Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) (42 page)

“I thought maybe you knew. There must be some kind of internal force that draws people like those two to each other.” He leaned on the table. “Mind if I change the subject?”

“Just about any other subject would be more pleasant.”

“It’s my turn to apologize. I was rude to you after that band practice. I should have offered you a ride home. Instead, I left you to find your way alone in the dark—in a wheelchair.”

She shrugged. “I think we were both fairly uncomfortable that night.”

“I’m sorry we lost contact after you left the ranch. My fault, really. So many times I wanted to talk with you, to tell you about things happening at the ranch. If there’s a chance we could get back to where we were when we took that trail ride, before Honey threw you, I’d be game to try.”

Kate grinned. He knew about her past, the worst of it, really, and yet he still wanted to be friends. “I’ve missed you and everyone else at the Whispering Pines, a lot.”

“I finally asked Mom about the accident.”

“Did that help?”

“Yeah.” Mike ran his fingers through his hair. “Would you be interested in doing some normal things together?”

She sat back, wondering what
normal
meant to him. Probably not what she’d experienced in her past.

“You know, go to a movie or out to dinner, something besides chasing bison killers. Maybe even find that eagle’s nest, like we talked about.” He stopped. “That is …” He pushed a paper napkin back and forth on the table with a fork. “I mean, unless you’re too busy hanging with Clint. He said you two have plans.”

“I like Clint, a lot. He’s a great guy, but …” She ducked her head. “But he’s not you. You’re the one I’d like to
hang with
.” There, she’d said it. After a moment’s hesitation, she peered at him—and returned the smile she’d been longing to see.

Mike lifted a finger. “One more question. Do you have any idea who killed the bison—and why?”

“Ramsey told me he killed Trudy, probably out of spite, but didn’t mention the others. I’m guessing the authorities will learn a lot more when they interrogate him and Tara.”

“And Darryl. He shot from the crowd like a bronco out of a chute when Tara said his name.”

“But Clint and the officer caught up with him fast.” Kate clasped hands and leaned toward him. “I’m kind of surprised about the connection between the three of them. I saw Tara with Ramsey but not with Darryl.”

Mike folded the napkin then folded it again. “Darryl has always had an attitude, so that’s not a huge shocker. But I’m with you—they’re a strange combo. Yet, in a way, they’re all birds of a feather. I hope they get their due, including Tara’s dad, Todd.”

“You think he collaborated with them?”

“Yeah, may even be the ringleader for the theft
and
the bison deaths. That’s what my gut and a little sleuthing tell me. Though we still don’t know who shot the cows, tests show the bullets were fired from the same weapon. So our next step is to find the gun. And the owner. We also need to figure out who killed the second calf.”

“Second calf?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s too bad. I hope this is the end of the killings.” She moved her bowl aside. “I haven’t heard how your dog is doing. Is Tramp okay?”

Mike brightened. “Doc Hall let me take Tramp home last week. My old puppy is slow moving but happy to be back where he belongs. He mostly lays on the deck soaking up the sunshine.”

His cell phone rang. Mike dropped his spoon into the bowl and tugged the phone out of his shirt pocket. “This is Mike.”

The voice was so loud Kate could hear it across the table. “Bossman, this is Clint. Thought I should warn you.”

Mike moaned. “What? The twins decide they want to shoot buffalo after all?”

Kate heard Clint chuckle. “Worse. A deputy just brought your aunt up to the ranch. Dropped her off at the lobby, where Susan and I were waiting for you guys to come back from the hospital. Since we were the only people around, she chewed us up one side and down the other, madder than a pit bull with a nose full of porcupine quills that nobody offered her a ride home after the fireworks.”

Mike gave Kate a sideways glance. “We’ll never hear the end of it.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

SURROUNDED BY CLAPPING, CHEERING
friends and neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Duncan danced across the dining hall floor. Gazing into her husband’s smiling blue eyes, Kate reveled in the blissful moment, one she’d dreamed of but never expected to come true. God was so good to her.

They swung past Aunt Judith, who stood with a cane in one hand and camera in the other, snapping picture after picture, often standing directly in front of the hired photographer. Mike whispered in Kate’s ear. “Expect to see those pictures in Aunt Judith’s Christmas letter.”

She laughed. “I was surprised to see her today, after what happened last summer.”

“Me, too.”

The song ended and their guests began ringing miniature cowbells, calling for a kiss.

Mike leaned her backward. “My pleasure.” He kissed her long and hard.

Kate barely heard the catcalls and applause.

He lifted her upright. “Want something to eat?”

She snuggled into his chest. “I think I just had dessert.”

Shaking hands and hugging guests, they finally made it to the head table, where they sat next to Laura.

She hugged Kate. “Hello, gorgeous daughter-in-law. That was a beautiful wedding.”

“Thanks to you and Dymple. We couldn’t have done it without you. Or without God, who gave us a gorgeous day.” Their wedding had been blessed with a perfect Indian summer day—which on the ranch meant balmy breezes, red-and-orange underbrush, golden aspen and a dazzling deep-blue sky.

Mike reached around Kate to tap his mom on the shoulder. “Tramp was the star of the show.”

Laura laughed. “You’re right. When he trotted up the aisle with his tail in the air and that basket of flowers hanging from his teeth, people about fell out of their chairs laughing.”

Kate waggled a finger in the air. “Never again will I say
you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Mike had trained Tramp for weeks. Evidently his attempts to discourage the dog from chewing and flipping the basket had worked.

Mike stood. “I’m going to go get us cider and some of Marita’s tamales. How many do you want?”

“I’m starved. Would I look like a pig if I ate four?”

He stooped to kiss her again. “This is your day, my love. You can have whatever you want.”

She touched his cheek. “You’re all I want.”

He winked. “I hope you never stop telling me that.”

Kate’s heart did a flip-flop, like it did every time he winked at her. “And I hope you never stop winking at me.”

Laura sipped from a goblet of cider and set it down. “I’m so glad you asked Cyrus to walk you up the aisle, Kate. I don’t know if you could see it, but that gruff old man was beaming like you were his own daughter.”

Kate lifted her hair off her neck. Dancing had warmed her up. “Before the music started, he told me he was proud of me for how far I’ve come in my life. I almost choked. Never in a thousand years would I have expected that from Cyrus.”

Amy, Kate’s maid-of-honor, leaned in from the other side of Laura. “I thought it was sweet when Pastor Chuck asked, ‘Who gives this woman to marry this man?’ and Cyrus helped Dymple and Aunt Mary stand up. I got teary-eyed when they all said ‘
We
do!’ really loud in their crackly voices.”

Kate smiled. “So did I.” God had filled the parent and grandparent gaps in her life with some amazing people.

Mike returned with two plates of food. Manuel followed with the cider.

Kate got to her feet. “You’re not going to like this, Manuel, but I’m going to kiss you. This is probably the only day I can get away with it.”

He blushed and backed away, but she grabbed him, holding him by the arms. “I just want to say you’re like a brother to me and I’m proud of you.” She kissed him on the cheek and wiped away the lipstick smudge before letting go. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He rubbed his cheek. “I like having you for a big sister and Mike’s like a big brother, but it doesn’t mean you have to kiss me.”

“Like I said, today’s a special day. I feel like kissing everyone.”

“Hey!” Mike lowered his eyebrows. “Save some kisses for me.”

Manuel rolled his eyes and returned to his friends.

The band leader, a big jovial man, tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, listen up. It’s time for the dollar dance. For just one dollar, you may purchase a dance with the bride or the groom. This young man—” He pointed to Drew, Coach’s oldest son. “This young man has a box of safety pins. Show him your dollar, and he’ll give you a pin with which to attach your bills to the clothing of your dance partner. Notice I said
clothing
, not
skin
.”

The crowd laughed at the time-worn joke.

Mike squeezed Kate’s hand. “Looks like we’re on again.”

Kate stood and took his arm.

He leaned close. “Can you hear my stomach growling? I didn’t get one bite of tamale.”

“Me, neither. And they smell so good.”

Before anyone else could make a move, Coach zipped toward his son to pick a pin from the box. He motioned to the band leader, who bent down, jowls hanging, to listen as the coach whispered in his ear.

The man clapped his hands and straightened. “Perfect.” He returned to the microphone. “We have our first request for a dance with the bride, plus a request for a special song.”

Kate and Mike looked at each other and then back at Coach, who rolled close to pin a bill to Kate’s sleeve.

She tucked her dress around her knees before sitting on his lap.

He yelled, “We’re ready. Hit it!”

The crowd moved back.

He spun his chair into the middle of the room, flipping wheelies and figure eights.

Kate screamed, clinging to his neck.

Gales of laughter filled the room as the musicians broke into song.

Buffalo gal, won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight?

Buffalo gal, won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon.

The onlookers clapped and sang along.

As I was walking down the street, down the street, down the street,

A pretty little gal I chanced to meet, oh, she was fair to see.

Ohhh, buffalo gal, won’t you…”

Kate and Coach laughed so hard Kate thought they’d fall out of the wheelchair, but they made it to the end of the dance, and others got their turn. Dancing with one partner after another, all the while blowing kisses to her new husband, Kate thought she’d never had so much fun.

She saw Fletcher whirling Aunt Mary around the room, her tiny feet balanced on the tops of his big boots. She waved to Amy, who danced with cowboy after cowboy, her auburn hair swinging. In the corner, Cyrus twirled Dymple with one hand. They’d both feel it tomorrow, but she was glad they were having as much fun as she was tonight.

Desperate for a breath of fresh air, Kate stepped onto the verandah to cool down. She dropped into a rocker and kicked off her white boots. A full moon was just beginning to rise over the mountain. She smiled. What a wonderful finale to a fairytale day.

She rested her head on the back of the rocker, thinking of the new journey she’d just embarked on. It wouldn’t be perfect. She knew that. But she and Mike had each other now. And a sense of calm had settled on the ranch. Thank God, the bison killings had stopped.

Though the authorities still hadn’t found the gun or figured out who killed the cows and the second calf, Ramsey eventually admitted to slitting Trudy’s throat. And Darryl had confessed to cutting the pasture fence—because he didn’t like the Duncans, he said.

The prosecutor had pressed for the “real” reason without response. The ranch hand also admitted to planting the snake and the ferret—and the drugs, all with the intent of forcing Kate to leave the WP. Evidently he didn’t like her, either.

Darryl said he helped Tara steal the cash but insisted she’d written the email messages. None of the three took ownership of the gruesome picture on the computer nor did any of them provide substantive reasons for their actions. Kate had a feeling Ramsey’s obsession with her and Tara’s with Mike had a lot to do with the summer’s craziness. And Darryl? Associating with the other two was probably enough to prove mental instability.

Mike and the sheriff were convinced there was more to the story, much more. And Mike had never faltered in his belief that the mastermind was Tara’s father, Todd Hughes. The few times she’d been around the man, her street “antenna” had gone haywire. Maybe Mike was right.

“There you are. I wondered where you disappeared to.” Dymple plopped into the rocker next to her with a groan. “These old bones aren’t going to let me forget this night for a couple of weeks—just like the Fourth of July. But the pain was worth it.”

Kate grinned. “I’ll never forget how you danced in the street below the truck. I couldn’t have said what I did without knowing you believed in me and prayed for me.”

Dymple took her hand. “My pleasure, sweetie. And it was truly a pineapple to participate in your wedding. I don’t believe I’ve ever enjoyed one as much as yours.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“My favorite part was when a meadowlark trilled in the meadow just after Pastor Chuck pronounced you two man and wife.”

Kate nodded. “That was a special moment.” After the ceremony, Chuck had told he remembered his mom saying, “Whenever I hear a meadowlark sing, I know everything is all right in my world.”

Mike stepped out the dining room door.

Kate smiled at her handsome husband. Yes, everything was all right in her world.

“Time for the last dance, Mrs. Duncan.”

She slipped on her boots while he helped Dymple stand.

He led them both inside. The musicians were already singing.
Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam …

Mike pulled Kate close. “They’re playing the WP theme song.”