here on Rhodes Ranch where he had lived and worked most of his eighty-five years-here in the modest home he and his wife had loved so much-it was okay to feel thankfulness as well.
Clayton had lived a good life-a long and useful one. He had worked for Joanna not so much because he needed the money, but because he needed to be needed-because he knew that taking care of Joanna’s livestock made her life easier. He had been in full possession of his faculties right up until the moment he died. Instead of lingering helplessly as an empty shell of his former self in some sterile hospital-bed prison, he had been up and about and on his way to work when death overtook him-when it caught him on the fly. Clayton may have had to give up on horseback riding, but as far as Joanna was concerned, he had died with his boots on in the best sense of the phrase.
Before turning off the living room light fixture, Joanna made one last survey of her surroundings. Once again she examined the stiffly posed wedding picture of Molly and Clayton, but this time, as she did so, she realized it was the only picture in the room. There were places on the wall where other pictures had once hung, but all of them had been removed, leaving behind a ghostly testimony of their existence in the form of clear rectangular-shaped pieces of wallpaper pattern in an otherwise sun-faded room. Joanna found herself wishing that the pictures had been left behind long enough for her to see them. Old photos might have told her a little more about the long, productive life of her dead friend, Clayton Rhodes. They might have given her something to remember him by.
As Joanna pulled the front door shut and stuffed the graceful old skeleton key into her pocket, she felt as though she were closing the door not only on a chapter in her life, but on a whole era as well. Once in the Blazer, Joanna followed her deputies back out to High Lonesome Road and as far as the turnoff to her own place. When she drove into the yard, she was startled to find Butch Dixon’s Subaru parked next to the gate. By the time she had parked and locked the Blazer, he was coming out through the back door to meet her.
“What are you doing here?” Joanna asked after kissing him hello.
“I called to tell you good night,” Butch replied. “When Jenny answered and told me what was going on, I decided to come over and wait up for you. How’s Clayton?”
“He’s dead,” Joanna said hollowly. “George thinks he suffered some kind of catastrophic physical incident-a heart attack or a stroke maybe. It looks as though Clayton was on his way here this morning when it happened.”
Butch reached out and put a comforting arm around Joanna’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
Joanna leaned against him. “Me, too,” she returned.
“Does he have any family?”
“A daughter, Reba Singleton. She lives in California.”
“Have you been in touch with her?”
“We tried. I left word for her to call here if she wants additional information. There haven’t been any calls, have there?”
“Only from your mother,” Butch said. “I checked caller ID to screen the call. When I saw it was Eleanor, I decided not answering was my best bet. After all, what Eleanor doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Joanna grinned up at him. “You’re learning,” she said.
They went into the house. “I may be learning with your mother,” Butch replied, leaning against the dryer while Joanna removed her jacket and hung it on the peg. “But I almost blew it with Jenny,” he added.
“You did?” Joanna asked. “How so?”
“By coming over to wait up for you. She was so bent out of shape when I showed up that for a while I didn’t think she was going to unlock the door and let me in. She thought you had sicced me on her-sent me out as an emergency baby-sitter. I finally managed to convince her otherwise.”
“How?”
“By telling her that baby-sitting was the last thing on my mind. That I had come out here primarily because I had designs on her mother’s body.”
Joanna was shocked. “You didn’t tell her that!”
Now it was Butch’s turn to grin. “I did,” he said. “Scout’s honor. Got me right out of the dog house. Turned us into co-conspirators.”
“Butch,” Joanna objected. “Jenny’s only eleven!”
“Almost twelve and going on thirty,” he replied. “Believe me, that kid knows all about the birds and bees.”
“She shouldn’t,” Joanna huffed.
“Maybe not, but she does. Now come on. You wouldn’t want to make a liar out of me, would you? Besides, you feel like a chunk of ice. I know just the thing to warm you up.”
Joanna started to argue, but then she didn’t. She
“Come on, then,” she said. “Will you still be this horny after we’re married?”
“Absolutely,” Butch Dixon said, once again assuming his now lecherous grin. “I promise.”
CHAPTER 4
A tiny sound right next to Joanna’s ear brought her fully awake. She opened her eyes. The sun was up. Jennifer Ann Brady, completely dressed and with her blond hair already neatly combed, stood beside the bed, grinning from ear to ear and bearing a cookie sheet laden with two steaming cups of coffee. Seeing her fully clothed daughter, Joanna was instantly aware that, except for a concealing mound of covers, she herself was stark-naked.
“It’s about time you guys woke up,” Jenny declared airily as she set the tray on the bedside table nearest her mother. “We’re supposed to be going to Tucson this morning, remember? And don’t worry. I won’t tell Grandma.”
With that, Jenny turned and flounced from the room. Behind Joanna, on the other side of the bed, Butch Dixon groaned and rolled over. He was no more dressed than Joanna was.
“Oops,” he said. “Bad move. I meant to be up and out by now. We must have overslept.”
“Overslept doesn’t quite cover it,” Joanna told him crossly. “I believe the correct term is caught with our pants down.”
“Not just down,” he said. “Mine aren’t even within grabbing distance. Sorry about that.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “I’ll get dressed right away.”
“Forget it,” Joanna said. “You already spilled the beans last night, and since Jenny brought us coffee, we could just as well drink it before we crawl out of bed.”
She pulled a pillow up behind him. Once Butch leaned back against the headboard and drew the sheet back across his bare chest, she handed him his cup of coffee.
“Somehow it seemed like a better idea last night than it does now that the sun’s up,” he told her ruefully. “What do you suggest we do now?”
Joanna was glad to hear that Butch sounded almost as embarrassed as she was. “Brazen it out, I guess,” she answered. “We sure as hell can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.”
At that, Butch leaned over and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder. “By the way,” he said. “Did anyone ever tell you that you keep pretty ungodly hours-for a girl?”
The use of the word “girl” was standard fare in Butch’s unending lexicon of teasing. Most of the time Joanna ignored it, but for some reason on this occasion it hit her wrong and put her on the defensive.
“Wait a minute, pal. We’re not even married yet and already you’re complaining about my job?”
“Don’t get your nose out of joint,” Butch assured her. “All I’m saying is don’t expect me to wait up for you every night. Obviously I need more beauty sleep than you do.”
“Oh,” Joanna said, but she was still a little grumpy about it.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. “More coffee?” Jenny asked, pushing it open a crack.
“Hadn’t we better get up and take care of the animals?” Butch asked.
That’s when Joanna remembered that Jenny didn’t yet know about Clayton Rhodes. No one had told her.
“No, thanks,” Joanna told Jenny. “We’ll be out in a minute. We’ll have more in a little while.”
When Jenny retreated from the door, Butch pulled on his shirt and pants and then hotfooted it into the
