“Selfish, was she?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“And I guess you weren’t a bit selfish.”
“She got anything she wanted.”
“Even you?”
Lincoln turned around and looked at Chester. “I married her, didn’t I?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant. Just because you stand up in front of a preacher and promise to give yourself to the other person, doesn’t mean you do. Lots of folks say the vows and pay no attention to them. How much time did you spend with her? I’m not talking about just being there in body. I’m talking about being there in mind and heart.”
Had he been there in mind and heart? He had loved her. But if he was honest, he hadn’t given his heart one hundred percent. His work was his heart, and his mind had usually been on that. Even when he’d been with his wife. Yes, she had been self-centered, always talking about what she wanted and needed. But hadn’t he been self-centered too by using his work as an excuse to ignore those needs? Maybe if he had given her more, she would have needed less.
“I guess I made mistakes too,” he said.
Chester nodded as he always did when his boys figured something out. “Now learn from those mistakes so you don’t make the same mistakes twice.”
“There won’t be a next time. I’m thinking the bachelor life is more my style.”
“You’ve just been burned, boy, and are afraid to get near the fire. Give it time and you’ll be ready to try again.” Chester spit a stream of tobacco into an old coffee can that he used for a spittoon. “So, you still haven’t discovered anything new about where Sam Sweeney went after he left here?”
It was the opportunity Lincoln had been waiting for. “No. And I was wondering if we could go over the day you rode back to the ranch to check on Val again.”
“We’ve already gone over and over it. I rode back to check on Val and saw Sam leaving in his truck in a cloud of dust.”
“And then what?”
“Then I left.”
“Without checking to see if Val was okay?”
“I saw him standing in the open door of the barn and he looked fine to me.”
And yet Val hadn’t seen Chester. “Why didn’t you ever mention seeing Val before?”
Chester shrugged his bony shoulders. “The older you get, the fuzzier your brain gets. I’m lucky if I remember what day it is.”
Chester was getting to the age where people started to forget things, but Lincoln struggled to believe he was one of those people. The man remembered the name of every horse and bull he’d ever ridden and every detail of those rides. He was hiding something. Lincoln knew it.
“You didn’t talk to Sam again after he left the ranch?”
“Nope.”
“That’s the truth?”
“God’s honest.”
Lincoln studied Chester. He looked like he was telling the truth, but something wasn’t right. And yet, he couldn’t come out and call the old guy a liar. “If you remember anything else, you need to tell me. Me. Not Deputy Meriwether.”
Chester nodded. “I was sure surprised to hear she’s Senator Meriwether’s daughter.” No more surprised than Lincoln had been. “He’s one of the few politicians I like. He has a good head on his shoulders.”
Unlike his daughter, Lincoln thought. Dixie Leigh Meriwether had a beautiful head, but not a good one. He couldn’t help wondering how the senator’s daughter was such a ditz. And now he was responsible for that ditz. His boss had made it clear during their phone conversation that Lincoln was to make sure the senator’s daughter was kept safe and sound until she quit—which the senator was convinced would happen soon. If Lincoln could make her quit sooner rather than later, the senator would be very appreciative and would put in a good word for Lincoln with the chief of the Texas Rangers. Lincoln’s boss hadn’t come out and out and said it would get Lincoln the promotion to lieutenant he was hoping for, but it had been alluded to.
Lincoln wanted that promotion, but he didn’t like getting it this way. He understood the senator wanted to watch out for his daughter. He did not understand him wanting to control her . . . and using Lincoln to do it. Lincoln didn’t like being used. If getting rid of Deputy Meriwether wouldn’t be good for everyone in Simple, he might have ignored the senator’s request. But Lincoln wanted Sam Sweeney’s case to be closed as soon as possible. That wouldn’t happen with the senator’s daughter trying to play detective.
Thunder rumbled overhead, followed quickly by the splatter of raindrops hitting the metal roof of the barn.
Chester got to his feet and walked to the open door. “Looks like a gully washer.” He glanced at Lincoln. “Maybe you should head into town and check on Lucas.”
Dixon’s Boardinghouse was a big rambling plantation-style house on the outskirts of Simple. Since it was raining even harder, Lincoln pulled right up to the large veranda. He left the engine running as he jumped out of his truck and hurried up the steps. It was late, and as he was contemplating whether to ring the doorbell or call Val—who always stayed up late writing—Val spoke.
“Linc?”
He turned to see Val and his new bride cuddled up beneath a quilt on the porch swing. Judging by Reba’s flushed face, he was pretty sure he’d interrupted a heavy-duty make out session. Hopefully, that was all they’d been doing.
He pulled off his cowboy hat and shook the rain off it. “Sorry to interrupt. I just stopped by to pick up Lucas. I didn’t want him driving home in the storm.”
Reba glanced at Val. “I thought you were going to call Linc and tell him
