rumored connections with the kind of people who could find anybody, anywhere. If he wanted to live, he would have to do what she wanted.
By noon the work was done. The men were dismissed to go back to the bunkhouse or home to their families. Ralph had driven his truck the quarter mile from his bungalow to the ranch yard. Climbing into the cab, he lit a cigarette and watched Will, Beau, and Sky trail toward the house. Rich bastards, those Tylers. They deserve what they’re about to get.
Stella had told him to make his move while the Tylers and the ranch hands were at dinner. That wasn’t likely to happen for an hour or more. Meanwhile, he could hardly sit here and wait in plain sight. He had little choice except to go home, eat his microwaved Thanksgiving dinner with Vonda, then make an excuse to go back to the barn.
Starting up the truck, he drove home. He found Vonda lying on the couch with the TV blaring and the two dinners sitting on the counter, still frozen. He opened one, shoved it in the microwave, and set the timer.
“Want me to cook yours, too?” he asked her.
“Not now. I don’t feel real hot. I’ve got a bellyache.”
“Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. Ralph turned down the volume on the TV and waited for his dinner to heat. When it was ready, he ate it, standing up, off the counter. So much for Thanksgiving, he thought.
Tossing the plastic tray in the trash, he glanced at the clock on the stove. It was early yet, but he was getting anxious. He’d planned to go back to the barn on foot, less chance of being seen. Add a few more minutes to circle around the back way and, with luck, the timing should be about right.
“Where are you going?” Vonda demanded as he slipped on his denim jacket again.
“Just something I promised to check on. I won’t be long.” He started for the door.
Straining, she managed to sit up. “Do you have to go now? I feel—oh!” Her face froze in shock as wetness spread down the legs of her sweatpants. “Oh, Ralphie, I think my water just broke!”
Seized by a sick panic, Ralph paused in the doorway. Whatever was happening here, he had to do the job for Stella. If he didn’t, she was liable to kill him.
“You can’t go now!” Vonda wailed. “You need to drive me to the hospital! I’m going to have this baby!”
Damn! Ralph felt the cold sweat beading under his flannel shirt. But first babies took a long time, didn’t they? He could still go and make it to the hospital, an hour away in Lubbock. He had to.
“This won’t take long,” he said. “Get ready. I’ll take you as soon as I get back.” As an afterthought he tossed her his cell phone. “If you need help before then, call nine-one-one.”
Before she could say anything else, he was out the door.
Should he take the truck? It would get him there and back faster. But no, a vehicle could be spotted too easily, and everybody knew that old rust bucket by sight. Passing the truck, he broke into a run, cutting up the road, across the open ground and behind the outbuildings to the rear of the barn. There, aching from a stitch in his side, he slumped with his hands on his knees, fighting the urge to retch.
So far, he’d seen nobody outside. All to the good. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to Vonda and drive her to the hospital.
He didn’t want to see the baby. He didn’t want to see anything that might have the power to hold him to this place. He would take Vonda to the emergency entrance, make sure she was in good hands, then report to Stella. Once he had the money, it would be Good-bye, Blanco Springs.
The long barn, which held the mares, their growing foals, and some of Sky’s trained colts, was unlocked at the near end. Ralph slipped inside, closed the door behind him, and walked the long line of stalls toward the far end. Horses snorted as he passed. Some raised their heads and looked at him with their luminous dark eyes. Most of them were familiar. Some he’d even ridden to work the cattle. Ralph didn’t love horses, but he liked some of these. Knowing what was about to happen,