still does, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t know,” Marybeth lied.
Missy lowered her head slightly and smiled woman-to-woman. “Marybeth, if anyone can get Mr. Romanowski’s attention, it’s you. Do you forget what you told me a few years ago?”
Marybeth sighed and shook her head. “You never fail to disappoint. That’s why I don’t confide in you anymore, Mom. It’s like handing you bullets to use on me at a later date.”
“That’s a cruel thing to say. By the way, did Joe ever know?”
Marybeth’s voice got hard. “ Nothing happened . Besides, Joe and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
Missy chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, dear, you still have so much to learn.”
“I have to get to work,” Marybeth said, pushing away from the table. “Besides, Nate’s in love these days. He’s different. He’d never consider your proposition.”
“Honey,” Missy said, “how do you think he makes a living? Haven’t you ever wondered about that?”
Marybeth had. But like Joe, she never wanted to find out.
“Let Nate make up his own mind,” Missy said. “He’s got a mind of his own, doesn’t he?”
Marybeth refused to respond.
“Just pass along the word,” Missy said, standing up. “That’s all we ask. Tell him we’ll make it more than worthwhile for him. You know The Earl. He’s fed up with Bud, and money’s no object. As for Nate, my understanding is his lady love has a toddler she’s raising on a teacher’s salary. I’m sure she could use some support.”
Marybeth snatched both cups from the table and took them to the sink so she could keep her back to her mother.
“You owe me this one,” Missy said quietly. “Don’t forget what we’ve done for Vicki, the girl you pawned off on us last year. Vicki is getting the very best of care, thanks to us.”
Marybeth closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Vicki was a foster child who’d entered their lives and needed extensive mental and physical treatment. Marybeth had only one place to turn: Missy. Since then, a pair of grandparents had shown up and offered to take Vicki in when she completed treatment, but Missy still paid the bills. Marybeth knew at the time she was handing her mother more bullets.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Missy said. “Have Nate call me on my cell.”
Marybeth didn’t turn around. She heard her mother call good-bye to Lucy down the hallway and go outside. In a moment, the motor on the black Hummer roared to life.
WHEN THE PHONE RANG she snatched it off the cradle, expecting Joe’s voice.
Instead, a man said, “May I please speak to Mr. Joseph Pickett?”
“This is Marybeth Pickett. Who may I ask is calling?”
The man identified himself as Dr. Vincent DeGrasso of the Rimrock Extended Care Facility in Billings, Montana. Marybeth felt a chill sweep through her.
“Joseph’s father is George Pickett, correct?”
“Yes.”
DeGrasso obviously made these kinds of calls often. “I hate to call with bad news, Mrs. Pickett, but Joseph’s father has taken a serious turn. Somehow, he convinced a friend to smuggle in a half gallon of vodka last Sunday, and from what we can tell he drank it all in one sitting. The alcohol reacted with his medication and he went into toxic shock. Right now he’s in the ICU and his organs are shutting down.”
Marybeth closed her eyes. “How long?”
“We doubt he’ll last the week. Even if we can keep him alive, he’s not ever going to be lucid or functional again. A decision needs to be made.”
“My God.”
“There was a moment of consciousness this morning,” DeGrasso said. “George asked for his son. He seemed to realize it was his last request.”
5
A BREEZE CAME UP AND CARRIED THE SMELL OF BLOOD, ENTRAILS, and tallow from Blue Roanie’s body to Joe, who watched the brothers at work from the aspen grove. They’d draped the hide over a log, then efficiently dismembered the horse. They didn’t speak or gesture but worked in a quiet rhythm
“I don’t know,” Marybeth lied.
Missy lowered her head slightly and smiled woman-to-woman. “Marybeth, if anyone can get Mr. Romanowski’s attention, it’s you. Do you forget what you told me a few years ago?”
Marybeth sighed and shook her head. “You never fail to disappoint. That’s why I don’t confide in you anymore, Mom. It’s like handing you bullets to use on me at a later date.”
“That’s a cruel thing to say. By the way, did Joe ever know?”
Marybeth’s voice got hard. “ Nothing happened . Besides, Joe and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
Missy chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, dear, you still have so much to learn.”
“I have to get to work,” Marybeth said, pushing away from the table. “Besides, Nate’s in love these days. He’s different. He’d never consider your proposition.”
“Honey,” Missy said, “how do you think he makes a living? Haven’t you ever wondered about that?”
Marybeth had. But like Joe, she never wanted to find out.
“Let Nate make up his own mind,” Missy said. “He’s got a mind of his own, doesn’t he?”
Marybeth refused to respond.
“Just pass along the word,” Missy said, standing up. “That’s all we ask. Tell him we’ll make it more than worthwhile for him. You know The Earl. He’s fed up with Bud, and money’s no object. As for Nate, my understanding is his lady love has a toddler she’s raising on a teacher’s salary. I’m sure she could use some support.”
Marybeth snatched both cups from the table and took them to the sink so she could keep her back to her mother.
“You owe me this one,” Missy said quietly. “Don’t forget what we’ve done for Vicki, the girl you pawned off on us last year. Vicki is getting the very best of care, thanks to us.”
Marybeth closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Vicki was a foster child who’d entered their lives and needed extensive mental and physical treatment. Marybeth had only one place to turn: Missy. Since then, a pair of grandparents had shown up and offered to take Vicki in when she completed treatment, but Missy still paid the bills. Marybeth knew at the time she was handing her mother more bullets.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Missy said. “Have Nate call me on my cell.”
Marybeth didn’t turn around. She heard her mother call good-bye to Lucy down the hallway and go outside. In a moment, the motor on the black Hummer roared to life.
WHEN THE PHONE RANG she snatched it off the cradle, expecting Joe’s voice.
Instead, a man said, “May I please speak to Mr. Joseph Pickett?”
“This is Marybeth Pickett. Who may I ask is calling?”
The man identified himself as Dr. Vincent DeGrasso of the Rimrock Extended Care Facility in Billings, Montana. Marybeth felt a chill sweep through her.
“Joseph’s father is George Pickett, correct?”
“Yes.”
DeGrasso obviously made these kinds of calls often. “I hate to call with bad news, Mrs. Pickett, but Joseph’s father has taken a serious turn. Somehow, he convinced a friend to smuggle in a half gallon of vodka last Sunday, and from what we can tell he drank it all in one sitting. The alcohol reacted with his medication and he went into toxic shock. Right now he’s in the ICU and his organs are shutting down.”
Marybeth closed her eyes. “How long?”
“We doubt he’ll last the week. Even if we can keep him alive, he’s not ever going to be lucid or functional again. A decision needs to be made.”
“My God.”
“There was a moment of consciousness this morning,” DeGrasso said. “George asked for his son. He seemed to realize it was his last request.”
5
A BREEZE CAME UP AND CARRIED THE SMELL OF BLOOD, ENTRAILS, and tallow from Blue Roanie’s body to Joe, who watched the brothers at work from the aspen grove. They’d draped the hide over a log, then efficiently dismembered the horse. They didn’t speak or gesture but worked in a quiet rhythm
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