Джеймс Паттерсон - Texas Outlaw

They arrive at Tom’s Land Cruiser, which is a little more scratched up than it used to be, thanks to Ariana stealing it and taking it out into the open space.

After they hug good-bye and Tom drives away, Ariana climbs aboard her motorcycle. She rumbles into town and heads straight to what has been quickly renamed the Rio Lobo Medical Center. As she enters, one of the nurses at the front desk intercepts her and says, “Miss Dawes checked out this morning. She wanted me to give you this.”

She hands Ariana a handwritten note.

Dear Ariana,

I can’t thank you enough for everything.

You have a friend for life.

Willow

Ariana smiles. She unfolds the page farther and sees there’s a postscript.

P.S. He’s all yours.

Ariana laughs.

When she pushes through the door into his hospital room, she finds Rory sitting up in bed, reading a John Grisham book. He looks pale, a little on the thin side, but still handsome as hell.

“How’re you holding up?” Ariana asks.

“The doctors say they’re not ready to release me,” Rory says, “but I’ll tell you what: I’m ready to get the hell out of here and get back to work.”

She can tell it’s taking all of his willpower not to yank out the IV and strap on his gun belt. One of the reasons he hasn’t is because Ariana keeps assuring him that everything is under control. In a few days there will be a big memorial for Kyle Hendricks in Waco, and she knows Rory won’t miss that no matter what the doctors say.

She sits down next to him and fills him in on the latest in the investigation.

When the EMTs found him, he had no heartbeat. They had to zap him with a defibrillator. And even after that, his chances were touch and go for a while as they waited to see if the decontamination treatment would take effect.

His family drove in and waited until he was awake and stable before heading back to Waco. His former lieutenant, Ted Creasy, kept him company for a while. Willow, who recovered quicker, having ingested a smaller amount of the poison, hardly left his side.

The first time he saw Ariana after waking up, he said to her in a weak voice, “You saved my life. Again.”

“Well,” she said, trying to make a joke out of it. “You’d wiped the slate clean, so I wanted you to owe me again.”

“I owe you double,” he said. “For me. And for Willow.”

Chapter 115

ON MY FIRST day out of the hospital, Ariana and I go down to the river to have lunch under the big oak tree. We watch as workers take down the McCORMACK COMMUNITY PARK sign and begin installing a new sign that says SUSAN SNYDER MEMORIAL PARK. When I first got to town, there were three guys—Alex Hartley, Skip Barnes, and the chief himself—all claiming they’d had affairs with Susan. It turned out all of them were lying. I have no idea if she was promiscuous or not—and I don’t care—but what I do know is that she really cared for this community.

She died to bring out the truth. The least they can do is name the park after her. I hope they name something after Ariana. She deserves it, too.

I’m not sure why, but along with our lunches, Ariana also brought a cardboard box with her. It’s about eighteen inches by two feet, and I have no idea what’s inside.

I still feel a little weak, but I’m getting better every day.

Most of the various agencies—not to mention the journalists—have cleared out, and Rio Lobo seems to be getting back to some semblance of normalcy. Several Rangers from the El Paso office remain, and they’ve pretty much taken over the investigation. When Kyle first sent me to Rio Lobo, he told me the El Paso company couldn’t cover it because they were working on a big trafficking case. Turns out the drug dealers they were looking for all along were the ones in Rio Lobo. Now that the two cases have merged, they don’t have much use for me. This was never going to be a long-term job. But it’s bittersweet to know I’m leaving soon. I’ve come to love this little town.

Ariana and I watch the reflection of the sunlight on the water. There’s so much I want to say to her that I don’t even know where to begin.

She does it for me.

Ariana holds up a note Willow left her and says, “Rumor has it you’re single.”

“I am,” I say, grinning sheepishly.

I stare into her dark eyes. She looks as beautiful as always, but I know her well enough to tell when she’s guarding her emotions. There’s something she’s not telling me.

“How about it?” I say. “Want to join the Texas Rangers and maybe date one while you’re at it?”

Ariana gives me a sad, sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Rory. I can’t. Last night the town council voted to make me the new police chief.”

I try to appear stoic, but my heart is breaking.

“Congratulations,” I say. “I mean that sincerely. You’ll do the job better than anyone else could.”

“I hope you understand,” she says. “This is my home, and it needs me. Now more than ever.”

“Trust me,” I say. “I know the importance of home.”

The problem is I’m not sure where home is anymore. The town of Redbud has always been home. My parents’ ranch has always been home. But my little house on the property—that was something I shared with Willow. Even though she was in Nashville more than she was there, I still thought of it as our home.

I’ve known for a long time that I was going to be starting over. But for a while I thought I might be starting over with Ariana.

Not starting over alone.

Now I think about how strange it’s going to feel going back to Redbud, trying to step back into my old life as if I’m the same person. I don’t feel like the same person who drove into the town of Rio Lobo only a month ago. Ariana says she needs to stay in her home, but for me, for the first time in my life, I feel like maybe I need to find a new home.

Ariana picks up the cardboard box and hands it to me.

“Something to remember me by,” she says.

I open the box, and a big grin fills my face. Inside is a brand-new ivory-colored Stetson. I take out the hat and set it atop my head.

“How’s it fit?” she asks.

“Perfect.”

And it does.

Without another word, Ariana leans over and puts her lips against mine. She gives me a long, passionate kiss.

Then she breaks away and says, “Come on, cowboy.”

As we walk along the river, I can’t help but smile, thinking about what a great first kiss that was. And then a feeling of sadness rushes through me like a cold breeze.

Not only was it our first kiss—it was also our last.

Epilogue

I STEER MY brand-new Ford F-150 through the crowded parking lot of Isleta Amphitheater, a fifteen-thousand-person concert stadium south of Albuquerque. On the passenger seat next to me is the new Stetson Ariana gave me. On the floor, leaning against the seat, is the guitar and case Willow gave me.

The parting gifts of the two women in my life.

After I park, I walk through the crowds of people, make my way through the long line at the gate, and find a place to sit on the lawn, which overlooks the empty stage and the rolling desert hills behind it. It’s a beautiful venue for a concert. Everyone is decked out in cowboy hats and country music concert T-shirts. All I had to do was take off my badge, belt, and tie, and I fit right in. I might seem a little overdressed, but I don’t think anyone will notice. If anything makes me look unusual it’s the fact that I’m carrying around an old high school football jersey.

This morning, when I got into my truck—which my company commander had delivered to Rio Lobo yesterday—I had every intention of driving east toward Waco. But then I realized what day it was—checked and double-checked the date to make sure I was right—and I headed west and north instead.