Picking Up the Pieces

by Carolina Mac

  She sat on the bottom step listening to the fire hissing and crackling. I moved down and sat on the step beside her. She took my hand and stared at the smoldering barn and she cried.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Saturday, April 25th.

  McKenna Ranch.

  EVEN after two showers the smell of smoke was still on my skin and in my hair. The only reason I could get out of bed to face the day and the mess in our lives and especially the blackened mess on the far side of the corral was because of Linda. Just knowing she was downstairs on the sofa waiting to help me made all the difference.

  I pulled on a clean pair of work jeans, grabbed a black t-shirt from my drawer and headed downstairs to make coffee. We would need gallons of it today.

  To my surprise, Linda was sitting at the kitchen table, the table was set for breakfast and coffee was ready. She smiled and jumped up to fill a mug for me.

  “I can get my own.”

  “I know that.” She set the mug in front of me and sat down. “Do you want to eat breakfast or wait for Clay and Jack?”

  “I’ll wait for Jack. Clay has been sleeping later like he’s supposed to do. He’s not healing as fast as I thought he might.”

  Linda reached over and patted my hand and said nothing. That was another thing I loved about her—she didn’t talk a lot.

  Cadence and Rusty barked and I glanced at the screen door but couldn’t see who it was. Linda hopped up and took a look. “Fire Marshall.”

  “I’d better go out.”

  Linda brought her coffee with her and sat on the porch steps while I talked to Pete Omega.

  “You talk to your insurance company yet, Logan?”

  “This morning. I’ll do it this morning.”

  He pulled out a card. “I’ll have a report ready by tomorrow. Tell them to get in touch with me. I’ve already talked to Sheriff Tucker and the arsonist is in custody.”

  “Jacky caught him and took him down,” I said.

  “Lucky y’all got here when you did. You wouldn’t have known who set it.”

  “I think Dean was sent by someone else. The sheriff is looking into it.”

  “I’d better get to work,” Pete said.

  With my second coffee, I went into my office and called our insurance company to get the ball rolling. I wasn’t sure if Daddy had kept up insurance on the barn, but I was about to find out in a hurry. Our agent wasn’t in the office yet, but I was assured he would give me a call the minute he arrived.

  Jacky wandered into the kitchen in just a pair of jeans and seemed a bit startled to see Linda frying up a big pan of bacon at the stove.

  “Oh, hi, Linda. I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “You might need extra help today. I’ll just keep y’all fed and stay out of the way.”

  Jack smiled. “Logan tries hard, but I look forward to your cooking.”

  Sheriff’s Office. Preston.

  AFTER breakfast, Linda and I drove into Preston to the sheriff’s office. We left Jack and the hands cleaning up what they could, but the barn was still smoldering and too hot to get near.

  Sheriff Tucker was in his office looking as grim as I’d ever seen him. “Bad news, Logan. Ivan and I went up to Swain’s trailer and it seems he’s cleared out of there. I have a warrant out for his arrest and hope we can catch him and bring him in for questioning soon.”

  “Did y’all talk to Bobby Paisley?”

  “We did and he says he knows nothing about Dean setting fire to your barn.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “No, I did not, but I have no evidence that he was in on it.”

  “How did Dean get to our ranch from way out at the Paisley place?” I asked. “There was no vehicle on our road.”

  “Can’t explain it, son. Somebody dropped Dean off and was probably going to pick him up, but we didn’t find anybody and that’s the problem in a nutshell.”

  “Unless Dean incriminates Paisley or Swain, he’s going to take the fall himself.”

  “That’s right, Logan. Dean has been charged and he’s asked for a public defender. He’s not mentioning any names, so he’ll have to go it alone.”

  “Uh huh. I was just checking,” I said. “Or hoping Dean would have mentioned Micky Swain.”

  “I’ll let you know if he does. I feel bad for you boys,” said the sheriff. “Losing your Daddy and all this happening to y’all. It’s been a terrible time. I hope it’s over.”

  “Not quite over, Sheriff. We have to testify in all those trials coming up.”

  “The one I’m most interested in is Harper Gabriel,” said the sheriff. “She shot Bonne Sue and damned near killed her and she shot Clay. I hope she gets life without parole.”

  “I’m with you there, Sheriff.” I stood up and shook his hand. “Let me know if I can help with anything. I’ve got to get to the feed store and put in a replacement order.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Damned shame, Logan. That’s what it is.”

  Broken Spur Roadhouse.

  MISS Jane was in tears when Linda and I called into the roadhouse on our way back to the ranch. She hugged me and sobbed. “This is so terrible for y’all. What a setback, sweetheart. What can I do to help y’all?”

  “Not much anyone can do until the barn cools down and we can start the cleanup. I’m thankful we didn’t lose any of the horses. Mostly hay, straw, feed and one of the saddles. Our hands got everything else out.”

  “What a sad day for y’all. I heard that boy who works for Bobby Paisley set the fire. Why on earth would he do that?”

  “I think somebody paid him to do it,” I said.

  “I’ll keep my ears open, Logan. Won’t take long until people are talking about who was behind it.”

  McKenna Ranch.

  WHEN Linda and I got back to the ranch there was a surprise waiting for us. Buster Tate was sitting on our porch and Jacky and Clay didn’t seem pleased to see him there.

  I parked the truck and walked towards the house holding Linda’s hand. “Buster, what brings you to our ranch?”

  “I know y’all are pissed at me, but I wanted to say sorry and thanks for taking care of Mama while I was… knocked unconscious.”

  “You can’t just say sorry, Buster. You stole our bull and I intend to press charges against you. How do I know you’re not going to cut through the back field and take another one whenever you get the notion?”

  “I won’t, Logy, I swear it.”

  “You get on home, Buster Tate, and don’t you set foot on McKenna land. If you do, I’ll have Sheriff Tucker arrest your thieving ass.”

  He stood up and started walking. “I hear you, Logan. I’m going and I won’t be back. Count on it.”

  “I am counting on it, Buster.” I smiled at Jack and Clay. “Let’s have a cold one, boys. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  While Jacky went inside to get the beer, Linda and I took our second walk down the lane past the corral. Under the row of pecan trees, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

  “I love you, Linda, and I need you now more than I’ve ever needed anybody.”

  “Don’t be afraid to take a chance on me, Logan. I won’t let you down. I swear it. I love you so much.” She pushed me up against the fence, her warm body pressing into mine. “I want you, Logan. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

  My heart pounded as I kissed her and I knew I’d made the right decision.

  Author Notes from Carolina:

  Thank you for reading Picking up the Pieces, Book one in my new contemporary western series Broken Spur. If you have a moment to leave a quick rating or review on Amazon, I’d love to know what you thought and I’m sure other readers would too.

  If you enjoyed the story and want to continue reading, I’ve included a few pages of Comeback Trail, Book Two, to get you started. If you want more than a tease, you can find it on Amazon.

  A special thank you to the fans who take the time to reach out
and share their ideas, support, and opinions. You know who you are: Lynn, Dorothy, Shelley, Diane, Wendy, Shirley and Freda, Dawn, Alice, Billy and Melinda, Jim and Gayle, Ava, Terry and Celestia, Alisia and Pat to name a few.

  Carolina Mac is the author of seventy books in six different series. The Regulators biker series, The Quantrall PI series, The Blackmore Agency series, The Paradise Park series, The Broken Spur series and also Misty’s Magic & Mayhem series co-authored with her daughter J.L. Madore.

  Carolina lives with her family in Ontario, Canada.

  To access my author page on Amazon and see all my books out so far, click here.

  Where to find me:

  Carolina Mac: Facebook, Reader Forum, Blog:, Instagram:, Newsletter: sign up

  Regulator Series:

  Lily

  Bad Beat

  Panama Annie

  Coulter

  Searching for Billy

  End of an Era

  Wingman

  Triple Homicide

  The Foundation

  Hotline

  Powell

  The Last Regulator

  Quantrall Series:

  Quantrall

  Ink Minx

  Ray Jay

  Blacky

  The Coven

  You Forgot to say Goodbye

  Payback

  Rags to Rage

  The Corner Office

  Race

  Coma

  No Defense

  Full Circle

  Stick a Needle In Your Eye

  Crude

  The Blackmore Agency Series:

  Double Down

  Splitting Aces

  Dead Man’s Hand

  Drawing Dead

  Under the Gun

  Rivered

  The Turn

  Final Table

  Cat

  Dog

  Vigilance

  Mystere

  Hole in the Heart

  Dead Eye

  Backwater

  Road Kill

  Street Rat

  Hoodoo

  Crowbar

  Night Vipers

  Short Fuse

  Cinnamon

  Parole

  Eight Seconds

  Junkyard Dog

  Revoked

  Paradise Park Series:

  Paradise Park

  Return to Paradise

  Paradise Sparks

  Alone in Paradise

  Together in Paradise

  Prisoner in Paradise

  Escape from Paradise

  Deliverance

  Misty’s Magick & Mayhem Series:

  School for Reluctant Witches

  School for Saucy Sorceresses

  School for Unwitting Wiccans

  Nine Saint Gillian Street

  The Ghost of Pirate’s Alley

  Jinxing Jackson Square

  Flame (coming soon)

  Broken Spur Series:

  Picking up the Pieces

  The Comeback Trail

  CHAPTER ONE

  Monday, May 18th.

  McKenna Ranch.

  THE Texas sun is beating down hard on the roofers this morning as they put the finishing touches on shingling the roof of the McKenna bull breeding barn.

  I’m sitting on the porch with my brothers, Clay and Jack, drinking coffee and staring at our beautiful new barn paid for by fire insurance money we didn’t know we had.

  A few weeks ago, we were devastated by a chain of events that left us hurt, wounded, depressed and almost ready to give up. But a month later a little bit of light is shining at the end of the tunnel.

  Luckily Daddy had kept up with all our bills before he passed on, and even though, Jacky, Clay and I thought we were broke and headed for the poorhouse, that wasn’t the case.

  Daddy shocked the shit out of us and left us in good shape at the bank. Now we’ve got a foothold in the business of bull breeding and with a little help from some kind people, we’re learning as we go. Hands on.

  With Daddy’s three bulls—Crusher, Thor and Presto—who retired from the PBR with the distinction of never being ridden—all we have to do is produce some healthy young bulls and make a name for ourselves in the rodeo world.

  I finished my coffee, set the mug down on the step and stood up. “Better get Bowie saddled and get back to the pasture field,” I said. “I’ll never make a comeback sitting on the porch on my ass.”

  Jacky grinned. At twenty-four he was the youngest of the three of us. Clay was twenty-seven and I was over the hill at thirty-one. I’d quit the rodeo over a year before when things were going badly in my life, but with the encouragement of my two brothers and Linda Loudon, a champion barrel racer that I happened to be in love with, I was trying for a comeback.

  “See you in a couple of hours, Logy,” said Clay. “I’ve got therapy on my shoulder at eleven, but Jacky can take me if you’re not finished.”

  “I’ll finish up at ten-thirty and drive you, Clay. Last time when you finished your session, your arm was too sore to drive home.”

  “I remember. My therapist is a bully.”

  “We should all go to Preston,” said Jack. “I have to talk to Sheriff Tucker while Clay has his therapy, then we could all go to the Spur for lunch and a cold one before we come home.”

  My brothers would make up any excuse to drop by the Broken Spur roadhouse for a pitcher of beer. It had been Daddy’s hangout of choice and we hung there with him most of the time.

  One of the reasons Daddy was always there, was the lady who ran the roadhouse, Miss Janey O’Brien. Daddy was in love with Miss Jane and the feeling was mutual. She was like our second Momma.

  I strode over to the corral, picked up my saddle and got Bowie ready to go for a couple of hours of practice. I’d been giving lessons to a couple of younger guys who were keen to compete, and they were coming along real well. They were entered into a couple of the rodeos coming up shortly and we all intended to go and cheer them on.

  AFTER my practice round in the hot Texas sun, I took a quick shower and changed my clothes to drive Clay to the hospital for his therapy. He’d been shot in the upper arm by a girl named Harper Gabriel, a wild red-haired cowgirl who once had worked for us. Her trial was coming up at the end of the week and nobody was looking forward to testifying against her in a courtroom, least of all Clay.”

  The other victim of Harper’s shooting rampage was Bonnie Sue Dempster, Deputy Sheriff in Preston. She had been shot in the chest, almost died, and only recently had she been released from the hospital.

  Clay had gone to see Bonnie Sue almost every day since the shooting and they had become close—kind of a bonding thing—over both of them being shot.

  The boys were leaning on Daddy’s old pickup smoking by the time I cleaned up and was ready to go. “We were ready to leave without you, Logy,” said Jack with a little smirk on his face. Jack was the lady killer out of the three of us. Girls swarmed around him like bees to honey, and most of the time he paid them no mind.

  “Hey, I hurried.” They stamped out their butts in the dirt, hopped in and I slid behind the wheel.

  “How was your practice session?” asked Clay.

  “Good, but it was hotter than the hubs out there in the field. Later in the week I need a timer. I want to know exactly what I’m doing before Saturday.”

  “I can do it,” said Clay, “or one of your wannabees can do it. What days are they coming for their lessons?”

  “Tomorrow and Thursday.”

  “Gonna be a great weekend,” said Clay. “I’m singing at the Spur too. Butch called and asked me to come on Friday night.”

  “Fantastic,” I said. “You’ve missed that.”

  Sheriff’s Office. Preston.

  WE left Clay at the front entrance of the hospital and drove down the main street of Preston to Sheriff Tucker’s office. He’d called Jack and asked to speak to him in person. Jack didn’t know what it was about, and he was a little nervous, so he asked me to go with him.


  The sheriff, a big guy not in the best of shape but with a lot of years in law enforcement stepped out of his small office and greeted us with a big smile. That in itself was a bit unusual, because Sheriff Tucker wasn’t that kind of a guy. More like tense and by the book. We’d got kind of used to him glaring at us every time we popped into his office to ask him a question.

  “Come on in, Jacky. Glad to see you, boy. You can come along too, Logan, although this has nothing to do with you.”

  “I can wait out here if its private.”

  Jack shook his head and motioned me to come with, so I followed my little brother into the sheriff’s office and sat down.

  Sheriff Tucker sank down into the well-worn leather chair behind his cluttered desk and didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “As y’all know, and everybody in Preston and for miles around knows, we’re short-handed here at the sheriff’s office.”

  Jack listened and didn’t say anything.

  “Going over all the possibilities in town and in my county, I decided that you, Jack McKenna, are the most likely candidate to be a crackerjack deputy sheriff.”

  “What?”

  I tried not to laugh at the surprised look on Jacky’s face.

  “Yep. I can see that you’re a little surprised by my decision, but I’ve thought it over carefully, and you, Jack McKenna, have all the qualifications I want and need. The only thing we’d need to sharpen you up on would be your shooting skills, of course.”

  “I’m not much of a shooter, Sheriff,” said Jacky. “In fact, I might be in the terrible category.”

  Ignoring the facts laid bare about Jack’s shooting skills, or lack of them, Sheriff Tucker didn’t pause. “When can you start, son? I need you right away.”

  “Yeah, but we’re busy, Sheriff.” Jacky put up a fight. “Me and my brothers are ranchers and we’re getting our bull birthing business going right now.”