got on my nerves so much lately. She had always been my best friend. I admired her for so many things. She could ride and hunt and fish with the best of them, and if she ever met old Freddy Kruger face to face, she'd probably just walk up and spit in his eye. Next to Rosebud, she was the bravest person I knew. Why then, all of a sudden, did she seem so…? I couldn't put words to it. I was still trying to figure that one out when I fell asleep. You would think, under the circumstances, I would have dreamed of Monica that night. But I didn't; I dreamed about Misty Caldwell instead.
12
Rosebud parked the big, black limo in front of the ranch house at six o'clock Friday evening. Fat cows grazed in the pasture while the horses hung their heads over the corral looking for all the world like they were were saying, Welcome back. One even curled his lips and gave a friendly whinny. The sun, red and low in the sky, seemed to color the whole place a soft, peach color.
"My, isn't this peaceful," Biggie said. "Makes me miss the old days on the farm."
"Not me," I said. "I like living in town. It's too quiet out here."
Rosebud got out and came around the car to open the door for Biggie while I hopped out on the other side and ran up the gravel walk to ring the doorbell. Babe opened the door.
"Oh, it's you." She turned and walked away from us toward the bedrooms. "The others are in the great room," she said over her shoulder.
Abner Putnam stood up as we came into the living room. Laura sat on a leather chair near the fireplace holding a glass of wine, while Grace Higgins sat in a matching chair opposite her. Jeremy Polk, a drink in his hand, stood facing Laura in front of the mantel. Laura jumped to her feet and walked over to Biggie, hands outstretched.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Rex has been asking for you all day." She hooked her arm through Biggie's. "Would you see him now? I know it's rude not to offer you a drink first, but he seems so very anxious to see you."
"Of course," Biggie said. "Does he want J.R., too?"
"Yes, absolutely. He insisted on that." She lowered her voice. "I'm afraid my poor sweet baby's not feeling well. I hope you'll understand if I ask you not to stay long."
She led us down the hall and opened the door to Rex's room. He looked smaller than he had two days ago, and his face was the color of wood ashes. Pillows on both sides kept him upright in his recliner, and I wondered if he might just tumble over like one of those round-bottom dolls if you took them away. After Laura closed the door behind her, he motioned us to come closer. Biggie pulled up a straight chair and sat facing him.
"What's happened to you?" she asked.
A smile tried to pass across his face. "That's my Fiona," he said. "You never did mince words, did you?"
Biggie shook her head impatiently. "In two days' time, honey, you've gone down quite a bit. Are you sick? Has the doctor seen you?"
He waved his big hand. "No, not that. I have days like this, dear. It comes and goes. Now listen, we haven't got much time before I have to take another dose of that dratted medicine. After that, I'll be as worthless as a canceled stamp."
I moved in closer so I could hear.
"I've changed my will to include young J.R. here. Fiona, I know you're a smart woman, so I'm counting on you not to let any of them pull a fast one. Understand?"
Biggie nodded. "Where is your will?"
He tried to turn in his chair and point toward the chest of drawers behind him, but the effort was too much. He slumped lower in his chair and shook his head. "It's in the—"
Just then someone knocked loudly on the door and Jeremy Polk came in. He nodded to us and walked across the room and stood in front of Rex. "Sorry to interrupt, friend, but I've got to get back to Dallas tonight. I just need a few minutes of your time— to finalize what we talked about earlier."
Rex looked irritated, but nodded. "Will you come back later?" His eyes pleaded with Biggie. "I'll put off the damned medicine somehow."
Biggie bent down and kissed