Page 65 of Dark Side of the River

Oakley’s eyes widened. “You think that’s what I found and one of them shot me?”

“We think it’s possible, though you were shot with a slug from a 270 rifle. The men who shot at us had AR15s.”

“You got shot at?” Oakley cried, looking to her sister.

“We’re fine. Unfortunately, before the sheriff or the Feds could get to the lab, it burned to the ground, taking any evidence with it,” Tilly said.

“I suppose that could explain what I was doing back in there, if I was looking for the meth lab,” Oakley said, not sounding at all sure about that.

“We also suspect that you’d been going to the meetings of a group called Dirty Business,” Cooper said. “It’s a grassroots organization trying to stop the methane drilling. Pickett Hanson, one of our ranch hands, is a member.”

“You really have been digging into my life.” She didn’t look that comfortable with that revelation. “It’s no secret that I’m an environmentalist, a dirty word around these parts. Don’t get me started on coalbed methane drilling.”

“There is something else. The day you were shot, you weren’t alone,” Cooper said. “There was another rider either chasing you or with you.” Her eyebrows went up. “Have you been seeing someone recently? Someone like Pickett Hanson?”

Oakley grinned and pretended to lock her lips. “I’ve been busy trying to get our new governor to do something about coalbed methane drilling. I don’t think I have to tell you which side he’s on.”

“You haven’t been dating anyone?” Tilly asked.

Oakley shook her head. “I haven’t had the time. It’s why I need to get out of here. I felt like I was making headway with some of the ranchers in the area. Not our mother or CJ.” She sighed. “I swear, they are impossible.”

Tilly moved to her sister’s side. “I’m so glad you’re getting well. I’ve missed you. When you were shot...” Her voice broke.

Oakley took her hand. “I know we haven’t talked much.” She glanced at Cooper, then back to her sister, and smiled. “But we will talk. So much to ask.”

Tilly laughed and leaned down to give Oakley an awkward hug. “You are incorrigible.”

“That’s what Mother says. Hey, the next time you come in, could you do me a favor? I need my passwords.” She gave Tilly a don’t-say-it look. “I have a concussion. Of course I don’t remember them. I wrote them down in my desk drawer at home on a piece of paper. Please?”

Tilly laughed. “I’ll bring them.”

“Don’t look at them. Just bring them.” Oakley smiled. “Thanks, sis.”

Cooper and Tilly left, walking out of the hospital together as the sun hung in a cobalt blue sky. July had come to Powder Crossing. Small American flags on lampposts flapped in the breeze. There was a feeling in the air that anything was possible, Tilly thought. She loved summer, but hoped this year wouldn’t be so hot. They needed more rain; it was all local ranchers had been talking about. They also needed an old-fashioned winter with lots and lots of snow.

It seemed to her it was always something. Grasshoppers, heat, lack of rain, wind, hail that ruined the crops or a winter that the cold killed the calves born too early. She didn’t understand why people ranched, and yet it was all she’d ever known. All she’d ever wanted to do.

She looked over at Cooper, wondering if he felt the same way. He’d left for more than two years. But he’d come back. To stay?

“What?” he asked, as if feeling her probing gaze.

Tilly shook her head, afraid to ask, afraid of his answer. “I talked to Stuart this morning.”

He stopped walking to look at her. “How’d that go?”

“Good, I think. I hope. He’s sad. I’m not sure it has that much to do with us. I think he’s searching for something.” She shrugged.

Cooper nodded. “I know that feeling.”

She swallowed, wishing he could say more and hoping he didn’t. When he looked at her, though, she saw the answer she wanted in his gaze. Maybe he was through searching.

“I’ve got to pick up a few things for the ranch,” he said. “Then do a horseback riding lesson with Holly Jo.”

“I’ve got things to do too,” she said.

“Talk later?”

She nodded. As he walked away, she could tell that he had hoped Oakley might be able to tell them what the wordbuttercupmeant and why it had been so important after she was shot.

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