Montana Midwife. Cassie Miles
the time.” She dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny player attached to ear buds. “Mostly country and western. Is that unstressful?”
“Better than heavy metal,” Tab said. “When you feel yourself getting tight inside, just plug in your music, close your eyes and tune out all the other distractions.”
From the plastic container, she unpacked a simple picnic of crackers, cheese, jerky, an apple and a six-pack of bottled water. Misty pounced on the jerky. “You’re a mind reader, Tab. I was starving.”
Working with pregnant women taught her that she couldn’t go wrong with healthy snacks. “Dig in before the guys figure out that there’s food over here.”
Aiden’s effort to get the Jeep unstuck had deteriorated to walking about the vehicle, scratching his head and scowling. Clinton was doing much the same. Very likely, they’d come to the conclusion that when the sheriff got here, they could hook up a winch.
Sitting back on her heels, Tab watched as Misty devoured a chunk of jerky, took a huge swig from the water bottle and gave a loud burp followed by a giggle. “Sorry,” Misty said. “That was gross.”
“A little bit.”
“My body keeps doing this weird stuff. I have to pee all the time.”
“Can you feel the baby kicking?”
“I can.” A happy smile brightened her face. “That part is really cool.”
Tab was reminded of the seven-year-old she used to babysit. That summer had been rough on the girl. Not only had she lost her father, but her mother had been so devastated that she could barely drag herself out of bed. And Aiden had been preoccupied with the day-to-day operations at the ranch. Throughout, Misty maintained a relentlessly cheerful attitude to hide her pain and vulnerability.
“I wish I could stay here and wait with you,” Tab said, “but I need to leave soon.”
Misty nodded as she screwed the top back onto the water bottle. When she looked up, her eyes were troubled. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Am I going to jail?”
Tab couldn’t promise a good outcome. Even if Misty was completely innocent, there were no guarantees. “I don’t know.”
AN HOUR LATER, THE SUN dipped low in the western sky. None of the law enforcement people had yet arrived on the scene, but Tab couldn’t wait any longer. Nightfall came early in November, and she didn’t want to ride home in the dark. It wasn’t far to her grandma’s house, probably only seven or eight miles, but there wasn’t a clearly marked trail between here and there, and she didn’t want to take a chance on getting lost.
After she gave Misty a hug, Tab made her way through the sage and dried prairie grass to where Shua was nibbling at a shrub. Aiden strode toward her. “Leaving so soon?”
“Not that it hasn’t been fun,” she said. “The sheriff can contact me later for a statement.”
“I’m glad you’re heading out while there’s still enough light to see where you’re going. You haven’t lived around here for a couple of years. Things change.”
As far as she could see, the change was minimal. The local landmarks—rolling hills, ridges and the river—were much the same as when she was a kid. On the opposite side of the Little Big Horn, she saw the sandstone cliff and the familiar arch above Half-Moon Cave. The land was eternal; the people were different.
She glanced over her shoulder at Misty’s little nest on the striped wool blanket. Though Clinton had his arm around her, Misty’s shoulders slumped, and her head drooped. “I’m worried about her,” Tab said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, call me.”
“Sure.”
His hand rested on Shua’s neck, and he stroked along the line of the horse’s mane. The gesture was completely natural, like the absentminded way you might pet a cat that jumped on your lap. This casual attitude around livestock said a lot about Aiden.
Unlike most of the men she’d dated in Billings and Missoula, he’d grown up on a ranch and was 100 percent cowboy. Right now, he was wearing a baseball cap instead of a Stetson, but he still looked the part with his long, lean body, his scuffed boots and his well-worn jeans. His hands were calloused. His wrists were strong. And his gray eyes had that cool awareness that came from hours of staring across the wide prairies, watching over several hundred head of cattle.
Had he changed? She wasn’t sure.
Though she wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was still a little bit blinded by her crush on him. When she looked at him, her pulse rate quickened. She had to swallow hard before she trusted herself to speak without stammering.
“I’m serious about having Misty call me,” she said. “She needs a friend.”
“You got that right. The girls she used to pal around with in high school are off at college, joining sororities and having all kinds of fun.” A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I wanted that for her. Misty’s a smart kid.”
“You make it sound like her life is over.”
“She wanted to be a lawyer, talked about it all the time. She was planning to take on injustice and set the world straight. She’d sent off her application to a couple of universities, and she’d gotten accepted.”
“A lawyer, huh? That’s terrific.”
“Now, she’s going to be stuck on the ranch.”
Tab didn’t like his attitude and all that it implied. “She doesn’t have to give up her dreams. Having a baby isn’t the end of the world for Misty.”
His gaze met hers, and she braced herself for a bullheaded argument about how womenfolk are supposed to stay home and tend the young. Instead, Aiden said, “You’re right.”
“You’re damn right that I’m right.” She’d gotten herself all puffed up for no reason. “Right?”
“I’m not fighting you, Tab.”
“Well, good.”
“Misty needs to hear that she’s still got opportunities. She can still go to college and to law school.” His expression warmed. “It’d be good for her to spend time with you.”
Being close to Misty meant also being near him, which might be the very definition of a win-win situation. She cleared her throat and reached for her saddle. “I should mount up.”
“Not yet.”
When he lightly touched her shoulder, she spun around to face him. He was standing so close that she could see the prisms and facets in his eyes. “What is it, Aiden?”
“If you’ll wait a bit before you get up on your horse, I’d like to walk with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
Taking the reins, she stepped in front of Shua and made a clicking noise. The horse ambled along behind her as she and Aiden strolled along a path that followed the winding course of the river.
“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I’d like to escort you all the way back to your grandma’s place and make sure you get home safely.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Can you? If Misty’s story is true, the shooter might still be in the area.”
She looked up at him. “That hadn’t occurred to me.”
“It’s unlikely he’s still around, but it’s something to keep in mind. At that meeting in Crow Agency, nobody actually said we might be facing a serial killer. But it’s possible.”
She remembered the serious tone of the meeting and the warning to be on the lookout.