Texas Lawman
Page 1
“That Jodie’s a pretty little thing—you noticed?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Books by Ginger Chambers
Title Page
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Copyright
“That Jodie’s a pretty little thing—you noticed?”
“I’d have to be blind not to notice,” Tate said.
“Red hair, those eyes... Like you say, hard not to notice. You goin’ to ask her out?”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because—Well, when would I have time?”
“I always found time for Maureen.”
“You’d been married for ten years before you became, sheriff. It’s not the same thing as—” Tate stopped.
“Courtin’?” Jack teased. “Seems you’ve been givin’ this a bit of thought.” Then he laughed. “Courtin’ I always did like that word. Sounds so much nicer than what kids call it today.”
“Kids today don’t court,” Tate said.
“How about grown men like you?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ginger Chambers says that from her earliest days she’s always loved cowboys—the way they look, the job they do and the way they feel about the land. In particular, she loves Texas cowboys.
That’s because her family roots run deep in Texas. Her great-grandfather raised cattle and drove them on the Chisholm Traill
This is Ginger’s third story about the Parker Ranch in West Texas. Watch for upcoming books!
Books by Ginger Chambers
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601—TILL SEPTEMBER
647—FATHER TAKES A WIFE
680—A MATCH MADE IN TEXAS
730—WEST TEXAS WEDDINGS
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TEXAS LAWMAN
Ginger Chambers
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN
MADRID • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
For Bella
Good does triumph over evil.
Sometimes it just takes a helluva long time.
CHAPTER ONE
THE BUTTERFLIES in Jodie’s stomach increased as, mile by mile, she drew closer to the ranch. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d been on her own for all these years—five at the university and the last traveling in Europe. The instant she saw her great-aunt all the hard-won poise and confidence she’d acquired over that time would evaporate and she’d turn into the uncertain young girl she used to be.
Her great-aunt had that effect on people. The pure force of the woman’s will invariably rode roughshod over independent thought. As the oldest living Parker, Mae was due respect and deference—and she never let anyone forget it!
Jodie’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel and her foot pressed harder on the accelerator. What she wanted most at this moment was to get their first meeting over with. Mae hadn’t liked it one bit that after graduation she’d turned down the job arranged for her and gone, instead, with friends to Italy. Nor when, after six months in Italy, she’d moved on to explore other areas of the continent, absenting herself from the ranch for an additional six months. It was the longest uninterrupted period Jodie had ever spent away from her birthplace, the Parker Ranch, an almost living entity in the minds and hearts of the people who resided there.
She could just imagine the upcoming scene. Her great-aunt, her father, her cousins and their wives—Rafe and Shannon, LeRoy and Harriet—Aunt Darlene and Uncle Thomas, not to mention the growing menagerie of Parker children. All would gather at Mae’s house to welcome her, even though they’d be surprised by her premature arrival. Originally she’d planned to spend the afternoon and night at a friend’s house in San Antonio before setting off for Briggs County in West Texas the next morning. But restlessness had taken hold, so she’d rented a car and come ahead.
Jodie didn’t want a fuss made. Particularly not while waiting for her great-aunt’s inevitable show of displeasure. But seeing everyone again would be nice. She’d missed them in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
Suddenly lights filled the night. Bright flashes of blue, white, red...blue, white, red. Their brilliance bounced off her rearview mirrors as a siren emitted an abbreviated wail.
A police car! Jodie immediately lifted her foot from the accelerator and looked for a place to pull over. As both cars rolled to a stop, the lights continued to dance, illuminating the lonely rugged landscape on each side of the road.
She cut the engine and waited. Just what she needed—a citation for speeding. How fast had she been going?
After what seemed an eternity—she was just about to get out to see what was taking so long—an even brighter light switched on from behind, spotlighting the distance between the two cars.
Jodie twisted to look over her shoulder and, narrowing her gaze against the glare, saw an officer step out of the patrol car and approach. He was long and lean and, judging by the style of his hat and uniform, a member of the Briggs County Sheriffs Department.
He didn’t stop until he was at her window, then shined his flashlight in her face.
“Don’t do that!” Jodie complained.
The light remained on her for another moment, before darting off to illuminate the passenger and rear compartments. At last it was switched off.
“You in a hurry to get someplace?” the officer drawled.
Jodie’s heart gave a surprised little leap. Tate Connelly! What were the odds that he of all people would be the first person she’d meet upon returning home? “I was...yes,” she managed.
“You could get yourself killed driving that fast out here at night. You had to be outrunnin’ your headlights.”
“I could see just fine,” Jodie claimed. Didn’t he recognize her? It hadn’t been that long since they’d seen each other. Two years at most, surely. During one of her brief visits home from the university.
“Mind tellin’ me what your business is?” Tate inquired, coolly courteous. “I mean, since you were in such a hurry, maybe I can be of assistance.”
Jodie began to see the humor in the situation. For once she had him at a disadvantage. She wondered how long she could string him along. “I doubt it!” she replied.
His tone took on a more official edge. “I need to see your license, ma’am, and your rental agreement. This is a rental car—I ran the tags. Briggs County is a long way from San Antonio.”
“Since when is it against the law to rent a car?” Jodie challenged. She made no move to retrieve any of the requested paperwork.
“Your license, ma’am,” he repeated.
“I’d rather not.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Then I’ll have to ask you to step outside.”
“You’re arresting me?” Jodie squeaked.
“Out of the car.”
Jodie opened the door and stepped onto the gravel roadside.
“Don’t do that!” he barked when she insti
nctively reached back inside to retrieve her purse. “Keep your hands where I can see ’em.”
“But I just wanted to get—”
“Step to the side, face the car and put your hands on the roof. Now!” he ordered when she hesitated.
Jodie blinked as she did what he said. Her little joke had gone about as far as she should let it. Before she could speak, though, he reached into the car himself.
“This yours?” he asked, straightening. The strap of her black leather shoulder bag hung from his fingertips. “You don’t mind if I have a look inside, do you? You carryin’ any drugs? Any drug paraphernalia? Any weapons?”
Jodie had had enough. “Tate!” she exclaimed.
His fingers froze on the partially open zipper.
In the radiance of the spotlight she could see most of his handsome face. The cleanly carved line of jaw and cheekbone, the firm set of his mouth, the brown eyes and close-cropped brown hair that peeked out from beneath his flat-brimmed hat. At one time, when she was going into seventh grade and he had just graduated from high school, his features had been as familiar to her as her own. And far more interesting.
“How do you know my name?” he demanded, frowning.
“Don’t you recognize me? Some great policeman you are! I’m Jodie—Jodie Parker! Now may I please put my hands down?” She didn’t wait for permission.
He examined her through narrowed eyes, before nodding and saying slowly, “I should’ve known it was you, drivin’ like a bat out of hell.”
She snatched her purse away. “It’s late and I want to get home.” She motioned impatiently to the flashing lights on his patrol car. “Do you think you could turn that off? It’s giving me a headache.”
He ignored her complaint. “Last I heard you were in Paris.”
“That was two months ago.”
“Then London.”
“One month ago.”
“Then New York.”
“Last week.” She cocked her head. “You’ve certainly kept up with my whereabouts.”
“Couldn’t help it. Your trip was a prime subject of conversation around here.”
“I’m glad I provided such grand entertainment,” she said dryly.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What did you do to your hair?”
Jodie smoothed her new sleek style. In the confusion of being pulled over she’d forgotten the radical change. “I had it cut. What do you think?”
“I didn’t recognize you.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I liked it long and curly better—and the natural color.”
“This is called ‘midnight black’.”
Tate Connelly shook his head. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you. Does your aunt Mae know about it?”
Jodie shrugged. “I’m twenty-four now, Tate. Whether my aunt approves or not makes no difference.”
For the first time since he’d pulled her over, a smile tugged at his lips. “You say that now...out here.”
Jodie pushed past him to get back into her car. “May I go? Now that you know I’m not an escaped felon? Honestly, the way you behaved you’d’ve thought I had a gun and was about to...” The words died on her lips. Tate’s father, a deputy sheriff, had been shot and killed by a pair of escaped felons he’d pulled over because their car had a faulty brake light. “Oh, Tate, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He cut her off. “I’ll follow you to the ranch. We don’t want you to get lost or anything.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m already almost there, Tate.”
“Just the same,” he returned stubbornly, “it’s either that or a ticket for speeding.”
“Everybody speeds out here!”
“Not in front of me, they don’t. Not for long, anyway.”
Jodie slammed the door shut. Obstinate, objectionable, opinionated beast! She didn’t want to be escorted home like a delinquent runaway! Her aunt was already disgruntled enough.
As Tate returned to his patrol car, Jodie took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. As she’d claimed only moments before—and it was something she needed to remember—she was twenty-four years old! A fully adult woman who had no need to apologize to anyone about anything.
The light bar on top of the patrol car switched off, as did the spotlight. Tate started the engine and waited. For a fleeting second Jodie wondered what he’d do if she refused to budge, then she reached for the key and twisted it. Within seconds both cars were back on the highway.
True to his word Tate trailed her closely. Jodie, highly conscious of his presence, kept to an unwavering fifty-five, under the legal limit for highway travel at night in Texas.
As before, their cars were the only vehicles on the road. It was past ten o’clock on a weekday night and most of the people who worked the surrounding ranches had called it quits for the day. From Jodie’s knowledge of the Parker Ranch, though, her relatives would still be up. But not for long.
Her foot itched to press harder on the accelerator, she restrained the urge. They would get there when they got there, and there wasn’t anything she could do to change it.
When they finally arrived at ranch headquarters, Jodie was relieved to see lights still on in four of the five houses rimming the drive. Without thinking she drove past her father’s house and pulled to a stop in front of Mae’s larger two-story structure—a telltale sign as to who had the most influence in her life. When she realized what she’d done, she ground her teeth, because Tate Connelly wouldn’t miss the significance.
Her cousin Rafe—his house was the nearest Mae’s on the right—was the first to step outside. As manager of the ranch, he had both the authority and the force of personality to challenge any intruder. Shannon, his wife, waited in the doorway, her robe drawn tightly about her slender frame. Farther back along the drive Jodie saw her father appear on his porch, while directly across the tree-dotted courtyard her cousin LeRoy had left his house and was coming toward them.
Jodie took a deep breath. She was home.
Tate Connelly eased himself from the patrol car in time to receive Rafe’s greeting. “What’s all this? Somethin’ goin’ on I should know about?”
“Yeah,” LeRoy chimed in. “It’s not every day the sheriff pays a visit. Fact is, I don’t remember it ever happenin’ this late at night before!”
Jodie felt the sweep of Rafe’s dark gaze as she exited her car, but she sensed no spark of recognition. He didn’t know her, either!
“Just a little delivery I thought I’d help make,” Tate said amicably.
Mae’s front door opened. “What in tarnation’s goin’ on here?” she demanded irritably, giving the sash of her robe a sharp tug as she stepped onto the porch. “What couldn’t wait until morning? Rafe, what is it?”
“I don’t know, Aunt Mae. I was just askin’ Tate that.”
“Tate Connelly?” She moved closer to the rail and squinted. “Tell him I can’t see him. He needs to get into better light.”
Tate complied with her direction, and as he passed Jodie, he collected her by the arm and brought her along.
“Look who I ran into, Miss Parker,” he drawled.
“Who’s that?” Mae said, still peering into the gloom.
“The prodigal niece.” Jodie could tell from the way he said it that he was enjoying himself. Enjoying the fact that not even her own family had recognized her. Enjoying the prospect of what would happen once they did.
Jodie shook her arm free of his grasp and glared at him. “It’s me, Aunt Mac—Jodie.” she said, hurrying up the two short steps to give her great-aunt a hug.
For a moment Mae Parker was perfectly still, then, pulling back, she looked hard at the younger woman. “Jodie?” she repeated. It took only seconds for the other shoe to drop. “Jodie! What in heaven’s name have you done to yourself? Gib. Gib! Get over here!” she hollered. “Come see what your daughter’s done to herself!” Then back to Jodie, “I knew it was wrong for you to be at
such loose ends for so long. Idle hands always find trouble. You should’ve taken that job with Mimi Henderson in Houston like I wanted you to. Then you wouldn’t have had time to...to—”
“You don’t know that, Aunt Mae,” Jodie broke into her aunt’s uncharacteristic sputtering. “I’d’ve probably done the same thing. I—”
“Jodie!” Her father rushed onto the porch, grabbed her and held her close. “I’ve missed you, gal. Missed you. like the dickens! What are you doin’ here so early? I thought you weren’t gettin’ in till tomorrow. If I’d known, I’d’ve...”
With her face pressed into her father’s comfortably worn cotton shirt, it was impossible for Jodie to continue her protest. Instead, her nose twitched at the nostalgic scents of turpentine and oil paints. Her father might frustrate her frequently with his ineffectualness, particularly in his dealings with Mae, but she loved him. Loved him dearly.
Pulling back, Jodie smiled through a haze of tears. “You know me, Dad. I never do anything that’s expected.”
He’d changed little since the last time she’d seen him. A few more sprinkles of salt in his salt-and-pepper hair. A few more wrinkles to befit his sixty-three years. He beamed with happiness at her return, not seeming to care one whit about what she’d done with her hair.
Her cousins joined them on the porch. “Hey, little girl,” Rafe said, plucking her away from her father to twirl her around. “I didn’t recognize you!”
LeRoy stole her away from Rafe and continued the twirl. “You gonna find it hard to stay on the farm now that you’ve seen Paree?” he teased.
Jodie giggled at their antics—until Mae broke into the fun.
“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into on the way here?” she demanded. “Tate’s a busy man. Got a whole county to look after. I’m sure he has more to do than round up strays.”