Lean, Mean and Lonesome

“Do they know where you are?”

“No.” He frowned at Dan. “You gonna tell ’em?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. Won’t they be looking for you?”

Rafe laughed, but he didn’t sound amused. “Not hardly.” Rafe looked past Dan and saw her watching them. He looked away. Dan turned around and saw her.

“Quit being so nosy and go back into the house,” he yelled.

Without a word Mandy went back inside. She went looking for her mom and found her in the front yard, working in her flower garden as usual.

“Mom, there’s a guy here wanting a job.”

Her mother sat back on her heels and looked quizzically at Mandy from beneath her wide-brimmed straw hat. “Why are you telling me, honey? Your dad handles that.”

“He’s just a kid.”

Her mother grinned. “Really? How old is he?”

“Dan’s age. They used to be in the same class until Rafe moved away or something.”

“Rafe?”

“That’s what he goes by.”

Her mom got up, dusted her knees, removed her cotton gardening gloves, straightened her hat and walked around the house. She saw the boys sitting on the back steps and joined them.

Mandy followed her, daring Dan to say anything about her presence.

“Hello. I’m Dan’s mother, Amelia Crenshaw,” she said, holding out her hand to Rafe. Mandy noticed that her mother acted as though there was nothing unusual about his appearance.

He looked at her hand uncertainly, then reluctantly took it, shook it quickly and released it. He bobbed his head without meeting her gaze. “Hi. I’m Rafe McClain.”

“Amanda tells me that you’re looking for work. Is that right?”

Dan glared at Mandy. She gave him a sunny smile in return.

Rafe cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“After school, of course ”

“Yes’m.”

She smiled. “Why don’t you come inside and have something to drink? Dan’s father should be coming in for dinner in an hour or so. You can join us and discuss the matter with him.”

Mandy sensed Rafe’s embarrassment. He kept looking at everything but her mom. “That’s all right,” he mumbled. “I can come back later.”

“Nonsense,” her mother said gently, smiling at him. “You have to eat like the rest of us. Dan can show you around the place after you get something to drink.” She walked up the steps and across the porch as though there was no doubt in her mind the boys would follow her into the house.

“Snitch,” Dan muttered, walking past Mandy and pulling her hair.

“What’s so secret about wanting a job?” she asked him, swatting at his hand.

Rafe glanced at her and smiled. “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong.” She smiled back, liking the boy with the black, sad eyes.

Later, over the noon meal, her dad asked Rafe a bunch of questions about what he was trained to do, but nothing about why he needed a job and a place to stay. Mandy had a hunch Dan had already filled him in on that part when she wasn’t around.

And so it was that Rafe McClain made his home on the ranch on that day in late August. There was a small cabin—really only a large room with a bathroom added off the side—that was just over a rise from the house and barns. A small creek ran nearby and the place was shaded with large—and obviously old—live oak trees.

Her dad had suggested that Rafe move in there.

Nobody talked about the fact that he didn’t have any belongings. He just showed up at mealtimes wearing some of Dan’s old shirts and jeans. Her dad insisted on paying him in addition to his room and board—and gradually Rafe acquired a pair of shoes that weren’t falling apart and had his hair cut. He worked from dawn until time for school, then from after school to dark or later.

Sometime during the following four years, Mandy developed a crush on Rafe. She could still remember the pangs of adolescent angst where he was concerned. He, on the other hand, hadn’t known she existed as anything but Dan’s pesky little sister.

Too bad she hadn’t left things that way. Life would have been so much better for both of them if she had.

The sounds of voices and the routine of activity around a working ranch roused Rafe the next morning. He opened his eyes and lay there, remembering why he was back in Texas. He sat up and groaned, feeling the stiffness in all his joints.

He forced himself out of bed and stalked over to the dresser in search of some briefs. When he pulled the drawers open, he let out a silent whistle. These were not discount store items. He picked up a pair of silk boxer shorts and smiled. The kid certainly believed in his comfort. He’d have to give Dan a rough time the next time he saw him.

If he saw him.

Damn. He hated the not knowing. He opened the closet door and stepped inside a spacious walk-in area. Racks of suits, dress shirts and shiny shoes were on one side. Jeans, Western-cut shirts and boots were on the other.

Interesting. It looked to Rafe like a town and country wardrobe to fit any occasion.

He tried to remember the last time he’d talked to Dan, or heard from him before this letter that had finally caught up with him. He’d gotten a short letter a couple of years ago mentioning an engagement and that he expected Rafe to show up and be his best man.

Before Rafe had found the time to respond—and he’d put it off, admittedly, because he didn’t know how to remind his old friend that he wouldn’t be welcome around the Crenshaw family—Dan had written an equally terse letter saying the engagement was off.

What Dan hadn’t told him now spoke volumes. What did he do that called for suits, dress shirts and a wide assortment of expensive ties?

Rafe pulled one of the work shirts off a hanger and put it on. The fit was fine. He didn’t have as much luck with the jeans. It seemed as though Dan had put on a little weight around the middle since high school. Rafe rooted around until he found an old pair of jeans that would fit him.

They were worn white at the knees and the seat of the pants. Hell, for all he knew they may well be Jeans from high school.

He grabbed a pair of socks before putting on his own boots. Then he went in search of some coffee with which to start his day.

There was no sign of Mandy but she’d left evidence of her passing. A pan of biscuits sat next to a plate filled with crisply fried bacon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. His stomach growled at the thought. He poured himself a cup of coffee and stuck a piece of bacon between two halves of a biscuit. By the time he’d finished his coffee, he’d made a large dent in the biscuit and bacon supply.

He peered outside, but there was no sign of Mandy. One of the first things he needed to do was to get his clothes out of the brush where he’d hidden them. After that, he’d talk to someone about getting his car back to the rental place. He walked to the back door and eased it open. In addition, he wanted to hunt up the foreman and get his view on what might have taken place here the night Dan disappeared.

He stepped off the end of the porch and started toward the gate. He was almost there when a slight noise at his back caused him to glance around, but he was too late. He felt a blinding pain directly behind his ear.

His last memory was a vision of the limestone walk rapidly coming up to meet him.

Three