Black Hills
Page 23
Because she’d asked, Coop drove his bike to the start of the Chance farm road at dawn. Melinda Barrett’s murder had delayed his start by two days, and he couldn’t delay it longer.
He saw her standing in the early light, the dogs milling around her, the hills at her back. He’d remember that, he thought. Remember Lil just like that until he saw her again.
When he stopped and got off the bike, the dogs raced and leaped. Lil simply went into his arms.
“Would you call, when you get to New York?”
“Yes. Are you all right?”
“It’s so much. I thought we’d have more time alone. Just alone to be. Then we found her. They don’t have any idea who did that to her, or if they do, they’re not saying. She just walked that trail, and someone killed her. For her pack? Her watch? For no reason? I can’t get it out of my mind, and we haven’t had our time.” She tipped her face up, met his lips with hers. “It’s just for a while.”
“For a while.”
“I know you have to go, but… did you eat? Do you need anything?” She tried to smile as tears drenched her throat. “Watch how I stall.”
“I had flapjacks. Grandma knows my weakness. They gave me five thousand dollars, Lil. They wouldn’t let me say no.”
“Good.” She kissed him again. “Good. Then I won’t worry about you starving to death in some gutter. I’ll miss you. God, I miss you already. Go. You need to go.”
“I’ll call. I’ll miss you.”
“Kick ass at the academy, Coop.”
He got on the bike, took one last long look. “I’ll come back.”
“To me,” she murmured when he gunned the engine. “Come back to me.”
She watched until he was out of sight, until she was sure he was gone. In the soft, early light, she sat on the ground, and gathering the dogs to her, wept her heart out.
6
SOUTH DAKOTA
February 2009
The little Cessna shuddered, then gave a couple of quick, annoyed bucks as it buzzed over the hills, the plains and valleys. Lil shifted in her seat. Not from nerves-she’d been through worse air than this and come out fine. She shifted for a better view. Her Black Hills were white with February, a snow globe of rises, ridges, and flats, rib-boned by frozen streams, laced by shivering pines.
She imagined the wind on the ground was nearly as raw and mean as it could be up here, so a good, strong inhale would be like gulping down broken glass.
She couldn’t have been happier.
She was nearly home.
The last six months had been incredible, an experience she’d never forget. She’d been drenched, had sweltered, been frozen, been bitten and stung-all while studying pumas in the Andes.
She’d earned every penny of the research grant, and hoped to earn more with the papers and articles she’d written, and would write.
Money aside-though in her position that was a luxury she couldn’t afford-every mile she’d hiked, every bruise, every sore muscle had been worth the sight of a golden puma stalking prey in the rain forest, or perched like an idol on a cliffside.
But now she was ready for home. Back to her own habitat.
Work waited, and plenty of it. Six months equaled her longest field trip, and even keeping in touch when she could, she’d face mountains of work.
The Chance Wildlife Refuge was her baby, after all.
But before she dived in, she wanted a day, even a day to wallow in home.
She stretched out her legs as best she could in the confines of the cabin, crossed her hiking boots at the ankles. She’d been traveling, one way or the other, for a day and a half, but this last leg washed away any travel fatigue.
“Gonna get bumpy.”
She glanced over at Dave, the pilot. “And it’s been smooth as a lake so far.”
He grinned, winked. “Gonna seem like it.”
She gave her seat belt an extra tug, but wasn’t worried. Dave had gotten her home before. “I appreciate you making the detour.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll buy you a meal before you head up to Twin Forks.”
“I’ll rain-check that.” He turned his Minnesota Twins fielder’s cap bill-back as he always did for luck before a landing. “I figure I’ll take off as soon as I refuel. You’ve been gone awhile this time. Must be anxious to get home.”
“I am.”
The wind slapped and yanked at the little plane on the descent. It rocked and kicked like a bad-tempered child in mid-tantrum. Lil grinned when she saw the runway of the municipal airport.
“You call me when you’re back this way, Dave. My mother will fix you the prince of home-cooked meals.”
“I’m on that.”
She shoved her thick braid off her shoulder, peering down, her dark eyes searching. She spotted the blop of red. Her mother’s car, she thought. Had to be. She braced against the turbulence, keeping that spot of red as her focal point.
The landing gear rumbled down, the red became a Yukon, and the plane dipped toward the runway. When the wheels touched, her heart lifted.
The minute Dave gave her the nod, she unbuckled to grab her duffel, her pack, her laptop case. Loaded, she turned to her pilot, managed to get a hand on his beard-grizzled face, and kissed him hard on the lips.
“Almost as good as a home-cooked meal,” he said.
As she clanged her way down the short steps to the tarmac, Jenna rushed out of the tiny terminal. Lil dumped her gear, and met her mother on the run.
“There you are. There you are,” Jenna murmured as they gripped each other in rib-crushers. “Welcome back, welcome home. Oh, I missed you! Let me look at you!”
“In a minute.” Lil held on, breathed in the scents of lemon and vanilla that said Mom. “Okay.”
She eased back, and the two women studied each other. “You look so beautiful.” Lil reached out, flicked her fingers over her mother’s hair. “I still can’t get used to it short. Sassy.”
“You look… amazing. How can you look amazing after six months of tramping around the Andes? After spending nearly two days on planes, trains, and God knows what else to get home? But you look amazing, and ready for anything. Let’s get your stuff, get you out of the cold. Dave!”
Jenna hurried toward the pilot, caught his face, as Lil had, kissed him, as Lil had. “Thanks for bringing my girl home.”
He saw her standing in the early light, the dogs milling around her, the hills at her back. He’d remember that, he thought. Remember Lil just like that until he saw her again.
When he stopped and got off the bike, the dogs raced and leaped. Lil simply went into his arms.
“Would you call, when you get to New York?”
“Yes. Are you all right?”
“It’s so much. I thought we’d have more time alone. Just alone to be. Then we found her. They don’t have any idea who did that to her, or if they do, they’re not saying. She just walked that trail, and someone killed her. For her pack? Her watch? For no reason? I can’t get it out of my mind, and we haven’t had our time.” She tipped her face up, met his lips with hers. “It’s just for a while.”
“For a while.”
“I know you have to go, but… did you eat? Do you need anything?” She tried to smile as tears drenched her throat. “Watch how I stall.”
“I had flapjacks. Grandma knows my weakness. They gave me five thousand dollars, Lil. They wouldn’t let me say no.”
“Good.” She kissed him again. “Good. Then I won’t worry about you starving to death in some gutter. I’ll miss you. God, I miss you already. Go. You need to go.”
“I’ll call. I’ll miss you.”
“Kick ass at the academy, Coop.”
He got on the bike, took one last long look. “I’ll come back.”
“To me,” she murmured when he gunned the engine. “Come back to me.”
She watched until he was out of sight, until she was sure he was gone. In the soft, early light, she sat on the ground, and gathering the dogs to her, wept her heart out.
6
SOUTH DAKOTA
February 2009
The little Cessna shuddered, then gave a couple of quick, annoyed bucks as it buzzed over the hills, the plains and valleys. Lil shifted in her seat. Not from nerves-she’d been through worse air than this and come out fine. She shifted for a better view. Her Black Hills were white with February, a snow globe of rises, ridges, and flats, rib-boned by frozen streams, laced by shivering pines.
She imagined the wind on the ground was nearly as raw and mean as it could be up here, so a good, strong inhale would be like gulping down broken glass.
She couldn’t have been happier.
She was nearly home.
The last six months had been incredible, an experience she’d never forget. She’d been drenched, had sweltered, been frozen, been bitten and stung-all while studying pumas in the Andes.
She’d earned every penny of the research grant, and hoped to earn more with the papers and articles she’d written, and would write.
Money aside-though in her position that was a luxury she couldn’t afford-every mile she’d hiked, every bruise, every sore muscle had been worth the sight of a golden puma stalking prey in the rain forest, or perched like an idol on a cliffside.
But now she was ready for home. Back to her own habitat.
Work waited, and plenty of it. Six months equaled her longest field trip, and even keeping in touch when she could, she’d face mountains of work.
The Chance Wildlife Refuge was her baby, after all.
But before she dived in, she wanted a day, even a day to wallow in home.
She stretched out her legs as best she could in the confines of the cabin, crossed her hiking boots at the ankles. She’d been traveling, one way or the other, for a day and a half, but this last leg washed away any travel fatigue.
“Gonna get bumpy.”
She glanced over at Dave, the pilot. “And it’s been smooth as a lake so far.”
He grinned, winked. “Gonna seem like it.”
She gave her seat belt an extra tug, but wasn’t worried. Dave had gotten her home before. “I appreciate you making the detour.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll buy you a meal before you head up to Twin Forks.”
“I’ll rain-check that.” He turned his Minnesota Twins fielder’s cap bill-back as he always did for luck before a landing. “I figure I’ll take off as soon as I refuel. You’ve been gone awhile this time. Must be anxious to get home.”
“I am.”
The wind slapped and yanked at the little plane on the descent. It rocked and kicked like a bad-tempered child in mid-tantrum. Lil grinned when she saw the runway of the municipal airport.
“You call me when you’re back this way, Dave. My mother will fix you the prince of home-cooked meals.”
“I’m on that.”
She shoved her thick braid off her shoulder, peering down, her dark eyes searching. She spotted the blop of red. Her mother’s car, she thought. Had to be. She braced against the turbulence, keeping that spot of red as her focal point.
The landing gear rumbled down, the red became a Yukon, and the plane dipped toward the runway. When the wheels touched, her heart lifted.
The minute Dave gave her the nod, she unbuckled to grab her duffel, her pack, her laptop case. Loaded, she turned to her pilot, managed to get a hand on his beard-grizzled face, and kissed him hard on the lips.
“Almost as good as a home-cooked meal,” he said.
As she clanged her way down the short steps to the tarmac, Jenna rushed out of the tiny terminal. Lil dumped her gear, and met her mother on the run.
“There you are. There you are,” Jenna murmured as they gripped each other in rib-crushers. “Welcome back, welcome home. Oh, I missed you! Let me look at you!”
“In a minute.” Lil held on, breathed in the scents of lemon and vanilla that said Mom. “Okay.”
She eased back, and the two women studied each other. “You look so beautiful.” Lil reached out, flicked her fingers over her mother’s hair. “I still can’t get used to it short. Sassy.”
“You look… amazing. How can you look amazing after six months of tramping around the Andes? After spending nearly two days on planes, trains, and God knows what else to get home? But you look amazing, and ready for anything. Let’s get your stuff, get you out of the cold. Dave!”
Jenna hurried toward the pilot, caught his face, as Lil had, kissed him, as Lil had. “Thanks for bringing my girl home.”
