Jack figured that somewhere between the ranch and the feed store, Delray was going to fire him.
Early that morning, the rancher had handed him a list of chores to do, then he had left in his pickup. He hadn’t said where he was going, but Jack assumed he would check the herd to see if he had lost any more head during the night. Jack did the jobs on Delray’s list, and when he was finished with those he created others to keep him busy.
He saw Delray return in time for lunch, but he went into the house without speaking. It was almost three o’clock before Delray sought him out where he was repairing a bridle in the tack room. “We’re going to the feed store.”
When Jack emerged from the small toilet in the barn after washing his hands, Delray was already in his pickup truck with the engine running. He didn’t acknowledge Jack when he got in. They didn’t make even idle conversation.
Jack was itching to know if Delray had spoken to the vet and what he had learned from the postmortem on the cattle, but he felt the less he said now, the better. So they drove toward town in stony silence. Jack guessed he should be glad Delray wasn’t talking. As long as Delray wasn’t talking, he wasn’t being dismissed.
The hell of it was, he didn’t want to leave.
It was his rule never to form an attachment that he couldn’t walk away from at a moment’s notice. He hadn’t wanted to live like that. That kind of solitary life had chosen him, not the other way around. But he was used to it by now. He went into every situation knowing that it was temporary. He had developed a knack for knowing when the time was right to say good-bye and move on. Ordinarily he did so without a backward glance and let his nose lead him to his next destination.
But this was no ordinary situation. He hadn’t picked the Corbett Cattle Ranch at random. Nor had he selected the timing of his arrival. That had been determined when Carl Herbold escaped from prison.
He’d broken his pattern. His standard operating procedure didn’t apply. He couldn’t just drive away when he felt it was advisable. If he was basing his decisions on what was advisable, he wouldn’t have come here to start with. But he was here. And until Carl Herbold was recaptured, he wanted to stay.
Of course if Delray told him to clear out, there wouldn’t be much he could do about it except pack up and go.
At the feed store, Delray placed his order with the cashier. His economy of words bordered on rudeness. It was Jack who thanked the man when he handed Delray his receipt. The vendor didn’t offer to help them load the heavy sacks of grain into the pickup and, because of Delray’s brusqueness, Jack couldn’t say he blamed him.
But Jack couldn’t help but notice how hard Delray was exerting himself. “This heat is a bitch. Start the motor and turn on the air. I’ll finish up.”
“Don’t you think I can handle a man’s job?”
Soundly rebuked, Jack let the matter drop. Delray was pissed, and it wasn’t because Jack had offered to do the heavy work for him. It wasn’t entirely because of the dead cows, either. Jack’s money was on Anna and the beer in the barn.
Delray secured the tailgate and they got back into the truck. His face was red and congested. “I could stand something to drink.”
Jack was surprised that the older man owned up to a weakness of any kind, but he said, “Sounds good.”
Delray drove to the Dairy Queen. They went inside to enjoy the air-conditioning, placed their order with the adolescent girl tending the counter, then chose a booth and sat down across from each other. Glancing over his shoulder, Delray frowned disdainfully at the girl. Every feature of her face had been pierced with a hoop or a stud. Even her tongue had been harpooned, and on it sat a black pearl.
“Why’d she do that to herself?”
“Probably to rile old farts like us.”
Delray looked at Jack, then came as close to laughing as he ever had. “You’re probably right.”
For the next few minutes they enjoyed their slushy frozen lemonades. Delray finished his drink first and pushed aside his cup. Staring out the window at a bed of dusty sunflowers, he made no attempt at conversation. Jack wondered if he was choosing the words he was going to use to fire him. Rather than sweat it out, he decided to seize the bull by the horns. “So what did he say?”
Delray didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. His gaze switched from the sunflowers to Jack. “Poison.”
Jack’s heart sank. He had hoped that the cows died from some rare bovine virus, or by some other means that in no way implicated him. This was as bad as it could get. “What does this mean for the rest of the herd?”
“I found two more dead this morning. The poison was on the salt lick. Of course it might be days before we know how many more got to it before it was removed.” He snorted with contempt. “Wasn’t a very smart son of a bitch. He could’ve hurt me a lot worse if he’d dumped poison in the pond.”
“Maybe it was a warning shot.”
“Maybe.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“But that’s what you think.”
Delray’s face turned redder, and Jack thought the man should be commended for holding his temper so well, especially if he believed Jack had tried to ruin his livelihood. Leaning across the table, Jack asked, “Why would I do it?”
“Why would you drop out of the blue and ask for a job?”
“I needed the work.”
“Bullshit. I called that last guy you worked for. In Corpus. He gave you a glowing reference. Hated to lose you, he said. Wished he had a hundred like you. You had a good job but you walked off to come to work for me for half the money.” Shaking his head, he scoffed. “Doesn’t make sense. Never has.”
“It makes sense to me. I wanted a change.”
“A change.” Delray simmered for a moment, then pointed his blunt index finger at Jack. “I don’t trust you.”
“Then why did you hire me?”
“So I could keep an eye on you till I figured out your angle.”
“Have you?”
“I think so.”
Jack spread his hands wide, inviting Delray to share his conclusions.
“You’re working for that Houston outfit. That EastPark.”
Jack stared at him for several seconds, then laughed out loud. “Me? A corporate saboteur?”
“Okay, you don’t look the type. But that makes you the perfect man for the job.”
“In another lifetime, maybe,” Jack said, still chuckling with incredulity. “I told you my opinion of those greedy bastards.”
“Because you knew that’s what I wanted to hear. You were blowing smoke.”
Jack stared at him for several moments, shaking his head. “Okay, say I am connected, how do you explain the job in Corpus?”
“You were doing the same thing there. EastPark is just a slice of a big pie. Those guys are into everything. Oil and gas, real estate, computers. They even have a government contract with NASA. All that’s in the propaganda Emory Lomax gave me. That’s another thing that should have tipped me off. He started pressuring me just when you showed up. You work the inside track. They send you where they need you, when they need you. And you dress the part,” he added, glancing up at Jack’s straw cowboy hat.
Sighing, Jack eased away until he was settled against the back of the booth. He raised his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. “You’re wrong, Delray. Dead wrong.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If I’m a corporate whiz kid, don’t you think I’d be more subtle than to poison your herd just a few days after I got here? And let me tell you this: If I were out to destroy you in the hope of acquiring your ranch, I wouldn’t have fucked around like this bozo did. I would have done it right. I would have poisoned the water supply.”
Delray studied him for a long time, taking his measure, weighing his words, searching his eyes for deception. Jack held his stare. That’s why neither of them noticed the other man’s approach until he spoke.
“Hey, Delray.”
Taken unaware, Delray turned his head quickly. “Oh, hey, Sheriff Hardge. Didn’t see you come in.”
“How are you?”
“Can’t complain. You?”
“All right, I guess. Not sheriff anymore, though.”
“Right, right,” Delray said absently. “How’s retirement?”
“Can’t get used to having all this free time.” He frowned down at the gooey banana split he had ordered. “Keep this up, I’m likely to get fat.” He gave Delray a wry smile, then glanced curiously at Jack.
Delray gestured across the table. “I decided to hire on some help. He’s my new hand.”
“Jack,” he said, extending his right hand.
“Ezzy.”
“Pleasure.”
“Same.”
The hand Jack was shaking felt as rough as tree bark. The man was tall and rangy, with wide shoulders that curved inward toward a chest that had once been broad but had gone slightly concave with age. Gray hair curled from beneath a hat similar to his own. Both had seen equal amounts of wear and tear. Hardge’s face was as long as that of a basset hound, his expression as bleak.
Courtesies dispensed with, the retired sheriff turned back to Delray. “You heard anything out of Arkansas?”
“Nothing. I don’t expect to.”
“No, I don’t reckon you will. That boy has got more sense than to come this way.”
Delray clasped his hands on the tabletop. “All that happened a long time ago, Ezzy.”
“Way long. Lots of water under the bridge since then.” After a short but awkward silence, Hardge changed the subject. “Awful hot weather we’re having.”
Delray unclasped his hands and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “We could stand some rain, all right.”
The tall man looked down into the melting confection in the little plastic boat. “Well, gotta get this thing eaten before it becomes ice cream soup. Y’all take care.”
With interest Jack watched the old man leave the restaurant and climb into a decade-old Lincoln. “He looks like a sheriff.” Then his eyes moved back to Delray. “You think I poisoned your cows. Why didn’t you turn me in?”
“He’s not sheriff any longer.”
“That’s no answer.”
Delray scooted to the end of the booth and stood up. “I’m going to take some ice cream home to David and Anna.”
He walked over to the counter and placed another order. Jack waited for him at the door. Together they got back into the truck and headed toward the ranch.
Was that it? Jack thought. Did he stand accused but not yet convicted? Or had he argued his case so well that Delray dropped the charge?
Jack glanced at Delray’s stern profile. He drove with his hands positioned at ten and two o’clock, eyes straight ahead, keeping well within the speed limit. A man as strictly disciplined as Delray Corbett wouldn’t change his mind so easily. Jack figured the jury was still out.
For the time being he was still here. He would do well to leave well enough alone. But they needed to clear the air on another matter, too. “I was talking to Anna last night,” he remarked casually.
“The two of you made conversation?”
“Of a fashion. Mostly I asked questions and she signed yes or no. She wrote some things down on a notepad.”
Delray’s fingers flexed once before closing around the steering wheel again. “So what’d you talk about?”
“Her deafness. She told me she’d been deaf since birth.”
“That’s my understanding. It was a genetic defect.”
“Awful tough on a kid and her parents.”
“I didn’t know her folks. Didn’t meet Anna till Dean brought her home.”
Jack assumed a listening posture. Delray glanced at him but he didn’t start speaking again until his eyes were back on the road. “I can’t say I was too happy about it. My boy came home all excited about this deaf girl he’d met at the junior college. Sure, I admired her for attending school. College isn’t easy on kids who aren’t handicapped. Must be a real struggle for someone like Anna. She had an interpreter, but it’s gotta take guts.”
Jack stretched one arm along the back of the seat. “Kids who have to work harder at it probably appreciate it more, and might even do better because of it.”
“I know Anna did. She worked hard and got good grades. But admiring somebody for what they’ve accomplished and inviting them into your family are two different things. I admit that I was against Dean and her being together. At first. But then I got to know her and saw how crazy Dean was about her, and—”
“And if Dean was the man he should have been—and I figure he was—your opinion wasn’t going to matter.”
Delray turned his head, looking ready to challenge Jack’s comment. Then his features softened and he shook his head with chagrin. “My opinion didn’t matter. They got married and for a while were as happy as any two people I’ve ever seen. Then he decided to join the army.”
Jack let Delray tell him the rest of the story, even though he’d already heard it from Anna.
“While Dean was overseas, Anna continued her schooling. Her parents had left her enough of a legacy to pay for her education. After she finished at the junior college, she drove forty miles one way to take her upper-division courses. She was studying photography.
“But when Dean came home and got sick, she gave up school to take care of him. After he died and David came along, there wasn’t much point in her continuing her studies, I guess.”
Jack disagreed, but it wasn’t his place to say so.
“That’s when she stopped talking, too.”
Jack had been mentally arguing all the reasons why Anna should have completed her education and earned her degree. It took several seconds for him to process Delray’s last statement. When he did, he lowered his arm from the back of the seat. “Come again? Did you say that Anna used to speak?”
“She was shy about it, especially around strangers, but Dean had encouraged her to keep up her speech classes.”
Jack was still struggling with his disbelief. “She could speak?”
“Not like you and me, but pretty good. You could understand her. Actually it’s amazing when you think about it. That she could say out loud sounds she had never heard.”
This revelation left Jack shell-shocked. Whenever Anna signed, she mouthed the words. Her moving lips were an intrinsic part of her very expressive face. But she had never put her voice behind the words. “Why’d she stop? Why doesn’t she speak now?”
Delray’s shrug looked defensive. He shifted in his seat like it had suddenly become prickly. “She doesn’t need to. Fact is, some deaf people don’t want to speak and resent those who think they should learn. They rely strictly on sign language.”
“But don’t others—like Anna did—combine them?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“They sign, read lips, and speak, right?”
“I’m not an expert on deaf education.”
Jack persisted. “It must have taken years for her to develop those skills. Why did she stop using them?”
“I don’t know.” Delray’s tone was testy and his volume bordered on a shout. “Why don’t you ask Anna? Next time you two get together for a chat.”
Jack had been right. Delray was angry about what he had spied from his bedroom window the night before. Jack had seen him standing there, outlined against a faint interior light.
Darkness and distance prevented their eyes from connecting, but Jack had known beyond a doubt that Delray was looking directly at him. He also got the impression that Delray had been standing there a long time and had seen Anna leaving the barn.
Neither had moved for several seconds. Finally Delray had turned into his room and disappeared from the window.
Now he was hunched over the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, staring at the road ahead as though it were the enemy and he had resolved to conquer it. His jaw looked set in concrete. If Jack were to guess, he would say the man was angry and in emotional pain.
Quietly he asked, “How long have you loved her, Delray?”