by Rayna Morgan
“Tell it to my wife,” Rick said. “She’s on my case for the overtime I’ve put in covering for this slacker.”
“She should be happy you’re bringing home some extra bread,” JJ said. He handed Rick the paper bag and drove away from the window.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Rick said, handing out the food. “With two kids and another on the way, there’s never enough dough.”
“Then why do you keep having kids?” JJ asked.
“That’s the question of the hour. We had trouble having the first kid. Now, all I do is look at the wife, and she gets pregnant.”
“So, quit looking at her, or take the initiative and make sure you’re shooting blanks,” Pat said.
“Look, I’m sorry if I caused you trouble at home,” JJ said. He turned to look at Rick. “You should have said something. I could have found someone else to cover for me.”
“Forget it, man. It’s not only the overtime. It seems like nothing I do makes my wife happy lately.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Pat asked.
“You might say that, or you might say she’s losing patience being married to a cop.”
“You should talk to Tom,” JJ said. “He counsels cops on keeping their marriage together.”
“I know, but I’m don’t want to become his pet project of the month. In fact, I don’t want anyone at the precinct to know I’m having problems at home. Let’s just drop it and forget we had this conversation, okay?”
“Whatever you say, man, just trying to help,” JJ answered. He turned his eyes back to the road.
“I don’t need your help, or yours,” Rick said, looking over his shoulder at Pat.
“I’m beginning to see why you’re having trouble with your wife,” she murmured.
“Something you need to learn besides policing, Rookie,” Rick said.
“What’s that?”
“To keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you.” Rick wadded his food wrapper and threw it in the empty bag.
“Or what?”
“Or you won’t be around long enough to get past being a rookie.”
• • •
When Pat returned to the precinct, Tom was waiting. He waved her in his office where she related her conversation with JJ and Rick.
“Rick’s having problems at home. His wife resents his job and their financial situation. It could be a reason for him to look for a lucrative way to supplement his income or to get out of police work altogether.”
She fidgeted. “And then, there’s JJ.”
Tom frowned. “What about JJ?”
Pat proceeded with caution, afraid Tom’s history with the young officer might cloud his judgment. Tom had taken JJ under his wing when the cadet graduated from the Academy, looking out for him like a younger brother. The two cops were patrol-mates and had worked together on some major busts.
“He’s missed shifts twice in the last month. He says he’s been having stomach problems.”
“It’s not surprising since he’s a junk-food addict.”
“I checked with personnel. He never took a single sick day prior to your clamping down on the Kingpin the last several months.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Tom said in a tone filled with displeasure, “but I’ll look into it.”
• • •
Tom found JJ pouring over paperwork at his desk. He leaned over the young man’s shoulder.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“Sometimes, I think it’s not worth making an arrest,” JJ said, “with all the crappy reports we’ve got to do.”
“You knew that when you signed on.”
“Yeah, but it makes me feel better to spout off about it.”
“You’ve probably got more than your share with your recent time off.”
“You riding me about it, too?” Rick asked, looking at the lieutenant more closely. “I got a bellyful of it from Rick already.”
“Bellyful is an apt description. He said you’re having stomach problems. You got an ulcer?”
“The scumbags we arrest are enough to give anyone ulcers.”
“No argument from me. Have you seen a doctor?”
“Naw, the pharmacist gave me something for it. It seems to be helping. Why are you so interested in my health?”
“Just looking out for a fellow officer,” Tom said.
“Your concern is touching.”
“I wouldn’t want you getting sick out in the field when you’re supposed to have my back.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve always had your back; I always will.”
• • •
Tom saw Pat sitting at a table in the breakroom. “Hope that’s a fresh pot of joe.”
“Brewed with my own hands,” Pat said.
He pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup. “I will say the coffee’s been better since you arrived. The guys make it strong enough to choke a horse.”
“I hope it’s not the only improvement I’ve brought.”
As he pulled out a chair, he leaned over and whispered. “You’re reading things into JJ taking a couple of days off.”
She kept her voice low. “You don’t think there could be more to JJ’s sick days than a stomach-ache?”
“Spit it out. What are you suggesting?” Tom asked. The sharpness in his voice surprised her.
“Mickey Flynn offered JJ a job as a dealer at the Card Club when the two of you questioned Mickey.”
“Which JJ refused,” Tom said.
“Have you considered JJ might have rejected Mickey’s offer because he was already working for Mickey’s boss, the Kingpin himself?”
Tom’s jaw clenched. Pat knew she was pushing the boundaries, but she pressed anyway. “You’ve taught me to search for reasons behind people’s actions.”
“What reason would JJ have for going to work for the Kingpin? He wants the scum behind bars as much as I do.”
“Since I came on board, JJ’s been riding with me instead of with you. Maybe he thinks it’s a sign that he’s not on the fast track in the division the way he thought he was. Maybe you two aren’t as tight as you think.”
“JJ knows why he’s been riding with you the past couple of months. He’s the best one for you to learn from, and he’s someone you can relate to. He’s a good cop, the kind you should model yourself after. If you were paying more attention to what you can learn from him, you might be doing your job better.”
He threw his coffee dregs in the sink and stomped out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maddy parked in front of the main lodge an hour before she and Lea were scheduled to meet with the chief.
The Miller Ranch was becoming one of Maddy’s favorite places to be, and the handsome cowboy walking to greet her was becoming one of her favorite people to be with.
Scott took off his hat, running his fingers through unruly, curly hair. His face was chiseled and strong; his eyes dark and deep, like pools of chocolate filled with flecks of hazelnut. But to her, the dimples which dented his cheeks at the sight of her were his most endearing feature.
He opened her door and took her hand to help her out. His touch made a shiver run through her.
“Gramps told me you and your sister were coming to visit the chief today.”
“I didn’t expect to see you,” she said, crossing her fingers behind her back. She had planned an early arrival in hopes of spending time with him. “Aren’t you usually out at daybreak riding herd on your cows?”
His smile broadened. “Don’t worry, Miguel and I have seen to the animals already. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s hardly first thing in the morning.”
“You country folks and us city folks operate in different time zones.”
“It’s not the only difference between us,” Scott said, “but that’s all right. It’s differences that add spice to a relationship.”
“Too much spice creates heartburn.” Maddy shook out her sundress and flopped a w
ide-brimmed hat on her head.
“I reckon you’ve caused plenty of men heartburn.”
She melted under his grin. “You aren’t teasing me, are you?”
“Just enjoying you, Maddy, like I always do. Have you got time to see the new foal before Lea gets here?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
• • •
He rested his hand on her shoulder as they walked to the barn and pointed out a gaggle of baby geese toddling after their mother.
“They’re adorable,” Maddy said, snapping a picture with her phone camera.
At the corral, they saw a man brushing a baby horse; a filly with white markings on its lower legs and a star on its forehead.
“I’ll bring her over to you,” Scott told Maddy.
Unhooking the latch and closing the gate behind him, Scott walked slowly toward the filly. “How’s she doing, Miguel?”
“She’s a smart one, boss, just like her momma.”
The young horse stood quietly to let Scott pet her forehead before she nudged the front of his shirt.
“See what I mean?” Miguel asked.
A smile spread across the face of both men as Scott reached into his pocket.
“Follow me, little one; you’ll get your treat,” he said, holding a baby carrot in the palm of his hand.
Maddy leaned over the top rail and stroked the horse’s head as it nibbled the orange morsel.
Scott turned his back on the horse and walked away, calling over his shoulder. “C’mon, Lucky. Let’s go.”
The filly raised her head, turned, and followed the cowboy’s lead around the corral.
“How does he do that?” Maddy asked the foreman when he joined her on the fence. “She’s following Scott without him holding her with a rope.”
“The boss has bonded with the filly. She trusts him; she knows she has nothing to fear. The horse enjoys spending time with him, so she’s willing to follow his lead. In the next few days, he’ll put a halter on to guide her.”
“That’s cool. The horse is doing what Scott asks of her own free will.”
“It’s the boss’ way. He makes everything a partnership, a two-way venture, with animals just like with people.”
Scott’s grandfather joined them, leaning against the top rail. “Fun to watch, aren’t they?”
“It seems to be the two of them in their own little world,” Maddy said.
“My grandson’s in the moment with the horse enjoying their time together. He does that with almost everything; stays in the moment. Most people are never present with what they’re doing. They’re thinking about something that happened the previous day or what they’ll be doing tomorrow. They cheat themselves out of a good part of what’s real in life by letting their mind carry them into fantasy worlds of daydreams or regrets.”
“Is that something you taught Scott when he was growing up?”
“Everybody learns the importance of living in the moment in their own way; some through good advice, some through loss, some by simply being quiet long enough to listen to their inner voice. Sadly, many people never figure it out.”
“Okay, Lucky, go play,” Scott hollered. He gave the filly a gentle slap on the rump. The horse whinnied and ran to join her mother and the other horses in the meadow.
They turned at the sound of tires crunching on the pebbled drive. A dog hung out of each back window of the approaching car.
“Thanks for suggesting my sister bring her dogs, Ralph,” Maddy said. She gave Scott an explanation. “Lea’s border collie has never had the experience of herding. I doubt she’s ever seen a cow. We’re anxious to see how Gracie reacts.”
“You mean you want to see if the dog displays the herding instincts natural to her breed?” Scott asked.
“Isn’t that what border collies do?”
Scott grinned. “Some bitches can’t be typecast.”
“If you’re referring to me,” Maddy said, “what can I say? I’d rather be someone’s shot of whiskey than everyone’s cup of tea.”
“C’mon. Let’s get your sister and the dogs sorted, and I’ll walk you to the chief’s house. You’re in for a treat.”
• • •
They walked beside a river reflecting shimmering sunlight. The dogs ran by their side and sniffed the underbrush as they shuffled through fallen leaves.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard so many birds in one place,” Lea said.
Maddy stopped and listened to a high-pitched, screeching sound. She pointed to the tallest branch of a sycamore tree. “There it is, a red-tailed hawk.”
“I didn’t know you knew about birds,” Lea said. She followed the line her sister’s finger traced.
“Katie taught me.”
“Kudos,” Scott said, “you’re a quick study.”
“Talking about a quick study, I’d like to learn something about the chief before we meet him,” Lea said. “How long has he lived on your ranch?”
“The chief’s family were among the few remaining native tribes when my great-grandfather staked out the land.”
“I know Chumash Indians have a history in this area,” Lea said, “but I’ll admit, I don’t know much about them.”
“In addition to being hunters and food-gatherers, they were boatbuilders and fishermen. The Chumash were the supply source for clamshell beads used as money by most of the settlers. Over the years, millions of shell beads were made and traded from the offshore islands. Chumash artists were also known for weaving baskets and painting rocks.”
“I always think of Indians in the olden days as living in tents,” Maddy said. “Is that true?”
“The chief’s ancestors lived in dome-shaped homes made of willow branches, whalebone, and netting. Light entered from a hole in the roof, and they built fires for cooking in the middle of the floor. He’s told me as many as fifty people could live in one house.
“In places like this where food was easy to get, men and women had time for story-telling, music, and artwork. Each village had an area for ceremonies and dancing. They used flutes made of wood or bone, musical bows, and rattles.”
“What happened to them?” Maddy asked, throwing a stick for Gracie. “You don’t see many of them around these parts anymore.”
“Spanish missions were established in Chumash territory in the eighteen-hundreds. They brought with them European diseases which all but destroyed the Indian population.”
“How did the chief come to live with you?”
“The Miller ranch was carved out of a portion of the old Chumash territory. My ancestors hired many of the chief’s tribe to work on the ranch. Except the chief’s forefathers, most of the Indians who lived on this land moved to a reservation.
“As the story goes, one of my fore-bearers had a gravely ill child. In modern medicine, the body and mind are treated separately, but the Chumash Indians saw the spirit, mind, and body as inseparable entities which could not be dealt with separately in disease.
“One of the chief’s ancestors mixed bark, roots, and flowers with animal fat. He painted it on the sick boy, but he also directed healing to the boy’s mind and spirit. The child lived, so the chief’s ancestor was asked to stay on the land to take care of the health and spiritual well-being of my relative’s family.”
“It’s an interesting story,” Lea said. “Do you think the chief has healing powers?”
“I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As they turned from the fence-line and approached a clearing, two dogs came running toward them. Scott leaned over and stroked the dogs as they sniffed Gracie and Spirit.
“These are the chief’s dogs, Tall-Grass and Running-Water.”
When they rounded a bend and Scott pushed open a wooden gate, Maddy gasped. The corners of Scott’s mouth turned up. “Were you expecting a dome-shaped hut made of willow branches?”
“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Maddy said of the picture-book setting, “but it wasn’t thi
s.”
They crossed a small bridge over a bubbling stream which emptied into a pond filled with orange-and-black fish. The sweet smell of lavender, roses, and jasmine rose from both sides of the path. Twirling wind chimes hung from the porch of a rambling ranch-style home.
The man who came down the walk to greet them had high cheekbones, a bent nose, reddish-brown skin, and coarse, dark hair, streaked with gray. An Indian woman waited on the porch, drying her hands on an apron.
“Welcome,” he said, grasping Maddy’s hands in his own. “You’re even lovelier than I remembered.”
Maddy’s face turned crimson as she glanced at Scott.
The chief turned to Lea. “And this must be your sister.”
The kindness in his eyes and his gentle smile made Lea feel like he was someone she had known a long time.
“Come meet my wife and join us inside. Aponi has prepared some light refreshments.”
“I’ll leave you with him,” Scott told Maddy and Lea. “I’ve got work to do. Why don’t I take Gracie and Spirit to the barn with me? My dogs will show them what a working dog’s day is all about.”
“Great idea,” Lea said. “They might learn something useful.”
“Probably nothing they’ll use at your house unless you need them to keep cows in line, but it might make them appreciate the pampering they get.”
Gracie and Spirit followed Scott with eager anticipation as Lea and Maddy went to meet the chief’s wife.
• • •
Years were etched into the woman’s face like lines on a map. The hands which she reached out were veined like the tributaries of a river.
“You have a beautiful name,” Lea told her.
“It means butterfly,” the old woman said.
The chief’s dogs stayed outside while the others entered a home furnished in modern and western styles which created an informal and gracious living environment.
Lea and Maddy sat on a couch while Aponi withdrew to the kitchen. The old man sat erect on a high-backed chair with his ankles crossed, and his arms folded across his chest.
“You have beautiful dogs, Lea. I can see that they are kind and wise spirit guides.”
“What do you mean, spirit-guides?” Maddy asked.
“There is a belief that animals possess souls and consciousness,” the chief said, “and that they are here to teach humans. It's not a chance event which brings a dog or cat into our life. They come to teach us specific lessons. Spirit-guides walk through life with a person, teaching, guiding, and protecting them.”
