Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bethany
"Goodbye, Dad." I gave Frank a final hug in his cabin after having given him my sketch. His gruff chin scratched my cheek, and I savored the scent of him. I'd come to this ranch with the secret hope of finding my father and regaining the sense of family I'd always longed for, and now I had.
Blinking back tears, I said to him, "I'll call you when I get home. Maybe you can come out to Chicago some time to visit me. Or I can visit you wherever you end up, once you get settled of course."
"Hold on. Don't be in such a rush to go. I want to spend a little more with you, get to know more about you." He grabbed my hand and held it tight. “Let's talk a walk together.”
"I don't really have time." I'd seen William and Travis both pull into the driveway in their trucks and I knew the Hutchinsons would all be sitting down to dinner soon. It was the most special time of day, when they all celebrated each other's company, and one of the things I'd miss most about living here.
Colton was the thing I'd miss the most.
"It won't take long. I want to show you something in the forest before you go. Please, it means a lot to me." Frank refused to let go of my hand and there was a desperation in his eyes I'd never seen before.
"Okay, but I don't want to miss dinner with the Hutchinsons. It's my one chance to say goodbye to them when they're all together."
"You'll be back in plenty of time, I promise." He put his hand over his heart in a solemn vow. Reluctantly, I followed him out of the cabin and we strolled into the forest. I didn't really want to, but I hated to jeopardize the relationship we'd just begun by hurting his feelings, and so I went. After all, isn't this why I came here? To spend time with my dad?
We walked along the forest, and I recognized the path that led up to the apple tree that was Colton's favorite. Frank took me down the other trail of the path, leading down to the river. The water bubbled and flowed, and I wondered what he would possibly want to show me way out here.
We'd been walking for quite a while, and I worried that it was getting late. No doubt I'd missed most of dinner. I was about to say something when Frank said casually, "I sure do like that drawing you made of me. What did the others thing of it?"
"I already told you, I haven't shown it to anyone else. I like to keep my sketches private."
"What made you draw that particular one?" he wanted to know.
"I don't know," I said thoughtfully. "I liked the way that moment in time captured your essence, I guess. The first time I saw you, you were lighting a cigarette, and all the times we've spent together since, talking and getting to know each other, you always pause to take a smoke."
"You drew my lighter pretty damn good."
"Thanks. I hope I got the details on the bird right." The unique design had stuck in my mind, and I tried really hard to copy it exactly.
"Oh, you got it right. You have a picture of me using it that you copied?"
"No. I just drew that from memory." I swelled with pride. It hadn't been easy, and I was relieved to know I'd gotten it right.
"Did you find it somewhere and draw it from life? Maybe on the floor of the barn?" Frank sounded strangely accusatory, and some instinct in the back of my mind went on alert.
"No. I told you, I just drew it from memory," I insisted.
"That's a damn good memory you got there."
"Thanks," I said, but his words didn't sound like a compliment. He suspected me of something, but I couldn't imagine what. Maybe I drew it completely wrong after all, and it had hurt his feelings. Trying to resolve the matter, I said gently, "Let me see your lighter."
"I lost it," he snapped. So that was it! He thought I had taken it, or perhaps he was just upset that a beloved family keepsake was forever gone. After all, he had told me it was the only thing he had left that belonged to his father, and now it was missing.
"I'm sorry," I sympathized. I put a hand on his arm, but he jerked it away.
"Why'd you do it?" I didn't understand why he sounded so angry. Perhaps this was the side of him my mother had warned me to stay away from.
"Why'd I do what? Draw you?"
"Why'd you sketch me with that lighter? What are you getting at?"
Now I really didn't understand, and I was beginning to feel concerned. He wasn't acting rational and it was a little scary. If he wasn't my father, I'd be worried about being alone in the forest, but since he was, I spoke patiently and with love, "I told you, I thought it was a nice way to remember you."
"So why are you giving it to me?"
"I just thought you might like to have one of my drawings to remember me by."
"Is this a threat? Are you trying to blackmail me?"
"Of course not. What's wrong with you?" I was getting fed up with his nonsense.
"You're what's wrong with me." Frank glared at me. He was really beginning to scare me now with his odd behavior and crazy accusations. It was time to get away from him and back to where other people were around.
"Goodbye, Dad." I started to back away from him, but he grabbed me by the arm.
"Not so fast. Just where do you think you're going?"
"Back to ranch and away from you." I tried to wrench my arm free of his grip, but he dug his fingers into my flesh, making me cry out.
"You're not going anywhere," he shouted. I cried out with fear and surprise as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, aiming it right at my head.