Riders - Horizons (III) (5 page)

I took the few steps to my bike and heard
the sound of footsteps behind me.

I just knew it was him. I held my
breath.

I turned and stiffened at the sight of him
walking toward me out of the shadow. The whole of my composure
started to disappear, fast.

Please don't talk to me... please don't... I
can't bear it...

I swung my leg over my bike and fumbled for
my key in my pocket, desperate to escape.

He arrived at my side.

“I'm really sorry,” he
said.

“You're sorry?” Tears
gathered in my eyes and my chest heaved with hurt and confusion.
“Don't play games with me. Don't even SPEAK to me. How dare
you?”

“I need to say it. So you
understand. I really am very sorry.” He brushed a fingertip over my
hand and I snatched my hand away like he'd burned me..

The dam broke and I couldn't stop the
deluge.

The sobs were so strong, I was almost
hysterical in seconds.

“Have you...any
idea...how... you made me feel...?” I choked out the words, wiping
the tears away frantically with my fingers.

“Like shit I guess. And
I've felt like shit too.”

“Oh have you, REALLY? And
why? I don't understand. Is this what you do to all girls. Is this
what you did to Christie?”

“I don't have any feelings
for Christie. Not like I have for you. I know you won't believe me.
And I don't expect you to forgive me. I'm just telling you... I'm
sorry,” his voice cracked and it made me cry all the
more.

I got off my bike and stood facing him.

I didn't care if I looked a state, if my
mascara was everywhere and if my face and eyes were screwed up with
crying. I wanted him to see it. This was what he'd done. I let him
have it full blast.

“I don't forgive you...
No... Ever since you met me, you took me over... I tried to fight
you, because I didn't want a guy who played around and who'd screw
me up... Just when I started to like and respect you and opened
myself up to you... you killed me. You stabbed me in the heart. And
why?
Why
?”

He bowed his head and chewed his lip
repeatedly. He put his hands together, almost like he was praying
for help. He was struggling. Facing me wasn't easy. I knew that. I
hope he hurt. I hope he stung with guilt and it ripped him apart.
Like he'd ripped me apart.

His eyes were glassy as he looked at me. He
was having severe problems containing himself.

“Someone told me you were
using me for who I was.”

“Using you?... Like
how?”

“You know my family owns
almost everything round here. My pa is worth millions. I'm his son.
Go figure.”

I gasped and choked out a huge sob. But
despite the slap in the face I'd just received, I stood up straight
and took a step toward him, right in his space.

“You really think that of
me. You really do?” I poked him in the chest. “You think that I was
only interested in your...
goddamn...
fucking... money
?” I prodded him again
pointedly in between the words.

He didn't answer for a moment. He just stood
and stared.

Then he spoke, quietly.

“I admit I did, but
standing before you right now, I don't feel that way
anymore.”

“Oh God... but you
did
?” I was so choked I
could hardly breathe. “And hang on...who told you this?”

“Mickey.”

“And you believed him?
What the hell does he know about me? Nothing... nothing at all.”
All my good feelings toward Mickey vanished in a puff of smoke. The
complete bastard, grassing me up over nothing. Because I wouldn't
trick for him or because I stood up to him a little? I did know
he'd hinted at this after I'd left him in from the alleyway that
time, after he'd discovered the two of us together. That's how and
when he'd come to that conclusion.

“Things you'd done and
said ate away at me. I overreacted. I didn't want to but I began to
believe him.”

I turned in silence, shaking all over and
got on my bike, getting out my key with a light head. I felt sick
to my stomach. For several good reasons.

“Tiffany please don't
go.”

“I've got to. I can't even
look at you. How could you? How could you believe Mickey over me?
How could you not speak to me about it at all? How could you
condemn me as a cheap money grabbing whore without a word.
Don't ever speak to me again, Joshua
Lyle.
”

I started up the engine, walk reversed it in
a dreadful state, hardly able to see, and rode off in a mad
screeching of tires down the street.

I cried all the way home. God knows how I
even got there.

How could he think for a second I was like
that? What had I ever said or ever suggested to raise this
doubt?

I didn't know and wished he hadn't told me
this. Now I hated him even more. I wanted to slap his handsome face
for all eternity and screw his balls in my fist, so painfully hard
he could never walk again.

I parked up outside, and flew in the door in
distress. I fell into my surprised Mom's arms, thankful she was
still up this late. I needed her so bad. I sobbed into her shoulder
like a crazy lunatic.

“Tiffany... sweetheart,
what's on earth's the matter?”

What the hell could I say? She deserved some
kind of explanation. I didn't want to worry her too much. I tried
to say something... and the single word “Josh...” came out...

I didn't notice she had company until he
spoke.

“Ummm, Miranda, I'd better
go.”

“No, it's fine. I'll just
take Tiffany to her room. Calm her down, okay? Please don't
go.”

I raised my tear soaked face, from her wet
shoulder and through blurred eyes saw Col standing awkwardly behind
us. I liked Col, despite his close association with Joshua. He was
good guy, I could tell. Mom had told me about his past and she
liked him. A whole damn lot. I didn't want to spoil anything
budding between them.

I pulled myself together, my sobs calming to
a gentle shake of my body and pushed away from my mom.

“It's okay... You guys
chill... I can go to bed on my own.”

“No, I'm taking you to
your room.”

She led me up the stairs and stood me
against my door.

“What happened with Josh,
sweetheart?” she asked in a kind voice, her face full of
concern.

“We spoke about something
that was very upsetting.”

“Look, I don't know what's
going on with you two. But I know he hasn't been around... is it
over?”

I really needed to tell her, and to tell her
everything. But not now. I was mentally exhausted.

“Oh mom. It's too late to
talk it out. I'll tell you tomorrow. Go back to Col, okay? I'm
fine. I just need to sleep. I'm sure I'm overwrought with tiredness
mainly.”

“You sure you're alright?”
She kissed me on the forehead.

“I'll live. It was just a
bad conversation, that's all.” I tried to raise a smile, but
failed.

“Okay, but I want to know
all about it.”

I wasn't sure I could say the words out
loud. I could barely even think them

“Yeah, night Mom. Love
you.” I opened the door and went in, undressing and slipping in
between the sheets.

I cried silently into the pillow as I'd done
on several occasions this week.

I wasn't one hundred percent sure, because I
hadn't the money to buy a test, but all the signs were there.
Absence of monthly event, subtle body changes, tenderness, a
constant funny taste in my mouth.

It had only taken that once; that one stupid
heated mistake.

Now I was pregnant.

And very much alone.

JOSHUA

She was so distressed I couldn't abandon
her. I wasn't sure she was safe to ride a bike at all, but I didn't
expect she'd listen to me if I tried to reason with her. So I
followed her home, at a discreet distance. Thankfully she arrived
without having a serious accident. I stopped at the end of her
street and waited for her to go inside. Col's bike was there.

I was guessing that at least one of the
females in the Johnson household was happy tonight.

I sat for a while, having a smoke and
thinking what to do.

I wasn't giving up on her. We were good
together. I wanted her in my life more than any other girl I'd met.
I had to find the right words. The right time to say them. And the
right place.

...Sweetheart, you're
my girl, I'm sorry about all that shit, let's give it another
go
...wouldn't cut it. It had to be
profoundly deeper than that. Somewhere I hadn't been
before.

I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out
on the floor beneath my boot. Turning my bike, I set off for home.
I'd had a tiring day, out on the ranch all day. It wasn't until I
got home that I remembered about Mickey. I wondered if the Sheriff
had searched his place yet.

As I walked across the yard to the
bunkhouse, I picked out my cell and discovered a missed call from
him. I pressed return call.

“
Hello, Olson County
Sherriff's Department.”

“
Hello Sheriff, It's
Joshua Lyle, returning your call.”

“Yes, hello, we searched
Mickey Green's place of residence...”

I waited with some excitement as the Sheriff
explained that they had found a box of rounds. They matched those
extracted from the dead cattle and also matched the model of gun
that was used. But, there was no gun found on his property. In
addition, Mickey had slipped out the door immediately they arrived
and had driven off somewhere.

I was so goddamn fucked off about that. “Why
couldn't you have cuffed him? Now he knows he's a suspect. He
probably keeps the gun in the car and right now he's disposing of
it or hiding it somewhere,” I complained.

“We had no authority to
arrest or detain, unless we had the weapon in our charge. We would
have gone on to search his vehicle as well. But we are entitled to
inquire further into his purchases. We know he bought a Smith and
Wesson M & P. That avenue may yield some results in getting our
hands on the gun itself. We can get a court order and demand he
produces it.” The Sheriff explained testily.

Despite his assurances, my heart sank. It
was unlikely they'd find anything. He could say he lost it or sold
it.

I expressed my thanks for their help, for
what it was worth, and shoved my cell away.

“Fuck the fucker...” God,
I was so angry. I stalked off, walking round the back of the main
house in the dark. I needed to cool off some before I hit my bed
for the night.

I smoked another two cigarettes, before I'd
got my thoughts back in order. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. We
couldn't prove anything against him, but at least we all knew the
lie of the land. Maybe that would be enough to stop him repeating
the crime? He knew we'd look at him first, if it happened again.
Okay, so he wouldn't be punished for what he did, but hopefully
that would be the end of it.

It was well after 1 a.m. when I finally went
inside. I said, “hey, night owl,” to Pete as I passed him in the
common room where he was making himself some coffee.

“Want some?”

“Not for me, I really need
to sleep. Coffee ain't gonna help.”

I walked down the corridor and entered my
bedroom to gather my stuff for a shower.

But before I could do that a loud noise
erupted outside.

A car horn blared so long and loudly it
would have woken the dead.

I dropped what I'd been doing and made my
way outside with a few of the other guys who were still awake.

There was Mickey's car, the bright red
paintwork shining like a beacon under the yard security lights.

“That's enough
already,
” I shouted at him.

The horn stopped and my ears rang. Pete
stood at my side as we watched Mickey get out of his old Chevy and
walk toward us. My father left the main building, wrapped in his
robe, with Rob in close pursuit, and we all converged on our
unwanted and uninvited guest.

He was soon surrounded by six of us.

“What you doing here,
Green?” my father asked him angrily. He rubbed his red and bleary
eyes. He'd obviously been fast asleep.

“Came to see you Lyle.
It's about time we cleared the air.”

“I have nothing to say to
you and no air to clear.”

“I think you owe me an
apology. In front of these good people.”

“An apology? Now why on
earth would I apologize to you?”

“You robbed my good family
of their money and forced them outta town. You undervalued the bar
to punish me for the past. You're a real piece Charlie Lyle? Proud
of yourself, are ya? You've just about ruined me. Poor Annie,
having to live with a cold hearted bastard like you.”

“Um, Mickey, you'd better
shut up...” I interrupted angrily, disgusted he was bringing my
dead mother into it... But my father held his hand up silencing
me.

“No Josh, let me answer
that.”

“I'm a businessman, which
means I've got where I am today by making wise decisions about
money. If you weren't happy with my offer, you could have turned it
down. No one had a gun on you, forcing you to deal with
me.”