Harts Of The Rodeo 3 - Duke - Deputy Cowboy

by Roz Denny Fox

  To prolong his visit, Duke poured a full cup. He didn’t need caffeine this late the night before he had to get up and leave early on a long drive. On the other hand, the coffee gave him reason to linger.

  “Can I pour you a cup? You should eat some of the pie you went to all the trouble to bake.”

  She waved off his offer. “Pie will keep. Now that Luke is outside, I’ll take time to thank you for the video. I’ll watch it tonight. I have to go to town tomorrow, so should I drop it off at the sheriff’s office?”

  Duke felt a jolt because he’d already envisioned coming back after his trip to pick it up as an excuse to see Angie again.

  “There’s no rush,” he finally said once he’d sipped coffee and formulated his thoughts. “I hope you decide to talk to Pam and let the kids meet, too. Dinah thinks they’d make a good team, even though Tommy insists on leading and he likes to win. Don’t forget I offered to work with the kids a few times out at Thunder Ranch when I get back.”

  “When will you return?”

  “Late Monday. I’ll check with you sometime Tuesday if I may.”

  “Sure. Is it difficult working as a deputy when you’re always shooting off to rodeos?”

  “It wasn’t until we started having these break-ins,” he said, frowning. “Before, Roundup wasn’t exactly a hotbed of criminal activity.”

  “Your aunt is devastated. That stallion is really important to her. Are there any leads as to his whereabouts?”

  Duke took another sip of coffee. “Not so far. We sent information about Midnight out to stock barns, auction sites and upcoming rodeos. The thieves may be stuck holding a horse that’s too hot to unload easily.”

  “When I lived at the horse farm in Tennessee, I remember talk of a ring that stole race horses. They did catch them eventually. They were successful for as long as they were because they dyed the horses in order to sell them. I know I joked about coming home and painting spots on the black gelding if anyone else claimed I had a black horse, and it was later I remembered the case in Tennessee. Could that be a possibility with Midnight?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible. I wouldn’t try to dye a stallion. Especially one born to buck. But greed drives people to do outlandish things. I’ll pass along your thoughts to Dinah. Thanks for the tip.”

  “Part of me hopes you find him soon for Sarah and Ace’s sake. Another part of me likes to think of that stallion running free instead of being hauled off to rodeos where he’s penned up in fly-infested muck. Or gets stuffed in a narrow chute where he’s cinched until it hurts and he’s prodded to buck to a stupid buzzer.”

  Duke’s head shot up. “Austin said you dislike rodeos. I assumed your beef was with the riders. Most stock contractors care about their animals. Ace and my dad keep close tabs on the health of our stock. Between rodeos, our horses and bulls are turned out to acres of grass. I’ve heard old stock contractors say their animals would buck to the buzzer whether or not they wear the belt. Bulls, now, their belt holds a cowbell. The noise of the clanging adds to their frenzy in trying to dislodge it and a rider. But they aren’t in pain.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree I’m afraid. I’ve seen too many horses mistreated because they’re no longer able to perform.”

  Setting his empty mug in the sink, Duke collected his hat. “Earl McKinley ran stock for years from Roundup, and now Aunt Sarah does the same. Earl’s horses lived to be old and gray. A lot of them retired happily to breed some of the circuit’s top buckers. Maybe there are more rules in place now than when your grandfather started his rescue ranch.”

  “Maybe. I take it you’re leaving?”

  “I enjoyed the evening, Angie, but I’ve got an early day and a long drive tomorrow. I need to pack and get some sleep. I’m just glad Austin is going with me, so we’ll split driving.”

  “Austin’s entered an event? I thought he quit competing.”

  “He’s not in it for the point standings. He rides when it suits him, hopefully to win some cash. He could be a top contender if he competed more consistently.”

  “I wonder if he has someone running his shop while he’s gone. His store is one of my planned stops in town tomorrow.”

  “He didn’t say when I saw him earlier. You may want to call him. Hey, thanks again for supper. I’ll touch base when I get back. I suppose it’s too much to ask you to wish me luck in my rides this weekend.”

  “Do you wear spurs when you ride?”

  “No. Neither Beau or I do.”

  “That makes me happy at least,” she said, accompanying him to the door. “Where has Luke gotten off to with your dog?” she muttered, stepping outside to peer around in the fading light.

  Duke put his thumb and forefinger to his lips and whistled. Zorro came flying around the side of the house, a red ball still clutched between his teeth. Luke pounded along behind him, hollering, “Hey, Zorro, come back with my ball!”

  Dropping to a knee, Duke gently pried the hard rubber ball out of Zorro’s mouth. “Here, son,” Duke said. “Zorro is trained to come when I whistle. He wasn’t stealing your ball.”

  “Does he gotta go? Can’t you s-stay? Didn’t we say I c-could read to you tonight?” The boy took the ball, but buried the fingers of his free hand in the fur between the big dog’s ears.

  “We did, but darn, I’m sorry but I forgot. Apparently you did, too. How about I write a note and post it to my dash, so next time I visit, I’ll remember?”

  “ ’Kay.” Luke looked dejected, and Duke hated letting him down. He slanted Angie a concerned glance.

  Understanding, she stepped off the stoop and slid both hands over Luke’s thin shoulders. “I’ll put the supper dishes to soak and listen to you read a whole book before bath time, pal. You can pick a book to set aside for Dylan’s next visit.”

  Luke nodded. “I’m gonna pick a fat one, so you’ve g-gotta stay longer.”

  Laughing, Duke ruffled the boy’s sweaty hair. “It’s a deal. Mark it on the calendar. I’ll come by next Tuesday afternoon.” Straightening, it put him eye to eye with Angie for a protracted moment, until his greater height left him bending nearer to hold on to one last memory of her smile.

  “Have a safe trip,” she said softly, eyes remaining connected to his as she pulled Luke back against her thighs.

  “Thanks.” Duke thought it was probably an unprecedented gesture on Angie’s part to wish him a safe journey, even if she couldn’t bring herself to wish him luck at the rodeo. He tugged hard on the front brim of his hat. “You guys stay safe and take care of each other,” he said seriously.

  Drawn as he was to her inviting lips, he wished for the easy confidence of Beau and Colt. If they’d been him and felt an urge to kiss Angie, he’d be walking away whistling tonight, taking along the sweet taste of her.

  He ended up thinking about kissing her all the way home. He wondered if he would’ve acted on his urge if Luke hadn’t been standing there. Plainly a guy had to be creative if he fell for a woman with kids.

  * * *

  ANGIE AND LUKE STOOD in the yard, watching until Duke’s pickup disappeared from view.

  “We like Duke a lot, don’t we, M-Mom?” The boy leaned back and twisted his face up.

  Alarm bells clanged inside Angie’s head. Luke might stutter, but he had a brain that worked overtime. Rarely did he make a comment where he included her, or linked their thoughts together that he hadn’t planned out ahead of time. If she blurted out a yes, Luke would pounce with a stateme
nt leading off with “Then we should...” Then he’d toss out an idea that would be hard to say no to.

  “I can see you like him,” she said diplomatically. “And his dog. But if you’re about to ask me to get you a German shepherd puppy, I’ll definitely have to give that a lot more thought. It’s time to go in, Luke. You pick a book while I rinse the dishes.”

  Luke skipped up the steps. “I wasn’t going to ask for a puppy. Can you ask Duke out on a d-date?”

  Angie gasped. “Lucas Daniel Barrington. Where do you get these notions?”

  She slammed the door shut and turned the two locks. With a sigh, she noticed her son wore a hangdog expression. “I’m sorry I sounded cross. It’s just...” She threw up her hands. “I thought we said we got along fine after Gramps passed away. Team Barrington, we said we’ll be.” Angie held up her hand and waited for Luke to give her a high five. He did but it was weak. “What’s really wrong, my man? What’s eating you?”

  “N-nothing. I’ll go choose a book.” He shuffled off into the other room as she’d seen other kids do when they were burdened by worries. Darn it all, Angie almost wished Dylan Adams had never burst into their lives. She knew Luke had reached an age where he keenly felt the lack of having male influence in his life. She saw how quickly, how readily, her son had set Dylan up in that role.

  And truly, in ways that counted the man was gorgeous and nice. He had one major fault. He and his family were into rodeos big-time. No matter how adamantly he swore they coddled their bucking stock, she’d rescued rodeo animals, and had witnessed mistreatment by some rodeo handlers and riders. Oh, why couldn’t Dylan Adams have been a full-time deputy? But, after the way she’d been burned by Carter, did she want to risk letting another man—rodeo cowboy or not—in her life?

  Chapter Six

  Duke pulled up outside Austin Wright’s Western Wear and Tack Shop. A small light burned at the back of the shop, but the apartment above lay in darkness. Duke tooted his horn, assuming Austin waited downstairs. Nothing. No one emerged and he didn’t see movement anywhere.

  Zorro, in the backseat of the pickup along with Duke’s duffel bag and riding gear, sat up and whined. Duke had rousted both of them earlier than usual today.

  “Austin must have overslept,” Duke told his dog. “It’ll put us behind, but I need to go get him up. Stay,” he said. He shut off the engine and climbed out as faint streaks of gold broke in the east. His long legs carried him up the side stairs two at a time. He knocked hard on the door, knowing if it was him who’d slept through his alarm it’d take an earthquake to wake him. Austin plainly was the same. Duke banged on the door a second time before his bleary-eyed friend cracked open the door. Austin’s wavy nut-brown hair gave new meaning to the term bed head. Obviously he slept with his head under the pillow.

  “Duke? Crap, crap, crap,” Austin growled in a raspy voice. “I forgot to set the danged alarm. Can you spare a minute while I pull myself together, or do you need to go? I can call and scratch from my event.”

  “I’ll wait. If you’re packed, I’ll take your bag down and stow it with mine.”

  “Uh, no. I’ll just toss some clothes in a backpack on the way out the door.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll go gas up my pickup and grab coffee at the station’s convenience store. Do you put anything in yours?”

  “No, thanks, make it strong and black. I’ll be at the curb when you get back.”

  Nodding, Duke clattered down the stairs.

  The gas station on this end of town was in the process of opening as Duke wheeled into the second row of pumps. He hoped they had coffee already brewed. He needed caffeine, and Austin sure as heck did. Jack Turnbull, a teen who worked before and after school at this station of Farley Clark’s, greeted Duke almost too cheerfully for the hour.

  “Coffee will be ready in a couple of minutes,” the boy added. “I’ll have a cup poured by the time you pump your gas.”

  Duke wiggled two fingers as he pulled out his credit card at the pump. “Make it two large cups, Jack.”

  “Two? You must have had a rough night.”

  “One’s for Austin Wright. He’s joining me on the trip to Bozeman.”

  “You guy’s both riding? I thought Austin quit the circuit.”

  Duke finished at the pump and followed Jack into the store. He paid for the coffee as Jack filled two cups. “Austin’s not a regular anymore. His business keeps him too busy.”

  “He probably hates to give up totally,” the boy said. “Hey, good luck to you both. Is your brother or any of your cousins competing?”

  “Beau’s in bulls. Colt signed up for steer wrestling, plus he’s handling stock. Colt’s looking good to win the all-around. You have a good day, okay?” Duke opened the door. “Say, you live out past Thunder Ranch, don’t you? Did you hear we had another theft? If you open this shift every morning, you must travel that road before daylight. Did you see anyone or anything suspicious or out of the ordinary that morning?”

  “Everyone’s talking about the robberies. Freaking out. Farley installed new locks at both stations, and we only do credit-card business at the pumps until ten o’clock. But that morning, I only saw Rob Parker pull onto the highway from his lane. He was loaded with baled hay. Traffic was sparse, and no one was pulling a horse trailer.”

  “Thanks. Keep your eyes peeled, will you?”

  “Sure. I probably oughta keep my mouth shut, but, ah...Farley’s been telling people Dinah’s a lousy sheriff. Gosh, I shouldn’t talk about my boss. Don’t tell him what I said.”

  “No worries, Jack. Farley’s feelings aren’t secret. But, for the record, Dinah’s covered all bases. Well, I’ve gotta run and pick Austin up before our coffee gets cold. Take care.”

  “You, too.” The boy waved as Duke left the store.

  Austin lounged against his storefront. A backpack sat at his feet, and he’d tipped his cowboy hat down over his face. Duke wondered if he was asleep standing up, because Austin didn’t budge until Duke tapped his horn. Then Austin stretched and slowly moseyed to the curb and crawled into the passenger seat. He seemed to have trouble clipping his seat belt.

  “Boy, you need coffee worse than me,” Duke said, indicating the cups sitting in holders in the center console.

  Austin grunted and mumbled something Duke didn’t catch, because Zorro woofed and tried to lick Austin’s ear.

  “Zorro, lie down and go back to sleep.” The shepherd promptly dropped out of sight.

  Duke glanced at his friend. In the morning light he looked kind of gray. He didn’t immediately reach for his coffee, either, while Duke had already downed half of his. “Did you put in a late night?” Duke asked.

  Austin shot him a frown.

  “I thought maybe you’d got in a lot of new shirts, pants, boots and stuff for the upcoming rodeo.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I’m displaying some new duds.”

  “Who’s running your shop while we’re gone?”

  “No one. It costs more to pay part-time help than it does to close for a few days.”

  “Then I really hope you place in the money. You should have asked Angie to open a few hours a day for you. She said last night she intended to drop off some of her horse treats at your shop today.”

  “Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t ask a favor of her unless I could pay for her time. And I needed to get away for a while. Is that okay? Why the third degree?” Hunched in the far corner of the seat, Austin crossed his arms and settled his hat over his
face.

  “Jeez. You don’t wanna make small talk, fine!” Duke had never noticed before that Austin wasn’t a morning person.

  By the time he hit Billings and turned onto the interstate, Duke flexed his shoulders and wished for a break. But Austin and Zorro both continued to saw logs.

  Approaching Greycliff, Duke nudged Austin. “How about stopping for a burger? Or tacos, we’re coming up on a taco stand. Then we can switch drivers.”

  Austin stirred, but barely picked up the lower edge of his hat. “Not hungry,” he mumbled. “Stop here as long as you’d like, but I’m too wiped out to drive.”

  “Are you sick? Are you going to be able to ride?”

  “I’ll be fine tomorrow. Jus’ let me sleep, please.”

  Duke didn’t answer. He climbed out and slammed the driver’s door. He opened the back to let Zorro out and slammed that door, too. Okay, so that was a tad childish. He stretched, paced a bit and let Zorro cruise the bushes. The taco stand had outdoor tables set back in the trees. Duke fastened Zorro’s leash to a table leg, and he went to order. For all the company Austin was, Duke may as well be traveling alone.

  He ordered four tacos with sour cream, and chips and salsa. His pickup bed had a full cover. Under it he’d installed an ice chest and an aluminum side-to-side toolbox. Duke unlocked the tailgate and got out Zorro’s bowls, then he grabbed them each a bottle of water. He should offer Austin water. On the other hand why disturb him again?

  Duke settled Zorro with food and the timing was good as his order came up. He’d taken one bite of his taco when his cell belted out its raucous tune. “Beau, I’m in Greycliff having lunch,” he said, not checking the caller I.D. He assumed his brother had beat him into Bozeman.

  “Dylan, it’s Angie. I won’t bother you if you’re eating.”

  “Wa—...wait,” he said, trying to swallow his mouthful of taco. “I was expecting Beau to phone me. Is everything okay? Your ranch wasn’t broken into, was it?”