They had dinner at T.G.I. Fridays, then watched a Harry Potter movie on pay-per-view and called it a night. Jamie knew that sleep was once again going to be difficult for her. She tried to put aside the events of the day so that she could mentally and emotionally prepare herself for tomorrow’s flight.
Jamie hadn’t flown in an airplane since those childhood trips that ended when her parents died in a plane crash. Her stomach was knotted with apprehension, and she was afraid to close her eyes lest she dream of planes plunging from the sky.
Finally she gave up on sleep. If it weren’t for Lenora in the other bed, she would have watched television or turned on the lamp and read. Ralph sensed her wakefulness and came to comfort her. She curled her body around his, and the next thing she knew, the alarm was going off. An hour later, she and Ralph were in Lenora’s car on their way to the airport.
The Hartmann airplane was a great deal larger than her father’s had been and had jet engines instead of propellers. The words The Messenger were painted in script on the side. Beneath the words was a golden cross.
The uniformed pilot and copilot introduced themselves. They were father and son-Russ was the father and Rusty the son. They were based in Virginia and flew regularly for Miss Hartmann and her brother, Russ explained.
Suddenly the moment of departure was at hand.
“You’ll be fine,” Lenora said. “Amanda and Toby are not your run-of-the-mill folks, but you will be well cared for.”
Jamie hugged Lenora and thanked her for everything. They promised to stay in touch, and yes, Jamie would let her know if she needed anything.
Ralph was hesitant about climbing up the steep steps, so the young copilot carried him. Jamie turned and waved at Lenora before entering the spacious cabin. No, this wasn’t like her father’s little airplane at all, she thought as she took in the easy chairs and individual television monitors. In the back were a conference table and chairs.
As soon as Jamie took her seat, Ralph jumped onto her lap. Jamie let him stay there, putting her arms around him and burying her face against his neck while the plane raced down the runway and lifted heavenward.
She avoided looking out the window during the short flight, but when she felt the plane bank and begin its descent, she moved to a window seat and looked down on the emptiest landscape she had ever seen. Not a house, not a road, not a hill, only an occasional clump of stunted mesquite along a creek bed. But already there were the beginnings of one of those spectacular sunsets Toby Travis had promised.
Then miraculously there was a landing field, and beyond it were a water tower, a silo, and rooftops emerging from an oasis of trees and cultivated fields. As they descended farther she spotted a large greenhouse and a trailer park.
The plane made a looping turn over the large L-shaped stone ranch house with a turreted tower. Behind the house were two swimming pools, one a large free-form pool with a small island in the center and the other a rectangular pool with swimming lanes. Beyond the pools were tennis courts. The place looked more like a resort than a home.
Obviously, the people to whom she was now contractually bound were wealthy beyond anything she could even begin to imagine, which represented enormous good luck for the baby she would carry for them. The child would have every advantage that money could buy. He or she would never be made fun of for wearing secondhand clothes.
Which hadn’t been the worst thing in the world, she decided.
The plane descended very quickly and soon the wheels were touching the ground. When it had rolled to a stop, Rusty emerged from the cockpit. “Welcome to Hartmann Ranch, home to the only bowling alley in Marshall County,” he said with a grin. “If the ranch were a town, it would be the second largest in the county, which may not be saying too much since there are only two so-called towns in the whole damned county, and one of them is just a wide spot in the road.”
Chapter Seven
WAKEFULNESS INTRUDED on the woman’s sleeping brain like water slowly seeping into a hard, dry sponge. She struggled against it for a time, then opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Always the same place. The room that wasn’t square and wasn’t round and had lots of skinny windows with diamond-shaped panes.
Her neck hurt. It always did when she nodded off in her wheelchair.
And she was hungry. Surely it was time for the witch to bring up her tray. She didn’t like her anymore, but at least she spoke English. The witch used to work for her, but now somehow she was the boss. Which was irritating. Very irritating.
The woman was trying to decide what time of day it was and whether her next meal would be breakfast, lunch, or dinner when she heard the roar of a plane.
Frantically she spun her wheelchair around. Maybe someone was coming to see her. Her daughter, maybe. Or even her son.
She saw the plane roaring by and knew it would make a big curve before coming in for a landing. She waited until it completed the curve and rolled her wheelchair to the correct window in plenty of time to watch it touch down and roll to a stop.
She used to fly in airplanes all the time. Handsome men in limousines would be waiting for her. Sometimes she sat up front with them. Sometimes she invited them inside.
She watched while a figure climbed down the airplane’s steep stairs. The person was too far away for her to see who it was. And it was getting dark.
She continued watching as headlights approached the house, then she leaned forward hoping to see who was in the vehicle, but it disappeared under the portico.
“Shit!” she called out angrily.
A young Mexican man in a golf cart met the plane.
Jamie held Ralph on the short ride to the ranch house. The setting sun reflected in its many windows, making it look as though there were a raging fire within the stone structure and its octagon-shaped tower.
Two women were waiting for her by the imposing front door of roughhewn wood with heavy iron hinges. One woman was tall and somewhat formidable-looking with very erect posture and her coal-black hair pulled back into a bun. She was wearing a tailored navy suit with sturdy navy pumps on her feet. The other woman was younger with a stocky build, very short hair, and dressed in khaki pants and shirt, with a holster and flashlight hanging from her wide leather belt.
“Good evening, Miss Long,” the older woman said, extending her hand. “I am Ann Montgomery, head housekeeper, and this is Chief Katy Kelly, who is in charge of ranch security.”
Jamie shook hands with both women. “Everyone calls me Kelly,” the younger woman said.
“And this is Ralph,” Jamie said, looking down at her dog, who was looking up at the two women expectantly, with his crooked tail wagging. After living most of his life in a cage, Ralph was turning out to be a very friendly dog.
Kelly dropped down on one knee and scratched Ralph’s head. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you take a walk with me while Montgomery shows your mommy around?” Ralph dutifully wagged his tail again, and Jamie handed the leash to Kelly. Then she followed Miss Montgomery through the front door into the delightfully cool interior of what she realized was a solid stone structure. Like a castle.
An arched entryway opened onto a pillared hall with a beamed ceiling. Twin curving staircases led to a landing with three enormous windows comprised of small round panes of brilliant gemlike colors. From the landing the staircase branched again and continued to a second-floor gallery.
“I feel like I’m on a movie set,” Jamie said.
“Yes, it is rather impressive, isn’t it?” Miss Montgomery said. “The original ranch house was built by Amanda Hartmann’s grandfather, who was a cattle rancher and founder of Palo Duro Oil and Gas Company,” she explained, speaking with authority and a touch of reverence in her voice. She was older than Jamie had at first thought. Well into her sixties. Or older. Her erect bearing belied her age. Her blue-black hair was obviously dyed. Her dark red lipstick had bled into the creases that radiated outward from her mouth.