Defensive Instructor - Debra Parmley Read online

  “It turns out that was a coincidence and he was just waiting on his girlfriend to come out of the ladies room. Two lovers reunited, that’s what it looked like.”

  “Back up and begin again, step by step, and tell me exactly what happened. What you saw and what you thought.”

  “Okay.”

  Chyna recounted the whole thing as he listened and drove, attention on the road but listening to her intently. Finally when she’d shared everything, he said, “You may be right. We haven’t collected a tail, but I’ll keep watch, and when you get to the ranch, I'll tell them what happened. They’ll want to know all the details you’ve shared with me.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  “There’s cold water and other beverages back there and cheese and crackers if you’re hungry. Make yourself comfortable, and try to relax.”

  “I feel better just being here now. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. What kind of music do you like?”

  “Oh, anything. It doesn’t matter.”

  He turned on a soft jazz station, and she took a bottle of cold water and drank half of it straight down.

  “You’ll need to drink extra water out here. Feel free to have as much as you want.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Within the cool, air-conditioned limo, leather seats, and with soft jazz playing, it began to feel like an oasis from her old life. Chyna leaned back, closing her eyes for a few moments, listening, enjoying all her senses and clearing her mind of everything. Within minutes, she’d dozed off, something she hadn’t relaxed enough to do for a very long time.

  She woke a little bit later, not knowing what time it was or how long she’d dozed, but she felt more rested than she had in ages. This limo traveling was wonderful, and she was thankful for the experience.

  Looking out the window, Chyna saw ranches and long expanses of land, with mountains off in the distance. Enjoying the scenery, she thought about nothing else, which was also a rest from the stresses of her life thus far.

  She must’ve dozed again, because next thing she knew, Sam was calling her. “Ms. Lacey? We’re about five minutes from the ranch. Almost there.”

  She watched out the window but didn’t see any ranches. Just the road and large expanses of land, with clusters of tall trees here and there, beneath a blue sky. Where was the ranch? Wouldn’t there be horses and a ranch style house with a barn? There was nothing like that here. Just plenty of road and wide-open spaces.

  Sam pulled off the road and drove the limo up beside a log guard shack with a paneled box on the outside, then stopped. Rolling down his window, he leaned out and opened the panel door and then took the phone receiver for a landline off the hook and dialed.

  “Hey. It’s Sam. I have Miss Lacey here.” He listened for a moment. ”Great. See you in a few.”

  He rolled his window up and then turned over his shoulder to look at her. “Buck will be here to pick you up in fifteen to twenty minutes. If you want to get out and stretch, you can, or you can stay in the air conditioning and take a nap. Nothing much is gonna happen until he gets here.”

  Chyna listened while wondering, where could the ranch be? There wasn’t even a road unless you counted what looked like a dirt trail heading away from the road.

  “Okay,” she said, but she frowned, puzzled. “I thought you were gonna take me all the way to the ranch? And who's Buck?”

  “I can’t take the limo back there. Too rough on her. Buck is the ranch foreman. He’s on his way. I can’t take the limo all the way to where you’re going.”

  That sounded remote. Where exactly was this place? It wasn’t on any maps. She’d seen no pictures, so she wasn’t sure what to expect, but this wasn’t like anything she’d imagined.

  After what seemed like a long wait, she saw a cloud of dust coming toward them and an old white truck in the midst of that cloud, driving fast.

  The truck slowed, as it got closer.

  With a frustrated shake of his head, Sam said, “I told him not to do that. Now I’ll have to wash the limo as soon as I make it back to town.”

  “He sure stirs up the dust,” Chyna agreed. “It’ll be all over everything.”

  And it was.

  The truck came to a complete stop not far from the limo, then a door opened and slammed again as Buck Harris made his way toward the limo. Buck was a broad shouldered man wearing a plaid Western shirt, blue jeans, a brown leather belt with a silver buckle and a worn pair of brown cowboy boots. He could have stepped off a movie set with his short dark hair, tanned skin, and a salt and pepper mustache. He looked to be in his early sixties and carried the life he’d lived on his face and in his bearing.

  Appearing agitated, Sam got out of the limo and moved toward Buck. Not sure what was going on, Chyna opened her door and got out too.

  Sam walked toward Buck, shouting and waving his arms. “Damn it, Buck! If I could drive my car down that dirt you call a road, I’d make you wash it for me!”

  Buck, unfazed by this, shouted back, “It don’t cost you much for a car wash. If you’d get yourself a real car instead of a dandified limo, you could drive down this road just like everybody else.”

  Were they going to fight? She took a step backwards. How bad would this get?

  She didn’t know either man, really. Chyna clutched her backpack to her chest, not knowing what to do and growing worried.

  This could get out of hand, and then what would she do?

  Everything in her wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to.

  Chapter 3

  There wasn’t one place to run to in any direction; only the long paved road that brought them here and the dirt road in front of her. Chyna was more isolated here than she’d been living in the shelter, hiding from her ex. Her body was on high alert, and she was hyperaware of everything around her.

  “Quit waving them arms, Sam. Can’t you see you’re scaring the lady?” Buck shook his head.

  Sam turned to look at her, and his expression changed to a concerned one. But he still threw words over his shoulder at Buck as he waved a finger in his direction. “We’re not done with this. I don’t appreciate you stirring up all this dust, and you know it.”

  “I know it, but that ain’t important right now,” Buck said. He looked directly at Chyna and moved toward her. “A little dust never hurt anybody.” He was talking to Sam but smiling and moving toward her.

  He seemed all right. He was smiling and moving in a non-aggressive manner, and he wasn’t angry. Sam was upset, not Buck.

  Buck didn’t wait for an introduction but instead launched right in. Reaching his hand out to shake, he said, “Buck Harris. And you must be Miss Lacey.”

  “I am.” She slowly reached her hand out to his. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Harris.”

  “Now, you go on and call me Buck. Everyone else does, except them salesmen that call on the phone. Them that know me, know me as Buck.”

  They shook hands.

  “Thank you, Buck. And I’m just Chyna.”

  He released her hand. “You’re welcome. Chyna Lacey. That’s a right pretty name for a pretty lady. Let’s stow your gear and head on to the ranch. Pop the trunk, Sam, and I’ll get it.”

  She was still holding her backpack in close. She moved, lifting it. “This is it,” she said. “And my carry on.”

  “Travel light, do you?” He smiled. “Can’t say as I blame ya. I used to, back in my rodeo days.”

  She noticed the silver belt buckle then. It had a bucking bronco and appeared to be some kind of rodeo buckle.

  He’d be an interesting man to get to know, she thought. I bet he’s got some good stories to tell. I’m glad he doesn’t have a bad temper. I wouldn’t want to ride with him if he did.

  Sam got the carry on and handed it off to Buck.

  “Well, come on, then,” Buck said. “Let’s get a move on.”

  “I’m ready.” She turned to Sam and held out her hand. “Thank you, Sam. That was my first ride in a limo, and it was
real nice.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it, ma’am.” Sam nodded to her. “You take care now, and enjoy your visit here.”

  “I will.”

  Buck reached for her backpack, saying, “I’ll carry that.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Of course you can. Just using my manners, not implying you couldn’t. Come on, then.”

  He turned and headed for the big white Dodge pickup truck that appeared to have seen better days. It certainly had been worked hard. Chyna followed him. He opened the truck door for her, and as she climbed up into the truck, her put his hand on her elbow to help her up. His courteous manners had taken her by surprise at first, but then she remembered all the old Westerns she’d seen. The men were always courteous to the women if they were good guys, and even the bad guys were sometimes. This was the old fashioned chivalry of the West, and here she was in Montana, smack dab in Wild West country.

  But she was also out in the middle of nowhere. Where was he taking her? To the Three Cs Ranch, she knew, but what kind of a place was it? She wished they were allowed to take pictures so someone would’ve had at least a description for her or a photo or drawing to look at. There’d been nothing for them to show her. Taking photos of the ranch was strictly forbidden. Just like the women’s shelter, no one could take pictures, no unauthorized people were allowed entry, and no one could see the street numbers or address because it wasn’t on the mailbox. A few people knew the location of the shelter, but they worked there and had security clearance, or like the police officers, they had a reason to be there. Chyna hoped she’d be safe here from Phineas and his crazy family. She was looking forward to peace and quiet.

  Buck put her carry on in the back and then climbed in and started the truck. “Sorry about the open windows and the dust,” he sad. “You got here on a day when I’m working on equipment and the Land Rover is broke down. Only thing running good at the moment is this here truck.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” she said.

  “Now, we’d best not talk anymore till we get there, unless you want to tie a bandana on.” He pointed to his mouth. “Otherwise, we’ll be eating dust.”

  “I’m good with quiet,” Chyna said. “Seat belts?” she asked as she was searching for hers.

  “Nope. Doesn’t have any. Don’t need 'em out here. Isn’t anyone to run in to you unless you take her into town.”

  He turned the truck around and hit the gas. Next thing she knew, they were bumping along over the uneven road as dust flew up all around them. Buck was wasting no time getting back to the ranch, and they were going to arrive in a dust cloud just like the one he’d driven in to pick her up.

  The more they bumped along, the more she was jostled. She gripped the door with one hand and placed her other on the seat.

  This place would be really hard to get to, Chyna thought. It’s certainly not easy. There’s not a sign or a mailbox or any indication anything is back here other than a dirt road. It will be hard for anyone to find me here. Good. Finn is a good hunter and tracker, but even he would have trouble finding me here.

  Then she saw the sign and they turned to drive under it. The Three Cs Ranch had the typical Wild West type wooden sign at the entrance, with three-branded Cs across the top.

  The house beyond it looked more like a lodge than a house. She’d pictured a one-story ranch style building. The front of the building was huge, with several gables, one big one in the front with center steps leading up to it. Made of logs, the building looked as new as it was.

  Here the skies were wide open, with open expanses of the fields and yards around the ranches, making everything feel open and free. No one could sneak up on anyone here; they’d see anyone coming from a long ways off.

  Buck got out of the truck, came around and opened her door, and then helped her down.

  Chyna got out of the truck, took her backpack, and said, “Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome, Chyna.” He glanced at the front door of the center. “I could stay and introduce you.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll just go on in.” He obviously had a lot of work to do, and she was keeping him from it the longer it took him. He’d gotten her through the bumpy part. Literally. Now she was finally here. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” With a tip of his hat, he went back to his truck to drive back to work.

  Three Cs Ranch. She looked all around her. This is perfect. Here I’ll be safe.

  She headed for the front stairs, walked up the front steps, and then knocked on the door. A dark-skinned, dark-haired woman answered. Chyna guessed her to be Native American from her features and long, dark hair.

  “Hello. You must be Chyna. I’m Leah White Crane,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you. Come on in.”

  “Hello,” Chyna said. “Yes, I’m Chyna Lacey.” It felt good using her old name. Like she’d come back to herself. She stepped inside a massive great room with log walls, large wooden beams, and antler chandeliers.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Chyna.” Leah smiled. “We’ve been expecting you. Did you have any trouble on the way here?”

  “No, everything went smooth. I was nervous and thought I might have a problem with a man following me at the bus terminal, but it turned out to be nothing. I did everything I was told to do, and everything is okay now, I think.”

  “Sam would still be driving you around if you’d been followed. You’re safe here now. We can talk about the problem you thought you had at the terminal, and I do want us to do that, but let’s get you settled first. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  She turned and walked across the right side of the great room to a desk, where a woman with soft gray hair was sitting with headphones on, typing and talking to someone over the headphones. The woman stopped talking and turned toward them, smiling. The first thing Chyna noticed was her beautiful smile. The second thing was, the woman was blind.

  “Chyna, this is Cecelia. She’s our secretary and the fastest typist I’ve ever seen.”

  “Oh, now Leah, I’m no faster than any other executive secretary in one of the big cities. It’s so nice to meet you, Chyna.” Cecelia reached out her hand toward Chyna.

  Chyna stretched her hand down and then shook. “Nice to meet you too, Cecelia.”

  “If you need anything, you can either stop by my desk or call the private line.” Cecelia picked up a card with numbers written on it as if her hand knew just where to go, having done it so many times. “You’ll have a phone in your room you can use to call out, and please memorize this number so you’ll have an emergency number to call if you leave the property.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere.”

  “Humor me, dear.” The woman reached for something in a drawer and fumbled a bit. “You just never know where you might find yourself, and I’ll feel better if you know this number. I like to know where all our ladies are so I don’t get worried. I get nervous if I think any of our ladies will be out of touch. This way, you won’t be.” She paused and then pulled out a key. “There it is.” She beamed once again and held the key out to Chyna. “All yours. You’re in the last room on the right, since you’d expressed a desire for quiet. It’s the quietest room.”

  “Thank you,” Chyna said.

  “Oh, you’re quite welcome, dear,” Cecelia said, then another call came over the headset and she took the call, giving them a little wave as she went back to work.

  Leah gestured and said, “I’ll show you to your room, and you can freshen up. When you’re ready, I’ll take you on a tour of the grounds and to meet the rest of the staff.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll take a quick shower, and then I’d love to see the grounds,” Chyna said. Freshening up sounded good. The bus trip had been the longest trip of her life, and she was glad there’d be no more buses. She was sticky from all the sweat and dirt, and she was tired. She needed a shower and total change of clothes.


  Her room had a great big queen-sized bed in the middle with a large wooden headboard and footboard made of logs and an overstuffed blue and white quilt on top with lots of blue and white pillows. Like the rest of the ranch, the walls were of logs. On one wall was a stone fireplace, which was not in use, it being August. A large window looked out over a great view of the ranch and the mountains beyond.

  “It’s beautiful,” Chyna said.

  “I agree. It is. I never get tired of the views here, especially sunrise and sunset.” Leah put her hand on the doorknob. “Take your time. When you’re ready, come back to the great room, and I’ll show you around and introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

  “Thank you,” Chyna said.

  “You’re welcome.” Leah smiled, then stepped out and closed the door behind her.

  Chyna dropped her backpack on the bed and then, flinging her arms wide, fell back onto the bed.

  I’m here. Safe. Free. I made it.

  Everything would change now. This was the first day of the rest of her life.

  Twenty minutes later, showered and wearing sweatpants and a clean T-shirt, she met Leah back in the great room

  “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  Chyna nodded. “Yes.” She smiled. “Both.”

  “Then I’ll take you to meet our cook, Emma, first. She’s married to George Ives, our maintenance man,” Leah said. “They both came out of early retirement to work here. They used to be at one of the big ski lodges, but he had heart surgery, and after that both decided they wanted a quieter, less hectic lifestyle.”

  The kitchen had a large stone fireplace on one wall and a restaurant-sized stove on the other, with a matching double-sided refrigerator on the third wall and a kitchen island, bar with stools combo.

  The brown-haired women moving about the kitchen turned toward them. “Well, hello,” she said, smiling.

  “Hello, Emma. I’d like you to meet Chyna Lacey.”

  Emma wiped her hands on her blue and white-checkered apron and held out her hand. “Hello, Chyna.” The older woman stuck out her hand, and Chyna shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”