Free Fire by C.J. Box Page B

truck. Bud was perched high on the front bumper, leaning in over the engine. Eduardo stood on the dirt floor next to the truck handing up tools as Bud called out for them. They’d not fired up the propane heater in the corner of the building, so it was colder inside than it was outside. Bud had a policy about not turning on the heaters before November, as if to defy the coming of winter until its proper time on the calendar. Joe noticed he wouldn’t even use the heater in the truck until then.
    “I’ll take over if you don’t mind,” Joe said to Eduardo.
    “No problema ,” Eduardo said, stepping away from the toolboxand blowing on his hands. “I need to eat some hot lunch.”
    “Seven-eighths socket,” Bud called down.
    Joe snapped the attachment on the wrench and handed it up.
    “Goddamn mice get in the engine and chew up the belts,” Bud grumbled. “I gotta put new belts on every year.”
    Although Bud hired contractors in semitrucks to haul cattle to buyers, he liked to move his brood stock to lower pasture himself behind the one-ton. His plans were always delayed untilhe got the truck running again.
    “Bud, I got offered my old job back,” Joe said.
    There was a slight hesitation in Bud’s hand as he reached down for the socket wrench.
    “I took it,” Joe said.
    Bud cranked on a bolt. “I figured you probably would.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be,” Bud said. “You need to do what you’re good at.”
    “Thank you.”
    Bud worked for a while without saying anything and called for the fresh belt. Joe unwrapped it from the packaging and handed it up.
    “You’ve always got a job here if you want it,” Bud said. “You’re a good hand.”
    It was the ultimate compliment on a ranch, Joe knew, and it made him feel guilty for leaving. Worse, he had to ask, “I was hoping we could come to an arrangement for Marybeth and the kids to stay here for a while longer. At least until we can get a house in town.”
    Bud snorted. “Why do you even ask me that?”
    Joe didn’t know what Bud meant and froze up.
    Bud said, “Of course they can stay. I’ll work up some kind of rent deal and let you know. I don’t want you even thinking about moving for a while. I like having you around here and I’d miss the hell out of those girls of yours.”
    “Thank you, Bud,” Joe said, genuinely grateful.
    “I’ll give Eduardo a raise,” Bud said, as much to himself as to Joe. “Make him the foreman and see how he works out. I think he can do it, as long as the immigration people don’t come sniffingaround.”
    “Sorry to spring this on you now,” Joe said.
    “There’s never a good time on a ranch,” Bud said. “But with winter coming, this is as good a time as any, I guess.”
    Bud fit the belt on and tightened the bolts. “They giving you a vehicle?”
    Joe and Marybeth had only the family van. “I’ve got to pick one up in town,” Joe said.
    “You need a ride to go get it?”
    “Sure,” Joe said, feeling bad about letting this good man down.
    “I’ll finish up here and give you a ride,” Bud said.
    As they walked to the main house, Bud turned with his grease-stained finger to his lips and said, “Shhhh. Missy is taking a little nap. That art meeting went until all hours last night.”
    Joe felt a tingle in his heart.
    “She didn’t get back until three this morning,” Bud said in all innocence. “They must have had a lot to discuss.”
    Joe bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything. He waited on the porch while Bud went inside for his keys.
    Five minutes later, Bud came out, said, “Missy wants to talk to you for a minute.”
    “To me?” Joe asked. Missy rarely wanted to talk to him, which was a good thing.
    “I’ll pull the truck around,” Bud said, walking away across the gravel.
    Joe sighed and went inside, looking first in the living room for her. Missy wasn’t in her chair, or in the kitchen with Maria. He found her in her bed.
    The bedroom was large and recently