Chapter Eleven
Dal drove Meadow back to her house and went inside with her to look at the handout she’d made of the thief.
She gave one to Dal. He studied it with a frown.
“Recognize anything about him?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think I’ve seen that coat somewhere.”
“Was there ever an art supply store in town?” she asked suddenly.
“Sure, years ago,” he told her. “Markson bought it out and turned it into an antique store.”
“He might have seen a canvas bag like that one in the sketch,” she said excitedly. “I’ll drive back over there tomorrow and ask him. Thanks!”
“Oh, I’d do anything to help,” he said. “I’d like to have that desk back before it ends up in an auction back east. It has a history. But it’s mostly the sentiment that matters to me. My grandmother loved it.”
She smiled at him. “She must have been a sweet woman.”
“She was. Like you.” He grimaced. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I said to you about that desk. It wasn’t worth Snow’s life.”
“You didn’t know she was hurt,” she said.
“I didn’t listen,” he replied. “I tend to fly off the handle at the best of times. I’m truly sorry about what happened.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I just hope we can find it. We’ve got flyers out everywhere, even on the Internet.”
“Even if it goes the way of the Victorian lamp and the pipe organ that were stolen, I’m just glad Snow’s going to be all right.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
“I wonder,” he started, “if we might . . .”
Before he could finish the sentence, a noise outside caught their attention.
A truck roared up into Meadow’s driveway and slid to a halt. Dal and Meadow went out to meet the driver.
“We can’t find Todd,” one of Dal’s cowboys called. “He went down to the Davis cabin to check on the old man. He left there in his truck, but we found it beside the road a mile from the ranch. There were no tracks off the road, anywhere!”
“I’ll be right there,” Dal said. He turned to Meadow. “He has a wife and a five-year-old son. I have to go.”
“If I could help, I would.”
“Nothing you could do, sweetheart,” he said softly, and bent to kiss her warmly. “Go back inside.”
“Call me when they find him. Please?”
He nodded. He strode to his truck and took off, following the other cowboy out into the road.
* * *
Todd was one of Dal’s favorite hands. He was thrifty, meticulous, and one of the best horse wranglers Dal had ever worked with. He was never late for work, never absent a day. To have him missing was disturbing, especially since there were no tracks.
Dal pulled in behind Larry, his top hand, and cut off the engine. He grimaced at the complication that had just presented itself. Charity Landers and her little boy, Pete, were sitting on Dal’s porch. Todd’s family.
They came running when they saw Dal.
“We have to find him,” Charity said in a rush. “The snow’s so deep . . .” Her voice broke.
“Where’s my daddy?” Pete asked Dal, and pale blue eyes looked up at him with absolute trust. “You’ll find him, won’t you, Mr. Blake?”
The child fascinated him. He’d seen the little boy around, gone to the christening. But this was something new. The child loved his father, and it showed. Dal had never thought about a child of his own before.
“We’ll find him, Pete,” he promised, and hoped he could keep the promise.
Just as he finished speaking, a car came up the road and stopped at the house. Todd climbed out, thanked the driver, and walked to the porch, where he was smothered with kisses by his wife and son.
“We thought you were dead or something!” Charity wailed.
“Daddy, we was scared!” Pete cried into his dad’s throat as he was held close. “I love you so much, Daddy!”
“I love you, too, son.” He kissed Charity. “Now, now, I’m fine. The damned truck quit. I had to hitch a ride into town to get a wrecker, then the trucks were both out, so I had to hitch a ride back home . . .” He paused. “Sorry, Dal, I left the truck parked on the highway, but they said they’d send the first wrecker they had free—lots of people stuck in the snow, he said. I’ll have to go back and wait for it.”
“Larry can go,” he said, and nodded to the other man, who threw up a hand and ran for his truck. “You take your family and go home.” He chuckled. “You’ve had enough adventures for one day.”
“Gosh, thanks, boss,” Todd said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re welcome.”
Pete wriggled to get down. He walked over to Dal and held out his little arms.
Dal picked him up, amazed at the perfection of that small face up close.
“Thanks, Mr. Blake,” he said, and hugged the big man.
Dal hugged him back. It was the most amazing feeling, that tiny body so trusting in his arms. The child was a reminder of what he’d been running away from most of his adult life. He found that he liked the idea of a son.
He laughed and put the boy back into his father’s arms. “Nice kid,” he told Todd.
“We think so. Night, boss.”
“Thanks, Mr. Blake,” Charity added.
“You’re welcome.” He waved them off.
The child was on his mind when he drove back down to Meadow’s house.
She came out onto the porch. “Did you find him? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine,” he said, following her into the house. “The truck quit and he had to hitch a ride into town to get a wrecker. Forgot his cell phone.” He laughed. “I’ve done that a time or two myself.”
“And here I thought you were perfect,” she teased.
He lifted both eyebrows. “Well, in some ways I am,” he murmured with a long look at her figure that spoke volumes.
She flushed.
“Coffee?” he asked hopefully, smiling. “It’s cold out there.”
“I can make a pot,” she said. “No cake, but I have cheese and crackers.”
“Even better,” he replied.
* * *
They sat eating cheese and crackers in a companionable silence.
“Got your pregnant heifers up?” he asked.
She nodded. “Dad’s foreman is really good at his job. All I needed to do was stand aside and let him do it.” She shook her head. “I almost made a mess of things. I would have asked you for help, but . . .”
“But I was being tiresome,” he answered for her. He smiled. “I’m reforming as we speak,” he promised. He nibbled a cracker. “Todd’s little boy came running when his dad showed up. He was bawling.” He shifted in the chair. “I never thought about kids,” he added. “In fact, I’ve spent most of my adult life running away from ties.”
She didn’t speak. She just waited.
He noticed that, and smiled. “I enjoyed playing the field. But after a while, they all look alike, sound alike.” He shrugged. “Even Dana. She was sweet and I was fond of her, but I never pictured her wearing an apron, surrounded by little kids.”
“I don’t think she likes kids, from what Jeff’s said about her,” she replied.
“He’s the same way. They’re the sort who’d travel, if they had money. They think alike.”
She nodded.
He studied her. “You were seventeen when you fell into the coal bin,” he recalled. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I reacted so badly to the way you were dressed that night?”
She blinked. “Well, once in a while,” she confessed.
He stared at her evenly. “You were lovely, even at that age. I wanted you. But I knew your father would kill me if I tried anything. You were years too young anyway.” He sighed. “I backed away and kept backing away, especially after he told me how competitive you were around men.” He laughed hollowly at her expression. “It was a lie, and I didn’t realize it. He was trying to protect you from me.”
“I guess so,” she said. “You had quite a reputation.”
“I still do,” he said, and he was somber. “It will take some time to redeem it in the eyes of local people. But I’m not running anymore, Meadow,” he added quietly. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my life. I want a family.”
Her eyebrows were arching. She felt her forehead. “I don’t think I have a fever. How can I be hallucinating?”
“Stop that,” he said. “I’m serious.”
“Me too. What have you done with Dal Blake?”
He chuckled. “I guess I don’t sound like myself.” He cocked his head. “Suppose you and I start going out together? We can even go to church next Sunday.”
She caught her breath. “The minister will pass out in the pulpit.”
“Probably, but if he does, more people will show up the next Sunday out of curiosity.” He chuckled.
“Are you really serious?”
He pushed away from the table, got up, picked her up in his arms, and dropped into a cushy armchair in the living room.
“Let me show you how serious I am,” he murmured as he bent to her mouth.
* * *
With a little advance warning, she might have saved herself. But he was so familiar to her, so dear to her, that she didn’t have a single defense. He drew her up, wrapping her against him, while he made a meal of her soft, parted lips.
She linked her arms around him and gave in to the sweetest temptation she’d ever known. She didn’t protest, even when she felt his lean hands go under her blouse, against soft, warm flesh.
“No maidenly protests?” he murmured against her mouth.
“Depends,” she managed to say.
“Depends on what?”
“On whether you want children right now.”
He lifted his head. “What?”
“Well, I don’t know beans about precautions, despite all those lectures I survived in high school and college,” she said.
He chuckled. “Point taken.” He bent again. “So we’ll just maul each other a little bit and I’ll go home and have a cold shower.”
She pressed close, loving the warm strength of him against her, the slow tracing of his fingers against her breasts inside their lacy coverings. He was potent. She hadn’t realized just how experienced he was until she was almost ready to plead with him to undress her.
Unexpectedly, she had an ally. A big, bushy red tail interposed itself between Dal’s mouth and her nose.
He tried to get past it, but it kept slapping Meadow’s nose.
She drew back a breath. “Dal? There’s a furry cushion on my lap.”
“I noticed.” He kissed her again.
“Dal, it’s not moving.”
He chuckled. “I noticed.” He sat back and drew in a breath. “Jarvis, you pest, how did you get in?”
“Dog door,” she said, brushing her mouth over his nose.
“It was a rhetorical question,” he murmured.
“That was a rhetorical answer.”
“Jarvis!” he groaned as the big red cat banged him in the chin with his head, purring all the while.
She petted the big cat. “He’s just jealous.”
“Of whom? You or me?”
“That’s a very good rhetorical question . . .”
She sat up, her eyes wide and blank.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Jarvis. Blood on his claw. Scratch on Mike Markson’s son’s cheek. Antique store. Former art supply store. Canvas bag . . .”
“My God!” Dal exclaimed as she shot off his lap. “It was right under our noses the whole time!”
She was already diving for her phone and dialing. Jeff answered on the first ring.
“Slow down, slow down.” Jeff laughed. “Start over.”
She did, listing the facts that had suddenly jelled in her mind. “It’s got to be him!”
“I never even connected the bag,” he replied. “Okay, I agree that we’ve got probable cause, but we can’t do a thing without a search warrant. And I don’t want to go waltzing into Markson’s store unless I’m sure what we’re looking for.”
“I’ll write up everything I know,” she said. “Meanwhile, is there any way we can get back the DNA results on that blood Gil sent off?”
“I’ll make a few phone calls. I do know someone at the state crime lab.”
“All right!”
“Meanwhile, I’ll get Gil back in here and have him put together all the facts he’s gleaned about the antiques that were stolen earlier.”
“Gary hasn’t had time to travel anywhere. Odds are that the desk is still in his possession,” she said. “Probably right there in the store.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. But we won’t say anything. I don’t want to spook him.”
“His poor father,” Meadow said sadly.
“He’ll get over it. We can’t let the boy get away with this.”
“I know. It’s just sad,” Meadow said.
Dal pulled her close against his side. She said she’d meet Jeff at the office first thing in the morning and hung up.
“I solved a crime,” she said, all eyes.
He chuckled. “Indeed you did.” He bent and kissed her nose. “I’m proud of you. It’s just . . .” He sighed.
“Just what?”
He cocked his head. “Despite that cool sheriff in the movie Fargo who was solving crimes with a belly the size of a basketball, I really wish you could consider a less dangerous line of work. While you’re pregnant, at least.”
Her eyebrows arched. “I’m not pregnant.”
He pursed his lips and his dark eyes twinkled. “Yet.”
Her lips parted. She didn’t know quite what to say.
“I’ll go through my grandmother’s rings tonight when I get home,” he said softly. “She had four different engagement rings because she couldn’t decide on just one. She had all the money in the family. So what do you like best, emeralds, rubies, sapphires or diamonds?”
“Rubies,” she said at once.
“I’ll bring the ring down to your office in the morning and we’ll have a late breakfast, after you’re through solving crime. Okay?”
Her heart soared. “Okay!”
He lifted her up against him and kissed her hungrily. “I’m not leaving because I want to,” he whispered. “But it is a small community, and I don’t want people casting doubts on that spotless reputation your father was so proud of.”
“Thanks,” she whispered back.
He grinned as he let her go. “See you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
“When can we bring Snow home?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.” She glanced toward the door, where Jarvis was sitting. “Is he staying?”
“I don’t know. Are you staying?” he asked the cat.
Jarvis looked up at him, meowed, and went trotting back to Meadow. She just laughed.
* * *
The next morning, armed with a search warrant, Meadow, Gil, Jeff, and an assistant district attorney presented themselves at Mike Markson’s store as soon as he unlocked it.
He ground his teeth when they handed him the warrant.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” Jeff said quietly. “Is Gary here?”
He drew in a long breath. “He was up late last night making phone calls out of state,” the old man said sadly. “He’s sound asleep.” He grimaced. “He did it, didn’t he? I suspected, but I didn’t really want to know.” He swallowed. “The writing desk is in his room. I was going to call you. I couldn’t let him get away with stealing something so precious.”
“Did you know about the other thefts?”
Mike shook his head. “He’s my son. I love him, even if he’s done bad things. But I won’t harbor a thief in the business I’ve spent my life building up.”
Jeff put a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Has he ever been in trouble with the law?”
Mike shook his head. “Not even a parking ticket.”
Jeff smiled. “Get him a good lawyer. He can plead first offender status. If he keeps his nose clean, his record will be wiped.”
“Really?” Mike’s face brightened. “Really?”
The assistant district attorney turned to him. “Yes. Really. But he’ll have to be put on probation, and it won’t be an easy ride.”
“I’ll make sure he does what he’s supposed to,” Mike said firmly. “I messed up once with him. Never again.”
Jeff and Meadow smiled.
“Let’s go talk to him,” Jeff said.
* * *
Gary wasn’t really surprised to see his visitors. He gave up without a struggle. He even confessed to the thefts and offered to give the names of his buyers. He was taken to detention, booked, and assigned to a cell pending arraignment.
“Didn’t that work out unusually well?” Gil asked with a chuckle when they were back in the office.
“I know something else that’s going to work out unusually well,” Meadow mused as she watched Dal come in the door.
“Hi,” Jeff said.
“Hi. I came to steal your deputy for a late breakfast.”
“But we hardly know each other,” Gil protested. “And you haven’t even brought me flowers!”
“Shut up,” Dal muttered. “I’m not taking you anywhere. Your socks don’t match.”
Gil looked down and grimaced. “Not my fault. I didn’t have the lights on when I got dressed.”
“He’s taking me out to breakfast,” Meadow pointed out.
“Yes, and he’s proposing,” Dal added, holding out an open jeweler’s box. “You said rubies, I believe?”
Meadow caught her breath. She’d envisioned a small stone in a small ring. This was a wedding band studded with rubies and a solitaire that looked to be about two carats.
“Will you?” Dal asked with a warm smile.
“Will I?” she stammered.
“Well, if you want the works . . .” He led her to a chair, seated her, went down on one knee, removed his wide-brimmed hat, and said, “Miss Dawson, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She threw her arms around him. “Yes. Yes! Yes!”
“I think that means she will,” Gil translated.
Jeff and Gil laughed. Meadow fought tears. She’d loved the silly man half her life, and here he was, offering her the one thing in the world she wanted most. She wondered if she could die of happiness. But she didn’t want to find out!
* * *
So they were married, at Christmas. Snow came home, with some lingering neurological issues that eventually resolved themselves. She and Jarvis the cat curled up together to sleep and never had a single argument that drew blood.
Gary did get first offender status. The items he’d stolen were recovered, including Dal’s writing desk, and returned to their rightful owners. Gary got his act together, went back to school, and became an asset to the community, to the delight of his father.
Dal and Meadow found they had more in common than they’d ever dreamed. Tangled together in Dal’s big king-sized bed, Meadow fought to catch her breath after a first time that exceeded her wildest dreams.
“Gosh!” was all she could manage.
He chuckled. “Now you see why I had to practice so much in my younger days,” he teased, looming over her. “I was getting ready for you.”
“Awww,” she drawled. “That’s so sweet.”
He moved down against her, his mouth moving lovingly against hers. “And that’s what I love most about you, Mrs. Blake,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That you never throw my past up to me,” he said solemnly. He lifted his head. “I’ll make you a solemn promise, too, Meadow,” he added. “I’ll never cheat on you. Not if we’re married for fifty years.”
She smiled and kissed him. “Okay.”
“But you’re going to see a doctor and find out why you keep falling,” he said sternly.
She curled back into his arms and slid one long leg around his. “It’s nice that you care about me,” she whispered.
“It’s nice that you care about me, too,” he said, and kissed her again. He rolled her onto her back, slid between her legs with a husky chuckle, and proceeded to coach her in the art of mutual pleasure. It took a long time. And eventually, it produced a sweet result: their first son.
The doctors discovered a minor lesion in Meadow’s brain that accounted for her clumsiness. There actually was a physical reason for it, and a treatment. Knowing that it wasn’t a brain tumor or something likely to kill her made it bearable. It stemmed from the concussion she’d had in her teens, an accident that she’d never realized would have such far-reaching repercussions.
Dal worried about her job in law enforcement. He never asked her to quit, but she knew him very well. Her clumsiness could lead, so easily, to tragedy under the wrong circumstances. So she had a long talk with the sheriff and the district attorney. And soon afterward, she had a new job.
By the time their son, Teddy, was a toddler, Meadow was comfortably working as an assistant district attorney, having put away her badge and gun for a future less dangerous and more satisfying than the law enforcement career she gave up. The following year, she gave birth to a second son, whom they named Seth. Their ranches combined to form one huge conglomerate, with Dal at the helm. So she and Dal lived happily ever after on a ranch in Colorado, with their sons, and Snow and Jarvis—and a few thousand head of cattle. And celebrated many wedding anniversaries at Christmas. Meadow finally had her snow man . . .