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“And for your information, I do have a gun.” Laredo stepped back from the door to allow Jessy to slide in next to Chase.
She skimmed a glance over his tapered shirt and snug-fitting jeans, identifying all his muscled contours for what they were. “But not on you,” she concluded.
“Yup.” He reached behind his back. When his hand reappeared, there was a thirty-eight in it. Her only show of surprise was a faint widening of her eyes. “Like you, Jessy, I play it cautious.” Using both hands, he returned the gun to its hiding place.
“I won’t be fooled by that a second time.” She stepped onto the running board and pulled herself into the cab.
With the midday temperatures rising, they left both doors open to keep the interior air circulating. Jessy ran a critical eye over Chase, concern clouding her eyes.
“How bad were you hurt?” she asked.
“Bad enough,” Chase answered without elaboration.
“How did it happen? And why don’t you want anyone to know you’re alive?” She had come up with a dozen possible explanations en route to the cemetery, which made her anxious to hear the true one.
“It’s a long story, one I’ll let Laredo tell.”
Privately it irritated her that he chose to defer to Laredo, but she kept her irritation to herself.
Sitting sideways, Laredo leaned forward, draping an arm over the top of the steering wheel, and gave her a bare-bones account of the events that had led up to this moment. When he finished, Jessy stared at Chase, making no attempt at all to mask her shock.
“You really don’t remember who you are? Not even now?”
“My memory doesn’t go back any
farther than that parking lot,” Chase told her. “According to Hattie, in most cases like mine, it will return—maybe in a few days or a few months—in bits and pieces or full-blown. Or there may be parts I never remember, especially the time right before I was shot.”
“And Hattie is some friend or relation of yours?” She looked to Laredo for confirmation.
“Something like that.” He nodded.
“But how can you be sure of that when you haven’t seen a doctor?” Jessy reasoned.
“Hattie is a registered nurse. And seeking a doctor is too risky. By law, gunshot wounds have to be reported. I don’t need that kind of trouble.” Chase’s expression warned her that he was firm on that decision.
“But what are you going to do?” Jessy asked, conscious of the myriad of complications his amnesia created.
“That’s where you come into it,” Chase said. “I need a place close by the ranch where I can hole up—either until my memory returns or we figure out who tried to kill me. More importantly it needs to be a place where I don’t have to worry about neighbors or a landlord stopping by. Laredo tells me the Triple C is big—managed in districts. Is there an old house or cabin sitting empty somewhere?”
“I can think of three off the top of my head, but it would be too easy for one of the hands to notice it was occupied. Other than those, there really isn’t anyth—wait a minute.” She stopped, a possibility dawning on her. “There used to be an old line shack up in the high foothills. To the best of my knowledge nobody has been there in years, probably not since my dad and I were up there hunting. I couldn’t have been much more than twelve or thirteen at the time. We don’t even run cattle up there anymore.”
“It sounds perfect,” Chase stated. “How do we get there?”
With the passing of that initial burst of excitement, Jessy turned hesitant. “I can’t even swear that it’s still standing, let alone whether the well still works, or how habitable it might be. There is definitely no running water or electricity.”
“I’ve lived under rougher conditions,” Laredo said with unconcern. “If you can supply me with the necessary tools, lumber, and maybe even a generator, I can make it livable.”
“I’ll figure out a way.” Jessy knew it wouldn’t be easy to do without arousing someone’s suspicions. “I don’t think directions will do you any good. Unless you know where it is, it would be sheer luck if you found it. I’ll have to take you there. Even then the old fire road will only get you within a half mile of it. I can’t remember what the terrain is like to know whether you can drive any closer than that.”
“In that case we’ll find out when we get there.” The whinny of a horse punctuated the end of Laredo’s statement. In swift reaction, he came to full alertness, his gaze making a slashing survey of the area outside the pickup.
“That was my horse,” Jessy said in quick assurance. “I picketed him in the hollow beyond the tree.”
“You rode here?” Laredo questioned in surprise. “Why?”
“I didn’t want to take the chance someone would drive by and see a Triple C pickup parked around here. Nothing would start the rumor mill buzzing quicker.” That thought triggered another. “It will take me close to an hour to ride back to where I left the truck and trailer parked. If I try to take you to the line shack this afternoon, there won’t be much daylight left by the time we get there. Do you have a place you can stay tonight?”
“We have a couple motel rooms in Miles City,” Laredo answered. “We left Hattie there to do our laundry.”
