Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series) (17 page)

             
Still thoughtful, she turned back to him.  “What do you mean?  I had something to do with it?” 

             
He answered without looking at her, “I don’t know, honestly.  The last while before we met you, I’d been struggling.  Things are going very well for me right now, but for some reason I’ve been, or had been, not very happy.  There’s been this deep feeling of unrest for a long time now.  Something was missing.  My spirit was tired.  I’d lost my enthusiasm for everything.  I knew I had, I just didn’t know how to get it back.”

             
He shrugged.  “I’m not really sure how or why, but it’s back.”  He looked directly at her this time.  “The only thing different is you’re here, so maybe it is you, or helping you.  I don’t understand it.  I just know life is good for me right now.  Since you’ve come, it’s like I’ve been able to settle down and focus.  The unrest is gone, and some really important things have become blatantly obvious to me.  Like the fact that I should have been far more serious about the gospel a long time ago.  I should never have put off something so important.  Rossen thinks it‘s you.”  

They were quiet while they considered this. 
At length she asked, “And what do you think?” 

             
There was just a moment before he answered, “I think it’s you.” 

             
They rode in easy silence for several minutes.  Finally she said, “I hadn’t lost my enthusiasm.  What I’d lost is peace.  Or maybe I’d never even had it and was just now coming to realize it.  At any rate there was none and I needed it desperately.”

             
“And now?”  He looked at her and their eyes met briefly before he had to look back at the road.

             
Softly, she said, “I have peace.  I’ve come to know it’s incredibly precious.” 

He thought about that for another minute and then said, “I
noticed that you’ve put a Post-It on the photograph of the river in the trailer. That scripture from Isaiah about ‘And I will send her peace like a river.’  You’re right.  Peace is incredibly precious.”  

             
“It is.”  She was quiet for another several minutes, and then finally said, “May I ask you another question?”

             
He smiled at her, “Is it as deep as the last one?” 

             
“Probably worse.”  She met his glance. 

             
“Well, let me have it.”

             
“Whose saddle is it?”  She could tell instantly by the look on his face that she was right.  It was worse.

              She’d started to wonder if he would even answer when he finally said with an infinitely sad voice, “It was my sister’s.”

             
She softly asked, “Was?”  She could feel the sadness clear across the truck.

             
“She was killed by a drunk driver a few years ago.”  He paused.  “My dad was killed as well.”

             
She had no idea what to say.  Finally, she slid across the seat and laid her head on his shoulder.  It was the closest thing she knew to giving him a hug, and she simply said, “I’m so sorry.”

              A long time later, Rossen raised his groggy head to see them sitting like that.  He yawned and lay back down with a smile and Isabel knew he was wondering what he’d missed. 

Chapter 7

As
Slade walked into the hospital room the next afternoon to pick up the documents after being careful to make sure no one was watching, he was astounded to find that Dante was Black.  His surprise must have shown on his face. 

             
The very tall, very black man in the bed swathed in bandages looked him up and down and said casually, “You must be from Carrie.”

             
“And I’m assuming you’re Dante.”  For a second it was like two herd bulls sizing each other up.  Finally, Slade shook his head and started to chuckle. “She’s talked about you a lot.  You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re talented, you’re tall, you’re dark.  That’s what she told me.  Dark.”  He laughed again.  “Tall and dark.  I never dreamed you were black and eight feet tall.”  He was still shaking his head laughing.

             
In a voice that was low and almost menacing, Dante asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”               

Slade
grinned at him. “Dude, since you are about twice my size, even if I did, which I certainly don’t, I’d never admit it.”

             
Dante smiled gingerly. “Good, because I’m too darned tired to argue.  These nurses keep you up all night trying to make you well.  Somebody ought to tell them that sleep would help.”  Just then the nurse came in and began to take his vital signs.  “See what I mean.”

             
The nurse teased him and said to Slade, “Try to ignore the whining.  In a minute when his pain pill takes effect he’ll completely forget whining and try to hug you.  Watch out.”  She dropped her stethoscope back around her neck.  “Everything’s good!”  She patted his foot as she bustled back out.

             
Without wasting time, Dante asked, “How’s Carrie?” 

             
“Well.  Frustrated that she isn’t here with you.  She seems to like you quite a bit.” 

             
Dante smiled again and groaned. “She can be a bit feisty when she wants.”

             
In a serious tone, Slade asked, “How are you?  Really?”   

             
“Better now.  I wasn’t so good a day or two ago.  There were a bunch of them.  These guys mean business.  I hope wherever you have her they don’t find her.”  

Their eyes met and
Slade said evenly, “I think she’s safe.  If there’s any sign of change, we’ll do something else.”  There was no doubt they were on the same team.

             
Just then Eli walked into the room.  He and Slade shook hands and introduced themselves.  Slade had left his hat, belt and boots off and was wearing a plain white button down.  Eli looked him up and down and seemed to immediately decide to trust him. 

They spoke for a few minutes
both about keeping Carrie safe, and about the financial responsibility of the stallion.  Slade had given it a lot of thought, and felt he should tell Eli who they were, and what they were doing.  Having met the Johnsons, he knew they were as concerned about Isabel, or Carrie, as he and Rossen were.  He explained and left both cell numbers and Rossen’s parents’ number in case they needed to contact them.

             
Receiving a file of documents, he shook both men’s hands and left the hospital room.  As he walked out of the door he was shaking his head again.  “Tall and dark.” He laughed all the way down the hall.

              Back in the hospital room, Eli gave Dante a questioning look.  “What was that all about?”

             
Dante cracked a smile that hurt his face.  “She told him I was tall and dark.”

                                                        ****

              Back at the trailer Slade handed her the papers and shook his head again, still laughing as he went outside.

             
Rossen came out to help him hook on and asked, “What’s tickled your funny bone?”  Slade chuckled again.

             
“You know her friend Dante, who she always talks about?  The one who’s tall and dark?”

             
“What about him?”

             
“He’s gotta be 6’7, weighs about 290, and he’s Black.  Tall and dark.”  Laughing again, he finished securing the trailer and they got under way.  Several times driving down the road on the way to have her signature notarized and mail the papers back he chuckled to himself. 

             
When Isabel opened the folder they found that Eli had also sent three thousand dollars in cash with the paperwork.  He must have realized she wasn't using any credit cards or bank accounts.

                                                        ****

The fact that Isabel hated the bulls had actually turned out to be a convenient way for Slade to earn points in the rough stock without upsetting her.  He and Rossen were careful to keep her from finding out he was drawing bulls, and by not being in the first few, so far she hadn’t heard the announcer talk about him when he rode.  Every time he rode he felt guilty for misleading her.  Actually, every time he rode he felt guilty anyway.  He wasn’t nineteen anymore.  He used to really enjoy riding bulls.  The adrenaline rush was incredible.  But lately he was questioning whether the risk was even worth it.  He had nothing to prove like the younger guys did.  He’d already earned his place among the top cowboys in the world at the last two National Finals.  

             
He’d even bought a flack jacket, but had only worn it once because it felt stiff and awkward.  Maybe if he used it more he'd be more comfortable in it.  He resolved to try wearing it when he and Rossen were practice roping. For some reason, Isabel made him think a lot more about the future and being responsible—and not just to keep from offending her.

                                                        ****

              Slade and Rossen had been gearing up for something they called the Cowboy’s Christmas.  They’d told her it was about five weeks of as many rodeos as they could fit in, beginning in the last week of June. Their calendar was insane.  There were times they were actually going to two rodeos in one day in nearby towns.  This was the most important time of the year to accrue points to qualify for the NFR, which she’d learned was the championship in which only the top fifteen cowboys in the world in each event were allowed to compete.  It really was a big deal.  The National Finals Rodeo paid out over six million dollars in the week or so of competition, and it was at this rodeo that the year’s world champions were determined.  Slade and Rossen had set a goal to qualify again this year.

             
Isabel had never done this before and she had no idea what to expect.  They tried to tie up all the loose ends of their non-rodeo business for the duration, and their agendas had been streamlined as much as possible.  She stocked up on groceries and wanted to have the wash done and everything as ready as she could.

             
Not much had ever been said since they’d discovered her real identity as far as who was working for whom, so they’d just continued the status quo as smoothly as possible.  There was a jar of cash behind the sink in the trailer she sometimes used for groceries and the guys just always made sure it was full so the question of money hadn't come up much.  She tried never to make a big deal of working for them because she knew the fact that she was relatively well off could become an issue.  She’d been waiting for Slade to fuss about it and he finally did one morning when she went to leave the trailer with their dirty jeans again.

             
She carried them to the truck and he followed her and brought them back in.  Rossen suddenly needed to check the horses, so she knew he’d been expecting this confrontation too.

             
She didn’t want to argue with Slade but she wasn’t going to let him win either, so she waited a minute until he was busy elsewhere, then headed for the truck with the laundry again.

             
He caught her at the cab and said, “Isabel, stop being juvenile.  You aren’t going to do our laundry.  It’s bad enough that we let you do everything else.  Rossen and I will do it later.  Just stop.  This is silly.”  He picked up the bag, and headed back to the trailer.  Isabel let him haul it inside only because she didn’t want anyone else around to see them argue.

             
Inside she crowded him back against the wall.  “Slade Marsh.”  She wished she knew his middle name, she’d have thrown that in for good measure.  “Why are you doing this?  What in the world is wrong with me simply doing the laundry?  Do you think I don’t do wash at home?”  She folded her arms across her chest and prepared to stare him down.  “What is any different with me now than before?”

             
Slade sounded frustrated. “We didn’t know you had a net worth more valuable than both of us put together, times five.  That’s what.  We thought we were hiring a college student, remember?”

             
She laughed.  “I
am
a college student!  Remember?”  She took a deep breath.  “Let me get this straight.  First off, you’re saying you should treat people differently based on how much money they have?”  She smiled triumphantly.  “That is definitely
not
what Jesus taught.”