Colorado Cowboy - Includes a bonus novella

by Sara Richardson

  Leaving the spatula next to the stove, she crossed through the open-concept kitchen and living room to the hall where the two extra bedrooms were. Melody’s door stood open, so she peeked inside.

  It was dark. “Mel?” Charity stepped into the room. The beginnings of panic prickled across her skin. Where was her sister’s suitcase? Why was the bed made?

  She walked to the dresser, her eyes fixated on a small scrap of paper sitting in the very center. The flashes of panic all merged into a searing heat that rose straight to her chest.

  Char—I need you to watch Bodie for a while. Until I get some things figured out. I know you’ll take care of him. It won’t be long. I promise. Tell him I’ll be back soon.—Mel

  She promised? She promised? If she remembered right, Melody’s promises didn’t exactly count for much. She’d wanted to believe her sister had changed, but this was exactly the kind of thing she used to pull when Bodie was a baby. She’d show up unannounced and tell Charity she needed to run errands. A few days—or in some cases a week—later she’d come back to pick him up and explain that she’d met up with some friends and they’d gone out partying. A familiar anger snaked through her. Charity never would’ve minded watching him, but the manipulation—the similarity to their mom’s treatment of them—got to her.

  “Where’s my mom?”

  The groggy voice behind her turned her spine to steel. Charity placed her hand over the note and slid it against her palm before crumpling it in her fist.

  “Did she already pack up the car?” Bodie asked, suddenly sounding more alert. “Why didn’t she wake me up?”

  A hard swallow knotted Charity’s throat. She turned to face her nephew, still seeing that little boy she’d wanted so badly to protect all those years ago. He might act tough and indifferent now, but his hair was mussed and his mouth drooped with worry, and she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him Melody dumped him off with her. “She had some errands to run.” Before he could see the anger on her face, she slipped past him and booked it back to the kitchen.

  “What errands?” Bodie followed behind her.

  Smoke billowed off the now-blackened pancakes on the griddle, allowing her to buy a few seconds while she scraped them into the sink. When she turned back around, Bodie stood a few feet away, a knowing scowl on his face. “She’s gone, isn’t she?” His blue eyes were steeled, stone cold.

  How many times had she worn that same look when her mother had left them a note? Won’t be home tonight! Make sure you get off to school on time in the morning. Or the classic Had the chance to go away for the weekend! There’s food in the refrigerator. It didn’t matter if Charity had been in first grade or sixth. She’d wanted her mom there. She’d wanted to be worth sticking around for. And most of the time her mom decided she wasn’t.

  Avoiding Bodie’s questioning glare, Charity went to turn off the stove top. “It’s okay. Your mom will be back soon.” She would make sure. She would track Melody down and drag her back here. There was no way she would let her sister get away with leaving her son while she went off and partied or whatever. He deserved better. He deserved to have a parent who put him first.

  Rushing back to the sink, Charity doused the pile of blackened pancakes and the griddle, steam rising up to her face. “Why don’t you get your shoes on?” she called to Bodie over her shoulder. She had no idea how long Melody had been gone, but it didn’t matter. Charity knew exactly who could help find her.

  Bodie didn’t move. “Where are we going?”

  “Out for breakfast.” She wrangled a smile. “Obviously my pancakes didn’t turn out so hot, but you’ll love the ones my friend makes at the local café.” That’s where Dev hung out most mornings. “Come on,” Charity prodded, waving her nephew toward the front door. “I’ll even let you order chocolate milk.”

  “I’m not three anymore,” Bodie snapped. “I don’t like chocolate milk.”

  Oh, that anger. He held on to it the same way she did—like a shield. That’s what you did when you felt abandoned. It’s what she had done. In some ways, the anger had saved her. But she also knew what hid underneath it. Fear. If he pushed her away first, she wouldn’t have the chance to reject him.

  “Fine. Don’t get chocolate milk.” Charity shoved her wallet into her back pocket and opened the front door, pausing to wait for him to lace up his boots. “But I feel it’s my duty to inform you that this particular chocolate milk is Everly’s special blend with real cocoa and a dash of vanilla in the creamiest organic whole milk you’re ever tasted. Trust me. Everyone in this town loves chocolate milk.”

  Bodie grunted something inaudible as he tied his boots in jerky motions.

  “What was that?” Charity asked.

  Her nephew stood. “I said I might try it,” he muttered on his way out the door.

  “Great.” After locking the deadbolt, she traipsed along after him. When they’d both climbed into her truck and their seat belts were securely fastened, she backed down the driveway. “This’ll be fun. Us spending the day together.” She tried to keep her tone optimistic instead of panicked. What was she supposed to do with a brooding thirteen-year-old all day? “We used to do that all the time when you were little.” It had been easier back then. She’d hand the kid a Matchbox car and take him outside and they’d be content for hours, building tracks in the dirt for their miniature Grand Prix. Something told her Bodie had outgrown innocent fun a long time ago.

  “I don’t remember.” Her nephew glared out the passenger’s window, his shoulders so stiff it had to put a crick in his neck.

  “We used to have a great time together.” A wistfulness sighed through the words. She couldn’t help it. Emotion welled up inside of her. “I used to take you to the park. The one by the river back home,” she murmured, lost in the memory. “It had the tallest slide I’ve ever seen. But you weren’t afraid of it. You’d beg me to take you down, over and over. We’d laugh the whole way—”

  “Can we cut the crap?” Her nephew had finally turned his face to hers. A brazen resentment clenched his jaw. “I don’t know you. Haven’t seen you in ten years. So don’t pretend you care about me. Mom should’ve brought me to Grandma’s house instead.”

  Oh yeah. That would’ve been great. Her mother could give grandparent hugs and kisses with the best of them but when it came to actually being responsible and supervising a child, she tended to flounder. But it seemed Bodie actually loved his grandma. He definitely didn’t love Charity. That much was obvious. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pulled into a parking spot at the café. “I didn’t know where you and your mom were.” She struggled to hold back the threatening tears.

  Bodie ignored her. “Like you said, my mom’ll come back. She never stays away long. So you don’t have to pretend you’re happy we just showed up on your doorstep. I can take care of myself until she comes back.” Without giving her the chance to respond, he got out of the truck.

  “I thought cops ate doughnuts.”

  Dev wasn’t sure if he should shake his head or roll his eyes at the worn-out adage courtesy of his friend Ty Forrester, so he did both. “I’m a mountain cop. I can’t eat doughnuts.” Hell, just last week, he’d had to chase Pauly Gleeson’s drunk brother half a mile up a mountain when he’d pulled him over for speeding. Then after he’d arrested him he had to haul his butt all the way back to his SUV. If he ate too many doughnuts, that kind of thing would be impossible.

  “Doughnuts sure look a hell of a lot better than that.” Ty slid into the booth across from him. As usual, the Farm Café was packed. Even with the upgrades his friends Mateo Torres and Everly Brooks had made to the farmhouse-turned-restaurant, nearly every table was occupied except for a few in the back. Dev folded up his newspaper and tossed it on the bench next to him to make room for the large breakfast Ty would inevitably order. From what he’d seen, bull riders tended to burn a lot of calories.

  “What is that anyway?” His friend eyed the food on Dev’s plate.

&nb
sp; “It’s Everly’s specialty—quinoa egg scramble.” And she always threw in some meat for him too. Sometimes bacon, but today it was her special fennel sausage.

  His friend grimaced. “It looks like something that came out of the garbage disposal.”

  “I heard that.” Everly hovered nearby, refilling coffee mugs over at the Cortez brothers’ table.

  “Watch out,” Mateo called from behind the dinerlike counter. “My wife doesn’t serve customers who insult her cooking.”

  Ty immediately raised his hands. “No one’s insulting anything.” He shot Everly a grin. “You know I love your cooking.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She passed them by with a smile too sweet to be sassy. “I’ll be right with you, Ty.”

  Dev had to laugh. Everly might be sweet, but she had no problem making Ty wait for his breakfast. He finished off the last few bites of his scramble and pushed away the plate, keeping an eye on his watch. “So, what’s up, Forrester?” He had to start his shift at nine, but in his experience, Ty joined him for breakfast only when he had something to discuss. “You got something on your mind?”

  “Actually, I do.” His friend leaned in. “We need to talk about your campaign.”

  Here we go. Dev sipped his coffee, fueling up for a day of discussions exactly like this one. Lately he couldn’t walk down the street without someone bringing up the county sheriff election. When his boss had told Dev he planned to retire, he’d encouraged the deputy to throw his hat into the ring as his successor, but Dev had never dreamed it would be a possibility. Now the election was only a few months away, and, according to the unofficial polls conducted by the local newspaper, he was the frontrunner. “What’d you mean my campaign?”

  “It’s time to get serious,” Ty told him. “We need to ramp things up. Take the publicity to a higher level.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult considering I haven’t exactly run a campaign.” Other than his friends posting signs on their land. “Actually, I don’t plan to do anything else before the election. I figure most people around here already know me. They don’t need help deciding whether they think I’m right for the job.” He didn’t want the job if the people didn’t have confidence in him anyway.

  “That’s it?” Ty turned around to the Cortez brothers. “Did you hear that? He’s giving in. Going down without a fight.”

  “Going down?” Levi held up the most recent edition of the local paper. “Didn’t you read the opinion section? According to Betty Osterman, Dev Jenkins is—and I quote—not only devastatingly handsome, he’s also the right man for the job.”

  Everyone seated at the nearby tables cracked up.

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. This was exactly why he didn’t love discussing the election. While his friends supported him, they also used it as an opportunity to razz him. “Can I help it if the over-sixty female demographic finds me charming?” At least he knew he’d get a couple of votes. “Why do you care so much about the election anyway?” he asked Ty. His friend had never shown an interest in local politics.

  “I figure if you become the county sheriff you can make all my parking tickets go away.”

  “You’re serious?” He let his expression do the talking.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m serious. Those suckers are expensive.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t park your truck illegally anymore,” Dev suggested pleasantly.

  “Come on, man—”

  Thankfully, Everly chose that moment to scurry over to the table. “Hey, Ty. Sorry for the wait. Can I get you something to eat?”

  He eyed what was left of Dev’s scramble. “I’ll go with two eggs over easy and as much bacon as you’re willing to put on the plate.”

  “Got it.” She jotted down the order with a grin. “What about you, Dev? Want a refill on your coffee?”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be heading out pretty quick.” Even quicker now that the election had come up. If he did get elected, he’d be honored to serve, but all the attention was starting to get old.

  “Here’s your check.” She handed him the small receipt with the typical discount she gave him for being a public officer. He used to try to talk her out of it, but she insisted, so he left the difference in the tip.

  “Have a good day,” Everly said before rushing off to the next table.

  As soon as she was gone, Ty started in again on the campaign thing, but the door opened across the room and Charity walked in, which meant all Dev heard from his friend was blah, blah, blah.

  Charity seemed to scan the restaurant nervously. A kid trudged behind her like he was marching death row. He seemed to be dressed like it too—black T-shirt, black jeans, and tall black boots. Quite the contrast from the other kids in this town with their big belt buckles and cowboy boots.

  Charity gestured for the kid to sit in a booth over by the windows. Everly greeted them both and handed them menus, but Charity simply set hers on the table and continued standing.

  “Are you listening to me?” Ty asked.

  “No.” He was too busy watching Charity. Her eyes landed on him then, and she said something to Bodie before heading over.

  Dev watched her the whole way. She had that walk…the one that stirred hunger. It was those tight jeans she wore, ripped and faded, conformed to the curve of her hips, her thighs…

  “Dev, I need to talk to you.” She stopped at the end of their table.

  He glanced at Ty. “Guess you need to find another place to sit.”

  Confusion crumpled his friend’s face. “What could you two possibly have to talk about that requires privacy?”

  Charity leaned in, her long blond braid spilling down over her shoulder. She likely meant to look menacing, but Dev picked up on a touch of worry pulling at her mouth.

  “Take a walk, Ty.” She said it like a warning.

  “Fine.” The man scooted his way out of the booth, but pointed at Dev. “Think about that campaign. Okay? I could help get you some publicity.”

  Dev gave Ty a noncommittal nod and drained the rest of his coffee while Charity slid in across from him.

  For the second time in two days she didn’t have the strong, in-control look about her. He set down his mug and leaned into the table. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to find my sister.” She sat straight and tall, chin cocked up, but a tremble hid in her voice.

  “Your sister?” Charity had family around these parts? He’d obviously missed something.

  “Yes. My older sister. Melody.” It came out in a whisper. “She showed up at my house last night with my thirteen-year-old nephew and then sometime while I was asleep she took off.”

  Dev let that register. Charity had a sister. And a nephew. It reminded him there was a lot he didn’t know about her. “Why would she take off?”

  “Because she’s a mess.” The words ended in a deep, heartsick sigh. “It doesn’t matter why. I just need you to find her for me.”

  If only life were that easy. He’d looked for his own birth mother for years, and even with all of the resources at his disposal, he had yet to find her. “Did your sister say anything? Like where she was going or when she’d be back?”

  Charity pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and slid it across the table like she didn’t want anyone to see it. “She left this note and asked me to take care of Bodie for a while.”

  Dev glanced at the scrawled words. At least she’d left a note. That was more than his mother had done.

  “I’m not sure what to do with him.” Charity peeked over her shoulder in the direction of her nephew again. “The kid hates me. I think he hates everyone.”

  Dev did a quick assessment. Everything about Bodie seemed dark—his clothes, his mood. He sat in one of the best spots to see the view of the mountains out the window, but still he glowered with what seemed to be worse than typical teenaged angst. “Thirteen-year-old boys aren’t known for being sunshine and roses.” He hadn’t been, that was for damn sure. Of course he hadn’t looked like he’
d just stepped off the set of The Walking Dead either. He refocused on the woman sitting across from him. “He has no idea where his mom would’ve gone?”

  “No. She didn’t tell him anything.” The expression of soft concern on her face hardened into that same determined look she wore when she rode. “We need to file a missing persons report. Get everyone out there looking for her.”

  Oh, man. She wasn’t gonna want to hear this. He braced himself. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Her glare deepened, but it didn’t scare him. That glare held his attention.

  “Melody left a note. Said she’s coming back. She asked you to watch her kid.” All of which was perfectly legal and normal for a family member to do. “Technically, she’s not missing. In fact, it sounds like she wanted a vacation.”

  Judging from the red hue on Charity’s face, that was the wrong thing to say.

  “Well, she can’t do that. She can’t take a vacation from her kid without telling anyone. She can’t just dump him off with a relative he doesn’t even know. It’s not right.”

  “I agree with you.” Dev raised his hands to remind her they were on the same side. “But I can’t officially file a missing persons report.” He couldn’t waste police resources because Charity was pissed at her sister.

  “Then what am I supposed to do?” she demanded. “I travel. I have to train. He should be in school right now…”

  She had a point. If her sister hadn’t gotten the boy’s absence excused, they could always go the truancy route. But that could get ugly too. “We could call social services, but if they can’t locate her, they’ll want him to stay with you anyway.”

  “Why?” This seemed to be news to her. Not surprising. Most people didn’t understand how social services worked.

  “The state believes it’s better for him to be with family. That’s always their first option.”

  “But he doesn’t want to be here.” Her cheeks caved. “He doesn’t want to be with me.”