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Boone's Surrender, Page 3

Shirleen Davies


  This time, the announcer had brown hair and dark brown eyes. What the…

  Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Boone shook his head, then changed the channel to bull riding. Seeing Willow tonight was playing with his mind, the same as it had for a couple nights after he’d seen her at Jenny’s memorial. He didn’t look forward to pulling the covers up tonight only to fall into a fitful sleep filled with dreams of Willow.

  He needed a good night’s rest. Tomorrow was packed. After dropping Tyler at school, he’d have to hustle back to meet Mason, who was coming by to check one of the horses. Grace would arrive soon after to work with a new rider, a woman in her fifties who’d recently divorced and needed a diversion.

  Boone could understand that. Perhaps he needed a diversion, too. Someone to take his mind off Willow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone interesting and had a date, ending with a few hours in her bed. It had to be before he’d reconnected with Jenny and gotten involved in her life. As platonic as their relationship was, he hadn’t had the urge to date. If not passionate, their time together had been filled with laughter, thoughtful discussions, and quiet evenings with Tyler. The hours he’d spent with her had meaning, much like the times he’d spent with Willow.

  A familiar pang of regret squeezed his chest. He’d felt no desire for Jenny, only a deep friendship. Willow had been different.

  They’d been friends since childhood. A tomboy, she always wanted to play with the Macklin and Taggert brothers, building tree houses, fishing, riding horses.

  He remembered the time she’d tried to sneak onto the boy’s little league team. She’d stuffed her hair into a baseball cap, pulled it low on her forehead, and worn something to hide her budding breasts. She’d stayed off by herself, appearing when the coach called for Will Robinson. At first, the boys didn’t recognize her. But with the first swing of the bat, Boone knew.

  She’d been outed by one of the other boys, leaving with a red face but her head held high. He hadn’t seen that Willow in a long time, and he missed her more than he could say.

  A flash of a memory had him getting out of the chair and walking to the bookcase across the room. In a corner, behind a family portrait, he found what he sought. An old picture of a group of boys, all holding fishing poles in one hand, the fish they’d caught in the other. In the middle stood Willow. She had the biggest catch and the widest smile of the bunch. That girl sure did love to fish.

  All those years, she’d fascinated him, made him smile. As they’d grown older, she’d made his head swim with her curves and beautiful smile. How had he not recognized his feelings for what they were? Could any man have been so blind?

  Setting the picture back, he turned toward the stairs, certain of what he wanted to do. Before the week ended, he’d call Willow, invite her to come fishing with Tyler and him. He had nothing to lose. Certainly not her friendship.

  He’d destroyed that a long time ago.

  Chapter Three

  Boone’s week didn’t improve after Tuesday.

  Mason Taggert stopped by Wednesday morning to examine one of the horses. The diagnosis of laminitis didn’t surprise Boone. Somehow, the horse had gotten into the grain storage, triggering the inflammation. Mason recommended cold packs, cold water hosing, and anti-inflammatory drugs. He also suggested corrective shoeing, which underlined the need for an experienced farrier. Mason gave Boone the name of one in Missoula and suggested calling his brother, Shane, for the name of a man he recently used.

  Not long after Mason left, Grace showed up for her training session with a newly divorced woman with little riding experience. Selecting an older mare, one Boone had often used for new riders, Grace prepared for the lesson. Most students were expected to groom and saddle the horse before their session, then remove the saddle and groom the horse afterward. When the woman arrived, she made it clear she had no intention of doing anything except riding.

  Calm under most circumstances, by the end of the hour, Grace told Boone she wouldn’t be providing a second lesson. The woman complained about everything Grace recommended, didn’t listen, and frustrated the mare. As much as they needed the income, Boone didn’t argue, saying he’d post an ad on Robinson’s bulletin board about lessons.

  An hour after Grace left, the tractor broke down, stalling his work for the rest of the afternoon, until the time came for him to pick up Tyler.

  Thursday hadn’t been any better.

  As he sat at the kitchen table Friday morning, Boone made a mental list of all he had to do. Take Tyler to school, stop by the principal’s office, pick up the tractor parts he’d ordered Wednesday, meet Thorn for lunch, visit the bank, post the flyer Grace prepared at Robinson’s. He stopped on the last.

  Willow always worked on Friday afternoons. At least she had all the years he’d been going in there for supplies. And if he remembered right, Friday afternoons were slow, most customers trying to wind up their business earlier in the day.

  Taking a sip of coffee, he winced, remembering he hadn’t added sugar—a habit he’d started after high school when he needed the caffeine, hating the taste of the plain, black brew his father always made. After his parents died in a plane crash, he hadn’t bothered breaking the habit, even with the purchase of a fancier machine and better grade of coffee.

  Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Boone stood, grabbing a pan, eggs, and bread as Tyler bounded into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Ty.” He glanced at him, seeing jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt tucked inside his pants, with a black leather belt. “You look good, son.”

  Tyler smiled, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt. “I picked them out myself.”

  Boone smiled. “You did a real fine job.”

  Within minutes, he set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Tyler, then poured a glass of orange juice. “Fifteen minutes before we have to be on our way.”

  Stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth, Tyler nodded. Leaning his hip against the counter, Boone watched his son, his heart squeezing. He wished he could speak with Jenny, ask her opinion on so many things. Most days, he got out of bed and felt adequate, doing the best he could without screwing Tyler up too much. Some days, he didn’t feel even that level of confidence.

  “Ready.” Standing, Tyler put his plate in the sink, grabbed his backpack, and ran to the front door. “Are you coming, Daddy?”

  Shaking his head, Boone grabbed his keys and hat, then followed his son outside. Fifteen minutes later, Tyler climbed out of the truck and waved goodbye, disappearing inside the school. A few minutes later, Boone sat in the principal’s office, feeling the same sense of unease he had at Tyler’s age.

  “I understand Tyler lost his mother a few months ago.” The principal leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk, a smirk on his face. “And you’re his guardian, Mr. Macklin? Isn’t that a little overwhelming to a single man?”

  Boone had explained all of this to the original principal when he enrolled Tyler in school. Unfortunately, she had a family emergency, forcing her to take a leave of absence. Boone hoped she’d return soon.

  “I am. Jenny, his mother, and I were friends. He has no other relatives.”

  The principal shook his head, snorting. “So you agreed to take custody?”

  “Absolutely.” No matter how inadequate Boone felt some days, he wasn’t going to spill his uncertainties to anyone except his family. “I came in to let you know I spoke with Ty. He knows shoving the boys was wrong, but he also understands if he’s bullied again, he’s to tell me.”

  The man leaned closer. “We don’t condone any type of violence, Mr. Macklin. If I hear of any, I’ll call the police or the sheriff.”

  “I can understand that, but I want to be clear. I don’t condone bullying and harassment. If you can’t get those boys to stop, I’ll call their parents and we’ll work it out between us.” Standing, Boone settled his hands on the desk. “Ty is a good boy, and I’m going to be an involved parent.” Reac
hing into a pocket, he pulled out two business cards, setting them on the desk. “If there’s a problem and you can’t reach me, these are my brothers. They and their wives are on the list of those approved to speak on my behalf and take Ty home.” Straightening, he walked to the door, opening it, then turned back to the principal. “I just want you to know I’m not alone in this. Ty has a whole family supporting him.”

  Closing the door behind him, Boone strolled out of the building. He’d met men like the new principal before. Smug, condescending, and self-righteous—all the qualities Tyler didn’t need to learn at his age.

  Climbing into the truck, he pulled onto the street, stopping to pick up the tractor parts he’d ordered, then made quick trips to the bank and dry cleaner. If he hurried, Thorn would be walking into Evie’s Diner as Boone pulled into the parking lot. Patting his pocket, he felt the flyer Grace made up offering riding lessons. Robinson’s would be his last stop.

  “You have a call, Sheriff.”

  “Thanks, Bobby.” Del took off his hat as he stepped into his office and closed the door before picking up the phone. “Macklin.”

  “Del, it’s Nev McNabb.”

  Relaxing in his chair, Del grinned. “Hey, Nev. How’re you doing?”

  Neville McNabb was the sheriff in a neighboring county. A good man, one he could depend on if he ever needed help.

  “Truthfully, I’ve been better. That’s why I called.”

  Del sat forward, picking up a pen, then pulling a pad of paper out of a drawer. “Talk to me.”

  “Two children in the last three days have gone missing in my county. Girls. One age twelve and one fourteen.”

  “Same family?” Del asked.

  “No. And these aren’t cases of a divorced parent grabbing them. Mother and father are together in both families. The girls live about three blocks from each other.”

  “Amber alerts?”

  “No. Other than the girls being missing, we don’t have sufficient information for an alert. No make or model of a vehicle. No description of who may have taken them. I’ve got a friend with the FBI, but we have nothing to indicate they may have been taken over state lines.” Nev blew out a breath. “Can I send you their descriptions?”

  “Of course. I’ll pass them around the office and give them to a detective I know on the local police force. I’m sure he’ll get the word out, too. What else can I do?” Del read over his notes, setting down his pen.

  “Nothing for now. I just wanted to let you know and ask you to be on alert. One family already has a private detective working for them. A little green, but she seems okay.”

  “A woman?” Del asked.

  “Last I checked. Anyway, I need to get going. I’ll send over what I have within the next few minutes.”

  Del set the phone down, rubbing his chin. He knew drug smugglers used Montana to transport product between the United States and Canada. The northern part of the state was vast and sparsely populated, perfect for people wanting to move anything illegal between the countries. Like other states, Montana also had its share of human trafficking, much of it involving children and women.

  Opening his email, Del saw the documents from Nev. He read through them, printing enough copies for everyone in his office, giving a set to each of his deputies, along with a brief explanation. Returning to his office, Del picked up the phone, dialing the local police department.

  “Rick, it’s Del. Do you have time to talk?”

  “Sorry I’m late.” Thorn slid into the booth opposite Boone at Evie’s Diner. “A new client came in and wanted to order a couple custom bikes. One for him and one for his son. Did you already order?”

  “Just a couple sodas.”

  “Hello, boys.” Evie walked up. “You’re both looking fine today.”

  Thorn rested an arm across the back of the booth. “Okay, out with it, Evie. Are you looking for donations to the football boosters, science club, or…”

  Grinning, she shook her head. “Can’t a girl be nice and not be looking for something?”

  “No,” Thorn and Boone answered in unison.

  “All right, you got me. We’re having a fundraiser for the abused women’s shelter.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out four tickets. “Two each. Only $30 per ticket.”

  Thorn cocked his head to the side. “And?”

  Evie huffed out a breath, looking between them. “Fine. How about gift certificates for motorcycle accessories at Scorpion and one riding lesson?”

  “Done.” Thorn reached into his pocket, pulling a hundred and twenty cash from his wallet. “For the tickets. I’ll get you a gift certificate from the shop and have Grace make one up for an hour lesson. Now, can we order lunch?”

  Snatching the money from Thorn’s hand, she smiled. “Two cheeseburgers with fries. And yes, I know what each of you like on them.” Turning on her heel, she walked behind the counter.

  “Is it my imagination, or is Evie getting cockier in her old age?” Boone picked up his soda.

  “Be careful, bro. She and I are the same age.”

  Lifting a brow, Boone tilted his glass toward his brother. “There you go.”

  Thorn grimaced, shaking his head. “And you owe me sixty bucks for the tickets. Now all you have to do is find some girl to go with you.”

  “And a babysitter.” Boone picked up one of the tickets, checking the date. “It’s over a month away. Plenty of time for me to find some unsuspecting woman and bring her along.” He let out a breath, his mood sobering. “Do you have time to talk?”

  Thorn’s features stilled. “I always have time for you and Del.”

  Boone smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And Grace.”

  “Well, yeah. I value my life. What’s going on?”

  “Here you are. Two cheeseburgers. Anything else?”

  “This will do it, Evie. Thanks.” Thorn waited until she’d walked back behind the counter, then looked back at his brother. “Talk.”

  Boone picked up his burger, took a small bite, then set it down. “It’s about Willow.”

  “Okay. What about her?”

  Scrubbing a hand down his face, Boone shook his head. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Thorn shook his head. “Let’s have Evie wrap up our food and head to the park. This sounds like something that needs time and more privacy.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they sat on a park bench, unwrapping their food.

  “When I first got back to town, I’d come here several times a week.” Thorn chuckled. “Grace and I used to come here in high school. Anyway, one day Grace was here when I arrived. Turned out to be one of the best days of my life.”

  “You and Grace started seeing other again after that, right?”

  “Close enough. Anyway, tell me what’s going on with you and Willow.”

  “Nothing’s going on now. It’s about what happened a few years ago. I should’ve told you when you got out of the army, but there never seemed to be a good time.”

  Thorn held his hand up. “Does Del know?”

  “I told him a few months ago, before Jenny died.” Grabbing his drink, he gulped half of it down. “Del was running for sheriff and you were overseas when all this happened. Willow and I started seeing each other. I knew she loved me. Hell, I’ve always known how she felt, but I wasn’t ready to accept it. We’d been seeing each other a few months when she stopped by one night.” He glanced at his brother. “She was pregnant.”

  Thorn set down his burger, waiting for Boone to continue.

  “I told her I’d marry her. You know, do the right thing. She, uh, asked if I loved her…” His voice trailed off, his mind going back to that night and the hopeful look on her face. “I told her I didn’t. Willow told me to forget she came by. She’d rather be a single mother than live in a house with a man who didn’t care.” Shredding fingers through his hair, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “She got into the truck and took off. A few miles down the road, a drunk driver
crossed over the line, sending her truck into a ditch.” Burying his face in his hands, he shook his head. “She lost the baby.”

  “Holy…” Thorn stood, pacing a few feet away before turning. “She blames you.”

  “Willow never said that, but I know she does. With all the privacy laws, she was able to keep it from her parents.”

  “Does Greg know?” Thorn knew Greg, Willow’s brother, growing up. The same as Thorn, Greg had joined the army shortly after graduating high school.

  “I don’t know, but I think so. They were always tight, especially with their parents taking care of Greg’s daughter when he’s deployed.”

  Thorn sat back down, staring at the creek winding around the perimeter of the park. “Did you try talking to her after the accident?”

  “I tried to get her to talk to me for months, but she never returned my calls. I went to her house, but she refused to open the door. When she returned to work, I tried to make an appointment to meet with her. Again, silence.”

  Nodding, Thorn clasped his hands together. “Why is it so important now? Does it have anything to do with Ty?”

  “No.” Boone stared into the distance. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. All I know is I lied when I told her I didn’t love her.”

  Thorn mumbled a curse. “You do love her?”

  Boone glanced at him, nodding. “For a long time. For whatever reason, I could never admit it. Even when she told me about being pregnant. Why couldn’t I have just told her? You did with Grace. Del did with Amy. What’s wrong with me that I can’t say the words?”

  Thorn clasped him on the shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Boone. You’re one of the best men I know.”

  “Then why?”

  “Are you asking for my opinion? Because that’s all it would be.”

  “Your opinion would mean a lot to me.”