Randall Renegade. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.
ground his teeth as images flew before his eyes. He’d fallen for her hard. They’d both been at the University of Wyoming in Laramie. It had been his senior year, her sophomore. He’d wanted her badly. She’d refused to sleep with him unless they were at least engaged.
Jim hadn’t been ready to settle down. He wanted to sow his wild oats and make a name for himself first. It wasn’t easy being a Randall in the state of Wyoming. His family was well-known in the ranching and rodeo communities. So he’d said no to getting engaged so young. In actual fact, he’d said, “Hell, no!”
After two weeks without Patience, he’d realized he’d made a mistake. He missed her terribly. When he’d gone back home for a weekend, he went into town to see his friends and catch up on the news. The first thing his friends told him was that Patience was raising a baby. It wasn’t hers, really, but she was going to raise it.
Jim had torn out of the saloon and found a pay phone. He called Patience. Her voice was cool when she’d told him that yes, she was raising a baby.
“Who’s the real mother and father?” he’d demanded.
“None of your business,” she’d said.
“Fine!” and he’d hung up the phone.
He hadn’t seen or heard from her since. It had been three years, but she still owned his heart whether she knew it or not.
And now she had called him. She’d cried on the phone, asked him to call back. What was going on?
He started his truck and drove fast to Rawhide. He went to the same pay phone he’d used to call her before. He didn’t need to look at the paper. He still knew her number by heart. Not that he’d ever tell her that.
“Hello?” a wavery voice answered.
“Patience?” he asked. After all, Red had said she was crying.
“No, I’ll get her.”
He grew even more tense as he waited.
“Jim?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t intend to make this call easy for her. He’d suffered a lot because she’d wanted nothing to do with him unless they were engaged.
“I need help. I didn’t know anyone else to call.”
“What kind of help?”
“My little boy has been kidnapped.”
“And you haven’t called the law?”
“I called them.”
“Then why are you asking me for help?”
“They won’t do anything.”
Jim was momentarily speechless. “Why not?” he finally asked.
“Because the man who kidnapped him is his father!” The tears were there in her voice.
“Sounds like you’d better listen to the law, Patience.”
“You don’t understand! He’s crazy!”
“No, I don’t understand. And I don’t know why you’re coming to me for help. You threw me out of your life years ago!”
“I threw you out of my life?” she screamed back at him.
“That’s right. Find someone else to fight your battles.”
He hung up the phone.
After an hour of sitting at a back table in the saloon having a beer with his friends, he asked, “What do you hear about Patience now?”
“Nothin’,” his friend Roy said. Roy worked at the feed store and knew almost all the gossip around.
“Nothing? Does she still have that kid?”
“Last I saw her she did.”
“Who’s she seeing now?”
Roy shrugged. “Maybe someone from Buffalo.”
“I see. Well, good. Glad she’s happy.”
Another half an hour and he made an excuse and headed for his truck. Of course Patience was seeing someone. She was a beautiful woman. So let her ask her new boyfriend for help.
AFTER A RESTLESS night, Jim rose and grabbed the phone in the bachelor pad, which was what the bunkhouse built for him and his cousins was called. It was early, but he figured Patience would be awake.
The same wavery voice answered.
“May I speak to Patience?”
“No. She’s gone.”
“Is this Mrs. Anderson?” Patience’s mother hadn’t sounded this old three years ago.
“Yes.”
“This is Jim Randall. When will Patience be back?”
“I don’t know. She went to find Tommy.”
“Is that her son? The one she said was taken?”
“Yes,” the woman said with a sob. “Patience has gone after Tommy and I’m so afraid the boy’s father will hurt them.”
“Mrs. Anderson, I’m coming over to see you. I’ll be there in about half an hour.” He hung up before the woman could say yes or no.
Jim knocked on his little brother’s door in the bachelor pad, then stuck his head in. “Drew, tell Dad I had some personal business to take care of. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
“What time is it?” Drew asked, rubbing his eyes. He’d finished university last year and still wasn’t happy with the early mornings.
“Almost six. Tell Dad, okay?”
Drew closed his eyes and nodded at the same time. Jim didn’t hold out much hope that he’d remember.
When Jim reached the small brick home on one of the few back streets of Rawhide, he parked his truck and hurried to the front door. Knocking, he called, “Mrs. Anderson? It’s Jim Randall. Can you let me in?”
The door opened slowly. A woman he remembered as vibrant appeared pale and worn as she peered at him through the screen. Slowly she pushed it open and gestured for him to enter.
“Mrs. Anderson, I need to know what has happened to Patience. You said she’s gone after her little boy? Won’t that be dangerous?”
“Yes. I told her not to go. But she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Where did she go?”
“Up in the mountains. The boy’s father has a camp up there. He…he just came to our house and grabbed the boy. And he cleaned out our pantry and left some worthless coins in place of the groceries.”
Jim frowned. “What do you mean, worthless coins?”
The woman hurried to a pine dresser. She picked up something and returned to Jim.
“These,” she said as she poured five small tin disks into his hand.
“Did you show them to the sheriff?” he asked.
“What’s the point? He already said he wouldn’t help us.”
“Why?”
“Because we never did anything legally about Tommy. Patience never formally adopted him. Legally, Joseph, his father, has custody.”
“Why do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Because he’s crazy. He wants Tommy to be a soldier!”
“And you told the sheriff this?”
“He told us he couldn’t do anything.”
Jim was as frustrated as Patience’s mother sounded.