Chapter Fourteen
Kira joined Shay over in the kitchen at Noah’s house. Dair felt completely cosseted by the two women. It was Harper’s calm under fire that helped the situation as well. He carefully checked Dair out medically, from the swelling and bruising on her right cheekbone, to gently palpating and moving her right knee around. He went to the bathroom and found some sterile pads and a tube of antibiotic gel, and cleaned up her scratched cheekbone.
“I’m not putting a bandage on it,” he told her as he crouched next to her chair, taking care of the area. He looked up at Shay, who was distraught. “Can you get me a cloth and fold some ice cubes into it for Dair?”
“Of course,” Shay whispered, turning and hurrying into the kitchen.
Kira came around and knelt down on one knee, her hand on Dair’s dusty thigh. “What can I do for you, Dair?”
“I need some clean jeans,” she muttered, frowning.
Kira rose and said, “I’ll get them from your bedroom and help you change when you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Dair said.
“How about a stiff drink?” Harper teased.
“No thanks. Crawford is drunk enough for all of us.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Kira said, coming back with a clean set of jeans in her hands as she halted and looked toward them. “I was in my office translating a letter into Arabic.”
“Just as well,” Dair muttered.
“Crawford’s crazy,” Harper growled. “He’s a loose cannon around here.” And then he glanced up as Shay returned with the cloth and ice cubes. Giving her a look of apology, he added, “I’m sorry, but your father has crossed a line.”
“Yes,” she whispered, apologetic as she handed Dair the cloth to press against her swollen cheekbone, “he has. We need to try and get the court restraining order to stop him from ever returning back here.”
“What got into him?” Harper demanded, finishing his care for Dair. He stood up, scowling over at Shay.
“This has been coming on for a while,” she said. “We were going to talk about it tonight at our weekly Friday meeting.”
Snorting, Harper went to the sink and scrubbed his hands with soap and water. “We still will.”
Dair saw how devastated Shay was. “I’m really sorry this happened. Your father just came out of nowhere. I didn’t even see or hear him coming.”
Reaching out, Shay touched her shoulder. “I am, too, and this was not your fault, Dair.”
Lowering her voice, Dair asked, “Was your father like this with you and your mother?” She saw pain flit across Shay’s darkened blue eyes.
“Yes, all the time.”
“That’s horrible,” Dair growled, reaching out and touching Shay’s arm. She wore a lavender knit sweater with a pair of jeans. “I’m so sorry. This whole situation has to be hell on you, Shay.”
Kira said, “Clean clothes are ready. Can I help you change?”
Dair nodded her head. “Yes, I can use a little help.”
Harper came over and said, “I’m going to go to your father’s house, Shay. That’s where Reese and Noah are staying with him until the sheriff, Sarah Carson, arrives. If you need me, just give me a call.”
Shay nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
Dair felt sad for Shay, seeing the desolation in her expression as she turned and walked to the mudroom, gathering up her jacket and winter gear. Harper followed. Soon enough, they were gone and the house became quiet.
“I’ll stay with you after we get you changed into clean jeans,” Kira said, “if that’s all right?”
“Yes, I’d like that. We still have to finish feeding all the horses, Kira.”
“Well, why don’t we do that once we get you into a set of clean clothes? I’ll leave a note on the door so Noah knows where we’re at. Fair enough?”
Dair liked the woman vet’s attitude. Kira never tried to coddle her as Harper did. Giving her a faint smile, she handed her the cold cloth. “My cheek feels better. Can you put that in the sink? I’ll take care of it later after we get done feeding the horses.”
“Sure.”
It didn’t take Dair long to get rid of her dusty jeans and trade them in for a clean pair. She washed her hands in the sink and then wheeled out into the living room, where Kira was standing by the picture window, the drapes pulled aside.
“I just saw two sheriff’s cars pull up at Ray’s home,” she said over her shoulder. “Sarah Carson is with them. That’s good.”
“Who’s Sarah?” Dair asked, wheeling over and seeing the two vehicles parked outside Crawford’s home.
“She is the sheriff of Lincoln County, where we live,” Kira said. “A really cool woman. She’s the only female sheriff in Wyoming.”
Eyes narrowing, Dair saw two deputies emerge from each car, four in total. She saw Reese meet them at the door, gesturing for them to come into Crawford’s house.
“Hey!” Kira said, suddenly excited. “Look! Garret’s here! He just drove in!”
Dair grinned. “Did you know when he was coming home?”
Kira laughed. “Not really, just sometime today. Will you be okay for a bit? I want to go meet him. He doesn’t know what’s going on and when he sees the sheriff’s cars in the driveway, that’s going to send him into a big worry.”
“Go ahead,” Dair urged her. “I’ll be fine here.”
Kira leaned over, gently hugging Dair. “I’ll be back in a bit. I’m sure Sarah or one of her deputies will be over here to take your statement. Noah will be with them.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “Go see your guy.”
Kira gave her a silly grin. “He’s been gone all week, Dair. I swear, I’m gonna hogtie that Spec Forces guy to the bedroom bedposts and not let him out of the room for at least two days! You may not see us for a while!”
Laughing, she watched Kira hurry to the mudroom, grab her winter gear, and take off out the door. She watched through the picture window, warmth in her chest as Kira ran full tilt up the slight slope, past all the houses, to the main parking lot where Garret had just parked his big three-quarter-ton truck. It was nice to see something beautiful and loving in lieu of what she’ d just experienced with Crawford. Moving her hand over her swollen cheek, which was starting to throb, Dair missed Noah’s calming presence.
As she sat there, she saw Garret Fleming get out of the truck, a hard look on his face. His expression changed to one of vulnerability when Kira flew up into the parking lot, arms wide open. Dair smiled softly. Garret was a big man and Kira was so tiny in comparison. He lifted her off her feet, twirling her around, kissing the daylights out of her. Dair wanted to do the same to Noah. That kiss . . . that kiss meant everything to Dair. It was soft, tender, and exploratory. She loved Noah’s softer side. After her father was so abusive to her and her mother, she didn’t want a man who was all brawn and force. She watched Garret gently set Kira down on her feet, his arm around her shoulders to steady her. They kissed again. For a long, delicious time.
Dair couldn’t imagine her life without Noah in it. She’d become so accustomed to him being in the house. He made her feel at peace, and that wasn’t something she felt often, except at her grandmother’s home. There, she always felt safe and calm. Noah gave her so much, much more. For a moment, Dair felt shaky inside. She recognized the reaction too well. When she was a WMD dog handler and they were out with Special Forces black ops teams, the danger was always high. After completing the mission, she’d let Zeus sit between her legs while they were being helicoptered on a MH-47 back to base. And then, her insides would turn into trembling jelly in response to not dying, but living. It was a delayed reaction to the danger they faced daily.
Pushing strands of hair off her uninjured cheek, Dair watched as Garret and Kira walked to Crawford’s house and disappeared inside. She didn’t want to be over there. Crawford was an angry drunkard. A mean one. Feeling so very sorry for Shay, she now understood clearly what the other woman had grown up with. And Shay was so damned kind and caring with everyone else. She could have turned into an abuser like her father, and carried that sickness through the family line, but she hadn’t. Shay had taken that experience and done just the opposite. Even more respect for her flowed through Dair. Getting a taste of Crawford’s explosive, unexpected rage, had her insides quaking. She felt like she’d been in a life-and-death situation with the rancher. The look in Crawford’s bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes scared the hell out of her. For a split second, as he came at her, Dair thought she was going to die. It brought back times when her father Butch would attack her. She was fairly sure Crawford wasn’t trying to kill her. Rather, roaring that the ranch was his, he was trying to scare her off by assaulting her. The unspoken message he was sending was that if she stayed, he’d attack her again. Dair knew the type. Her father, Butch, was a mirror image of him.
She left the picture window. Dair didn’t want to imagine what was going on inside Crawford’s house, and wheeled out into the kitchen to make herself a pot of coffee. She wished someone would come back to the house so they could wheel her down to the barn to finish up the feeding. Fretting about it, she pulled a leftover omelet she found in the fridge, which she could reach. Early on, he’d placed the microwave on the counter, near the edge, so that she could roll over and use it. She did. All together, it made a tasty breakfast for herself.
Dair had just finished with her breakfast and was wheeling the dirty dishes over to the sink when there was a knock at the mudroom door. She heard it open and close.
“Hi,” the woman in the sheriff’s uniform said, sticking her head around the corner. “I’m Sheriff Sarah Carson. Are you Dair Wilson?” She stomped the snow off her black, shiny boots and entered, a notebook in one hand.
Dair dried her hands on a towel sitting on the counter and extended her hand to the tall, attractive sheriff. “Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Sheriff Carson.”
“Call me Sarah.” She looked longingly at the pot of coffee. “Any chance I can pour myself a cup and we can go sit at the table and talk? I need to take your statement.”
“Of course. Cream’s in the fridge,” Dair said, gesturing toward it.
“Nah, I like it black and strong.” She walked to the counter, opening the cabinet door and finding where the mugs were located. “Would you like some, Dair?”
Smiling a little, Dair realized she liked the woman. “No, thank you.” She appeared to be in her late twenties or maybe her early thirties. Sarah was her height, she would guesstimate, around five-foot-ten inches or so. It was her heart-shaped face, her sharp green eyes that missed nothing, that made Dair relax. This woman had confidence to burn. But she wasn’t arrogant about it, and Dair knew the difference. She wore her dark brown nylon jacket over her tan uniform. Maybe it was Sarah’s soft mouth that somewhat eased the mantle of power this woman carried. Dair wondered how she’d become the sheriff of the county. She wheeled to the kitchen table and locked the brake, waiting for Sarah.
In no time, Sarah had taken off her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. She sat down, took a quick sip of her coffee and then opened her notebook.
“Everyone’s got electronic tablets to write their reports on,” she said with a grin, pointing to her paper and pen, “but I’m such a non-geek that I like handwriting my reports. I’m sure someone will force me to do it the new, computer-age way sooner or later.” She chuckled. “That’s good coffee, by the way. Thanks.”
Dair nodded, watching the sheriff quickly shift into law enforcement mode. “How’s Crawford doing?” she asked.
“Drunker than hell. We gave him a Breathalyzer and he’s probably drank half a bottle of whiskey, according to the numbers.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re new to Wind River, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Dair filled her in with a few short sentences about how she came to the Bar C.
“Noah Mabry is pressing assault charges against Mr. Crawford,” Sarah told her. “My deputies are reading him his rights, and then they’re taking him to the Lincoln County jail. He’ll be arraigned by a judge tomorrow sometime.” She pointed to her book. “Now, give me your side of what happened. And leave nothing out if you can help it, Dair.”
In ten minutes’ time, Dair had explained what had occurred in the barn. She’d seen Sarah’s eyes turn dark, felt her anger as she finished the story.
“I’m really sorry this happened to you, Dair. Noah had told me when I was taking his statement, that you’d just been injured by a stallion who turned on you, destroying the prosthetic you used. This really sucks.”
“I’ll get a replacement,” Dair said. “For now, I’m hobbling around on crutches or forced into using this chair.” She placed her hands on the wheels.
“Had you ever had a run-in with Mr. Crawford before this?”
Shaking her head, Dair said, “I would catch brief glimpses of him from time to time when he left his house to drive to his condo in town, or when he came home here to the ranch.”
“Did you ever trade words with him?”
“Never. I was always far away when I caught sight of him.”
“So, what do you think triggered his rage this morning?”
“He’s drunk,” Dair muttered, her brows dipping.
“I see,” Sarah murmured, giving her a look of care. “Harper used to be a medic and I know he’s working toward his paramedic license right now. He said he checked you over. Do you want to go to the hospital just to make sure? The right side of your face is going black and blue on you.”
“No, I hate hospitals,” Dair said darkly. “Spent too much time at Bethesda after I lost part of my left leg. Can’t stand being in them.” She touched her hot, throbbing cheek. “Harper said I banged it good. He pushed and pressed around, trying to see if I’d fractured it, and he said I hadn’t. I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking, though . . .”
“Okay,” Sarah murmured. “I think that bruise is going to catch the lower part of your right eye, too, from the looks of it. You hit that concrete pretty hard?”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Her lips quirked. “I’d rather mess up my face than my left knee, which has already been injured by that stallion. I was worried about injuring it more when Crawford attacked me.”
“But Harper said it was fine, too?”
“Yes. He’s really good at what he does, Sarah. I trust him. I have an appointment with Dr. Radke, my ortho surgeon, in a week. I’ll tell him what happened and he’ll very thoroughly check that left knee of mine to make sure it’s okay.”
“Good,” Sarah said. Folding her notebook closed, she held Dair’s gaze. “Now, you have a choice to make here, Dair. Are you going to press charges against Mr. Crawford? Because clearly, he assaulted you, and that’s a felony, not a misdemeanor. That means if you do press charges, he’s going to jail, bail will be set, and then he’s going to go through the court system for injuring you.”
“I know.”
“Noah’s pressing charges because he says Crawford tried to hit, kick, and bite him.”
Uncomfortable, Dair said, “I’m not sure if I want to or not, Sarah.”
“Why?”
Looking away for a moment, she said, “Because Ray Crawford is trying to get healthy enough to sue Shay and Reese to take back the Bar C.”
“I’m aware of the situation,” Sarah told her quietly. “But you shouldn’t make a decision based upon your loyalty to Shay and Reese. Mr. Crawford assaulted you.”
“But what will Crawford do if we send him to jail for a year or two? Will he come back here afterward? More angry? Sue Shay and Reese to get the ranch back, no matter how long it takes him? If I press charges, it just makes Crawford that much more angry and determined to take the Bar C back.” Dair heard the frustration in her voice. “For all I know, he’ll come back with a pistol or rifle and kill all of us, to get even.”
Sarah gave her a nod, her face mostly unreadable. Dair understood why. Law enforcement, in her world, was akin to the military. She was sure that Sarah knew a whole lot more than she could ever tell about everyone, good and bad, in Lincoln County. But it wasn’t something she could talk about, precisely because she held so many secrets. She saw the concern in the sheriff’s green eyes, that sense of strength around her. Dair was glad she was the sheriff. She liked Sarah’s demeanor and that she did not use her authority heavy-handedly.
“Between us?” Sarah said gently. “Mr. Crawford has made it known far and wide to anyone who would listen that he’s intent on suing his daughter to take back the Bar C. It’s coming, no matter what you decide to do, Dair.”
Heaviness cloaked Dair’s shoulders and she hung her head, staring at her hands tightly gripped in her lap. “I know Ray told Shay he’d do that.”
“Were you hoping that by not pressing charges it would make Mr. Crawford back off? That won’t happen.” She opened her hands. “I was born here in Wind River Valley, Dair. I know everyone. And Mr. Crawford comes from a long line of male ranchers who were abusive toward their wives and children. He carried on that tradition with Shay and her mother. I’m sure that’s not news to you, because Shay told me earlier that you knew about their family history.”
“Yeah, she did tell me,” Dair muttered, shaking her head. She frowned. “Can I have until tomorrow morning to make up my mind?”
“Sure,” Sarah said, pushing the chair back and grabbing her dark brown baseball cap. She pulled a card from her pocket, sliding it toward Dair. “Just give me a call with your decision as soon as you can.”
“I will . . . thanks . . . for everything, Sarah.”
“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, Dair. Word was getting around the valley that you’re a wonderful horse trainer.” She smiled. “You have a good name here, and that’s something to be proud of. I’m also asking my photographer to come over here and photograph your injuries by Mr. Crawford for evidence.” She lifted her hand. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Dair sat there feeling miserable. Just as Sarah opened the door to leave, she saw Noah coming in. They exchanged a few words out in the mudroom, and then Sarah left. Her heart leaped. She needed him right now as never before. When had Noah become so indispensable to her? It didn’t matter, Dair told herself. He stomped the snow off his boots and then entered the kitchen, giving her an intense, cursory inspection.
“I’m okay,” Dair said. “Is Crawford gone?”
“Yes,” Noah said, coming over to her. He crouched down in front of her and reached out, grazing her uninjured cheek. “The deputies took him away. You’re pale.”
“Am I?”
He smiled faintly and slid his hands in a comforting gesture down her arms. “Anyone would be. How’s your right knee doing? Harper said he examined you and said it was fine.”
“It’s okay.” She felt her flesh tingling wildly in the wake of his hands gently moving down her arms. He rose and she missed his nearness, wanting badly to be embraced by him.
“Your one cheek looks pretty rough,” Noah said. “Can I get you an ice pack for it?”
His thoughtfulness touched her, as always. “Yes. Kira made me one earlier. The cloth is in the sink. Just grab some ice cubes and put them inside it.”
Noah moved to the kitchen and quickly created her ice pack, bringing it over to her. “Have you eaten, Dair?”
“I took that omelet you’d made earlier from the fridge and I saved half of it for you. It’s in there, if you want it. I’m worried about getting the rest of the horses fed.”
“Garret and Harper are doing that right now,” he said. “Coffee smells good. I’m going to grab the last of that omelet. Want some toast?”
“No . . . thanks.” Hungrily, she watched Noah putter around in the kitchen. He wore a bright red flannel cowboy shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he washed his hands in the sink. “How is everyone doing?” she asked.
Noah snorted, turning and looking at her over his shoulder. “Let’s put it this way: Tonight when we have our Friday meeting? It ought to be a humdinger.”
“Garret looked pretty upset after Kira ran up and met him in the parking lot and told him why the sheriff’s cars were here.”
“Garret is not someone you mess with,” Noah said, putting the omelet on a plate and then sliding it into the microwave oven. “When he found out what happened, he wanted to take Crawford apart, piece by piece, right there on the spot, in front of the deputies. And he could have done it.”
“Wow . . .”
“Reese is the deadly one, though,” Noah added, popping two slices of whole wheat bread into the toaster. “They untied Crawford once they got him into the living room. Reese and Harper just stood at the door and would not let him leave. He paced, screamed, cursed, and yelled at them, not necessarily in that order.”
“How were you handling it?”
Noah scowled and turned, hips resting against the counter. “Not well, because I saw him try to hit you, Dair. I wanted to kill the sonofabitch. I heard him screaming as he went into the barn. I was training a horse when I heard the commotion.” His voice lowered, eyes flashing. “Crawford’s lucky that I don’t want to spend my life in prison for killing him. He’s not worth it, when I have someone like you to come home to.”
Dair felt his care, saw it burning in his narrowed gaze. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t kill him. I want you around here, too, Noah.” She saw the line of his mouth soften a little. There was a charged air of threat and danger swirling around him. He had been in the military, he’d seen combat, and she was sure he’d killed enemy. “I’m glad you didn’t let your emotions run away with you,” she whispered.
“Well, you were doing a pretty damn good job of defending yourself against him,” he grunted. The toast popped up and he removed it and buttered it, placing it on the plate that had just come out of the microwave. He sauntered over to the table and sat down at the corner, their elbows nearly brushing one another. Holding out a piece of toast, he said, “Come on, eat a little. You’re still in shock and your adrenaline hasn’t crashed yet.” And then he grinned. “I’ll even put strawberry jam on it for you, if you want?”
She smiled and took the toast. “It’s fine as is, thanks. Go ahead, eat. You have to be starved.”
Noah ate hungrily, but he spoke between bites. “Sarah had one of her deputies take Crawford’s statement. He lied his ass off. He said that you called him names and charged at him.”
Mouth dropping open, Dair said, “That’s a lie!”
“Sure it is. Harper gave his statement. And then, I gave mine. Our three statements are going to read the same. So it will make Crawford out to be the liar he is. Besides, he failed the Breathalyzer test, and that’s going to do him in with a judge or jury.” And then he gave her a pleased look. “What Crawford doesn’t know is that Garret had put video cameras in all the barns and arena. Garret is going to retrieve the video from that area where the attack occurred and hand it over to Sarah as evidence against Crawford.”
Tearing the toast in two, laying it on the mat in front of her, Dair said, “I didn’t know we had cameras out there.”
“Yeah, it was Garret’s idea as a safety feature. But now that video will show Crawford lied on his statement.”
“Crawford doesn’t respect any of us, Noah. He called Shay stupid. He’s an abuser, pure and simple, with or without alcohol fueling him.”
“No argument there,” he said, finishing off the omelet. “He blamed Shay for bringing him the liquor he consumed this morning. Said she’d bought him a bottle of whiskey. Shay about dropped over dead on that one. It was a complete lie.”
“Did the deputy taking his statement know that he was lying?”
“I’m sure he did, but he had his game face on and he acted nonjudgmental toward Crawford.”
“I sat here with Sarah, and it’s obvious she knows all about Shay and Reese’s problems with Crawford,” she muttered.
He chuckled, finishing off his piece of toast. “I don’t know Sarah that well, but everyone thinks highly of her. She’s the kind of person who tries to defuse situations and get people to talk and cool things down. Crawford was out of control and he was angry at everyone. He’s threatened repeatedly to sue the sheriff’s department for detaining him in his own home.”
“Someone needs to permanently put that guy away.”
“He’s one of those dark humans who does nothing but spread toxic shit, unhappiness, and pain on anyone he touches or is around,” Noah said, his voice grim.
“When he was coming at me . . .” Dair said, meeting his hardened expression.
“Yes?”
“I had the craziest thing happen for a split second. I saw my father’s face over Crawford’s face. And then it changed back. It really shook me. I wasn’t thinking when he charged me. I just threw out my foot, hoping to stop him from reaching me with his fist.” She saw Noah’s gray eyes grow turbulent. He reached out, his hand enclosing hers.
“I’m so damned sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Dair.”
She felt the warm roughness of his fingers around her cool, damp ones. “I guess,” she choked out, “I’m more upset about this than I realized. I mean . . . I haven’t seen my father since I was ten years old, when he broke my arm. It’s crazy that I’d see his face over Crawford’s.” She searched Noah’s narrowing gaze.
“I think some of us carry our past with us, whether we know it or not,” Noah said gently.