Page 81 of River Wild

At the sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder, he started and turned quickly to find the county prosecutor looking much like Stuart felt. Ashen. But concern for him was written all over her face.

“That was ugly,” the prosecutor said. “You going to be all right?”

That was a question Stuart had been asking himself for months. “I have no idea.”

BAILEYFELTNUMBas she sat on the sheriff’s front porch, watching the day fade. Stuart’s house sat on a slight hill with a view of the Powder River now snaking its way north, bordered by golden-leafed cottonwoods cutting through the river bottom. Overhead, the sky darkened into her favorite clear, deep blue, while to the west, the sun’s prism of pinks and reds and oranges rimmed the purples of the mountains. She could feel dusk begin to settle in around her. She liked this time of day, always had.

It was over. After twelve long years, her search was over. So why did she feel empty inside, hollowed out? Her attacker was dead. She’d shot him, seen him die. His accomplice would soon be on her way to prison. She thought of Norma’s fudge and felt sick to her stomach.

She’d been wrong about more than how she would feel whenhewas dead. She’d eliminated Ralph from the list, but now couldn’t remember why. It had to be more than the feeling that Ralph was harmless, always so polite and nice, the first one to help anyone in trouble—just like his wife had been when Bailey was growing up.

That’s when she remembered. Ralph had an alibi. Norma had told her that she’d had to leave the barbecue early because she was sick. Several others from the barbecue had verified it. As far as anyone knew, she and Ralph had left together. Bailey had never verified if anyone had seen Ralph right before or when they were leaving. Norma had lied and somehow gotten him off the ranch without anyone seeing Ralph injured and bleeding.

Everyone in the Powder River Basin must be as shocked as she’d been. She’d been taken to the house, her father standing guard over nosy neighbors and will-wishing friends. Until she’d sneaked out and come here, where she felt more at home than she did at the massive home her father had built on the ranch. Her father would never understand that—she didn’t herself.

At the sound of a vehicle, she squinted into the growing darkness to see Stuart’s patrol SUV pull in. Just the sight of him as he stepped out made her feel better. He was still moving slowly because of his cracked ribs, but he smiled when he saw her as if he’d known this was where she’d come.

She saw then that he’d picked up a six-pack of beer. He pulled one loose and handed it to her before opening one for himself. They sat listening to the familiar sounds of Powder Crossing and the river that ran through it.

“I need to give you this back,” Bailey said as she turned the engagement ring on her finger. Stuart started to object, but she stopped him. “It wasn’t a real engagement.” She pulled off the ring and held it out to him.

He stared at the ring in her hand but didn’t move to take it. “Does it count that I wanted to believe it was real?” When she said nothing, he took the ring, studying it in his palm for a moment before he pocketed it.

HOLDENHADLIVEDnext to this river his whole life. He’d never doubted how important it was to their livelihood. But as he rode along its edge this morning, he couldn’t imagine ever living anywhere that there wasn’t flowing water. He’d watched this river make its way north for years. He’d heard every joke about the Powder.

He often thought of what his grandmother had told him when he was a boy:It’s unlucky to part company with someone near a stream.Looking back, he knew he should have taken her words more seriously. It had been near a stream where he and Lottie had parted company. That certainly was unlucky.

But then again, his grandmother also said that if you were trying to get away from supernatural creatures, crossing running water was usually a good way to leave them behind. Lottie was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, but there was nothing supernatural going on there—unless it was love.

In the years since, he’d never questioned the power of free running water. He’d tried to live his life like a river that keeps flowing. But while a river didn’t change its direction and just kept moving, he couldn’tnotlook back. He had tried to forget the past and focus on the future. But when it came to Lottie, he’d failed. He couldn’t forget her.

Which was why he was riding his horse over to their spot on the creek this morning. Bailey was safe, her attacker and Willow’s killer dead, his accomplice in jail. Tilly was fine. Her contractions had been a false alarm, so that excitement too had passed. He’d put off trying to see Charlotte for as long as he could. Heart on his sleeve, he rode into the cool shadows of the cottonwoods and saw her.

She sat on her favorite large boulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her gaze on the water running past. Her horse was tied to a tree back on Stafford Ranch property. It whinnied as if glad to see his mare, and Lottie looked up.

His throat tightened as he ground-tied his horse and made his way toward her on the rocks in the creek. She hadn’t moved. She didn’t even appear to be breathing as he neared.

He remembered all the other times, the good and the bad. The times they made love along the grassy shore. Also how she would threaten him with her whip or her rifle, both times still sitting on her horse, he noted.

Words failed him as he looked into her beautiful green eyes. As they filled with tears, he reached for her, dragging her from the rock into his arms. She melted against him, her arms going around his neck. They held each other like that for a long time.

Holden could hear the water, smell the fallen dried leaves of the cottonwoods, feel Lottie in his arms. A flock of geese cut a V in the brilliant blue of the Montana sky overhead, honking as they passed.

“You came home,” he whispered, drawing back just enough to look into her eyes. She held his gaze and nodded. “Promise you’ll never leave again.”

Her smile filled his heart like helium. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he pulled her closer. Lottie had come home. He felt such a surge of hope, the future suddenly looking brighter. Anything was possible.

HOLLYJOHADknown that Tana wouldn’t ride the bus long. Especially after she got a boyfriend with a driver’s license and his father’s old pickup.

But that was all right, because Holly Jo and Gus were talking again. As if it had happened overnight, Gus had shot up a few inches, which had made him as tall or taller than the other boys his age. He looked stronger, too, since he’d been working with his dad.

But the real change in Gus was because of what happened at school. She’d heard about it from Tana.

“Apparently Gus overheard Buck saying something rude about you, Holly Jo. Gus just walked up to Buck and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor. Then Gus stood over him and said, ‘If you ever say something like that about Holly Jo again, I’ll kick your butt.’”

Holly Jo pretended to be embarrassed by the whole thing. But she couldn’t help being proud of her old friend for sticking up for her. It changed how the other kids saw Gus as well. It gave him a kind of cred. He began making more friends. Even Buck and his friends gave him a wide berth as if Gus had earned their respect.

She and Gus had started sitting together on the bus. They’d become friends again. He came over to the ranch, where they rode horses together. She taught him a couple of tricks. The one thing she realized when she and Gus hung out together was that she wasn’t ready to grow up. Not yet. Her life after being kidnapped had changed too fast. She didn’t like the person she’d become with Buck. She hadn’t been ready.

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