Chapter Twelve
Ross hadn’t been intimidated by his older brothers since before he could walk. They’d been his protectors, his babysitters, the cool guys who’d taught him to ride horses and fight and woo ladies. He’d tried to emulate them, but also watched their mistakes and learned from them.
Carter, when he’d come along, had been uncomfortable with Grant and Adam and tried to compete with the two oldest boys for his place. Ross, the observer, had sensed Carter needed to be needed.
Ross had started asking Carter for help, seeking his advice about bullies in school, or asking for his protection, when the truth was that Ross could charm his way out of any situation. Carter had responded to Ross, becoming his older brother in truth. Carter had continued his rivalry with Adam and Grant and even the easygoing Tyler, but he’d confided in Ross many things he’d have never told the others.
Now Carter was giving him a cold stare. Ross faced two granite-hard faces and two pairs of angry eyes, Grant’s blue, Carter’s hazel.
“What’s up?” Ross asked. “I gotta get to work.”
He gave them his little-brother grin, the one that had always turned these big, mean cowboys into mush.
“Callie Jones,” Carter said, not moving.
Ross was good at not losing his temper, but anger touched him. “Yeah, that was Callie Jones. You were standing right there when I introduced her.”
“What he means is, what’s going on with you two?” Grant asked in his low rumble. “I was joking around at the barbecue, but then you left with her, I hear she was at your apartment until late last night, and now you bring her to see Jess and Tyler’s baby—”
“She gave Tyler a ride from Karen’s office,” Ross interrupted, his irritation growing. “Tyler couldn’t walk, let alone drive. I wasn’t going to tell Callie to get lost after she’d been so nice. If anything, we owe her gas money.”
“Don’t talk around the question,” Grant said. “You always do that—makes me batshit crazy.”
“What Grant means,” Carter cut over him in a slow drawl, “is that she’s not the kind of woman you have a fling with and dump. It’s all over town she’s sleeping with you now, and they’re saying it started when you picked her up on her wedding day. Gossip like that pisses me off, but you need to know.”
“Plus, if you break up with her, you’re going to be reviled all over the county,” Grant warned. “Won’t matter if she’s the one who walks out on you. The Jones sisters are princesses, high on a pedestal. Everyone likes you, Ross, but when it comes to taking sides between a Campbell and a Jones, I’m telling you, you’ll lose. If you ease back now, they won’t punish you too much.”
Ross stared at the both of them. “Let me get this straight. You think I’m planning to use Callie for fun and walk away from her? And the county will never forgive me if I do?”
Grant scowled all the more. “You get away with a lot, baby bro, but if you hurt Callie, the town will give you as much hell as they give the rest of us. Plus they’ll come down on us for letting you touch her.”
Ross ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “First of all, I think I know more about opinion in this county than y’all do—I’m out in it every day, talking to people while you’re holed up at the ranch. Second, why are so quick to think I’m not getting serious with Callie, that I’m going to dump her?”
“Because it’s what you do,” Grant pointed out. “You see a lady you like, have a fling, walk away.”
“By mutual agreement,” Ross returned in a hard voice. “Usually it’s because once she figures out what crappy hours I keep, she takes off for someone who can pay more attention to her. I’m rarely the one doing the dumping.”
Ross had learned, painfully, that women wanted the danger and romance of dating a cop but not the tedious reality. After he stood them up a time or two because he had to break up a fight or write an endless report or sit through one of Hennessy’s mandatory meetings, they said good-bye. He’d taught himself to keep things casual, which decreased the disappointment when the brief relationship ended.
He’d looked at Callie today across the table in the cafeteria, and knew it had already gone far beyond casual, at least on his side. When she walked away, the crush of it would take a long, long time to fade.
“Do me a favor,” Ross said in clipped tones. “Don’t talk about me and Callie. You have no idea what’s between us, and to be blunt, it’s none of your business. Now I have something to tell you—I’m thinking about running for sheriff. Think you can back off me once I can send your asses to jail?”
Grant blinked, and now Carter frowned. Carter had never had the best relationship with law enforcement, though he’d come to terms with Ross being a deputy, understanding that Ross wanted to help people, not constrict them.
“You can already send us to jail,” Grant pointed out. “You’d run against Hennessy? Are you nuts? He has every election tied up.”
“I wasn’t saying I’d win,” Ross said. “But Hennessy needs to be shaken up a little. People are tired of him. I could at least make him work to get votes instead of assume he’s cinched it. Might make him clean up his act.”
“He’ll fire your ass,” Carter warned. “Win or lose.”
Ross shrugged. “Maybe. But he shouldn’t get away with anything he wants because no one’s brave enough to stand up to him.”
“You’d have to move out of the county, maybe even the state,” Grant said, the lightness in his voice forced. “That would be a shame. We’d miss you.”
“You keep telling me the town loves me, or at least they will unless I dump Callie,” Ross said, ideas beginning to coalesce.
“Partly because her dad owns half the county,” Grant said. “Money talks.”
“Exactly. Callie’s dad has nothing good to say about Sheriff Hennessy. If I can convince him to support me—the town might just pick the Joneses and the Campbells.”
While Carter looked thoughtful, Grant’s face darkened. “You better not be thinking about using Callie to make yourself sheriff. I’d have to kick your ass.”
Ross gave him an outraged look. “I’ll kick your ass for thinking I’d do that. I’ll leave my relationship with Callie totally out of it—you just made me remember how much her dad doesn’t like Hennessy. Anyway, me running for sheriff was her idea. It had been in the back of my mind, but she’s the first person who said it out loud.”
And when Callie voiced it, Ross believed.
Carter’s thoughtfulness turned to sharp scrutiny, then he gave Ross a slow nod of understanding.
“If you decide to run, I’m there for you,” Carter said. “Let me know what I can do.”
Grant started to laugh. “Damn, bro, you have balls. I’d love to see Hennessy taken down a peg, so I’m with you too.” He clapped Ross on the shoulder. “How awesome is that? Our little brother’s going to be sheriff of River County.”
* * *
Karen agreed to reschedule Callie’s appointment, saying she could be bribed with pictures of Jess and Tyler’s baby. Callie hadn’t taken photos herself, so she texted Olivia, who sent her a deluge. The best one was of Tyler and Jess with heads bent over Sarah, Dominic on tiptoe to look at his sister.
Result—Callie’s appointment was at three the next afternoon.
That morning, Callie and Ross met for breakfast as arranged, at the diner, of course. Callie could tell he was tired after his all-night shift, his eyes red-rimmed, but he ate a hearty breakfast and talked animatedly. Admittedly, he drank lots of coffee.
Callie hoped he’d suggest she walk him home, but Ross, after holding a shaking hand over his coffee cup to prevent a refill, said, “I have to be back at work at noon. Just enough time to shower and crash for a few hours.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a crazy schedule.”
He shrugged, his weariness evident. “It is what it is. There’s only four deputies, so we rotate a lot. A shorter shift today, though. Off at seven.”
Callie co
uld tell he was holding back yawns, so she said she’d talk to him later, pretending she wouldn’t miss him all day.
Ross left without kissing her in front of the interested patrons, but he did give her hand a hard squeeze under the table before he went. He exchanged greetings with his friends and acquaintances on his way out, never mind matter how tired he was. Everyone liked Ross.
He’d also paid for her breakfast, Callie discovered when she went to the register. Mrs. Ward offered no opinion about it, but she didn’t hide the twinkle in her eyes.
Callie went home, put on jeans and boots and headed for Anna Lawler’s place.
Dr. Anna, as everyone called her, had moved back to Riverbend from San Angelo a year ago. She’d grown up in Riverbend but left to go to vet school and then had been taken on by a large-animal vet in San Angelo. When the veterinarian in Riverbend retired, Anna had jumped at the chance to move home and take over the practice.
Callie had been friends with Anna growing up, and was delighted to see her back.
Anna had been the shy girl, bookish and awkward, preferring to read or be with horses and dogs instead of people. Callie, who’d been secretly shy but had learned to hide it, had bonded with her. The socialite and the bookworm had formed an unusual friendship.
Now Anna, just under five feet tall, her blond hair worn in a tight braid, her eyes cornflower blue, had to fight a battle of a different kind—to convince the ranchers, farmers, and cowboys of River County that she could treat their animals just fine.
She did it by never raising her voice, but she also never backed down. Callie had watched her one day at the Jones ranch, when the cowboys hadn’t wanted to let her vaccinate part of the herd, saying no lady could handle the unruly cattle.
Anna had calmly handed the biggest, toughest ranch hand a syringe and said, “Go ahead. Grab that bull and jab him.”
The bull in question, kept for breeding purposes, had already been put into a pen, but he’d been steaming mad about it. He’d torn around the small corral, slamming his horned head into its wooden poles. The fencing groaned and bent whenever he hit it.
The cowboy had paled and hung back.
Anna had climbed the fence, caught the bull and bent his head down, poked the needle into the fleshy folds in his neck, patted him, and opened the gate to let him out into the pasture.
The Jones cowboys hadn’t given her any shit after that.
Today Anna was finishing up a shoeing job—she also assisted the farrier when there was a lot of work.
She gave the shoe a few more taps with her hammer, released the strap that held the horse’s foot, and stroked the horse’s side, telling him he’d been a good boy.
“What’s up, Callie?” she asked, leaving the horse to be led back to its trailer. “I heard Tyler Campbell’s wife had a baby. I bet that gobsmacked him.”
She laughed, her eyes lighting. Anna had been one of the few young women not interested in the Campbells in school. Too full of themselves, she’d said.
“I came to beg you to come with me to my appointment at AGCT,” Callie said. “If Ms. Scary Businesswoman Marvin can see I have a competent vet on board, she might give us that big grant we need.”
“Sure, I’ll come, but I think you’re worrying too much.” Anna clattered her metal rasps into her case and closed up her portable forge. “You have Ross Campbell eating out of your hand, and he’s the brother of A, G, C, and T.”
Callie’s face flushed hotter than it had a right to. “First of all, he’s not eating out of my hand. Second, it wouldn’t matter if he were. Karen’s not stupid—she’s going to assess whether our idea is viable or we’re dreaming.”
“Okay, but I think the Campbells will love to say they’re handing out money to the Joneses.”
“And I don’t want this thing to go because I’m a Jones,” Callie said in frustration.
“Why not?” Anna blinked at Callie in her frank way. Her timidity when she was younger had hidden a shrewd mind. Somewhere along the way—probably in vet school and then fighting to prove she could succeed—she’d lost much of her reticence. “Use every asset you have. The important thing is rescuing and taking care of the horses, right?”
“Damn it.” Callie growled. “I hate it when you talk sense to me.”
“No, you don’t.” Anna’s grin flashed, then cut off as a pickup pulling a horse trailer came down the lane into the wide dirt lot. “Shit. What does he want?”
He turned out to be Kyle Malory. He parked and hopped out of the truck, his affable look fading when he saw Anna.
Kyle’s older brother, Ray, stepped down from the passenger side, but Anna didn’t appear to notice him.
“Checking up on me?” Anna asked Kyle, planting her hands on her hips. “I told you, I’m keeping an eye on her for a couple more days to make sure everything’s fine.”
Kyle flushed a dull red. “I didn’t come to take her back. Just to look in on her.”
Anne flung a gesture at the trailer. “Yeah? Then why the transportation?”
“We dropped off a couple of horses at the rodeo grounds. You were on the way back.”
Now Anna went bright red. She opened and closed her mouth, then said a subdued, “Yeah, well. Maybe.”
Ray came to stand next to Callie. He was a broad-bodied man, compact but strong. He and Kyle were bull riders, and they trained cutting horses in the off season. Everyone in town, including Callie’s dad, sent their cutters to the Malorys.
Kyle and Ray had dark hair and green eyes, and the Riverbend females who didn’t swoon over the Campbells swooned over them. Of course, many women were happy to gaze upon both—they weren’t picky.
“One of our horses is preggers,” Ray said quietly to Callie. “She was having some trouble, and Anna wants to make sure both mare and foal stay healthy before she sends them back home. Kyle worries like an old man.”
Callie watched Anna and Kyle face each other, both flushed, hands on hips, each trying to figure out what to say.
“I think it was an excuse to come over,” Callie whispered to Ray.
Ray huffed a laugh. “I think you’re right.”
Callie and Ray exchanged a quick glance of amusement. Callie wondered if she was that obvious when she was around Ross. Probably.
“Kyle,” Ray called. “Say good-bye. We haven’t got all day.” He winked at Callie and settled his hat. “Nice to see you, Callie. You staying in Riverbend now?”
“Hope so,” Callie said. “I feel kind of lame living in my parents’ house. I might look for a place of my own.”
“We live in our parents’ house,” Ray pointed out. “It’s not such a bad thing.”
Kyle and Ray owned and ran the Malory ranch now that their father had passed and their mother had remarried and moved with her new husband to Austin.
“True,” Callie agreed. It wasn’t so bad being home.
Ray tipped his hat to her and walked away, calling again to Kyle.
Kyle finally stalked to the truck and got in. He waited for Ray to settle himself in the passenger seat, then Kyle backed the trailer with a competence of long experience, and turned onto the road. Ray raised a hand in farewell through the open window.
“He drives me crazy!” Anna shouted.
She rarely yelled—she told people what to do in a firm, quiet voice. Men twice her size said a quick, “Yes, ma’am,” when Anna talked.
Anna waved fists in the air. “He knows damn well I can take care of that mare. He just wants to be a pain in my ass.”
Callie calmly watched Anna’s face go through every shade of red and then resolve into a blotchy paleness.
“Mmm-hmm,” Callie said, keeping her grin to herself. “So, can I pick you up for the appointment, or will you meet me there?”
* * *
Callie credited Anna’s presence for the fact that Karen brought out the paperwork to start the grant process at that afternoon’s meeting.
Or maybe it was the baby pictures Callie had sent Karen, or t
he fact that she’d driven Tyler to be at his wife’s bedside before she gave birth.
Probably all those factors together, Callie decided. She hugged Anna after the meeting, the two high-fiving in the reception area in front of a brand new arrangement of flowers.
Anna had her rounds to finish, so Callie called Nicole from her car to tell her the good news. It would take time and work, but they might have the rehab ranch up and running soon.
She also texted Ross—We got it! He didn’t reply for a time, but then, he’d be at work by now.
Knew you would, he responded as she was pulling around the drive at home. Want to grab dinner?
Sure. Meet you at the diner?
It’s a date.
Callie stared at the last line for a long time. Had he been off-the-cuff responding or did he really mean a date?
And why was she beating herself up like this? She liked Ross and they were meeting for dinner. That was all. She would go and enjoy it.
It was only four, and Ross had said he didn’t leave work until seven that day, so Callie put on riding clothes and walked out of the house in breeches and knee boots.
Manny rose from where he’d been sitting behind a porch post.
Callie shrieked, then pressed her hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “Shit, Manny. Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” Manny said cheerfully. “Thought you saw me.”
He’d been back to help out the stable hands with chores a few times since his lawn-mowing incident, but she hadn’t expected him today.
“I’d fix you some tea, but I’m going riding,” she said. “Need to keep in practice.”
“That’s okay. I came to talk to you.”
“Sure thing. What do you need?”
Callie started for the stables, and Manny loped sideways next to her.
“It’s about Ross. I’m worried.”
Manny’s voice held a note Callie didn’t like. She halted abruptly. “Why?”
“He’s running for sheriff, right?”
Ross: Riding Hard, Book 5 Page 12
