Ranch At River's End. Brenda Mott
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back a few steps from the fence. She was wearing denim shorts and a pink tank top and her blond hair was tousled, as if she’d been running. He wasn’t sure he liked the way she seemed to stir something inside him, but he waved her into the yard. “Darci, what’s up?” Then he noticed Christopher’s nose was bleeding. “What happened to you?”
The kid brushed the back of his hand across the smear of blood. “Nothing. I mean, it’s no big deal. I—uh—wanted to know if I could see your puppies?”
“Well, Chewy’s a little protective of them right now. But you’re welcome to come back when they get their eyes open and start walking around. How’d you know about them?”
“I followed your dog. I could tell she’s nursing a litter.”
“Ah. Sherlock Holmes.” Jordan stepped out onto the porch.
“She came into our yard,” Darci added, standing beside Christopher now. “And she did steal a hamburger. But it’s no big deal.”
“I’m sorry,” Jordan said. “She’s a stray we adopted, so she’s not really trained.”
“So, how long before their eyes open?” Chris asked, his own eyes wide and eager. “I really want to get a dog.”
“About another week. And since you’re the first person to ask for one, I guess that means you get pick of the litter.”
Michaela scowled, and Jordan put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders, wondering what was wrong. She was never unfriendly.
“That is,” Jordan added, “if it’s all right with your mom.” He looked at Darci.
“We’ll see,” she said. “Chris, we haven’t really discussed this.”
“Please,” he begged, clasping his hands together.
“I said we’ll see. Now let’s go. Uncle Leon and Aunt Stella are probably wondering where we ran off to.” She turned to look at Jordan. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll let you know. I hope we didn’t disturb you.” She hesitantly acknowledged Michaela, no doubt remembering how she’d upset her earlier.
Jordan knew he should explain, but this wasn’t the time.
“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll see you Monday, Darci.” No long weekends for hospital staff.
“Yeah,” she said. “See you. Bye, Michaela.”
“Bye,” Michaela said, with obvious reluctance. She turned to go inside.
“Hold up a minute, Mac.” Jordan closed the front door behind them. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like them.”
Jordan sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. “Why not? You don’t even know them.”
“And I don’t want to.” She chewed her lip. “I talked to Jenny earlier, and she told me what Christopher did—why he had to leave his old school.” She was shaking now, and Jordan grew concerned.
“What did he do?”
“He took a gun to school and threatened some kids in the lunchroom.”
“What? Are you sure?” And then he recalled a story that had dominated the news last year. It was about a twelve-year-old boy who’d taken a replica gun to school and scared a cafeteria full of students and teachers. No one was hurt, Jordan recalled, but people were extremely upset about the whole thing. Understandable after the terrible shootings that had occurred at Columbine High School some years ago.
“That’s what people at school are saying,” Michaela went on. “I don’t want him to have one of Chewy’s puppies.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said. “I’ll speak to Chris’s mom.”
If it really was Christopher who’d threatened his classmates, maybe he’d changed in the months since it happened.
Then again, maybe he hadn’t. Jordan’s first instinct was to protect his daughter, but at the same time, he couldn’t help wonder why Chris would have done something so awful.
He had to have had a reason.
Didn’t he?
So that would explain the graffiti, and why Christopher was seeing his sister Nina, a psychologist.
He wished he could ask Nina about the boy, and knowing he couldn’t left him feeling restless. There was always the good old gossip mill. Shirley, the hospital receptionist, would likely know something.
Then again, he could always just ask Darci.
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY, Darci awoke early, anxious for the auction. It would be fun to help Stella and Leon pick out horses. She showered and dressed, then went to wake up Christopher.
“Mo-om,” he groaned. “It’s Saturday. I want to sleep in.”
“Nothing doing, buddy. You’re not staying here alone, and you’re not making me miss this auction.”
Christopher covered his head with a pillow. “I’m thirteen, for crying out loud! When are you going to stop making me feel like I need a sitter all the time?”
“When I decide you’ve earned the privilege to stay by yourself. Now get up and get dressed. We’ll have fun.”
But a part of Darci felt guilty as she left his room. Was she being overprotective, not letting her son stay home alone? She couldn’t help it. After all that had happened, she felt she needed to keep a close eye on him. Darci sighed. Maybe Nina Drake could shed some light on the matter. Chris’s first appointment with her on Thursday had gone well. He liked Nina, and so did Darci. She’d gotten to know the woman a little better the couple of times she’d seen her at the Shadow S this week, and had made an appointment to talk with her one on one. Darci had some issues of her own that weren’t yet resolved, and talking to her son’s counselor might benefit both her and Chris.
To Darci’s surprise, Christopher actually had on his boots and jeans when she went downstairs. “Hey, you’re wearing your boots,” she said.
“Might as well. We’re going to a horse auction, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are. Now how about some pancakes before we take off?”
Darci made apple-cinnamon pancakes from a mix, and even got Christopher to help clean up the dishes without too much complaining. Then they were off.
The auction barn was located at the edge of town, not far from the feed store. Trucks and trailers were parked everywhere when they arrived in Stella and Leon’s extended-cab Chevy, towing a four-horse trailer. Leon found a spot just a few spaces down from a familiar black Ford Explorer.
What would Jordan be doing at the horse auction? But there was the Honor Student bumper sticker, and as Darci walked toward the holding pens out behind the auction barn with Christopher and her aunt and uncle, she found herself looking for Jordan.
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