CHAPTER 20
Guy was deep in thought, mostly about Morgan and what was to come for them, when Chappy rapped at the office door. “Hey, kid. We got a problem. Pigs all over the front lawn and wanderin’ around.”
Guy sat tall in his chair concerned by Chappy’s claim. “Pen busted again? We just fixed that!”
“Ya, got me there, boy. Got us a post down. Wanna help me fix that and get the pigs back where they go before night time critters show up, lookin’ for bacon?”
The men made their way to the front door, to wrangle the loose pigs. Chappy went ahead, while Guy quickly checked on Morgan. She was still engrossed in her movie, but it appeared she had wandered to the liquor cabinet at some point as the bottle of whiskey was next to her mug. Granny Lou must have been right and it was helping. Helping her heal or helping her forget how bad she felt…who knew.
Closing the door behind him, Guy stepped onto the porch, and nearly right into Blake.
“Whoa,” Blake put his hands out in front of him. Not just to wave off the startled reaction from Guy, but to keep him from running right into him. “It’s just me, big Guy
.”
Taking a step back, Guy had his hands on his halfcocked hips, catching his breath, and regaining his composure. A rare chuckle from Blake filled the air, as he was clearly amused by his unintentional prank, and play on words. “Thought I’d stop by and make sure everyone’s playing nice.”
Rolling his eyes, Guy motioned for Blake to follow him down the steps and into the yard.
“Haven’t seen him since the stage
. Assuming you’re talking about Duncan Haines?”
“That’d be exactly who I’m talking about. What the hell was all that? You all but lifted your fucking leg and pissed on Morgan’s. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m certain the whole town knows she’s yours
.”
“That dude just gets to me. Can’t fuckin’ stand him,” Guy said, his tone turning serious, “and I sure as hell don’t trust him. Something’s off with him. Morgan thinks he’s just protective, but I don’t know. Man…we’ve talked about this before. No sense beating a dead horse.”
“A dead what?”
“Horse…beating a dead horse. You know, rehashing old shit?” Guy explained.
“I think the saying is about beating a dead Llama, but you do you. Sounds like you’ve spent too much time with Lou. Horse…” Blake shook his head at Guy. “Look, Morgie just see’s the best in everyone until it slaps her hard in the face. Dunny is protective, but not for the reasons she thinks. He’s had a thing for her forever. All she sees though is a brother type.”
His mood lightening, Guy felt more confident where Dunny was concerned, thanks to Blake. “Is that so? No wonder he’s such a dick.”
“Funny, he said the same about you,” Blake said, crossing his arms while taking a wide stance that suggested the conversation was about to take a serious turn.
“You still don’t trust him, huh? Tell me about that. The arson report is back, that’s why I’m here, really, and there’s nothing. An accelerant was used on the west side of the building – gasoline – and it was contained to just that spot. It was as if whoever wanted that fire set, didn’t want it to burn anything of value, just create some smoke to choke on and scare the shit out of someone.”
Curiosity flooded through Guy. He leaned against the porch pillar, scratching his chin, trying to make sense of what was discovered. “So, either they knew exactly what they were doing, and just wanted to scare someone – mission accomplished. Or, they’re just really stupid and haven’t mastered being a criminal?”
Nodding his head in agreement, Blake had an impressed grin. He seemed to be impressed by Guy more often than not.
“Pretty much. Regardless of notice or intentions – it’s attempted murder. The girls, or anyone for that matter, could’ve died from the smoke alone, despite the controlled area of the fire.”
“It had to be Dunny, Blake. Come on, who else has an axe to grind and his timing with those keys was too spot on. Just like all of the other shit around here. He went right to that door…like he knew it was the only way in, and he was the only one able to open it.”
“What we think and what we know or can prove are two different things in a court of law. All I have is circumstantial evidence and a big fucking opinion.”
Guy pushed off the porch post, walking toward a group of pigs, shaking his head. “In other words – we wait for him to screw up. Come help me with these pigs. Chappy’s gotta have the pen close to fixed by now.”
“Where the hell did those come from?” Blake questioned, just noticing the roaming pigs everywhere.
“Ask Dunny.”
Blake helped corral pigs as the sun began to disappear behind the mountains in the distance. With the last rays of light guiding them around the property, they searched for the last missing animal. With the post on the pen repaired, Chappy joined them in the hunt, offering his version of a pig call. Blake and Guy played along, finding a welcomed humor in the old timer’s ways.
A distant squeal alerted them to the rogue pig, much to Chappy’s pleasure. They followed the sound, clear to the edge of the property, near the ridge that overlooked the McKenzie valley below.
Pointing in the direction he suspected, he said, “Sounds like he’s over there catching the sunset. What the hell?”
Guy had been correct in his assumption; the pig was right by the bench he made for Morgan where they had enjoyed each other’s quiet company so many nights. What he didn’t expect they would find, was the bench, in pieces, violently hacked into splinters.
“Ah shit, boy,” Chappy said, his voice taking a sullen tone. “That’s just unfortunate. Who’d do a thing like that?”
“Well, I have one guess,” Guy retorted, seething anger lacing in his words. “It has to be Dunny.”
Chappy pulled off his well-worn and tattered ball cap to run his fingers through his grey thinning hair. “Ya know, that there post on the pig yard was busted up – hadn’t thought about it in the rush to fix the darn’d thing. Ya suppose this here’s connected?”
Kicking the scraps of wood around, Guy said, “How can it not be? Shit!”
A sudden movement from Blake had the other two men’s attention. His right hand to his mouth, signaling them to stay quiet. He touched his ear with his free hand then aimed it, pointing at the darkening tree line just beyond where they stood.
Standing silent, focused on the wooded area, the evening sounds of crickets, frogs, and various creatures suddenly halted. A roaring silence surrounded them, only the light breeze dancing amongst the bristling trees played, creating an eerie sense of disarray. The muted sounds of nature spoke a story – a story that revealed that something, or someone, was lurking in the woods yet again.
With hairs standing tall on the backs of their necks and a deep guttural feeling of danger, it was evident, even if just by intuition, that they were not alone. A sharp cracking sound pierced the quiet evening, ending the standoff, launching Guy in the direction from which it came. Whatever, or whoever, stepped on the dry branches, alerting their position, was now in a dead run with Guy following the trail of sound left by their hurried movement.
“Shit! Guy!” Blake’s tone was full of unease and what sounded like something that hinted at fear. “Stop!”
A booming explosion of sound rushed through the air, paralyzing Guy in place, just in time to be tackled to the ground. His mind wandered to that place it often did in his sleep. The place that was full of flashing images loaded with an indescribable fear he couldn’t quite define.
Images, all too familiar, danced before him as they always did. It was like a playback reel that couldn’t be stopped or paused. His nightmare, it was playing, while he was wide awake…again.
Unable to escape it, day or night, he tried to fight it, but to no avail. A familiar tingle of fear, laced in imminent danger, filled his gut like a weighted block of cement. Sweat driven chills coursed over him, while a rearing horse image took over his mind.
It was different this time, slower, and he heard a voice. “Are you with me? Guy, look around. What do you see?” Blake. He heard Blake, but where was he?
“Look around Guy, what’s happening? What do you see, man?” he questioned again.
A frightened horse filled his mind. He looked down at the rearing beast only to realize he was on it. He was remembering. Feeling the cool breeze against his body, he also felt the bright sun, high and hovering over him, warming his face.
The scent of field poppies danced around a rugged earthy note, perhaps the scent of his saddle mingling with the smell of his horse. Blake’s words danced in the forefront of his mind, and he obliged the request turning his head. Turning first to the left, he saw the vast prairies full of roaming livestock in the distance.
“Whoa, Zander,” he said, calming the agitated horse.
Now looking right, for the first time since the accident and start of his nightmares, Guy saw it. There was movement in the tree line when a second crack broke through the air and the horse reared again, throwing him before it ran off. His world spinning around him, Guy felt weightless. His body was airborne, floating violently through the air. He hit the ground with such a blast of power that air was forced from him and he was left gasping, completely winded.
A sharp pain in his head overcame him, leaving him shocked and lifeless, unable to move. Lying there confused, a cold rush began to take over, but before he succumbed to the darkness trying to pull him under, he saw him. The movement in the tree line that spooked his horse, Zander, was a man. A man with a gun.
“Guy? C’mon man. Talk to me,” Blake said, full of concern.
Feeling a sudden jolt, Guy returned to the present, becoming aware of his surroundings. His body was upright rather than lying on the forest floor. Anxiety dwindled, and a sense of relaxing calm put distance between him and his nightmare. Blake and Chappy were staring at him, wide eyed, still shocked themselves.
“Wha – what happened?” Guy grabbed his head, rubbing where that sharp shooting pain had been only moments before. There was no pain, no injury; it was as if it never happened. But it had, months ago, and he had been reliving the vivid memory, yet again.
“Well, Blake here just saved ya from a bullet, boy. What was ya thinkin’ dartin’ off like that? Ya coulda been killed!” Chappy’s scolding was as much anger as it was relief, leaving an inkling of guilt for Guy.
He hadn’t intended to cause concern; he simply reacted out of instinct. Instinct to protect Morgan.
“It happened, didn’t it? Your nightmare?” Blake paused so Guy could catch on and wrap his mind around what he was saying. Blake knew. He knew about Guy’s nightmares that no longer haunted him just at night, but at any hour and for any reason.
“Doc told you.” Not a question, but a statement that brought him a raging sense of relief rather than disappointment. “He told you about the nightmares.”
Blake nodded his head, with arms crossed, finally speaking again. “It happened, didn’t it? That gunfire sent you there?”
Flooding back like a vengeful storm, the moments leading up to his episode
filled his mind. “They’re memories. I know it’s a memory now. It… It…”
Guy drifted back to that place of fear, recalling the series of events he flashed back to, including hearing Blake’s voice. “That’s why you asked me what I saw. You knew it was happening.”
“Sometimes we see, know, and remember more than we think – we just need help remembering.” There was the covert operation, top secret military stuff showing its elusive face.
A subtle guffaw escaped Guy, he rubbed at his chin, as he dug through the memory, and searched for the words he needed. “It worked. I saw him. The man that shot Zander.”
“Zander?” Chappy questioned.
“My horse – the horse you put down,” Guy directed at Blake. “ I saw a man standing in the trees. He fired twice. Both times he hit my horse. I was thrown, that’s when I was knocked out.”
“Can you describe him? Was he familiar?” Blake asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Guy looked to the night sky, through the wooded umbrellas of trees swaying above, seeking answers from the starry sky. “He was familiar, I couldn’t make out his face, but something about him… I don’t know.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Uh, dark hair maybe? Average height and build – hard to say exactly, he was pretty far away. He had on sunglasses. He wore a…red shirt.”
“A red shirt? Blake questioned. “He wasn’t trying to hide. Or, he was and didn’t know how out here. I don’t think this was poachers, or woods people. They wouldn’t have been seen so easily. It’s like your shooter waved a flag by wearing red.”
Not sure he wanted the answer, Guy asked the obvious question that hadn’t been covered yet. “So, what was this guy shooting at if he wasn’t mistaking my horse for food?” Guy finished with obvious agitation.
Looking at the ground where he was kicking a pine cone around, Blake was piecing together the clues in search for answers.
“You,” he deadpanned. “Someone was shooting at you. Given where we found you and where you saw the guy in red – there was no mistaking a horse and rider. Yet, he shot anyway. Guy, we’re looking at attempted murder here. Someone’s after you.”
For the first time since he arrived, he was desperate to know who he was and where he came from. Every broken fence, missing animals, gunshots, and the fire swam through his mind. Had he really brought all of this threatening destruction here? Was he responsible for putting Morgan in harm’s way? How did Dunny fit in to all of this now? Who was he working with and why?
“None of what is happening around here is your fault, Guy. I know that’s what you’re thinking, but Morgan has been having issues around the ranch for some time. This is bigger than just you.”
Although Guy appreciated the sentiment, he couldn’t help but feel responsible. Thoughts of their intimate night by the ridge jolted him to his feet. The bullet Bow took was meant for him. Morgan could have been killed, because of him. A sudden urge to get to her won him over.
“Morgan. I shouldn’t have left her alone,” he said, walking from the woods, to the main house.
“The gunshot tonight, that was meant for me. Why didn’t Dunny come running this time?” Guy questioned.
“You got too close, chasing him like some unarmed vigilante idiot. What would you have done if you caught him? Bone head move, man,” Blake asserted.
Chappy laughed. “That was
somethin’ boy. Next time, either leave it to the man with a gun,” Chappy tossed a thumb at Blake, “or make sure you’re invincible or somethin’.”
“Point taken. I need to check on Morgan. My gut isn’t sitting right,” Guy admitted.
“I hear ya. I want to get this down to the House,” Blake said, referring to the House where Police, Fire, and Emergency Medical operated. He was holding up a single black leather glove with a handkerchief, so as not to compromise or taint the evidence.
Sight of the eerily familiar glove spooked Guy. It was soft, rich looking leather, expensive. Was it familiar because it meant something or simply because half of the population wore black leather gloves on a regular basis?
Guy climbed the porch steps, eager to get to Morgan. The sound of a man’s low voice peaked Guy’s sense of worry, spiking it to a testosterone driven frenzy. Following the voice, he rushed to the family room where he had left Morgan sleeping just hours before.
He entered the room, hearing her words as Dunny sat awkwardly close, rolling his finger through a loose curl in her hair. Intimately close, he was leaning in like a vulture waiting for a chance at something not meant for him.
“That’s right, baby. You need me. I’m here.” Dunny said, unaware of the audience that entered the dimly lit room.
“Yes, I need you,” Morgan said her words shallow and slurred. “I love you, Guy.”
“Guy?” Dunny, cocked his head, shocked by her declaration, anger racing through him. “Guy’s a piece of shit. You want me, Dunny. Right?”
He leaned in as if readying to steal a kiss when the opportunity landed, when she said Guy’s name, once again, making it clear she didn’t know who was hovering around her, tempted to have his way with her. A lethal sense of rage took over and Guy rushed Dunny from behind. He tackled him to the floor, taking the empty mug and whiskey with him, shattering it on the wooden floor.
“You son of a bitch!” Guy spit through clenched teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Dunny stood to his feet, wiping the broken glass from him, assessing the bloody mess it made of his hands and arms. He placed a dagger flailing glare on Guy before lunging at him fueled by a tremendous amount of built up rage and fury. His shoulder down, arms around Guy’s waist, he forced him against the wall, violently knocking the air from his lungs.
“Fuck you! I’ve wanted to do this from the first day you stepped foot on this property.” Dunny took a powerful swing at Guy, landing the crushing punch on his ribs.
Guy grabbed his side in pain while Dunny recoiled his fist for another blow. Beating him to it, Guy landed a wrathful blow to Dunny’s jaw, knocking him off balance. He continued to retaliate, one punch at a time, fuming in an uncontrollable series of blows.
Blake stood by, allowing Guy to get the upper hand and put Dunny in his place, before finally stepping in, breaking up the jealousy driven brawl.
“Alright. Enough. Enough,” Blake said, stepping between the two.
Dunny clenched his fist, ready to take a cheap shot which suited him.
“Don’t even think about it, Haines.” With a warning hand extended, Blake’s verbal notice was heeded with a single look.
“I want to press charges!” Dunny shouted.
“’Way I saw it, you threw the first punch…and second. Not to mention what we walked in on.” Blake nodded toward Morgan, Chappy at her side with a glass of water. “Want to explain that?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” A smarmy grin, planted on his face, was directed at Guy. If he couldn’t take physical punches, he would throw a menacing verbal assault. “You heard her, you saw, she needs me.
”
“She said my
name, asshole. She’s sick, and looks like she’s had a few extra whiskey shots. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She thinks you’re me!”
Guy lunged at Dunny to finish what he started. The idea of him touching her, manipulating her, taking advantage of her, had him frothing in exasperated anger. Blake, however, intercepted him.
“Chappy, can you get Dunny out of here before I arrest him for…something?” Blake demanded.
“Sure thing, Coop.” Chappy tipped the rim of his hat to Blake and put a hand on Dunny’s reluctant shoulder, guiding him out of the house.
“You good?” Blake asked Guy, as he went to Morgan. “You got this?”
Guy nodded in understanding, scooping a drowsy Morgan in his arms and moved to the back of the house, toward his bedroom, without concern for Blake. He knew the way out, and Guy didn’t give a second thought about Dunny. Chappy would keep an eye on him. Guy closed his bedroom door behind him, closing off the world.
“Guy?” Morgan whispered.
“I’m here, honey.”
A subtle whimper escaped her. “I don’t feel good.”
“I know baby. I think you had too much whiskey, darlin’.”
“I drank a lot of whiskey.” She slurred her words as he sat her on the bathroom vanity counter. “I felt better for a minute. Now, not so much.”
With the warm bath steaming behind him, Morgan oblivious to his actions, Guy removed his clothing, quickly, before moving to hers. It was methodical, systematic…not intimate.
Holding her tight, he gently placed her in the warm water, climbing in behind her. He washed her, removing all traces of Dunny from her body. Ridding her of his touch, his mark, and his disgusting words from her beautiful soft olive skin. He wouldn’t let thoughts of what might have happened, had he not walked in when he had, occupy his mind. Morgan thought it was Guy, someone she was eager to be intimate with and had been intimate with.
She had a fever and drank way too much whiskey, a bad mix when an opportunistic predator was around. Dunny had been taking advantage of her out of some kind of psychopathic desperation. It was like some sort of deranged attempt to win
. But he wouldn’t win, this wasn’t a game and Morgan wasn’t the prize.
Guy loved her and would do anything for her – tonight was proof of that. If Blake hadn’t been there, a different outcome would have ensued and Guy would be without regrets.
Events earlier in the night, his vivid memory of his accident, followed by what he walked in on just moments before, solidified his every thought, feeling, and unspoken promise. He would protect her, shield her from anything sinister he brought to McKenzie Ridge, and that which he didn’t. By loving her so deeply, genuinely, completely.
She laid against him, quiet, and still while he took care of her. She whispered, “Thank you.”
With arms wrapped around her, kissing her temple, he said, “I love you – forever.”
Not bothering to dress Morgan, or himself for that matter, Guy dried them off and took her to his bed, cradling her in his arms, skin to skin. They drifted off to sleep, her in his arms where she was meant to be and he would keep her always.