Cowboy Defender

by Carla Cassidy

  “Evening, Clay,” Bonnie Abrahams said from their left as they walked toward Mary and Halena’s booth. Bonnie toyed with a strand of her long, bleached hair and batted her false eyelashes. “Miranda,” she added with another flip of her hair.

  “Hi, Bonnie,” Clay replied with his easy smile. “Did you ever get that old car up and running?”

  “Larry down at the garage fixed me up and it’s now purring like a kitten,” Bonnie said.

  Clay turned to Miranda. “Bonnie has a sweet 1969 Mustang convertible. I tried to help get it running for her.” He grinned ruefully. “I can easily rope a cow, but I’m sure no mechanic.”

  “Still, you know I really appreciated you trying to help me out,” Bonnie replied.

  As they continued on their way to Mary and Halena’s booth, Clay was greeted by more women. “Is there any female in this town you don’t know?” Miranda finally asked.

  Clay laughed. “I’m sure there are a few. What can I say? I spend a lot of time in town when I’m not working on the ranch. I hang out at the café or at the Watering Hole and so I meet a lot of people. And I’m sure I know as many men as I do women.” He flashed his charming smile. “I’m a friendly kind of guy.”

  Thankfully, by that time they had reached Mary and Halena’s booth. The kids ran toward Miranda’s mother, who embraced them both in a group hug.

  Mary looked first at Miranda and then at Clay, her beautiful features radiating more than a touch of surprise. Clay greeted her with a hug and then approached Halena and hugged her, as well.

  “And aren’t you two a surprise,” Halena said. “Clay, you’d better treat her right. She’s a good woman.” Halena reached up and straightened her hat, a creation of pink and red silk flowers with a miniature Ferris wheel among the blooms. The Choctaw woman was known for her outlandish hats, among other things.

  “Oh, it isn’t like that,” Miranda said hurriedly. “Clay has been helping Henry with baseball and he really wanted Clay to come with us tonight, but Clay and I...we aren’t together. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Hmm, too bad. You make a good-looking couple,” Halena replied. “I’m still waiting for the man who will make me part of a good-looking couple. But you two really should be a couple.” She turned on her moccasins and began to straighten a rack full of colorful clothing.

  “How’s business?” Miranda asked Mary, eager for a change of topic.

  “As you can see, it’s a little slow right now, but tomorrow will be our big day,” she replied. “Still, it should pick up some in the next couple of hours or so.”

  “We’d better sell a lot because I need some new hats,” Halena said.

  Mary rolled her eyes. “My grandmother needs a new hat like I need a pet pig.”

  “Can we get a pet pig, Mom?” Henry asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Miranda replied.

  “Can we get a dog?” he asked.

  Miranda shook her head. “Not right now.”

  “Then can we go get some hot dogs? I’m starving.”

  She laughed. “That we can do.”

  They said their goodbyes to Mary, Halena and Miranda’s mother, and then they headed for the closest place to get something to eat.

  The crowd had grown while they’d been visiting. They were almost to the hot dog booth when they ran into Hank and Lori. “Daddy!” The kids greeted him by running to him and hugging him.

  “What have we here?” Hank asked as his gaze shot from Miranda to Clay. Miranda could tell he’d been drinking, not only by the bleary look in his eyes but also by the gruff belligerence in his voice. “I warned you about this cowboy, Miranda. What in the hell are you doing here with him?”

  “Hank, whatever issues you have with me...now is not the time,” Clay replied calmly. He looked pointedly at the two kids, who had crept closer to Miranda’s side.

  Lori grabbed Hank’s arm. “Come on, Hank. You promised me a ride on the Ferris wheel. Let’s go take that ride.”

  Hank grumbled beneath his breath and glared at them one more time, and then thankfully Lori managed to pull him away.

  “Come on, kids. Let’s go get some hot dogs,” Clay said, breaking the tension with his easy grin.

  Miranda smiled at him, grateful that he hadn’t gone all macho and added to what could have been a difficult situation with Hank. Within minutes Hank was forgotten as they all sat at a picnic table with juicy hot dogs and crispy french fries before them.

  “So, what are we going to ride first?” Clay asked as they were finishing up the meal.

  “The octopus,” Jenny said.

  “The carousel,” Henry replied.

  “And what would you like to ride?” Clay asked Miranda.

  “I’m kind of like my son...nothing too fast or too scary. I think it would be fun for all of us to ride the bumper cars,” she replied.

  His eyes lit up. “What do you say, kids? How about we all bump your mother?”

  “Yes,” Henry replied and fist-pumped in the air.

  “Don’t worry, Mommy. I’m on your side and I’m going to bump Mr. Clay really hard,” Jenny said.

  Challenges were thrown down amid laughter and that seemed to set the mood for fun. For the next hour they enjoyed a variety of rides and then took a break for funnel cake.

  “I love funnel cake,” Henry said with the lower half of his face covered in powdered sugar. “I think it’s my favorite dessert in the whole world. What’s your favorite dessert, Mr. Clay?”

  “I like mud pies,” he replied, making them all laugh.

  “I like to make mud pies,” Jenny said, and then giggled. “But I don’t ever eat them.”

  “Thank goodness,” Miranda said with a laugh.

  After the sweet treat it was time for them to ride the carousel. Henry chose a white horse with a lei of blue flowers around its neck and Clay climbed on the brown one next to him. Miranda and Jenny took the horses right behind them.

  As the music began and the carousel started to move, Miranda was surprised to realize she was having fun...she was having lots of fun with Clay. He was a charming tease and made her and the kids laugh. Although any real conversation was tough with the music and the noise of the crowd, what they had shared had been so natural and easy.

  It was strange; she didn’t believe he was consciously seducing her and yet she somehow felt seduced. She watched now as he leaned over his horse, as if pretending to spur it to run faster. Henry laughed in delight and also leaned over his horse.

  That was part of his seduction, that he was so good with the kids. His enjoyment of them appeared to be one hundred percent genuine and it was obvious they adored him.

  His beautiful eyes often lit with laughter and he had one of those smiles that made it almost impossible not to smile back.

  She was appalled to recognize that she was even more sexually attracted to him than she had been. Of course, it had been almost two years since she’d been with a man. She’d stopped having sex with Hank almost a year before they had divorced.

  Clay was a very sexy, handsome cowboy. Why wouldn’t she be sexually attracted to him? That certainly didn’t mean she was going to act on that attraction.

  “How about we go see if Henry and I can win a couple of stuffed animals for the ladies?” Clay asked as they got off the carousel.

  “That sounds like fun!” Henry replied. “Can we, Mom?”

  Her intention had been to skip the games of chance, but she wound up capitulating to the majority. They had just about made it to those particular booths when three familiar teenagers bumped into them.

  Jason Rogers, Robby Davies, and Glen Thompson were all seniors. They were big guys with a penchant for bullying younger and smaller kids at the school.

  “Hey, chill out,” Clay said as they all shoulder-bumped, jostling Jason into Henry.

  “Well, if it
isn’t strait-laced Silver,” Robby said. His friends laughed as if he’d said something amazingly funny.

  Miranda’s cheeks burned with a touch of embarrassment. She’d known that some of the boys at school called her that behind her back, but this was the first time it had been said to her face.

  “Wise guy, it might not be so smart to bad-talk a teacher during finals,” Clay said.

  “Ha, the joke is on you, you dumb cowboy. I’m not in any of her classes,” Robby replied, his tone filled with an utter disrespect that surprised her.

  “Come on, Robby,” Jason said, as if sensing the tension that was suddenly in the air and wafting off Clay.

  “Yeah, man, let’s go. I’m starving,” Glen added.

  “Do I smell beer on your breaths?” Miranda asked. She was sure she smelled booze.

  “Underage drinking is a serious offense,” Clay added. “Maybe we all need to go find Chief Bowie.”

  “Let’s go,” Glen said. “I don’t want to get in any trouble. My dad would kill me.”

  “I suggest you all move on,” Clay replied. His voice held a hard edge. “But before you go, I believe you owe Ms. Silver an apology.”

  Robby’s eyes held a hint of anger. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a surly snarl.

  “And Robby, a word of advice...be careful who you call a dumb cowboy in this town. One of those dumb cowboys just might wind up giving you a butt-whipping you’ll never forget.”

  Clay held Robby’s gaze until finally Robby looked away. “Come on, guys. We’ve got more important things to do than waste our time here,” he said.

  “What a piece of work,” Clay said as the three disappeared into the crowd.

  “I think they all were booze-brave. I’ve never seen Robby be so disrespectful.”

  “Let’s just forget about them.” Clay threw his arm around her shoulders and looked at the kids. “Come on, let’s go win some stuffed animals.”

  She told herself she should step away from him and dislodge his arm from around her. But the night was cool and his arm was so very warm—and there was nothing even vaguely sexual about it.

  In any case, he was the one who withdrew his arm when they reached the first booth. You had to shoot water into a target to fill a balloon, and he insisted they all play.

  Their competitive sides were definitely on display as they hooted and hollered in an effort to distract each other. In the end Clay won and his prize was a flashy plastic bracelet that he gave to Jenny.

  “That was just for a warm-up,” he said and gestured toward the next booth where stuffed animals hung from hooks overhead. Poodles and tigers, baby elephants and bears all challenged them to take one home.

  By the time the night was over, both Jenny and Henry held stuffed bears in their arms. Miranda’s stomach hurt from laughing so much. Her belly was full of carnival food and even though she didn’t really know Clay any better than she had before, she felt a strange kind of closeness to him...a connection forged in laughter and fun.

  And they’d had fun. She’d enjoyed his company and that was why she didn’t want to put herself in this kind of position again with him. He could finish up helping Henry with baseball, but that was it.

  Once again, as they headed down the midway in the direction of the parking area in the distance, they were elbowed and bumped by the crowd. The carnival’s illumination made everything a beautiful color against the darkness of the night.

  They paused to turn back and admire the many colored lights that outlined the Ferris wheel rising up in the dark sky and every other ride along the midway. The kids oohed and aahed over the lights, but she could tell both of them were getting tired. It had been a long evening for them.

  They turned back to continue their trek to the car. A hard push moved Miranda sideways and at the same time something splashed all over the front of her sweater. Darn, somebody had spilled a drink on her. She stared down at the front of her sweater as a noxious odor filled the air.

  “What the hell?” Clay shouted. He stared at her for a moment and then grabbed her sweater by one side and ripped it off her. He tossed it to the ground. “Did it get on your blouse? On your skin?” he asked urgently.

  “N...no.” She stared at him, her head spinning with what had just happened. “What is it? It smells like rotten eggs.”

  “It’s sulfuric acid.”

  “S...sulfuric...” Her voice trailed away as stunned shock swept through her. She stared at Clay and then looked down at her sweater. The acid had already begun eating away at the cotton threads.

  Her knees weakened and the crowd around them blurred. Acid. As she thought about what would have happened if the liquid had hit her face, a chill she had never felt before iced her entire body.

  Clay pulled her close to his side, along with the two children who obviously knew something was horribly wrong. She leaned into him, desperately needing his warmth, his strong support.

  “We need to call Dillon,” he said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Sh...should we pick up the sweater?” she asked, her teeth chattering in her head.

  “No. Don’t touch it,” Clay replied and then he connected with Dillon. He told the chief of police what had happened and where they were located and then hung up.

  “He should be here in just a few minutes.”

  He tightened his arm around her, as if knowing she needed his strength, his body heat to pull her back from complete hysteria.

  It had to be some sort of a horrid mistake. If it wasn’t, then that meant somebody had just tried to hurt her, to disfigure her with acid.

  Chapter 4

  Dillon arrived on the scene and placed the sweater in an evidence bag. Miranda called her mother to come get the children and take them home with her for the night, and Clay and Miranda were now in his truck following Dillon’s police car to the station to fill out a report.

  Dillon had questioned a lot of people at the fairgrounds as Clay remained with his arm around Miranda. She had trembled like a frightened dog in a thunderstorm despite his arm around her.

  He still couldn’t believe this had happened. What kind of a damned fool did something like this? He was still in a state of stunned horror.

  He now looked over at Miranda. In the dashboard illumination she was pale as a ghost. Her slender fingers nervously twined and untwined in her lap. He had his heater turned on as the night had grown cool and she was without her sweater, but she continued to shiver as if she couldn’t get warm...as if she’d never be warm again.

  “How are you doing?” he asked gently.

  She released a tremulous sigh. “I’m not sure. I’m still in a state of shock. What I’m trying to figure out is why anybody would have something like that at a carnival?”

  Clay clenched the steering wheel a little bit tighter. “I can’t imagine why anyone would ever have sulfuric acid anywhere but in a battery. It’s not exactly the kind of stuff you just put in a cup and walk around with.”

  “It had to have been in some kind of an open container. Did you see anyone holding anything strange?” Her voice held a slight tremor.

  “To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention to the people around us. I was just trying to get through the crowd with all of us together. I’m sorry.”

  She released a small, humorless laugh. “No need to apologize. Who knew we had to be on the lookout for a crazy acid thrower?”

  She shivered once again and Clay reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Dillon will be able to figure it all out,” he said with more conviction than he felt. “At least it didn’t splash on your skin.”

  “No, but it ate my favorite white sweater.”

  He squeezed her hand and then released it as he turned into a parking place in front of the
Bitterroot Police Department. Dillon had disappeared around the corner to park in the back of the building.

  “Look at it this way, you can always get another white sweater, but you can’t get another pretty face,” he replied.

  He turned off the engine and together they got out of the truck and went through the front door where dispatcher Annie O’Brian greeted them in obvious surprise.

  Before they could speak, the door behind Annie’s desk opened and Dillon gestured for them to follow him down a hallway. Dillon’s private office was Spartan. No interesting pictures on the walls, no official-looking framed documents announcing Dillon’s awesomeness. There was just a large desk holding a computer and a framed picture of Cassie. A leather chair was behind the desk with two straight-backed chairs facing it.

  Dillon sat at the desk, and Clay and Miranda took the other chairs. As Clay eased down, the tension that had twisted in his guts finally eased a bit. However, it didn’t go away altogether. If that acid had hit anywhere else on Miranda it could have caused real harm to her.

  “So, tell me again exactly what happened,” Dillon said to Miranda. As she told him about being shoved aside and then the liquid being splashed on her, Clay’s stomach muscles twisted tight once again.

  Had she been pushed aside intentionally in an effort to isolate her from Clay and the children so the acid would only hit her? The thought of the attack being that personal chilled him to the bone.

  For him, the evening had only confirmed that he wanted to know more about her and spend more time with her. Being at the carnival with her and her children had made for one of the very best nights of his life...until the end.

  He believed tonight he’d seen the real Miranda, with a warm sparkle in her eyes and ready laughter on her lips. But at the moment he was frightened for her.

  “And neither of you saw who threw it?” Dillon asked.

  “Not me,” Clay replied with deep regret.

  “I have no idea who threw it on me,” Miranda replied. “There were so many people.”

  “Do you know of any reason anyone would want to do something like this to you?” Dillon asked.