Randall Renegade. Judy Christenberry

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      “Wait, boy,” Red said. “You got a phone message. Sounded real important.” Red handed him a piece of paper.

      Jim scanned the message, and his heart jerked. He carefully folded it and said, “Thanks, Red.”

      Red wasn’t finished. “The girl on the phone was crying.”

      Damn! Why couldn’t the old man mind his own business? Jim felt badly immediately. Red was like a grandfather to him. He loved him. But he didn’t want anyone asking any questions about the call.

      His father looked at him, but didn’t say anything. Jim knew that his father would lend help if it was needed, and he gave him a rocky smile as he hurried out of the kitchen.

      He climbed into his truck and headed toward the county road that led into Rawhide, one of the small towns splattered across Wyoming. He’d been born there, knew most everyone who lived there, and he played there on Friday nights.

      He stopped halfway to town, pulling over to the side of the road. He turned on the overhead light as he drew the piece of paper out of his pocket. Patience Anderson.

      He 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 СКАЧАТЬ