Page 70 of River Wild

“Earl?” The man hadn’t moved, didn’t even seem to be breathing. “If you prefer not to do this here, I can take you in to the sheriff’s department.”

Slowly, as if sleepwalking, Earl began to unbutton his shirt, his frightened gaze on his wife, who was still looking at the floor. He pulled out one arm, then the other.

“Step over here into the light, if you don’t mind, and turn around,” Stuart said.

Earl shuffled over. The look of dread on his face had the sheriff’s heart thundering in his ears. Something was definitely wrong here. If it was what he thought it was...

The rancher walked into the light, baring a back to Stuart that looked painful and sore. There were patches of red, some oozing and some flaking around the large, swollen tattoo as if someone had tried to scrape it off Earl’s back. The tattoo was of a naked woman. The woman looked nothing like Iris.

He shot a look at Earl’s wife, who still had her head down. The sheriff rose and motioned for Earl to follow him outside. “When did you get the tattoo?” he asked once they were outside, when what he really wanted to ask was why.

Earl looked as chagrinned as his wife as he buttoned up his shirt. “Last week. I was drunk.”

That was a pretty safe bet, Stuart thought. “What day?”

Turned out it was the day Willow Branson was murdered.

“Where’d you have it done?”

“Billings. I guess I told the tattoo artist to surprise me.”

The sheriff nodded, feeling for the man. He’d bet Earl Hall hadn’t been drunk but a few times in his life. “I’m guessing you weren’t alone.”

Earl looked up and swallowed before he shook his head and then looked back toward the house. “It was just someone I met at the implement dealer’s yearly picnic. She dared me.”

“Iris didn’t go to Fargo, did she?” The rancher wagged his head. “Okay, Earl. I’m still looking for Willow Branson’s murderer.”

“Don’t know anything about that.” He frowned. “How’d you hear about my tattoo?”

“I didn’t,” Stuart said. Settling his Stetson onto his head, he started for his patrol SUV. “But it sure looks like it hurts.”

“You have no idea,” Earl said.

HOLLYJODIDN’Twant to go to school Monday morning. She was embarrassed, even though Elaine had assured her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Buck behaved badly,” Elaine said. “The kid’s a jerk. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself and calling Pickett for a ride home. You can also call me or Holden, you know.”

She nodded.

“Buck should be embarrassed, but don’t expect him to be,” the housekeeper told her. “He behaved horribly.”

Holly Jo hesitated. “My first kiss was awful.”

Elaine laughed. “So was mine. You were just kissed by the wrong boy – just like was. When you kiss the right one, one who respects you and wants it to be a good experience for you too, I think you’ll like it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Now to basics. You know about periods? Good. I bought you some options and put them in your bathroom. Holler if you need help. If you have any questions about anything, please come to me. I’ll try my best not to make it embarrassing.”

She’d smiled. “I will.”

And while Elaine had made her feel better, she still worried about facing her friends—and Buck and his friends.

“Head up,” Elaine had said Monday morning when Holly Jo came down ready for school. “You are the master of your own fate and one amazing trick rider. Remember that. You deserve a boy who appreciates you.”

She’d nodded and even smiled as she sat down to have breakfast. She’d spoken with Tana over the weekend. “Buck was such a jerk,” her friend said. “If I were you, I’d never talk to him again.”

When the bus came, Holly Jo had climbed aboard, surprised to see Tana, who usually caught a ride with a friend’s older sister.

---