Stream Ran Dry Page 2

  Twisting… bending… reattaching… Concentrating on small daily tasks, one at a time, helped him to grieve for her, but the grief seemed never ending. Wyatt stretched his back, leaned over for another swig of water and took off his hat again, wiping more sweat from his face. It had been three very long years.

  Returning back to the task at hand, he thought of friend Clint’s advice. You’ve got to get back in the saddle, Wyatt. You can’t grieve for Missy forever. Get a date… Rejoin the land of the living.

  But he just wasn’t ready to do that yet. He still made weekly trips to the small cemetery on his property where she was buried just to talk to her… It was a pretty little place, nestled in a small grove of cottonwood trees with a small stream nearby.

  Even though Clint’s advice buzzed through his brain, he knew he wasn’t ready to date. Besides, Wyatt sure as hell hadn’t met anyone who measured up to Missy at all. All the local gals that Clint had tried to set him up with paled in her shadow. He didn’t think he’d ever find anyone who could take her place.

  And that was all right… He believed that all things happened the way they should. If he was meant to be alone, then that’s what he would be. Wyatt wasn’t about to go charging into any romantic situation just because, or for no particular reason. He had to admit he did miss a woman’s companionship and certainly sex, but not enough to risk the complacent life he had going. She would have to be a tough cookie to break through the hard exterior shell he’d built in the last three years to ward off any intimacy that encroached. And if she were a tough cookie…he wouldn’t want her. Missy had been sweet and kind… It was a no-win situation for him…

  Wyatt finished mending the fences so his cattle wouldn’t wander into this section of the property and rode back to the ranch house to meet with the vet. A few cows were off their feed and he needed to see if there was a problem brewing. Best to nip medical problems in the bud, if at all possible.

  Just as the vet was leaving, he saw Clint’s old Chevy truck coming up the road, dust flying behind him. Wyatt grinned… Clint was driving way too fast, which meant he had some gossip or news he was dying to spread. The guy had two speeds – slow and fast – making it much easier to read his friend’s moods.

  Clint pulled up in the side parking area by the ranch house, got out and slammed the heavy door behind him. He walked purposely up to the porch, while Wyatt smiled at the tall, lanky cowboy approaching.

  “I just know you’re not this excited to practice team roping today,” teased Wyatt.

  “Ha! I’ve got much better news than that.” Clint breezed past him and went into the house with Wyatt following. Going into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and found a beer.

  “Well, help yourself, by all means…”

  “Wyatt.”

  “Yeah?”

  Clint twisted off the cap, raised the bottle to his lips and drank a good swallow. When he’d wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he began again.

  “I was just talking with Rob who got a call from some reporter in Las Vegas.”

  Wyatt bit his lip. This didn’t sound good. “Okay…”

  “The reporter wants to interview a few local ranchers about what’s going on over in Allenville.”

  “So?”

  “She asked for an interview to get our perspective on things… How we felt about it, you know.”

  “Well, I know how I feel about the situation, but I don’t feel like sharing it with any newspaper in Vegas.”

  “How else will anyone in the outside world learn how most of us feel about what that rancher’s doing over there?”

  “…And why do you care?”

  Wyatt threw his cowboy hat on the table, reached past him, opened the frig and got a beer for himself. Clint watched as he wrestled off the cap, lifted the bottle and took a good pull. Then Wyatt was lost for a minute in his own thoughts, gazing out the kitchen window. Clint took another swallow as he watched his friend struggle. Wyatt’s damp chestnut hair matched the sadness in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that glanced back at Clint now.

  “What?”

  Clint shook his head. “I wish I had a magic wand to wave over you sometimes.”

  “Why?” Wyatt laughed. “…Think I could use a little magic?”

  “…You need something, man. You’ve got to come back to the world.”

  “Okay,” he looked down at his boots. They needed cleaning. “I’m getting there…”

  “…But not in our lifetime, Wyatt.”

  He shrugged and sat down to pull off his boots. He emptied a few rocks out of them.

  “What would you have me do?”

  Clint’s eyes gleamed and Wyatt’s eyes narrowed.

  “I want you to meet this reporter with Rob and me.”

  He grimaced. “Oh, come on. I have no interest in spreading my opinion all over the state or the world… whatsoever. It’s no one’s business but my own.”

  “Okay, then do it for me.”

  Wyatt’s jaw dropped. “Why in the hell would I do it for you?”

  “…Because, mi amigo,” smirked Clint, “I’ve seen the reporter’s picture on the newspaper blog and she’s a real looker. I’d kinda like to see her in person and ask her out.”

  Wyatt blinked. “…You’re kidding…”

  “Nope.”

  “Now I’m really not interested in this interview. Get your own dates from around here.” He pulled his boots back on and rose from his chair. “Why don’t we practice team roping for the next rodeo? This conversation’s at a close.”

  Clint persisted. “Hey, who was there to help you when that cougar came down out of the hills and attacked your cattle?”

  “Yeah, yeah…”

  “Who helped you dig that new well on your property last year?”

  “Okay, already…”

  Clint rested his hand on Wyatt’s arm to pull out the big one. “…And who’s been there for you since that tragic day three years ago?”

  Wyatt couldn’t refuse him now. Clint had been a rock for him since Missy died and they both knew it.

  He shuffled his feet and looked in his friend’s serious face. “It means that much to you to meet this reporter?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “All right then. Fine…I’ll do it, but this wipes the slate clean. No more markers.”

  Clint smacked the side of his leg with his hat. “Yup. Slate’s clean… Clean as a new baby’s bottom. Clean as spring water out of an artesian well… Clean as…”

  Rolling his eyes, Wyatt held up a hand. “Stop.”

  “Let’s go practice team roping.”

  “…Good. Let’s do something logical and normal, instead of this insane conversation.” But he smiled at Clint who only had his best interests at heart and he knew it. It’s good to have friends…

  * * *

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rebecca had stayed late that night working with Tim, gathering more research. They’d worked for nearly four hours when the editor stuck his head in, grinning at them.

  “Working late, are we?”

  “Yes, Dave, as requested.” She tapped her pencil on the table.

  “Did you reach anyone out there by Allenville?” Dave looked from Tim to Rebecca.

  “Rebecca got ahold of one rancher.” Tim consulted his notes. “…. A Rob Carson.”

  “That right, Sawyer?”

  “Yeah, and he’s promised to find two more ranchers for us to interview.”

  “So he said that he’d do it?”

  “…Apparently so.”

  “That’s good work, reporters… Carry on.” And he left, swinging the conference door shut behind him.

  Rebecca blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m bushed, Tim. Let’s call it a night.”

  Tim stretched out his shoulders and yawned. “Yes, I’m good for tonight. Shall we hit it again tomorrow?”

  “We’d better just hit the road instead. I’ll get the rental car and drive, while you continu
e the research on the way. How would that be? We can decide which questions we want to ask those ranchers.”

  Tim stole a glance into her very lovely dark brown eyes – Seriously long black lashes blinked and made him forget what he was thinking.

  “Tim?” She snapped her fingers in front of him. “You okay?”

  He gulped. “I don’t suppose you’d like to get a drink with me tonight, Rebecca? You know, one for the road, so to speak?” Tim smiled weakly at her as she started to shake her head.

  “Can’t, Tim. We’re fellow reporters. I have a rule about dating colleagues – It just doesn’t work. Hey, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Right? About nine o’clock, you think?”

  If she kept babbling maybe he’d forget he’d asked her out. Lame perhaps, but there it was…

  “…Oh, okay, Rebecca. If that’s how you feel. So… I...I guess I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.” He stood up and gathered his papers. “Goodnight.”

  She nodded at him. “Goodnight.” She blew out a weary breath as he left and then pulled out her cell phone to punch in a number.

  “Ella?”

  “That you, Rebecca? You sound awful.”

  “…Meet me at the Mirage corner bar, would you? I feel terrible.”

  “Mirage in ten. See you there.”

  Sometime during her glass of Chardonnay, Rebecca got around to telling her friend about the conversation with Tim.

  “Honest to God, Ella. He makes me feel like I just kicked his kitty or something.” She took another sip. “He’s definitely got these puppy dog eyes and just begs me for attention.”

  “Yeah, Tim has it bad for you.”

  Rebecca pushed her long hair back. “I’ve never, ever given him one tiny bit of encouragement and he just won’t quit.” She looked up quickly at Ella. “Why don’t you go out with him? He’ll forget me in a heartbeat.”

  “I’m not sure that that would get him away from you. He seems stuck all right.”

  “…Well, he’s just going to have to give up. I’m not even remotely interested in getting hooked up with some guy.”

  “…Ever?”

  “…Not for a very long time. Look at you…” She raised her glass to clink with Ella’s.

  “Look at me what?”

  “You’re a catch and release sort of woman… a serial dater. You never get serious about anyone, so why should I?”

  “Rebecca…There’s a big difference between the two of us.”

  “…Which would be…”

  “I’ve had lots of relationships. Have you really ever had a serious boyfriend?”

  Rebecca pushed another strand of hair back and shook her head. “…No.” Ella shook her head in response.

  “What?”

  “… My dear friend. I know what to look for and I just don’t choose to go there – yet. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to get married someday.”

  Rebecca put down her glass. “You want to get married someday?”

  “Yes, I do. But not yet…”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  Ella fluffed her curly blonde hair and laughed in Rebecca’s face.

  “Sweetie, when you fall, you’re going to fall hard… Look at you.”

  Rebecca obliged and looked down at what she was wearing. “… And?”

  “… You don’t see it now, but you’re gorgeous and sweet and wonderful and you’re going to fall head over heels with a very lucky guy someday.”

  A giggle escaped her lips. “…I am not sweet and wonderful.”

  “Take it from one who knows. I’ve watched you for years, sweetie, and you can be incredibly kind. You just wear that reporter shield wrapped around you like some kind of superhero cape to keep guys away. And it’ll work… for a while.” She slyly grinned.

  “I have a superhero persona?”

  “Yes, let me see now,” Ella tapped a finger to her chin. “How about… Superwoman? Superman was a reporter, so Superwoman could be too.”

  “I’d rather be Supergeek or SuperReporter.”

  “No, those names suck…”

  Rebecca and Ella looked at one another and burst out laughing. “Thanks, Ella. We haven’t solved anything, but I feel better about Tim at least.”

  Ella pushed back her empty glass. “Yeah, I’m sorry about Tim too, but he needs to move on, since you’re stuck in park.”

  Smiling, Rebecca pulled out her credit card. “This night’s on me, but I’ve got to go. Getting up early to hit the road tomorrow.” She held up the card and a server came to collect it.

  “Thanks. And you’re going where to do what again?”

  “Tim and I are traveling west of Mesquite to Allenville to interview three local ranchers about the situation going on out there with that high profile rancher and his BLM problem.”

  “Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “What do these ranchers look like? Any of them single?”

  The server brought her card back and Rebecca signed the bill, frowning at her. “…No idea and I could care less. I just want to know their opinions for the Op-Ed piece Dave wants to run in the Sunday opinion page.”

  “Okay, Rebecca,” she laughed. “Interrogation is over for today. I’ll start back in on you when you get back from Nowheresville, Nevada.”

  “…Got that right. Give me the city any day…”

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  But driving east from Las Vegas with Tim, Rebecca looked around at the landscape unfolding before her. Listening to Tim go on and on about their research, her eyes drank in unbelievable beauty. Her parents had been from a small, rural area in eastern California and the landscape she was seeing was very similar to where she’d grown up. It wasn’t taking much effort on her part to feel comfortable, a sense of belonging.

  She shook her head. Where in the world was her mind going? Small town Nevada was not the place she wanted to find herself. Las Vegas was just fine, thank you. Rebecca glanced over and nodded a few times when Tim made comments her way, but then her mind dissolved again when she gazed back out the windshield. The landscape rolled on and on forever with a few wire fences here and there. Low hills in the background bumped into rocky mountain ranges behind them. Then her eyes followed the mountains as they jutted up into the blue forever sky. She marveled as that sky was as large as any she’d ever seen with masses of puffy clouds everywhere.

  Rolling down her window, she breathed in the fresh air… It did look like where she grew up, which immediately made her sad. Her parents were gone now and she couldn’t seem to go back there. She really had no home…

  It was only an hour and a half out of Las Vegas to Allenville, but finding Rob Carson’s ranch was proving to be a bit difficult. Once she was off Interstate 15, there were lots of dirt roads stretching every which way, and very few signs. Tim’s GPS was only functioning marginally and it became a guessing game as to which big rock led to the Carson Ranch. But find it, they eventually did, although Rebecca was positive that the shocks were totally sprung in her rental car. They bounced along as if they were riding a roller coaster. Obviously, a truck would have been the smarter rental, but it wasn’t even a thought in her head at the time. If she had to return, she’d rent a truck for sure.

  As she drove up to the Carson ranch house, the beauty of the area sideswiped her senses like a fast-moving train. Opening the car door, a breeze whispered in her ear and brushed delicately past her face. She blinked once… and again as she watched Mr. and Mrs. Carson come outside to greet her and Tim.

  Outside the rustic log cabin home was a wooden porch that wrapped snugly around the house. Rocking chairs on the porch lent a homey feel while deer antlers hung from a second story exterior wall. Comforting fragrances of honeysuckle and lavender greeted them. Mrs. Carson was dressed in a long denim skirt and her husband wore well-worn jeans. Their Western shirts had snaps instead of buttons, even on the front pockets.

  Rebecca glanced at Tim, who was taking it all in as well. They were both city-dwellers and coming out t
o the rural West was nearly like visiting someone on Mars. But the Carsons couldn’t have been nicer. They waved at her from the porch.

  “Come in, come in,” said Mary Carson as Rebecca and Tim walked toward the house. “We’re so happy you could find it.”

  Rebecca grinned and shooed a fly away from her face. “…We did have a little trouble, that’s true.”

  “It was that second big rock by the side of the road that tripped you up, right?” laughed Rob Carson, motioning to them. “Please come in and make yourselves at home.”

  The room they were shown into was as rustic as the exterior. Sturdy, wooden framed furniture with colorful cushions was grouped for social gatherings in the large living room. Pine walls with paintings of Western scenes decorated around an immense stone fireplace. Mary showed Rebecca where to freshen up, while Rob took Tim into another part of the house for the second bathroom. When they came back out to the living area, Mary had some iced tea waiting for them.

  “I really hope your trip out here from Las Vegas was as comfortable as possible,” said Mary.

  Rebecca reached for her glass. “Thank you very much. It was a lovely trip actually. The landscape out here is breathtaking.”

  Surprised, Mary looked vaguely at Rob who cast doubtful eyes her way.

  “What?” she laughed while taking a sip of iced tea. “I’m not allowed to enjoy the scenery?”

  “Yes, dear, you are,” replied Mary. “It’s just that city folk like yourself rarely do. It’s refreshing to hear.”

  “Yeah, we usually hear about what a ton of trouble it was to find the place, and how could we ever live way out here.”