by Carolina Mac
“Okay, Logan, here we go.” She tapped her computer screen with the end of her pen. “I’ll write these dates down for y’all, but I’m sure someone will be in touch with y’all about your testimony before the time comes.”
She wrote names and dates on her yellow pad, then tore the page off and gave it to me. I looked over all the names and nodded my head. “I think you got them all, Mrs. Greene. Thank you very much for your help.”
“You’re very welcome, dear. I was so sorry to hear about your Daddy passing. Kenny McKenna was a local legend in this part of Texas.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Greene. He was. We were proud of him.”
Sheriff’s Office. Preston.
SHERIFF Tucker was in his office when Jacky and I checked in with him. “Don’t you boys have work to do? I heard y’all were starting up a new bull-breeding operation.”
“We have work to do, Sheriff, and lots of it, but I wanted to let you know that Micky Swain paid me a visit earlier today and threatened me. He told me to stay out of his business and stay away from Carson Wagoner or he’d beat my face in.”
The sheriff’s blue eyes widened. “That so?”
“He came to the ranch on his Harley.”
“Uh huh. Making threats.”
“We just came from the DA’s office with a list of the trials coming up,” I said. “Hope I’m not beat to a pulp before I get to testify.”
“Most threats are empty, Logan. During my years in this office, I’ve found that threats made in anger hardly ever come to fruition.”
I shrugged. “Just giving you a heads-up, Sheriff. Don’t want you to be without a suspect when they find my body.”
“Nice of you, Logan.” He smirked. “I’ll know exactly which trailer to look in.”
“One other thing, Sheriff, before we let you get back to work.”
The sheriff groaned. “Out with it, Logan.”
“Are you arresting Buster Tate when he’s able to leave the hospital?”
“I sent Ivan over to talk to Buster Tate and he says Doyle Hutton paid him to help him with a cattle job and he had no idea they were stealing your bull.”
“Bullshit,” I hollered. “He said sorry to us for stealing Presto, Sheriff. And he told us they promised him two or three thousand as his share of the ransom money. He absolutely did know they were stealing our bull.”
“I better have a talk to him myself,” said the sheriff. “Buster isn’t known for his great brain.”
“That’s a fact,” I mumbled. I was becoming angrier by the minute and I didn’t care for the feeling.
Broken Spur Roadhouse.
WE picked Clay up and on our way to the roadhouse, Jack said, “Sheriff Tucker didn’t seem to be taking Swain’s threat seriously, Logy. I think we should keep our shotguns loaded at the door in case trouble comes our way.”
“Good plan. We can’t count on the sheriff for too much protection. He’s spread pretty thin.” I changed the subject and asked Clay, “How was Bonnie Sue today?”
“They let her out of ICU and she’s in her own room. She’s pretty happy about that. Her mom is sitting with her most of the time.”
“Did you pop into see Buster?” asked Jack.
“For a minute or two. He was grumpy and miserable as usual, so I think he’s almost back to normal.”
We went into the roadhouse for lunch and I glanced around looking for Carson Wagoner and there was no sign of her. “Good she’s not here.”
“Let’s enjoy a pitcher and not think about any of them,” said Jack. “I’m sick of the whole lot.”
“I’m for that,” said Clay. “Bring it.”
McKenna Ranch.
JACKY and I were hard at it in the barn working with Clint and Jay on how the barn should be set up for the bull operation. My cell signaled a text and I ignored it until we finished the job we were doing.
On my way to the house to make sure Clay took his meds, I checked my cell, and the text was from Linda. I smiled. We used to text each other all the time, and I had missed it. So much.
“You up for a beer at the Spur tonight?”
“Okay. Eight?”
“Eight is fine.”
Jacky caught up with me, saw the smile on my face and asked, “That Linda?”
“Spur at eight.”
“I’m for that.” Jack held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t sit with y’all.”
I chuckled. “I’m not worried, Jacky. We always go to the Spur together. Clay will want to come too.”
Broken Spur Roadhouse.
MISS Jane was all smiles when we walked into the roadhouse at ten to eight. She rushed towards me and whispered, “She’s here, Logan. Linda is waiting for you.”
I smiled because Miss Jane was so excited. She had always loved Linda and she and Daddy had hoped for a wedding when things were going well for the two of us.
“I’ll find her, Miss Jane. You take care of Clay for me, would you?”
“I certainly will. I’ve got my eye on him.”
Unsure how this first date would go, I held my breath as I crossed the dancefloor to the booth where Linda was sitting all alone. I slid into the seat across from her and said, “Hi.”
She flashed me her beautiful smile and my heart picked up the pace. I’d missed her so much, and yet I didn’t want to get sucked into something that could finish me if it went badly. I was certain I wouldn’t survive that pain again.
“You’re so tanned, Logan. You look great.”
“I had to get into shape to work with the guys I’m coaching. No way I could show them how it was done without a lot of practice before I started their lessons.”
Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the wall lantern. “It would be so cool if you came out of retirement and we were on the circuit at the same time.”
Ricki came and took our order, not looking too happy to see me with Linda.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to compete again, although it’s on my mind a lot. Are you ready for the spring dates?”
“I think I’m ready. My times are good, but Lightning Lizzie Rideout is a crazy woman, Logan. The moves she makes and chances she takes are dangerous and insane and still she stays on her horse and she beats me. She’s my biggest worry.”
“I don’t know enough about your event to help you, Linda. Doesn’t your Daddy coach you?”
“He always did, but over the winter he wasn’t feeling too well. He had pneumonia and he’s not himself.”
“Maybe we should look at some of your old videos and see if we could pick up anything you could improve on.”
Linda’s beautiful face lit up. “Would you sit through them with me, Logan? I’d appreciate it so much.”
“Bring them over tomorrow night and we’ll watch a few with the boys and see what’s what.”
Ricki brought our drinks and I began to relax. My heart thumped in my chest as I reached across the table for Linda’s hand and as I was about to touch her Fiona appeared at the end of our table, her face angry and dark like a thundercloud.
“I can see now why you gave me the brushoff, Logan McKenna. I can take a hint.”
Fiona walked off in a huff and I said to Linda, “She can’t take a hint, Linda. I said no to her, plain and simple. I told her I wasn’t interested, and she said I needed more time.”
“She’s very pretty,” said Linda, “but who is she? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”
“She’s the new vet in Broken Spur, Doctor Fiona Lonnigan. When she first set up shop, she didn’t like me a bit. She was all over Jacky boy and when that didn’t go anywhere, she moved onto me. I expect Clay will be her next target.”
“Is Clay seeing Bonnie Sue Dempster?”
“They went out once or twice and Clay wasn’t on board and you could tell that. But since she got shot, Clay has gone to see her in the hospital almost every day.”
“He must like her a little bit,” said Linda.
As was her habit, Miss Jane made her rounds
to all the tables and booths making sure her customers were happy. She sat down and joined Linda and me for a minute. “Hank said Micky Swain was here for a couple of pitchers with Bobby Paisley.”
“Oh yeah? That’s interesting,” I said. “I asked Sheriff Tucker if he’d talked to Paisley or Buster Tate.”
“And had he?” asked Miss Jane.
“He sent Ivan to talk to Buster and Buster denied knowing anything about stealing our bull.”
Miss Jane giggled. “How could he not know he was stealing Presto if he was on your ranch loading your bull onto Doyle’s truck?”
I shrugged. “Another one of Buster’s lies.”
“I’ve been missing out on all the action,” said Linda. “Can you catch me up on what happened to y’all?”
I let out a breath. “So much has happened, I don’t know where to start.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Friday, April 24th.
McKenna Ranch.
CLINT rode in from the back pasture field and found me at the corral fence. “A couple of cows could use the vet, boss. Want to have a look at them before you call?”
“I trust your judgement, Clint. I’ll call Fiona and see if she’s speaking to me.”
Clint grinned. “You got trouble with the lady vet?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure we’re on speaking terms. We might have to get ourselves another vet.”
Clint chuckled while I tried Fiona’s office. She didn’t have a receptionist and answered her own phone.
“Hey, Fiona, this is Logan. I’ve got a couple of cows need a look-see. Are you busy this morning?”
“I can come in an hour, Logan.” Her voice was icy cold.
I stared at the blank screen and Clint asked, “She hang up on you, boss?”
“Yep, but she’s coming in an hour.”
“All good.” Clint couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
AN hour later, Doctor Lonnigan rolled in the drive and not bothering to stop when she saw me at the corral, she drove past the house and down the lane to the pasture field. Jack and I saddled up quick as we could and galloped down the lane to catch up.
She was out of her truck walking through the herd when we caught up to her. With a practiced eye, Fiona zeroed in on one of the cows not looking up to par and examined her.
Jack and I watched and didn’t ask questions. Better not to rile her up more than she was already. We hadn’t parted last night on the friendliest of terms.
She hollered out the name of the disease and I had no idea what it was. “Take the two I’ve marked. I’ve already given them a shot. Isolate them in a separate field until I have another look at them in about a week. If they’re over it by then, they can go back in with the rest of the herd.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said. “We’ll do that, Doc.”
Fiona left and Jack and I moved the two sick cows to their own little piece of paradise on the McKenna ranch. We made sure they had ample water and cracked open a couple of bales for them.
“Hope we don’t lose them,” I said. “Won’t be a good start to have two of our mama cows die.”
We rode back to the barn and Clint was standing next to the corral. “I saw the vet leave.” He smirked. “She wasn’t wearing a happy face, boss.”
“Guess she doesn’t like to see sick cows.”
He chuckled. “Guess not.”
LATER in the day the lumber arrived from the mill for the new birthing stalls we were building in the back section of the barn. Most of the horses had been moved outside because the April weather was warm, and they preferred it outside running loose in the corral.
Clint and Jay helped Jacky and me sort the lumber and stack it in a neat pile next to the corral. If rain was in the forecast we’d have to throw a tarp over it or haul it all inside the barn. I didn’t really want it all inside the barn until we needed it, gave us more room to work.
Broken Spur Roadhouse.
WHEN it came time for supper, Jacky and Clay weren’t in the mood for my cooking and they voted for burgers at the Spur. I didn’t like my own cooking all that much either and I was quick to agree.
We drove into town and were lucky enough to grab the last empty table. Friday nights were busy, and Miss Jane always had a live band on the weekend.
“Wish I was playing with the band tonight,” said Clay.
“Could you just sit on one of those stools and sing?” I asked him. “I’m sure Butch wouldn’t mind.”
“I’d look like a loser with no guitar and my arm in a sling.”
“You got shot, Clay,” said Jacky, “by a wild crazy bitch. You’re not a loser. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Wonder if Laney and Kate will be here tonight?”
“I hope not,” said Jacky. “I don’t want them to spoil my pitcher of beer.”
“How would they spoil it?” I asked.
“My drinking would be off if I had to look at them.”
Clay chuckled.
Ricki brought us our first pitcher and we settled in to enjoy Friday night at the Spur. A McKenna family tradition. We’d always come on Friday nights with Daddy.
None of the people we didn’t want to see showed up to bother us and we had a great night, just the three of us. The band was great, the burgers were juicy, the beer was ice cold. We kicked back and had ourselves a time.
We were a little drunk when we left, and Miss Jane cautioned us to be careful and drive slow on the way home.
McKenna Ranch.
JACKY and Clay were dozing in the truck and I was halfway down the county road when I saw the orange glow in the sky. At first I thought it was a harvest moon, then remembered it was only April.
We got a bit closer and I could see flames shooting into the sky above the trees. “That’s our place,” I hollered and stepped on it.
Clay and Jack jerked awake and started hollering at me to hurry. We were parked in front of the house three minutes later and our barn was in full blaze. Clint and Jay were running out the barn door with the horses and we ran to help them.
“How many more in there?”
“No more. They’re all out,” hollered Jay over the noise of the crackling and snapping of dry wood.
“Did you call the fire department?” I yelled.
“They should be here in a minute,” Clint hollered back. “How far do they have to come?”
“Couple of miles,” I said. Then I saw somebody running through the dark heading for the fence “Get him, Jacky.”
Jacky turned, saw the guy running for the fence and sprinted after him. Jack lunged and took the guy down just as I caught up. Jack pounded him a couple of good ones in the face and held him down. “Get a rope, Logy. Hurry.”
I ran to my saddle in the tack room at the end of the barn, grabbed my rope and ran back to where Jack had the guy face down in the dirt. Jack wound the rope around him and held him fast.
“I’m gonna get the saddles out of the tack room,” I hollered. I ran back towards the barn and heard the sirens. A minute later the fire truck was there along with three carloads of volunteers. Were they in time to save our barn?
I didn’t think so. Most of it was blazing and pieces of flaming wood were flying sky high. It was scorching hot as I tried to get near the tack room, but I couldn’t let our saddles go up in flames.
Jay pitched into help me and we got two more out and ran with them to the porch. As we turned to go back the firemen took over and wouldn’t let us near the tack room or the barn.
“Go sit on the porch,” hollered Nate Semple. “Get away from the barn. We don’t need to worry about y’all.”
Sheriff Tucker arrived next. He parked his Bronco far from the heat of the flames and he and Ivan got out and walked towards us.
“We got the guy who lit the blaze,” hollered Jacky. “I tied him up, Sheriff.”
“Good job, Jacky. Let’s have a look at the bastard.” Sheriff Tucker walked with Ivan and Jack over to the fence where the guy lay face down in the dirt. The she
riff shone his flashlight and said, “Turn him over, Ivan. Let me get a look at this firebug.”
Ivan turned him over. Sheriff Tucker shone the light in his face, and right away, I recognized Dean, Bobby Paisley’s hired hand.
“That’s Dean. He works for Bobby Paisley,” I said.
“What’s your business setting barns on fire, son,” said the sheriff. “Arson is a crime. You know that?”
“Shut up, Sheriff.” Dean spat at him and the sheriff raised his boot but then thought better of it.
“Lock him up in the truck, Ivan. We’ll take a drive out to the Paisley ranch and see what Bobby’s got to say about this.”
“Yes, sir.” Ivan hauled Dean to his feet and drag-walked him to the Bronco.
Sheriff Tucker shook his head. “So sorry about your barn, boys. You are having a shit spring. That is the gospel truth.”
“Thanks, Sheriff,” I said, “maybe this is Micky Swain’s threat coming to fruition.”
“Uh huh. Could be. That thought crossed my mind already, son. Y’all take care. Ivan and I have got this.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
Clay, Jacky and I sat on the porch with Clint and Jay and watched our barn burn. The firemen did what they could, but it wasn’t enough to save it. By the morning, all we’d have left was the foundation and we’d have to build a new barn.
We were exhausted, covered in black soot from head to toe and miserable over our loss.
My cell signaled a text and I didn’t even want to look at it. I didn’t answer and a moment later Linda called.
“All you all right, Logan? You haven’t answered my last three texts.”
“Micky Swain burned our barn down. I can’t talk, Linda. There are no words.”
“That’s terrible, Logan. I understand.”
We were still sitting in the same spot drinking the last of our beer when Linda drove in the lane. She steered her truck close to the porch and parked.
She hopped out and pulled a big wicker basket out of the back seat. Without saying a word, she gave us all sandwiches and brownies.
