Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) (41 page)

She crumpled to the ground.

Kate stepped toward the motionless woman, but Ramsey grabbed her. She felt the knife scratch at her own throat and reached to twist it away.

He brandished the knife in her face, his mouth against her ear. “Like to know where I got this, darlin’?”

An umbrella of dripping white light brightened the parking lot and glinted off the cars.

“Recognize it?” He flipped the knife back and forth in the waning glow.

“My uncle’s knife. You stole it from my cabin.”

He snickered.

She shuddered.

“Not me, sweetheart. It was a gift from a friend. But it’s come in handy a time or two. Which reminds me. I have a little chore to do before we leave Podunkville.” He dragged her toward the truck. Kate struggled to move the crutch and hop on one foot.

A series of flares illuminated the calves, which had quieted with their approach. They stuck their noses between the boards.

Ramsey released Kate and reached through the slats to grab a leg. “I knifed a calf at that dumb dude ranch. Now I’ll rid the world of two more stupid beasts.”

“You used
my
knife to kill Trudy?” Kate couldn’t control the anguish in her voice.

“If that was the ugly thing in the corral.”

“You’re a monster!”

“You’re the monster who killed my baby.”

She turned away.

An extra-loud explosion rattled the truck.

The bison broke from Ramsey’s grasp.

He swore and mounted the truck.

The calves squealed, hurling their bodies from one side of the truck to the other.

A scream pierced the din. “In the name of Jesus!”

Kate heard a whack, followed by a howl and a thump.

Steadying herself with one hand on the cab and the other holding her crutch, she peered into the pyrotechnic twilight, breathing gunpowder and dung.

Another boom.

She sneezed.

The bison bellowed.

Another flash.

Ramsey was on the ground. Dymple stood above him holding a crutch. He jumped to his feet, ripped the crutch from her hands and slammed her against the truck.

“Stop!” Kate flung herself at Ramsey.

***

When the sky brightened again, Mike glanced at the quilt and saw only his aunt. Something was wrong. He felt it in his gut. He yanked the guitar strap over his head, plunked his instrument onto its stand and hurried to Judith. The band could manage without him.

Judith reached for his hand. “Help me up.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Where are the others?”

She snorted. “They evidently had better things to do than keep me and the mosquitoes company.”

He picked up her cane and handed it to her. “Did they say where they were going?”

“Laura and Kate were supposed bring drinks before the fireworks started. But here I sit, dying of thirst. I’m surprised I haven’t keeled over from dehydration.”

“How about Dymple? Where did she go?”

“I have no idea.” Judith leaned heavily on the cane. “She grabbed the crutch Kate left behind and nearly broke my eardrum screaming something about someone needing her just before she took off toward the back of the bleachers.”

Mike sprinted for the parking lot.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“MOM!” MIKE DROPPED TO
his knees beside Laura. “What happened?”

She coughed. “So smoky … Kate … that man.” She coughed again. “Find him …”

“Who?”

She closed her eyes.

He felt her pulse. It was strong. At least she was alive.

Hearing the calves, he looked over at the truck just as another explosion split the air and lit the sky. Someone was standing by his vehicle. Mike got to his feet and moved closer, now hearing cursing and yelling. “That’s the last time you tell me what to do!”

Mike crouched beside a car. Looked like two people on the ground. Dymple and Kate? Or someone else? One of them sat up.

Darkness settled around them. He crawled closer and slipped behind a SUV. In the light of the next detonation, he realized he was seeing Kate. She was standing now, holding a crutch in front of her like a weapon. It was aimed at a man.

“Drop it, Neilson. You’re going with me. You belong to me.”

“You hurt my friends.”

“Forget your stupid friends. We’re leaving. Now.”

***

Kate gripped the crutch with both hands. The sheriff had said Ramsey was injured, but she’d seen no bandages, no scars. And Dymple’s hit to his backside hadn’t fazed him. His injury had to be on his abdomen. She stepped closer.

A series of furious detonations and eruptions convulsed the smoky night. The calves bounced against the rails.

Ramsey circled, the knife in his hand flashing reflected light.

Searching for an opening, Kate kept her back to the truck. “How’s it feel to be on the other side of the bars, Jerry? To wear orange instead of a uniform?”

He growled. “Shut your stupid mouth.”

“How’d you get white hair? Did one of those mean inmates scare you?”

“It’s not white, it’s—” He swore and lunged at her.

Kate jammed the crutch into his midsection, making contact. But he grabbed it and bashed her against the truck.

She held tight, fighting to stay upright.

Ramsey dropped the crutch and reached for her throat.

She thrust her forearms between his, knocking his hands apart.

But he came at her again.

And then someone, a man, was on top of Ramsey, dragging him away from her, wrestling him to the ground. They rolled at her feet, grunting and swearing.

***

Ramsey felt a lump under his shoulder and realized it was the knife he’d dropped in the dirt. Releasing his assailant, he grabbed the knife and stabbed it into the man’s body.

The other man grunted and loosened his grip.

Ramsey yanked the knife out and staggered to his feet, sucking in the acrid air. He stared at Kate, barely able to see her through the haze. He’d been willing to give her his name, to make her a legitimate woman. But she’d turned on him.

He started toward her. If it was the last thing he did, he’d make her pay. Pay for killing his kid, pay for getting him fired, pay for his time in that hellhole jail, pay for—

A field light hummed to life above him. He shaded his eyes, turned from the light and stumbled into the dark woods beyond the fairgrounds.

***

Mike sat up.

Kate was leaning against the truck, breathing hard. She looked at him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He’d worry about his arm later. “Which way did he go?” He rolled to his feet.

She pointed toward the woods.

He hurried around the other side of the truck, grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and charged after the fleeing figure. The man was yards ahead of him. Mike lengthened his stride.

He was narrowing the gap when he saw something dart from the bushes. Whatever it was collided with the fugitive. When Mike caught up to the man, he found two men grappling in the dirt—grunting and wheezing beside an overturned wheelchair.

He shined the flashlight on them, wanting to help but knowing he could make things worse for his friend. Within moments, the coach had twisted the man’s arms behind his back and wrestled the knife from his hand. The man kicked and screamed obscenities.

Coach ground his face into the dirt. “Shut up or you’ll learn what real pain feels like.”

Mike knelt next to the two men, trying to catch his breath. He slapped Coach on the back. “You made fast work of that guy.”

Coach grinned, apparently holding his struggling captive with little effort. “I always wanted to wrestle dirty.”

“How did you know what was going on back here?”

“My son had to use the bathroom, so I took him to the men’s room.” The man beneath him squirmed. Coach dug his elbow into his back, and the movement stopped. “When we came out, I saw Dymple dash behind the stands with a crutch in her hand. I had a feeling something wasn’t right—she never moves that fast, so I dropped Donny off and raced back here.”

Mike heard a noise and flashed the light at the trees. Kate, both crutches under her arms, was working her way toward them. Calling his name, she said, “Firemen are helping your mom and Dymple, and an ambulance is—”

She stopped beside him, peering at the men on the ground. Even in the poor lighting, he could see the wide grin that broke across her face. “Wow, Coach. Looks like our invisible God just did the impossible through you.”

***

Kate sat alone in the hospital waiting room, flipping through magazines. Three of her friends had been injured because of her. The medics had told her none of them sustained serious wounds. Even so, Dymple, Laura and Mike had all been attacked and traumatized by Ramsey. It had been such a good day, but it ended all wrong.

“Care for some company?”

She looked up, surprised to see Mike standing in front of her, his bandaged arm encased in a sling. She moved some magazines aside. “Have a seat.”

“I was thinking we might get some ice cream in the cafeteria. After all, it’s the Fourth of July.” He glanced at the wall clock. “For a few more minutes, anyway. I’ll buy.”

Kate stood. He hadn’t spoken a dozen words to her all day. Now he wanted to buy her ice cream. She didn’t know what to think about Mike’s sudden friendliness, but going to the cafeteria would help pass the time. “What did they say about your arm?”

“The doctor told me I was lucky. Said she’d seen a lot worse knife wounds and seems convinced my arm will be back to normal in a few weeks. So that’s good news.”

“Really good news. Thank you for tackling Ramsey. You saved my life.”

***

They ate the ice cream without speaking, until Mike dropped his spoon in his bowl. “I should have sat with you and the others to watch the fireworks. Then you wouldn’t have been attacked and Mom and Dymple wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“But you had to play in the band. Plus, Ramsey would have caused trouble somewhere, sometime. Remember, you kept him from harming me when I first arrived at the ranch. I knew he’d return, but thanks to you, I’m still alive. I had vowed to fight him to the death if he came for me again.”

“But why was he after you? I don’t get the connection—”

“Uh-oh.” Kate focused beyond his shoulder.

Mike looked behind him and then turned back, one eyebrow lifted.

“I forgot I’m on house arrest.” She watched Deputy Ramirez navigate between the empty tables.

“You’re what?”

Ramirez was all smiles. “Thought you’d appreciate knowing Mr. Ramsey’s abdominal wound was re-sutured. The doc says he’ll be ready to return to jail soon. In the meantime, we’ll cuff him to the bed and keep a close eye on him. You’ll get your day in court, Miss Neilson. With your testimony and that of others, I think it’ll be several years before he gets a chance to harass anyone again.”

Kate smiled, but she couldn’t help but wonder how Ramsey’s rage would manifest once he was released.

Mike frowned. “I’m confused. Did he escape from jail? How did he get wounded?”

“As I understand it,” the deputy said, “he was hospitalized after being knifed in county jail. The department stationed a guard by his room, but apparently the perp had help. Someone drugged the guard and slipped Mr. Ramsey out of the hospital.”

Resting his hands on the table, Ramirez leaned closer. He lowered his voice. “Off the record, I think the department owes both of you an apology for what we’ve put you through. I don’t know why Caldwell has such a bee up his bonnet when it comes to you and your ranch, Mike. But I’m going to suggest our supervisor look into the way things have been handled regarding the Whispering Pines.”

He turned to Kate. “Also off the record—I have a feeling the drugs we found in your empty cabin were planted. We did
not
find contraband in your car. However, we discovered a GPS device in the left rear wheel-well.”

“What?” Kate wrinkled her nose. “How did—?”

He straightened. “Sometimes people use GPS to keep an eye on other people’s whereabouts.”

“Oh.” So that was why Ramsey was so confident he could find her no matter where she went.

“I’m sure someone from the department will be talking to you about that.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it.”

Mike nodded and reached to shake the deputy’s hand. “Yes, thanks for the heads-up and for helping us sort through all that’s gone on.”

“No problem.” The deputy shook both their hands and left.

Kate stirred her ice cream, which was beginning to melt, thinking of all that had happened, how the crazy day wasn’t over yet, and how much she dreaded the trial. She’d have to testify, and her past would become front-page news. But then, today’s confession was probably already rolling off the presses—and tongues. As Dymple had said, transparency was a good thing. She’d been able to tell so many people, including Manuel, how God changed her life.

Mike cleared his throat.

Kate blinked. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“Gerald Ramsey. How do you know him? Why are you on house arrest.”

She scooped one last spoonful of ice cream from the bowl. Mike would think she was a total slut if she told him the truth. But she needed to be honest, even about something so shameful. Time to walk out of the dark into the light. She lifted her gaze to his unblinking stare. She missed his smile. “Do you want the short version or the long?”

***

Mike leaned back, folding his arms. “Sounds as though Ramsey is equal parts crazy and evil.” He paused. “One more question, if you don’t mind.”

Following his example, Kate folded her arms and braced herself. “Okay.”

“Why did you take our money?” He squinted at her.

She took a breath. “That’s easy to answer.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

She looked him in the eye. “Because it was there.”

He frowned.

She squirmed. “For almost as long as I can remember, if any form of money—cash, checks, credit cards and anything I could sell or pawn—was accessible, I went for it.”

“Because it was there.”

“And because I needed funds for food, rent, drugs, gambling debts—mostly drugs. I am terribly sorry I took the envelope, but I never opened it. I’m glad I didn’t know how much was in there, or it would have been harder to return.” She hesitated. “Do you have any idea how Tara and Ramsey hooked up?”