fill me in, then I’ll tell you everything.” Lauren patted his shoulder, knowing how he loved details. Tim saw life, his and everyone else’s, as simply an ongoing story. “Pearly told me two hay storage barns on the Collinses’ place went up. Both total losses. Since it was stormy last night, lightning could have set one but not likely two.”
“Agreed. Something’s going on out there.” Tim finished her thought.
“Something?” Lauren echoed.
“Anyone could have set them out of anger.” Tim thought out loud. “Plenty of people hate the Collins family. I know I do. Reid has a lot of good-time buddies, but he’s made his share of enemies too.”
“I know. Besides you hating him, there’s about thirty cowboys who lost their jobs yesterday. Lucas’s dad might even be suspected. He was the Bar W foreman forever. I can’t believe he was just kicked off land he’d worked for thirty years.”
Tim shook his head. “Don’t seem much like the cowboy way to set a fire. I wouldn’t put it past Reid to set them himself. Maybe collecting insurance money is faster than selling hay. Or maybe Lucas went a step further than taking a swing at Reid. I’ve never seen him so angry. He may be a lawyer, but that swing last night was personal. Reid hurt his family. I wouldn’t be surprised...”
“It wasn’t Lucas.” She interrupted Tim’s rant.
“Oh, yeah? You haven’t seen the guy in years and you think you know him?”
Tim’s words came fast, almost angry. “L, you always put him on a pedestal. Lucas the Great.”
“I know he didn’t set the fires because I was with him. We were on Kirkland land only a mile away. We saw the first one flame up and before we could call it in, another one went up.”
Tim stood up so fast she jumped. “Of course you were, L. Lying about seeing Lucas hit Reid is one thing, but giving him an alibi is another. One lie too many, maybe. How many times do you have to pay the guy back for saving you that night at the Gypsy House? He caught you. Kept you from falling. It was instinct. You don’t owe him anything.”
“No. I was with him. I found him out looking at the stars like I said I would. I’m not covering for him. I’m just telling the truth.”
Tim offered his hand and pulled her to her feet. “I’m sorry. I’m not sober enough to be reasonable or drunk enough not to care.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “It’s good to be home. You’re the one person I miss when I wander.” He hugged harder. “You’re the last person I should yell at.”
She hugged him back. “I miss my best friend also,” she whispered.
He rubbed his chin against her hair. “No one’s hair feels or smells like yours. It smells like it looks, like sunshine on a spring day.”
She laughed. “That’s what you miss, my hair?”
“No. That’s not all. I miss laughing with you and talking like we used to. I think I’ve told you every secret I’ve ever had. How about we both get some sleep? It’s almost daylight. I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight. We’ll catch up.”
“It’s a date. I’d love to talk to you about my next book. I’m thinking of doing nonfiction. The Ghosts of West Texas. A friend of mine tells me there are places around here where spirits walk the land on moonless nights.”
He smiled. “I can’t wait to hear about it.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back.
“Or,” he laughed, letting her know he was joking, “we could sleep together and order takeout from bed.”
“Crossroads doesn’t have takeout.”
He nodded. “And we’re not sleeping together.”
“Right.” She almost added, been there, done that, but she didn’t want to bring up the past. She’d almost lost her best friend when she’d ended their short affair, if she could even call it that. Lauren wished they could both erase those few times when they were more than friends, less than lovers.
He turned and walked back the way he’d come, mumbling something to himself. At the dock, he waved and called, “See you later, alligator,” the same way he had all those years ago when they were kids.
“After a while, crocodile,” she said so low she doubted he heard her. Lauren watched him, thinking her life would be so simple if she loved Tim as more than a friend.
Only she didn’t.
Deciding it was too cold to stay out any longer, she walked toward the door that opened into her father’s study. She’d finish the night in her father’s recliner so she’d be there when he came home.
Just before she stepped inside, a lone truck turned off the highway and rattled down the steep incline to the lake.
For a moment she watched, hoping it was Pop, knowing the headlights were too close together for it to be his cruiser.
Without moving, she watched Lucas park and climb out of the old pickup. The new sports car his mother said he’d bought didn’t seem like it would fit him. The Lucas she knew was always more like a cowboy. He’d ridden full-out through college and law school, as if running across open land. He was determined, headstrong, driven, but he wasn’t the type who drove a sports car.
Or set a fire, she thought.
Lauren stepped into the light as he stormed up the steps.
When he was a few feet away, she could smell the scent of fire on his clothes. “What happened?”
He stopped suddenly and coughed as if clearing his lungs so he could breathe in clean air. “Both hay barns on the Collinses’ place are gone. By the time I got there the firemen were just watching them go up and making sure the fire didn’t spread. There was nothing anyone could do.”
“Lightning?”
He shook his head. “No one thinks so. The few cowboys packing up their gear didn’t help, and the guys Reid’s new manager brought in didn’t know where anything was. Someone might have saved them from a full burn when the fires first sparked, but no one stepped up. By the time the fire trucks got there, it was too late.”
He dug his fingers through hair that had looked styled earlier but now was windblown and wild. “It was like going to a midnight funeral. All the cowhands who’d worked on the Bar W for years just stood and watched. Memories were burning and we all knew the ranch would never be the same. A final bonfire to the death of what had once been a great ranch.”
She brushed his arm in comfort. “Pop says if ranches aren’t careful they follow the rule of three. The first generation builds it, the second enjoys it and the third destroys it. A hundred years from birth to death.”
Lucas’s rough hand covered hers. “Maybe so, but the owners don’t seem to realize how many lives are built around a ranch. I grew up there. The ranch was more than just where my dad worked, it was our home too.”
“Where was Reid tonight?” She hated to think he’d be dumb enough to set his own land on fire, but he might. Reid and his dad had been slicing off pieces of pastureland for a few years. Lucas might love the land, but Reid only cared about how much income it brought in.
“Someone said they found him at his house, passed out drunk. He must have gone there right after I hit him. The housekeeper said he came in cussing and trashing his office. She said he guzzled down all the liquor he could find, yelling about how he hated the ranch. She claimed he’d been in the headquarters all night.”
“Did you tell my pop you had a fight with Reid earlier?”
“I told him I took a swing at Reid, but it wasn’t much of a fight.
“The sheriff was at the first barn five minutes after I pulled up. The firemen had called him. Knowing your dad, he followed the first truck out.” Lucas paced