Love on the Horizon (A Northern Woods Novel) (22 page)

“We’re getting me new clothes,
Daddy! I’m gonna be a grown up next week!”

Nick raised his eyebrows at
Mariah.

“I told him he was growing up so
fast and already starting school next week,” Mariah said, and laughed softly.

“Oh,” Nick chuckled. “He has the
words a bit confused.”

“I didn’t want to hurt his
feelings by correcting him,” she whispered.

“Well, you pick out some real
nice clothes, cowboy. You’ll have all the girls following you home.”

“Daddy! I’m not gonna play with
girls!” He wrinkled his nose. “They’re sissies!”

“Oh, you’ll change your mind one
day, sport.” Nick kissed the tip of Mariah’s nose and lightly touched her
cheek. “We should be home by dusk, honey. Art and I have rescue horses to check
on, and we hope to cover an area of fifty acres of land on horseback. We need
to inspect the fencing for any needed repairs before winter approaches.”

Art was ready to go. He tipped
his hat to Mariah when Nick climbed into his saddle.

Nicky turned his head to look out
the back window.

“So long cowboy!” Nick and Art
both waved before they turned their horses to the north and headed across the
pasture, toward the building where their rescue team was located.

* * *

They came to the stretch on the
northeast corner of their land, when they noticed a police car approach from
the south. It raised a cloud of dust as it barreled along the dirt road toward
Carl and Natalie’s property.

Nick and Art stopped and watched.
A short distance from the Larson’s, they were able to observe everything quite
clearly.

“I wonder if they found Natalie,”
Nick said.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing.”
They watched while an officer knocked on the front door.

“Carl’s truck is there, but it
looks like he’s not in much of a rush to open up.”

There were two police officers.
One of them walked around to the side door, climbed the three steps leading to
a large porch, and knocked. The other officer rounded the corner from the front
and stood on guard.

“Here comes another police car.”
Nick motioned his head toward the turnoff from the county road. He pulled his
handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his face and neck.
“You ready for lunch? We may as well eat right here.”

“Yeah, the horses need a break
anyhow.” They climbed down. The horses roamed around the pond while the men sat
on a gentle slope, facing the activity a half-block away.

When the second police car pulled
into the yard, two more officers climbed out. One of them stood near the front
entry and the other stood at the gate leading to the backyard.

“What the hell is goin’ on,” Art
muttered.

Nick glanced over at the horses;
they grazed in the grassy area. When he looked back at the roadway, yet another
car pulled up with two additional officers. They climbed out, walked over to
the area close to the side entry and stood in the gravel, a few feet from the
house, their weapons drawn. The officer who stood at the side door stepped back
a couple of feet and raised his gun, held it with both hands, then lifted his
heavy boot and kicked the door in. Guns still drawn, the four officers bolted
through the open doorway.

“A while back, Mariah told me she
and Sarah suspected that he was abusing Natalie. Maybe the police finally found
some evidence. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. You can bet there’ll be
something about it on the news.” Nick paused to take a swig of his Pepsi when
they saw the officers coming out of the house with Carl in handcuffs.

“He looks drunker ‘n a skunk and
it’s not even noon yet.”

Nick shook his head. “Who knows,
but we’d better be on our way.”

They stood, gathered their
containers and walked over to where the horses were grazing. They climbed into
their saddles and headed back on the trail.

* * *

The following day Mariah phoned
Sarah and told her all about Nick and Art’s firsthand news update. “Have you
seen the morning report?”

“No, why? Have they found
Natalie?”

“They have Carl in jail. Nick and
Art watched while they removed him from his home in handcuffs. Nick said he was
so intoxicated they practically had to carry him out. That was when Nick and
Art moved on. I was watching the news this morning. They reported that one of
the officers had a police dog with him and searched the house. They found
nothing but junk piled in every room: stacks of empty booze bottles, dirty
dishes, you name it. Another officer arrived with a bloodhound. When the K-9
led them into the backyard, it dug a hole at the south end of the house.”

“Oh no, Mariah, please don’t tell
me the dog found Nattie.”

“No, no, it wasn’t Nattie, thank
God, but Carl had buried all of her clothing. They found everything of hers –
even her underwear. They said they’d keep him at the jail for more questioning.
He’s now the prime suspect of her disappearance.”

“Her disappearance? Does that
mean she might still be alive?”

“I doubt it, although they may
have evidence that he’d forced her car over the cliff. The front of his truck
has damage to the grill and bumper that looks to be fairly recent.”

“What do
you
think,
Mariah? Do you believe she’s dead?”

“It’s beginning to look that way.
Watch the news this evening. Right now, my students are beginning to arrive for
their riding lessons. I’ll talk to you later.”

Mariah closed her phone. She
shook her head, swallowed one last sip of her coffee, and pushed her chair from
the table. She grabbed her leather vest and cowgirl hat then called out, “I’m
off to my class, Bess! See you in a couple of hours.”

That evening, shortly after the
children were sound asleep, Nick and Mariah relaxed in the living room. Mariah
curled up on the couch in front of the television while Nick sat in his
recliner, reading the sports section of the Huntington Tribune. When they heard
the mention of Carl Larson, they both looked at the newscaster. Nick reached
over to turn up the volume. “…He was released today when the police hadn’t
found enough evidence between Mr. Larson and the disappearance of his wife,
twenty-eight-year-old Natalie Larson. The police informed him that he was not
to leave town, in case they need him for further questioning. We’ll keep you
updated when we hear more.”

Nick glanced at Mariah. “One of
the ranchers told me today that he heard their house was going to be condemned.
I guess he’ll have to leave soon. Who knows where he’d go,” Nick added. He
folded his paper and stood from his chair. Mariah remained on the sofa, her
legs pulled up under her robe, lost in thought. “Mariah? Did you hear me?” He
gently touched her shoulder.

“What?”

He helped her up and gave her a
hug. “You’re worried about Nattie, aren’t you?”

She nodded, picked up the remote
and turned the television off.

“Let’s turn in, honey. Tomorrow
will be here before you know it.” He turned out the lights and led her to their
bedroom.

Nick had just fallen into a deep
sleep when the telephone began to ring. He imagined he was dreaming, until he
realized Mariah was shaking his shoulder lightly. He looked at the clock and
saw that it was two fifteen a.m. He sat up quickly to grab the phone and swiped
his other hand across his face. He cleared his throat and mumbled into the
receiver.

“Hello?”

“Nick, it’s Art.”

He raised his head in alert.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Mariah sat up at the edge of the
bed and listened quietly. A frown on her face showed her deep concern.

“Ah shit,” he said, and ran his
hand through his hair. “I’ll meet you at the stable in ten minutes.”

“I’ll round up as many men as I
can, while I’m waiting. A big storm is brewing. Let’s hope I’ll be able to
reach all of them.”

“What happened?” Mariah asked
when he hung up the phone. She reached for her robe. “Is Art all right?”

“He’s fine, but he heard a
commotion outside when he woke up to use the bathroom. He looked out the window
and saw a bunch of horses running in fear and heading into the pasture.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, and slid
her feet into her slippers, tied the belt on her robe and quickly followed him
down the hallway and out to the kitchen.

Chapter
Thirty-five

The lightning ripped across the
sky and the ranch hands worked furiously to guide all the horses back to the
stable. Lucky helped to herd them south, to the location from which they came.

“Good boy, Lucky!” Nick shouted
above the howling gust. That dog certainly loved his job, day or night, thought
Nick. He watched Lucky move quickly in the direction of a palomino that looked
lost and distraught in the fierce wind, and blowing debris making it difficult
to see. He was located about two hundred yards away, and beginning to rear in
fright as the lightning cracked across the dark and threatening sky. When he
saw Lucky coming toward him, his ears laid back, accompanied by his strongly
swishing tail. Lucky circled around and came up behind him. The palomino
stomped his feet, turned, and began to run south in direction of the stable.

Nick turned and followed Lucky
while he herded the final horse back home. After he checked to make sure Lucky
had entered the barn, he closed the double doors, dropped the heavy latch with
a loud thunk, and headed to the office where a few of the men had gathered, and
held mugs of fresh coffee.

“This was some night. Thanks for
coming out, guys. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” He
breathed an exasperated sigh. “All we have to do now is figure out who broke
the lock on the stable door and opened every stall.” That entrance was the only
location they were unable to see from either of the houses.

“Don’t know,” Art said, as he
scratched the back of his head. “Who was the one to close up last night?”

“I was,” Nick said. “I did my
normal rounds about seven p.m. and everything was fine.” He looked around
wearily from one face to another. Every one of them held an expression of anger
and frustration.

Art lifted his head and faced
Nick. “Had Carl been released from jail yet?”

“They said on the news last night
that they had to let him go. They didn’t have enough evidence to hold him any
longer. Why do you ask?”

“Maybe it was him. Just a
thought; he’s a strange man. I’ve never seen him sober since they moved into
the Miller’s place. I think he killed Natalie. Why else would he bury her
clothes?”

“I doubt he broke into the
stable, but who knows,” Nick answered and looked at his watch. “It’s already
five a.m. If you men need to head home for a couple hours of sleep, go ahead.
The police will arrive soon. I told them there was no need to rush; no damage
done, other than the door lock; all horses accounted for. I also called
McGregor Locksmith to come and make the repair. They should be here in a few
hours. I’m going to have another mug of coffee and check on the horses.”

The men looked at each other,
then back at Nick. Jake put his hat on and said, “We’re all stayin’, Nick.” The
others nodded, and headed out to start the daily chores.

“Thanks, men, I’ll arrange for
some breakfast for the lot of you,” Nick said with a grin, and gave them each a
nod before he went out to the corral. He looked up at the sky. Luckily, there
hadn’t been much more than a sprinkle of rain. The heavy thunder and lightning
had frightened the horses. He took in a deep breath of fresh air, and thanked
the Lord for helping the men gather all twenty-eight horses that had run off in
fright, and lead them back safely. At least the stable at the north end,
housing the rescue horses, remained intact.

He turned toward the house and
noticed Mariah out on the deck waving at him. He waved back and decided to get
into his truck and head home, rather than call on the phone. He’d let the women
know in person that he’d need breakfast for twelve hungry men.

* * *

“Oh man, was this aroma sent from
above, or what? We’re being rewarded with this luscious food,” Art said when he
inhaled the scent of bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns.

“You may be right, Art. I often
believe Mariah herself came straight from heaven. She’s an angel.”

“You can say that again. You’re a
very lucky man.”

They started to unload the
containers of food from his truck when they spotted the police on their way
down the drive. They hurried to get the breakfast in to the men. Between the
two of them, they were able to make it in one trip. Jake met them at the
doorway of the cafeteria and took the warm containers from them. The men
followed the scent of breakfast into the lunchroom and lined up at the table.
Each of them grabbed a plate from the stack on the counter.

“Thanks Nick, we’ll save you
some,” Jake told him. He watched as Nick headed back out the door to meet with
the police officer.