The Reluctant Rancher~Badlands (Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense) (26 page)

“Tuesdays and Thursdays?
Who’s here on the other days?”

He chuckled. “Sadly, there is no one else. The
clinica is able to operate on two days only.”

This information sank in slowly. “I see. What do the people do if they happen to become ill on a Friday?”

He shrugged, his expression somber. “They either wait for Tuesday or go to the hospital emergency room.” He shrugged again. “I work in the ER most nights, so sometimes I see my patients there too.”

Cami gestured to the sparsely appointed area. “You don’t seem to have much in the way of equipment or supplies. Who funds this program, Doctor Ramirez?”

“Please call me Jose. No one in particular gives funding. Saint Mary’s Catholic Church takes up a special collection for the Clinica and the Diocese donates some funds. Occasionally, we get a donor, but mostly we scrape by.”

Cami pressed her lips together. “I’m not sure how I can help then.”

Jose raised his hands in a supplication gesture. “Oh, no! Please, Doctor. Just having you here to help out will be a great blessing to us all. It will mean more people can be seen and cared for.”

Reba let out an impatient snort. “Well, where the heck are these people going to be seen and cared for? It appears to me you only got this one room, if you can call it that.”

“Not a problem. I will simply liberate more cubicle curtains from the hospital and you will have a space to examine the patients. Perhaps you would like to take care of some of the pregnant women? That would help so much.”

“Um, yes.
That would be fine.” She glanced at Loretta. “Do you think you could free up my time for a week from Thursday?”

Loretta looked doubtful. “I’ll try my best.”

Cami nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

“And you’ll see me too
,” Reba said. “I’m not about to let you come over here by yourself, Doc.”

Jose grinned from ear to ear. “That would be awesome, Miss Reba. We will be most grateful for your assistance.”

Reba glowered at him. “Listen sonny, I’m not an assistant. I’m an RN. That stands for Registered Nurse. I’ve been taking care of folks since before you were weaned.”

Jose’s face looked as though he had just been slapped. “I meant no disrespect, Miss Reba.”

Reba huffed out a sigh, and Cami reached to take Jose’s hand. It was clasped in a warm handshake. “None taken. We’ll just be going now. We’ll see you on Thursday.”

Jose escorted them to the door
and thanked them all profusely.

Once outside, they were confronted again by the young African-American man. “So, did you ladies get taken care of?”

Cami stopped and looked the man over. “Yes, as a matter of fact we did. I’ll be a regular here, so you might as well introduce yourself.” She felt her stomach do a tumble and roll as he rounded on her.

“A regular?
What do you want with the clinic?” The muscles in his bare arms seemed to bulge.

“Relax, sonny,” Reba interjected. “We’re here to help. This is the doc and you better be glad she’s going to be donating her valuable time to this place.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he eyed them. “That’s good to know.” He extended his hand. “I’m Viper. I come to the clinic when Doctor Joe opens up to keep things quiet on the street.”

Cami swallowed. “Quiet?”

Brown eyes appraised her. “Yeah, you know. We don’t want Doctor Joe to be interrupted.” He stepped back. “There are a lot of mamas and babies in there.”

Reba nodded. “I’m sure they appreciate your presence, Viper.”

Surprisingly, Viper grinned. “Shoot! Most of ‘em don’t even know I’m here.”

Cami grinned back. “Well, I certainly appreciate your presence, Viper.” She waved goodbye and headed for her car, glad to see it was in the same condition she had left it. Loretta and Reba climbed in and she started the motor. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Oh, my!” Loretta said. “I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”

“Just get us outta here,” Reba snarled. “That was the saddest excuse for a clinic I could ever imagine. I want to take a bath in a germicidal solution.”

“Yes, it was very sad. I hope I can help them. Maybe I can bring some supplies with me on Thursday.”

Reba blew out a long sigh. “Doc, you can’t save the world. You can’t fund this clinic by yourself.”

Cami turned the Lincoln towards the highway, her brain racing with ideas.
Maybe not. But, just maybe, I can find some people with deep pockets to help me.

~*~

That afternoon, Frank pushed through the door to Sara Beth’s shop.

The clanking of the cow bell caused her to jump.
“Oh, you frightened me, Frank.”

He grinned at her. “Sure didn’t mean to. Miss Cami called to say she would be late getting home an
d she asked me to pick you up.”

Sara Beth felt her color rise. “It’s a little early yet. I usually don’t close for another hour.”

“I know.” He removed his Stetson and placed it on a small display by the door.

“Oh.” Her blush grew deeper.

“I’ll go sit over there by the computer and see if I can do some good.” He smiled at her and headed to the far side of the store where the PC was hooked up.

“I’ll just sweep up now,” she called out and reached for the big push broom. She started in the corner opposite from where Frank sat, trying not to admire his broad shoulders or his thick, dark hair. She swept faster and then sneeze
d when she stirred up the dust.

“God bless you, Sara Beth,” he said, glancing at her. “Are you all right?”

“Thank you, Frank. It’s the dust. I’m overdue for cleaning this place.” She swept closer to the front door and spied an envelope on the floor. She picked it up and saw the word ‘Jessup’ scrawled across the front. It was close to the mail slot, but bore no stamp, so she knew the postman didn’t bring it. “Well. I’ll be...”

“What’s up?” Frank asked.

“I just found this envelope, but I swear it wasn’t there earlier today.” She opened it and drew out the single sheet of paper. The words leaped out at her.

Keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.

“Oh!” She dropped it like it burned her fingers and stepped back abruptly.

Frank was by her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

Soundlessly, she pointed a shaky finger at the fallen paper. “There!”

Frank picked it up, read it
, and frowned. “Where did this come from?”

Sara Beth covered her mouth with both hands and shook her head. “I don’t know, and I don’t know what it means. What am I supposed to keep my mouth shut about?”

Frank shook his head. “Somebody thinks you know something.” He blew out a breath. “And they think they can frighten you into keeping quiet.”

She swallowed the taste of bile in the back of her throat. “Do you suppose this is about Nick?”

The grim look on Frank’s face answered her question.

~*~

E.J. had ridden Stryker out to the pasture where he had agreed to meet with George and the other men. The moon was just a wisp of a crescent overhead and Stryker kept dancing a little, impatient for some action.

E.J. took a deep breath. The air was humid and he could smell the aroma of the rich, dark earth mingled with that of the cattle. He got an inkling of what Eldon
must have loved about this place. Now, he was going to protect it. Protect what his father had built and had subsequently given over to him.
Not going to let you down, Dad.

He reflected on the letter Eldon had written and how he
’d felt when he learned how proud his father had been of him.

He was dressed in the prescribed black, and wore a black Stetson to cover his blond hair. He gazed around at George and the other men. They were alert, anticipating that their patience would prove rewarding.

George grunted and pointed out toward the main road. A large truck had slowed and was turning onto the caliche road leading to the pasture. The driver killed the lights after he turned. A pick-up turned in behind the big truck and switched off his headlights as well.

E.J. could see that the large one was a cattle hauler. It pulled forward and the driver sat
inside, idling the motor.

E.J.’s chest felt tight as the impact of what was about to happen hit him.
The nerve of these guys. How could they just pull up a truck and steal someone else’s cattle?

George and his men were silent and still as statues. It was as
if they had stopped breathing.

The pick-up driver turned off the engine and E.J. could hear the sound of doors opening and slamming shut. Men talked in low voices. Someone opened the gate and the cattle truck
backed slowly into the pasture.

Come right on in.

As soon as the driver of the cattle truck turned off the motor and stepped down, George spurred his horse. “Get ‘em!”

A bedlam of horses and riders pursued the men on foot. Most of the rustlers scrambled toward the parked vehicles, but
one took off across the field.

Gotcha’

E.J. clapped his heels against Stryker’s sides and the magnificent stallion tore into action. The sound of hoof beats gave him a sense of elation as he bent close to Stryker’s neck. The stale air freshened as horse and rider sliced through the murky night.

He
quickly overtook the running man and circled around to face him. Stryker reared and pawed the air. The man turned and ran back toward the trucks, but E.J. got control of the horse rode the man down before he could escape.

“Stop!
Wait! I give up,” the man shouted. “Here’s my gun. Don’t shoot me!”

E.J. heard the sound of something hitting the dirt.
Gun?
He hadn’t thought to be armed.
Damn! What an idiot I am.
The image of his father being proud of him was replaced by the all-too-familiar picture of Eldon ridiculing him.

He blew out a huff of air. “Raise your hands and start walking back to the gate.”

“Okay, just don’t shoot me.” The man began trudging back the way they had come.

“I’ll try not to.” E.J. dismounted and felt around with his boot for the gun the man dropped. When he hefted it, the weight of the cold metal told him it was a large caliber.
Why didn’t I bring one of these?
There was a small arsenal at the house, but it hadn’t occurred to him to arm himself. He shook his head and remounted.
Idiot!

By the time he and his prisoner had rejoined the others, there was no sign of the pick-up
. George must have called the sheriff, because the whine of distant sirens stabbed into the air.

“Good job, Boss,” George said. “The others got away in the pick-up, but I got
the license plate. The sheriff is on his way.”

“Good job,
yourself.” E.J. dismounted and gazed at the gaping rear of the cattle truck. He gave himself a mental head slap and opened the saddlebag. He hadn’t brought a weapon, but he had thought to bring a high-beam Maglite. He slipped the flashlight out of the bag and replaced it with the confiscated gun.
Let’s see what else we can see.

He turned on the torch and shone it into the empty cavern of the truck bed. Taking a few tenuous steps inside, he paused. The back of his neck tingled as a spiral of fear
snaked down his spine. He halfway expected someone to step out of the darkness and blow a hole through him. George took a step onto the truck bed behind him.
Good. Now they have two targets.

“Man, wha
t is this thing?” George asked.

“Cattle truck?”
E.J. wisecracked.

“Not like any I’ve ever seen. Shine the light back there.” He pointed to the front of the bed.

When E.J. lifted the beam to sweep the rest of the space, he almost dropped it. There was a partition running down the center of the truck bed. “That is weird.” He took a few steps forward with George right beside him.

“It looks like some sort of room,” George offered. “There’s a door. Shit! It’s got a bolt on the outside.”

George stepped forward and pulled back the bolt, throwing the door open wide. He made a sound and put his sleeve over his face. “What the hell?”

The stench of human waste and something else reached E.J. and his gut clench up in sympathy. He pressed his forearm over his nose and tried to quell his gag reflex. He kept the light aimed at the back of the enclosure, which had obviously housed human cargo. There was fecal matter in the corner and the stench of urine was overwhelming. E.J. coughed and kept his sleeve tight over his nose as he tried
to mouth breath into his shirt.

“There’s blood!” George pointed to the forward part of the bed. A wash of
brownish-red stained the wall with a series of what looked like bullet holes for punctuation.

E.J. swallowed hard. The scream of sirens drew closer and whined down to silence. He heard the sound of slamming doors and turned away from the gruesome scene. “Let’s go talk to the sheriff.”