Sugar Plums for Dry Creek & At Home in Dry Creek (16 page)

J
udd Bowman wished silk had never been in vented. Or women. Or both of them. If he hadn't decided to track down some white silk cloth for Lizette be fore he stopped at the jail to check about Neal Strong, the kids' father, he wouldn't have wasted two hours of valuable time that he could have spent out looking for the escaped prisoner along side the sheriff's department.

Neal had escaped yesterday afternoon.

Someone had decided that there was room in the Billings jail for Neal and had gone to Miles City to get him in a patrol car. On the way there, Neal complained that he needed to use a rest room. Unfortunately, no one checked to be sure Neal's hand cuffs were se cure be fore they escorted him to the rest room. When a backup patrol car came to investigate why there was no response to a radio
message, the officers found one of their own un conscious on the floor of the rest room, and Neal, along with the officer's gun, no where to be found.

Judd demanded to know why no one had called him last night with the news, only to be told that they were trying to reach Sheriff Wall in Colorado to in form him of what had happened.

Judd pressed the gas pedal on his pickup a little farther down. The police in Billings thought Neal was more likely to head for a drug dealer or the border than his children, but Judd wasn't so sure. He wasn't going to take any chances.

Judd relaxed a little when he saw Pete's pickup in front of the barn where the ballet rehearsal was going to happen. The cow boy would see to the kids' safety if their father was around.

Judd looked at the clock on his dash board. Speaking of the ballet, he was late. He hoped the extra yards of white silk he'd bought would be enough to make Lizette for give him.

It hadn't been easy to find silk in Miles City. Judd had had to buy it from a secondhand store owner who called some one he knew who had some white silk left from an old customer who had been using the stuff to make par a chutes—or maybe it was bags for par a chutes. Neither store owner could remember. They did remember it had been extra-strong silk, guar an teed to hold a hundred pounds, or maybe it
was two hundred pounds. They couldn't remember how much.

Judd assured them the silk only had to be strong enough to hold a punch cup, and that he would take it as soon as the other man could get it there. He only hoped it wasn't nylon in stead of silk. No one was really sure on that point, either.

Lizette was still waiting to begin the performance. Linda and Mrs. Hargrove had helped clean the faces of her younger dancers and slipped their costumes over their heads. Charley had fussed about his missing bathrobe so much that Lizette had given him a big towel to wrap around his shoulders. Then Pete had walked in a few minutes ago with a bruise on his cheek, muttering something about a stub born cow. Lizette had asked him what happened, but he shrugged and said he'd tell her later.

“The show must go on,” Pete said with a grin as he took his Mouse King costume off the chair where Lizette had laid it and started to ward the stair way leading up to the hay loft. “I'll be right back.”

“Oh, you can change down here,” Lizette said. She hadn't wanted to send the children up to the cold hay loft to change, so she and Charley had hung a blanket in a corner of the barn.

But Pete was al ready half way up the stairs with his tail dragging be hind him.

Lizette her self was in her ballet slippers and her yellow dress.

“I can fill in for the Nutcracker,” Mrs. Hargrove offered. The older woman had changed into her billowing Snow Queen costume and was chat ting with Madame Aprele and Edna Best. “I think I have his lines memorized from watching him practice with you.”

Charley was sitting in his rocking chair next to the Christmas tree. “The whole thing?”

Mrs. Hargrove nodded.

“So you'd do the Nutcracker kiss?” Edna Best asked as she pulled her note book back out of her purse.

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Hargrove said, and then chuckled. “I see you're still looking for that head line.”

Edna smiled and shrugged. “Nothing ever happens around here. I was hoping maybe I could get a news story in the regular part of the paper as well as a re view in the Dry Creek Tidbits section.”

“Surely it's news that a ballet is going to take place in a barn,” Madame Aprele offered helpfully. The older woman no longer seemed as shocked about everything and was actually giving Edna some valuable pointers on how to re view the ballet. “In Seattle, that would be a head line.”

“Barns are not news around here,” Edna said. “We have so many of them.”

“Well, you'll have to wait for Judd to get here to stage the kiss,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “Although I must say, he seems to have a mind of his own about how a kiss should go on.”

“That's why I drew him a diagram,” Lizette said. “He just needs to see how to do it.”

Charley snorted. “Whoever heard of a diagram for a kiss?”

There was a thud up in the hayloft that sounded as if Pete was taking off his boots.

Edna was writing notes. “Could you tell me more about what's lacking in the way the Nutcracker kisses?”

“Oh, I didn't say any thing was lacking,” Lizette said. She hoped the boot thud meant that Pete was al most in his costume. “And I don't really think you should be quoting me on this. I mean, I'm not an expert on kissing or any thing. It's just for the ballet scene.”

Lizette decided there was really no need to wait for the Nutcracker to arrive be fore they began the production. “Charley can just read the Nutcracker's lines.”

“I can do the Nutcracker's kissing, too,” Charley said firmly. “In my day and age, we didn't do any of this stage-kissing stuff. That's just for Hollywood types.”

“How do you know? You've never kissed a Hollywood type,” Mrs. Hargrove said.

“Now, how do you know who I've kissed and who I haven't kissed?” Charley said with his chin in the air.

“Well, I've known you all your life.”

“That doesn't mean you know all about me. I could still surprise you yet.”

“Don't think I couldn't surprise you, too,” Mrs. Hargrove retorted.

My good ness, Lizette thought, what was wrong with the two of them?

Someone cleared his throat loudly from the sidelines. It must be Pete coming down the stairs, Lizette thought as she looked up.

“Speaking of surprises,” Pete said calmly as he stood very still.

Pete hadn't changed into his costume, al though he did have an other bruise on his face. Still wearing his work jeans and a flannel shirt, he was standing at the top of the stairs with his arms in the air. There were shadows, but there was enough light to see the gun that was being held to the back of Pete's head as well as the man be hind him holding the gun.

There was silence for a moment.

“There's my bath robe,” Charley finally said.

Lizette felt two pairs of little arms circle around her legs.

“That's my dad,” Bobby whispered as he tightened his grip on Lizette's legs.

“You've been hiding up there all day?” Lizette said. She tried to make her voice sound normal and conversational. She didn't want the children terrified any more than they al ready were. “No wonder the door to the barn was un locked. After all that time, you must be hungry.”

“I'm not hungry. I have a head ache. I've been trying to sleep, except you have that awful music playing and it's making my eyes cross.”

The man did look pale, even in the shadows.

“That's Tchaikovsky!” Madame Aprele pro tested. “He's famous. He's never given any one a headache!”

“I prefer a fiddle,” the man said. “Something with some spirit.”

Madame Aprele opened her mouth to say something and then thought better of it and closed it again.

Lizette agreed there was no reason to argue music with a man holding a gun. “I'll be happy to turn the music off, and then maybe you can go back and lie down and have a good rest.”

The man snorted. “Nice try, but I think I'll stay right here where I can see everybody. Like you, old man.” He pointed at Charley. “I see you reaching
in side your coat pocket for something. You got a gun in there?”

Charley held up his open hands. “No gun. I was reaching for an ant acid. Stress is killing me.”

“Well, you keep your hands out of your pockets.” The man nudged Pete to start walking down the stairs. “You all keep your hands where I can see them. We have a situation here.”

“We don't need to have a situation,” Lizette said as she put her own hands out in full view. “If you just put the gun down, no one needs to get hurt.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? You al ways were looking out for your self first,” the man said. “I remember you from the gas station. No room for a poor man like me to ride with you when any one could see you had enough room. Someone like you thinks they're better than me. Well, you're not better than me now. Not when I've got the gun.”

“I don't think I'm better than any one,” Lizette said. “I just want every one to be safe.”

There was an awkward silence as every one thought about being safe.

“You must be Neal Strong,” Edna finally said. She had her hands out in front of her, as well. “I've heard about you. Something about a wrongful arrest.”

“You bet it was wrongful!”

“Well, maybe you'd like to put down the gun and tell me about it. I'm a re porter with the newspaper.
If we work at get ting your story out there, maybe there's a chance for you.”

“The only chance for me is this,” Neal said as he nodded to ward the gun he held in his hand.

Pete and Neal had reached the bottom of the stairs, but no one started to breathe normally.

Even with no breath left in their lungs, they all gasped when the door to the barn started to open.

Judd held him self perfectly still. He'd come up to the door earlier and heard some of what was happening in side. He'd run over to the café and asked Linda to call the police in Billings and tell them their man was armed and in the big barn in Dry Creek. Then he'd run back to the barn door.

“I know I'm late,” Judd said as he stepped into the main area of the barn. He had the white silk under one arm. “I had a hard time finding the silk and—”

Judd broke off his words, hoping he sounded genuinely surprised. “Well, who's this?”

Judd al ready knew who the man was, but he didn't want to give Neal any reason to be suspicious that Judd had notified the authorities.

“I'm the kids' dad,” Neal said as waved his gun around. “You must be that cousin of Barbara's? You look a lot like her.”

Judd felt his smile tighten. “You've seen Barbara?”

Neal nodded. “Tracked her down. I told her she had no right to leave the kids off some where. I'm their dad. I say where they're supposed to be.”

Judd knew he shouldn't argue with the man, but he didn't like the scared look Amanda was giving him.

Judd took a casual step closer to the kids. “Bobby and Amanda are with me for now. They're no trouble. No need to bother your self with them.”

“You and Barbara would like that, wouldn't you?” Neal sneered. “You're two of a kind. Bowmans both of you. You're spoiling the kids.”

So that's what family is, Judd thought. Hearing your name coupled with some one else's in a sneer and not even minding it because it meant some one else was in the thick of it with you. What do you know? He did have a family.

“They're good kids.” Judd took an other step closer to Amanda and Bobby. He figured the gun could go off at any minute, but if it did he had some things to say to some people be fore he died. “I'm not nearly good enough for those kids of yours, but if they were mine, I'd be proud of it. They're part of my family and I love them both.”

Judd half expected the gun to go off when he said he loved the kids. Maybe Neal Strong didn't hear him. The words echoed in Judd's own ears, but that might be because he'd rarely even said he
liked
any
one in his life. He'd certainly never admitted to loving any one. Love had never been for a man like him. Judd wasn't sure what love was, so he couldn't say for sure that's what he felt when he looked at those two kids holding on to Lizette's legs, but it must be. He was willing to die to protect them. That had to be something close to the love that made a family a family.

All three pairs of eyes—Lizette's and the two kids'—looked up at him.

Judd blinked. He wondered what was happening to the air around here that a man's eyes could tear up just looking at some one.

Judd took the final step that brought him next to Lizette and the kids.

“Now ain't that touching,” Neal drawled as Amanda and Bobby left Lizette's legs and wrapped them selves around Judd.

Judd resisted the urge to bend down and lift the children into his arms. Instead, he gently guided both children to the back of his legs so that there would be less of them to be tar gets if Neal was as un settled as he looked.

Judd forced him self to shrug. “It's still cold in here. They just like to wrap them selves around something warm. That's all.”

Neal snorted. “You don't fool me. I don't let go of what's mine all that easy. Just ask Barbara.”

“I've been wanting to talk to Barbara,” Judd said casually. “Do you know where I can reach her?”

Neal just laughed. “You ain't get ting nothing out of me.”

“I'd be willing to pay,” Judd said smoothly.

“I've got money.”

“I wasn't thinking of cash,” Judd said. He hoped the police speculation that Neal had been going through drug withdrawal was correct. “I've got some white stuff out in the pickup that might interest you.”

“What is it?” Neal said.

Judd saw the look in Neal's eyes and knew he had him. Hook, line and sinker. “Not something you'd want me to announce right out here in the open.”