered it was two hundred dollars short.”

“What did Deke have to say about it?”

“At first he was speechless. Then he denied having ever done it. My dad tried to smooth things over. He told Deke that he understood that times were hard now that his dad’s debts were mounting and they were struggling to hold on to the ranch. We’d heard that Deke’s mother took a job at the Watering Hole in Paintbrush. When Deke continued to deny that he’d done anything wrong, Dad told him to take the two hundred and pay him back whenever he could.” Her voice lowered with emotion. “I still can’t believe how calmly my dad reacted to such an ugly scene. But the more reasonable Dad became, the angrier Deke got. He insisted that he would never steal from us. That we were his second family. He grabbed Buddy by both shoulders and started shaking him, demanding that he believe him.” She sighed. “Buddy told him to take his hands off him. That’s when Austin stepped in and shoved Deke against the wall so hard he hit his head and fell down. Deke said some really ugly things to Austin until my dad stepped between them and ordered Deke from the house.” She shook her head. “That’s the last time I saw
him, except at Buddy’s funeral. He stood at the back of the church, but when it looked as though he might come forward to speak to Dad and me, Austin made it plain that he wouldn’t be welcome. He left without a word. When Dad died, I thought I saw Deke at the cemetery, but when I looked again, he was gone.”

“And now he’s been spotted hanging around.”

“And for that you want me to report him to the sheriff? Quinn, Deacon Vance lives in the area. Our herds share a common rangeland. He has a right to hang out wherever he pleases.”

Quinn nodded. “I agree. But it just makes sense to take precautions. If he’s been spotted nearby, it ought to be in the chief’s report.”

“All right. But I just don’t believe that Deke would hurt me.”

“I hope you’re right about that.”

At the sound of a truck’s engine they got to their feet and walked from the barn to find Micah pulling up beside the house. Behind him, a second truck slowly made its way along a winding dirt trail.

“What in hell happened here?” Micah climbed down from the truck and leaned heavily on his cane while staring in disbelief at the destruction.

“A fire.” Cheyenne hurried up to the old man and gave him a fierce hug, which he returned. “Quinn said it could have been caused by the furnace or the hot-water heater.”

“You okay?” Micah released her and held her a little away to give her a long, steady look.

“I’m fine, thanks to Quinn. He was the one who woke and smelled the fire.”

The old man turned to study Quinn. “How come you’re still here?”

Cheyenne answered for him. “The mustang out in the barn kicked me so hard I dislocated my shoulder and—”

“Wait just a minute.” Micah held up a hand just as Austin and a lean, lanky cowboy exited the second truck and walked up to join them.

When the cowboy shot Cheyenne a puzzled look she said, “Quinn, this is Wes Mason, my ranch foreman. Wes, this is Quinn Conway.”

The foreman extended his hand. “As in the Conways from across the hills?”

“That’s right.” Quinn studied the silver-haired cowboy, whose loose-limbed walk and leathery skin were a trademark of every cowboy he’d ever known. With a smile he accepted his handshake.

“I’ve met your daddy and granddaddy through the years. Good men, both of ’em.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t agree more.”

“Which son are you?”

“The oldest.”

Micah interrupted. “Cheyenne was just telling me that she dislocated her shoulder.”

“The mustang,” she explained. “I’ve never had any trouble with him before, so I wasn’t expecting him to go crazy. I stepped into his stall, and the next thing I knew I was lying in the corner and barely conscious.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “My shoulder was dislocated.” Seeing the sharp looks from the two men, she added quickly, “Don’t worry. It’s good as new now. Again, thanks to Quinn.”

“And this?” Wes pointed to the charred section of house that lay exposed.

“The fire started during the night.” Cheyenne turned to Austin. “Shortly after you left.”

Both Micah and Wes turned to Austin, who looked absolutely thunderstruck. “I wish now I’d have followed my hunch and stayed on at the bunkhouse. It’s like I’ve been telling you. I don’t trust Deke Vance.”

Cheyenne gave a quick shake of her head. “Quinn said it could have been caused by the furnace or the water heater, since they’re both really damaged. Anyway, at Quinn’s insistence, I phoned Chief Fletcher in Paintbrush.”

The foreman shot Quinn a piercing look. “So you agree with Austin? You think there was more here than a simple fire?”

Quinn shrugged. “I didn’t say that. But I’m sure the insurance company will want an investigator to make a report before they agree to pay for the damage.”

Wes nodded. “Makes sense to me. How bad’s the damage?”

“Bad enough that it’s going to take some time to put it all back together.”

“Come on.” Cheyenne led the way. “You may as well take a look for yourselves.”

They moved through what was left of the utility room, then on to the kitchen, and then up the stairs. Except for a few muttered curses, the men were silent as they assessed the damage.

By the time they’d made a complete tour of the house, the police chief was driving up in his four-wheel-drive truck.

Everett Fletcher had been the football star of Paintbrush High School. At nearly six feet of pure muscle, he’d gone on to play college football until an injury ended his chances of going pro. After a career with the state police, he’d returned to his hometown, where for the past years he was content to deal with drunks and petty criminals. He knew everyone in town, and most of the outlying ranchers, by name. They knew Everett to be fair and honest. A good man, they would say. Competent and patient.

Chief Fletcher ambled over, his cell phone in one hand, his clipboard in the other.

“Cheyenne.” He could see her lingering pallor. “You’ve been through some tough times lately. Sorry about this latest one.”

“Thanks, Chief.” She accepted his handshake. “You know Micah and Wes and Austin. And this is—”

“Quinn Conway.” Everett pumped Quinn’s hand before Cheyenne could finish the introduction. “I’ve known him and his family since we were kids.” He grinned at Quinn. “What brings you to this side of the mountain?”

“Just passing through,” Quinn said with a smile.

With the formalities over, the police chief got down to business. “Cheyenne, I’d like to walk through the house with you, and you can tell me as much as you know about this fire.”

She drew in a deep breath before leading him back into the charred building.

An hour later Cheyenne and Everett emerged from the house and into the frigid air, where they paused, breathing deeply.

Cheyenne saw Quinn talking quietly with Micah and
Wes. The looks on the faces of her cook and foreman were as grim as the feelings swirling around in her mind.

With each tour of the destruction, she seemed to sink deeper into the realization of just how close she’d come to disaster.

“I’ve got enough pictures for now.” The chief dropped his cell phone into his shirt pocket and carefully inserted a series of signed documents into a file folder before tossing it on the seat of his truck. “I’m sure the insurance company will want to do their own inspection. But I have enough information for now.”

He shook hands all around before giving Cheyenne’s shoulder a squeeze. “You stay safe now.”