Montana Midwife (9 page)

“It won’t,” Tab said emphatically. “She’s innocent.”

“I’ll talk to her.” He glanced up at Misty’s second-floor bedroom window at the far right end of the house. The lights were still on. “Looks like she’s still awake. I’ll catch her before she goes to sleep.”

“I have a question,” she said. “Does Clinton stay here with Misty?”

“No.” Aiden had laid down the law on this topic. “Unless they get married, Clinton doesn’t live here.”

“Well, aren’t you the old-fashioned one.”

“I don’t have a problem with Clinton visiting and even spending the night, but there’s a commitment that comes with having a baby, and they both need to step up, make plans and act like grown-ups.”

“Does he have a job?”

“My mom hired him.” He didn’t like that arrangement, but the economy was tough, and Clinton hadn’t been able to find other employment. “But he doesn’t stay in the bunkhouse. He lives in Henley with his parents. The Browns are good folks, and they agree with me.”

“But how does Misty feel about the arrangement?”

Most of his sister’s feelings and attitudes were incomprehensible to him. She’d laugh when she ought to cry. She could handle a big trauma but would blow up over breaking a heel on her shoe. “I think she gets it. There’s a reason she hasn’t married Clinton, and it’s not because he hasn’t asked. He did the honorable thing and came to me for permission.”

“Another old-time tradition,” she said. “Is the Gabriel ranch in some kind of time warp?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Not for you,” she said. “For someone like me, it’s a different story. I’m half Crow and half white. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t fare well in the Old West.”

“A beautiful woman like you always has an advantage.”

“Thanks, but—” with a flick of her slender wrist, she brushed his compliment aside “—there’s a lot more expected from a modern woman than being pretty. What’s it going to take for me to drag you into this century?”

“Go ahead.” He grinned. “You can try to change my mind.”

“Challenge accepted.”

They stepped onto the porch, and he made a point of opening the door for her. There was nothing wrong with his supposedly old-fashioned view of life. His father, his grandfather and his great-grandfather had raised cattle on this land, built a small empire and made a good life for their families. Not a damn thing wrong with that.

In the front room, the sheriff paced with his cell phone to his ear, still irritated and hostile. Misty occupied a big leather chair near the fireplace with her feet in fuzzy slippers up on an ottoman. His mom and Blake were opposite her on the love seat.

His mom rose and came toward them. She took Tab’s hands and smiled. “Maria was exhausted. I told her to go to bed.”

“I appreciate that, Sylvia. Grandma needs her sleep.”

“Come here.” Sylvia pulled her into a warm hug. “There hasn’t been time for us to say a proper hello. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Same here.”

Over his mom’s shoulder, Tab gave him a wink. He wondered how long it would take for his mom to start fitting her for a wedding gown. For a woman so dead set on matchmaking, his mom was doing a good job of holding Blake at bay. Tab had included him in her hugging, and they resembled the beginnings of one big happy family.

He couldn’t join in, not yet. Aiden had a job to do. He needed to mend fences with Sheriff Fielding who had just ended his phone call. Like it or not, the sheriff was his best source of information.

Aiden cleared his throat. “Your deputies did a fine job in arresting those two. They were thorough.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“You know how much I respect you and your men.” And that was the genuine truth. More than once, the idea of becoming a lawman had crossed his mind. “We’ve worked together on rescues and searches. I’ve never turned my back when you’ve asked for help, and I hope we can continue with that kind of cooperation.”

The sheriff nodded slowly. “Apology accepted.”

Aiden hadn’t actually humbled himself enough to ask for forgiveness.
Real men never say they’re sorry.
He winced a little bit as he realized that was probably another example of his old-fashioned thinking. But it worked. He and the sheriff were back on the same page and he was free to ask, “What was in that note the boys threw at the house?”

“They wrote it in crayon on a piece of notebook paper,” Sheriff Fielding said with obvious disgust. “Real childish. Real stupid.”

Misty piped up, “I saw the note. My name was scribbled, all mean and nasty, and it said David’s death was on my head.”

He glanced toward his sister. Usually, she liked being the center of attention, but not like this. Her eyelids drooped. Her skin was pale. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired.”

While Tab and his mother rushed to Misty’s side, Aiden lowered his voice to speak to the sheriff. “Is this the kind of nonsense you expect from Chuck and Woody?”

“They’ve both got juvenile records. Nothing serious.”

“They claimed that they were just shooting in the air, but I want some serious charges so they understand that gunfire of any kind isn’t acceptable.”

“I agree,” the sheriff said. “That prank could have turned dangerous.”

The sheriff had been looking for a gang, and now he had the start of one with Woody and Chuck. Aiden wanted more information, but he didn’t expect the sheriff to be forthcoming in front of the other people in the room, especially Misty. He nodded toward the kitchen. “Sheriff, you look like you could use some coffee.”

“If I have caffeine at this hour, I’ll never get to sleep.”

“A beer?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea.”

His mom caught the reference to beverages and was already moving toward them. Aiden gestured for her to step back. “I’ll make the tea. You take care of Misty.”

In the kitchen, he set the teakettle on the burner and sat at the table opposite the sheriff. “Earlier tonight, you said that you suspected the murders might be the work of a gang. Are there any other guys that Chuck and Woody hang out with?”

“All these kids pal around together. Like Wally the Buffalo Man said, they get together for parties and make a ruckus. They can get away with a lot as long as they don’t cause a disturbance in town.”

“So they go to the rez.”

“I guess they do. Two and a half million acres of land that’s mostly unsupervised is real tempting.”

“Is there anyone who stands out?” Aiden asked. “A leader of the pack.”

“I’ve been keeping my eye on a guy who’s only been in town for six months or so. He’s older than these kids, probably twenty-six or twenty-seven, and a ski bum type. They call him Aspen Jim. His last name is Sherman.”

“Where does he work?”

“At the feed store. He must have known the girl who got murdered. She worked there, too.”

The teakettle gave a whistle, and Aiden put together a couple of mugs with tea bags and sugar. His natural inclination was to ask direct questions and expect answers, but he was still on thin ice with the sheriff and needed to be cautious. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask about your investigation.”

“Let’s just keep in mind that this is my investigation.
Mine
, not yours.” The sheriff raised his mug and took a sip of the hot tea. “And there are some things I can’t tell you. After all, your sister is a suspect.”

“I understand.”

Aiden was counting on the years of goodwill his family had established with the people in these parts. The Gabriel ranch was a big employer, his mom attended church regularly, and Aiden had the reputation of being fair and honest. To keep Misty out of jail, he might need to call in a whole lot of favors.

“Tell you what,” the sheriff said, “you go ahead and ask your questions. If I need to hold back, I’ll tell you.”

“Fair enough.” He gave a nod. “When do you think you’ll get those autopsy reports back from Billings?”

“A couple of days,” he said. “They put a rush on it. If we’ve got a serial killer dumping bodies on the rez, we need to know.”

Joseph Lefthand had strongly suggested that possibility at the meeting in Crow Agency. He’d warned people in law enforcement to be on the lookout. “What can you tell me about Ellen Jessop’s murder?”

“Her body was found in a gully not far from where Spring Creek Road takes a jog. I wouldn’t mind if you happened to fly over with your chopper. You might be able to see something that the guys on the ground missed.”

Aiden nodded. “If I see anything, I’ll report to you.”

“Ellen’s death might not be related to David’s, but it’s hard not to put the two together. Not that Wally is a reliable witness, but he said that he saw David with Ellen.”

“What can you tell me about the other murdered girl?”

“Raped.” The sheriff winced as he sipped his tea. “Bruising showed she’d been beaten, and the cause of death was manual strangulation. She’d been restrained. When they found the body, her wrists were still tied together.”

“What kind of knots?”

“Nothing special,” the sheriff said, “figure eight knots and bowlines. Sailors use those knots, but so do cowboys.”

“No DNA or fingerprints?”

“Nothing.” The sheriff finished off his tea and pushed back his chair to stand. “I’m about done here. Before I go, I’d like to take Tab’s statement.”

“She’ll be relieved to give it to you.”

“I remember her from way back. She was a skinny little thing, but when she looked at you with those blue eyes, she’d make you stop and stare. She’s grown into a pretty woman.”

“I won’t disagree,” Aiden said. She was most definitely a pretty woman, and she kissed like there was no tomorrow.

“Smart, too. We could use a professional midwife in these parts. I sure hope she decides to stick around.”

Aiden intended to do everything in his power to convince her to stay. This was the place she belonged, the place she would learn to call home.

* * *

B
RIGHT AND EARLY THE
next morning, Tab took her coffee mug onto the porch and perched on the railing facing her grandma who had settled into a rocking chair. A relaxed smile stretched across Grandma’s lined and weathered face. She reminded Tab of Yoda or the Native American version of Buddha—an icon of wisdom, strength and happiness.

If she told her grandma about the kiss last night, she wondered what Maria Spotted Bear would advise her to do. Should she play hard to get? Should she flirt? Or should she shamelessly throw herself at him? Seeing Aiden this morning could be complicated.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Tab said. Not a cloud in sight, the newly risen sun illuminated the big blue Montana sky. Flying in daylight would be a new experience, one she was anxious to try.

“Not too cold,” Grandma said as she sipped from her own steaming mug. “It’s a good November.”

Tab savored the rich, fragrant coffee. Since her grandma preferred tea, she seldom indulged the coffee habit she’d developed in Missoula when working late nights with women in labor. “Are you ready to head for home?”

“Not so fast. Let me drink my coffee.”

“Really? You’re not having tea?”

“Sylvia adds a pinch of wild chicory root for me. It’s good for digestion. I brought her a supply for when I visit.”

“I never realized that you and Sylvia were so close.”

“For many years,” Grandma said, “even before you were born.”

“Tell me.” Tab settled back to listen. Her grandma’s stories were always interesting and often had some kind of message. She considered it her duty to educate Tab, not only in the ways of the tribe but in the ways of life.

“When they were young mothers, Sylvia and your mom used to spend much time together. They worked on projects together, beading and knitting. My beautiful Emma was as dark and intense as the moon while Sylvia was blonde and bright. They both liked artful things. When Sylvia came into Billings to see
The Nutcracker
ballet, she stayed at your house.”

Tab vaguely remembered going to the ballet when she was a little girl. Dancing wasn’t her thing, but she loved getting all dressed up for the big performance.

“When Emma died,” Grandma continued, “Sylvia was a comfort to me. And I returned the solace when she lost her husband. Why do you think I allowed you to spend that summer babysitting Misty instead of staying at my house?”

“To help Sylvia?”

“And to teach you a lesson. You never had brothers or sisters. Being with Misty showed you how to take care of another person who needed your help.”

Since Tab ended up in a helping profession, she figured that the lesson had been well learned. “It might have been a turning point for me.”

“Misty still needs our help,” her grandma said. “I want to stay here at the ranch until I know she’s safe.”

Tab understood the sentiment, but staying here wasn’t practical. “They might never catch the murderer.”

“They will,” her grandma said in a tone of certainty that ended all discussion.

“What about Shua?”

“I already called the neighbors. Sam Tall Grass will take care of the horse and tend to the house. He’s done it before.”

Tab couldn’t object on the basis of her business. All she needed was her cell phone to stay in contact with her clients, and she usually went to them instead of the other way around. The real problem with staying at the ranch was Aiden.

After last night’s kiss, she couldn’t pretend that he meant nothing to her. But she didn’t want to rush into a relationship that was very likely to blow up in her face. “I’m not sure if we should stay.”

Aiden came around the corner of the barn. Striding toward the house, he waved. Even at this distance, she could tell that he was grinning, and she couldn’t help smiling back.

“A piece of advice,” her grandma said.

“Yes?”

“Follow your heart.”

Thanks, Yoda.
But her heart wasn’t crystal clear. She wanted to take a chance with him, but she was afraid. An old-fashioned cowboy who didn’t want her involved in his investigating wouldn’t be happy with a woman who thought for herself, took care of herself and made her own decisions.

The closer he got, the faster her heart beat. She moved to the edge of the porch. The soles of her feet were itching to run, either to dive into his arms or to charge past him and keep on going. Reaching up, she grasped the porch railing, anchoring herself. She’d stay. Just for today, she would stay.