“I’ve met a couple,” Repp admitted.
“I want you to get on the phone and call them. See if you can find out anything. They’ll talk to you before they’ll talk to me or the authorities.” After all, Repp was Cathleen’s boyfriend.
“Yes, sir.” He moved to the phone extension in the living room.
“Find out if they can tell you how much money she had with her,” Ty added. “And whether she planned to travel by bus or hitchhike.” Then he turned to the foreman, Jobe Garvey. “I want a man posted at every gate into the Triple C, in case she’s on her way home. In the meantime, I’ll contact the authorities so they can start searching for her.”
The new moon was a cold sliver of light in the night-black sky. There wasn’t enough star glitter to make more than jagged silhouettes of the rough rimrock country against the horizon. Black shadows and dark shapes constantly loomed in front of her and on either side as Cathleen trudged along the rutted, little-traveled track, stumbling on the uneven ground she couldn’t see.
A thousand times she wished for a flashlight. And a thousand more times she wished she hadn’t left the highway. The farther she walked, the more uncertain she became that she had picked the right ranch lane. She should have asked the driver who’d given her a lift to wait until she’d checked to be sure, but she’d been so positive. If she got lost out here, she’d never hear the end of it.
The sudden flapping of wings startled her as a night bird, disturbed by her passing, flew from its roost in a nearby pine tree. Cat paused to catch her breath in the cold night air. She was winded and physically exhausted, already regretting the impulsive actions that had brought her to this point. At the time she made her decision, such drastic measures had seemed necessary. Now her bravado was fading.
Something rustled in the needle-covered ground next to the rutted lane. Cat started forward again. Her legs ached as if she’d walked for miles, and she’d turned her ankle so many times it was sore. There had to be something at the end of this lane, so she kept walking rather than turn back.
After another mile that seemed like two, dark objects began to take shape against the blackness of the ground. They resembled small buildings, and Cat started walking faster. There weren’t any lights showing. At this distance, she couldn’t tell whether they were abandoned or if the occupants were asleep.
A horse whickered suspiciously from the corral, and Cat was reassured the buildings weren’t vacant. As her approach carried her closer, the place began to look more familiar, even in the dark. Renewed confidence gave her a fresh burst of energy, and she broke into a stumbling run the last thirty yards to the house.
“Who’s that?” The voice came from the porch shadows of the darkened house.
“Uncle Culley? It’s me, Cat,” she rushed, out of breath. “I was just about convinced I was lost.”
Boards creaked beneath his feet; then his dark shape moved out of the shadows and came down the steps to meet her. The starlight in the clearing finally gave form and a face to him.
“Cathleen. What are you doing here?” He gripped her shoulders, then reached a hand to turn her face into the dim starlight. “Are you hurt?”
“No, just tired. I walked all the way from the road and I—” Her aches and exhaustion weren’t important now. She quickly switched from complaining to the reason she was here. “At the funeral you said if I ever needed help, I could count on you. Did you mean it?”
“Yes, I meant it.” Just for a minute, he fiercely and protectively hugged this precious image of his sister. Then Culley pulled away, made self-conscious by the physical contact. “You say you walked all that way. You must be tired and half frozen. Let’s get you in the house and put some hot coffee down you.”
“Thanks.” She felt humbled that he hadn’t even asked what kind of trouble she was in. Since she was involving him, it seemed only fair to tell him. She made her confession as they walked up the short flight of steps to the front stoop of the small house. “I ran away from school. I just couldn’t stay there anymore.” Her reasons were too flimsy when voiced aloud, but they were very real to her. “I know my brother is going to be furious with me when he finds out . . . and I’m just not ready to face him yet.”
“He can be as mad as he likes.” He opened the door and reached inside to switch on the overhead light before letting Cat precede him into the house. “But I’ll see that he doesn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I wanted to go home, but I can’t. He’s just going to insist that I go back to school, and I don’t think I could face that. I thought, maybe ... I could stay here with you until I could figure out something.”
A tenderness seemed to radiate through his face. “This is your home. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
Inside the house, he sat her down at the table, insisted on hanging up her coat for her and bringing her coffee, eager as a pup to please her any way he could. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? Maybe something to eat?”
“No, I ate at the hospital.” The warmth from the stove was seeping into her aching body and driving out the chill. All the tension and anxiety over the possibility of facing her irate brother tonight was melting . . . enough so that she reconsidered his offer. “Do you have anything sweet—like chocolate cake or anything?” The minute she asked, Cat doubted a bachelor would go to the trouble of baking for himself.
“No.” Disappointment flickered in his expression. “But I’ve got some store-brought cookies.” He went to the cupboard and returned to the table with a sealed container holding less than a dozen shortbread cookies. “There you are.” He watched her anxiously to see if the alternative met with her approval.
Even if she hadn’t liked them, Cat would have eaten them. She took a couple, dunking them in her coffee and nibbling at the coffee-soaked softness of them. “They’re good. Thanks,” she assured him, and he smiled with a degree of relief. Cat ate the cookies and talked, telling him about her decision to run away, the visit to the hospital, and the ride she’d cadged as far as his lane. When she reached for another cookie, she realized there were only two left. “Here.” She pushed the container to him. “You better have these before I eat them all.”
“Go ahead,” he insisted and shoved it back. “FU get more.”
After a small hesitation, she gave a little shrug of her shoulders and took the last two cookies and started dunking them in her coffee. “Nobody understands the way I feel.” She sighed.
“You know I was just about your age when my momma died,” her uncle said. “Things just never were right after that.”
“I’ll never understand why their plane had to crash.” The anger and frustration of deeply held pain began to surface as her tiredness made her more vulnerable. “Why did that oil line break? Why did she have to die? I’m so tired of everyone telling me it was God’s will. It wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. Why would He want to do that? It wasn’t right!” Her chin began to quiver as she lowered it and fought back the tears that welled in her eyes.
“It wasn’t right,” he agreed and got up from the table, uncomfortable with her tears. “But I’m going to do something about that. I’ve got it all planned out, so don’t worry about nothin’. I’ll take care of it.”
“Take care of what?” Cat frowned in bewilderment as she lifted her head, tilting it to one side. “I don’t understand.”