When to Call a Cowboy

by June Faver

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to take care of Ava and make love with you as often as possible.” She rolled over and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “I’m going to figure out how to manage the feed store and run this ranch, and along the way, I plan to find out who murdered my father and shot my friend Scott.”

  Beau sat up and reached for her, but she was on the move, locating underwear and a robe and shrugging into them. “Wait a minute. That sounds dangerous. I do not want you to do anything unsafe. Just be patient and let the sheriff deal with it.”

  She turned to him, tying the belt to her robe. “Obviously, you have forgotten who you are dealing with. Patience is not one of my virtues.” She winked before leaning down to pick up his hastily removed Wranglers. “You better get your britches on, cowboy. It’s show time.” She tossed them on the bed.

  Beau climbed to his feet and searched for his underwear. He was glad she seemed to have recovered some of her good spirits, but knowing her as he did, he was afraid her impetuous nature might put her in danger.

  Dixie sashayed out the door, casting an amused glance back at him before closing it behind her.

  Beau heaved a deep sigh. He pulled on his Wranglers and zipped them up. At last, he located his socks and boots, donning them as quickly as he could. All the while he tried to figure out how he could manage to placate Big Jim while staying glued to Dixie and Ava. He had to protect his females.

  * * *

  Their breakfast together was pleasant enough. Dixie made bacon and eggs, while Beau and Ava made the toast. Conversation was light, mainly concerned with Dixie’s announcement about painting the bedrooms and an excited discussion about color preferences.

  “Pink?” Dixie gazed at Ava. “That’s your favorite color?”

  Ava nodded furiously. “Yes, Mommy. I want to paint my room pink…with purple too.”

  As Dixie started to object, Beau interrupted. “I think that’s a great choice. I like red and yellow best myself. We can go check out paint colors this afternoon.”

  Dixie wrinkled her brow. “First, we have to take the Audi to Roger. He needs to have transportation, and I need to check on Scott. I’m such a bad friend.”

  “Okay, Ava and I can follow in my truck. Then we can pick out some paint.”

  Her brow cleared. “Okay. That works. Now let’s eat up so we can get on the road.”

  * * *

  Beau trailed a safe distance behind the dark-blue Audi in his pickup truck. Ava was secured in her child safety device on the passenger side of the backseat. She continued an animated conversation with no sign of wearying, commenting on everything they passed.

  “Oh, that cow has very big horns.” She pointed to a herd grazing close to the barbed-wire fence as they drove along the highway.

  “That cow is a Texas Longhorn bull. He belongs to Harold Maxwell.”

  “Is he a boy cow?”

  Beau grinned at her in the mirror. “Yes, Ava. A cow is a girl, and a bull or a steer is a boy.”

  Ava seemed to consider that for a moment. “What’s the difference between a bull and a steer?”

  Beau swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to have that conversation with his daughter at that particular moment. “Um, they’re both boys.” He pointed out the window. “Look! There are some more cows. The black ones are called Black Angus, and the ones with the light color are called Charolais.”

  She then bombarded him with questions about the different cattle breeds. He explained that they came from different countries. Yes, a much safer topic of conversation…and a good one for a rancher’s daughter.

  Eventually, they arrived in Amarillo, and Beau pulled into the parking area at the hospital. By the time he found a parking spot and wrangled Ava out of her car seat, Dixie was waiting for them at the entrance. She appeared to be slightly anxious. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her jaw was tight.

  Beau held Ava’s hand, but he also reached out to Dixie, hoping to comfort her.

  Dixie surprised him by sliding out of her tension like shedding a coat. A smile lit up her face as she laced her fingers in his. “How was the trip?”

  “Great,” Beau said.

  “Daddy told me all about cows and bulls and steers,” Ava piped up.

  Dixie’s footsteps faltered. “What?”

  “Not that discussion,” Beau said. “Just commenting on the livestock we passed.”

  The hospital entrance doors opened silently, and they stepped inside.

  “Do you want us to wait here in the lobby?” Beau asked.

  Dixie drew in a deep breath and heaved it out. “I’m not going to hide you from Roger and Scott. They’re a part of my life, and you and Ava are a part of my life. I need to have something gel, so you just come right along with me and face the wrath of a slightly bitter, middle-aged gay man…one who has been brainwashed by my mother.” She huffed out a sigh. “I don’t blame Roger. My mom is very convincing. She kept me under her spell for years.”

  Beau shrugged. “Sure, but why does he dislike me? I’ve never done anything to him.”

  “My mother. She painted you and the entire Garrett clan as heartless beasts who turned your back on me when I was a teen. Roger drank all the Kool-Aid.”

  “So did you.”

  “I did, but I’m over it. Now I need to set Roger straight.”

  Beau smiled. “Isn’t he gay?”

  Dixie rolled her eyes. “All right, smart ass. I want Roger to know the truth.”

  Beau slowed. “You don’t have to force me on him. I can just be on the sidelines. He’s probably concerned about his Scott.”

  “No!” Her voice took on a sharp tone. “I’m tired of having things hidden. From now on, I’m living my life right out here in the open. People can love me or just run away.”

  They stopped in front of the elevators, and Ava ran forward to push the button.

  Beau pulled Dixie closer and grazed her temple with a kiss. “I’m one of the people who loves you.”

  The elevator door whished open, and they stepped inside. Dixie selected a floor, and they rode in silence until the door opened again and they stepped out. Beau felt reluctant to make any waves. He thought Dixie had made up her mind, so he lifted Ava into his arms and followed her to the nurses’ station. She asked for Scott’s room number, and the charge nurse said that Ava could not visit.

  Beau felt greatly relieved when the nurse pointed out a waiting area. “Ava and I will just wait for you over there.”

  Her face wore a one-sided smile that might be considered a smirk. “You’re not off the hook, Mister. I’ll be back.” The latter was said in her best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression.

  Beau took Ava to the waiting area and settled into a green plastic upholstered chair with her on his lap.

  There was an elderly couple sitting together. They looked tired and stared vacantly at the television. For her part, Ava was staring at the couple.

  Beau sorted through the reading material and found a very old issue of Highlights for Children. “Let’s look at this one, okay?”

  Beau found a short story and began reading it to Ava in a low voice. That’s how Dixie found them. He looked up when he heard footsteps on the polished floor. Unfortunately, a scowling Roger trailed behind her. He appeared to have downed a bottle of vinegar judging by his expression.

  “Ava, your Uncle Roger wanted to say hello.” Dixie looked a bit strained but bore a determined smile.

  Beau let the magazine slide to the floor and stood with Ava in his arms. “Roger,” he said, nodding at the beetle-browed man.

  Roger hesitated then nodded as well. “Beauregard.” He held out his arms for Ava, who leaned toward him.

  Reluctantly, Beau released her, but Ava seemed to genuinely like the man.

  With the child in his arms, Roger�
��s demeanor changed, and he actually looked friendly. He strolled toward one of the windows, engaging Ava in conversation.

  Dixie closed the distance between them, and Beau slid his arm around her shoulders. He was gratified that she leaned into him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

  When Roger turned, his face registered a moment of shock before recovering its cool facade. He crossed the room and stopped in front of them. “I better be getting back.” He kissed Ava on her cheek and set her on her feet. “Goodbye, darling. I hope to see you soon.” He turned to leave, but Dixie called him back.

  “Hang on a minute, Roger. I wanted you to be the first to know that Beau proposed and I accepted. If my mother hadn’t lied her head off, it would have happened long ago. But we’re together again, and we won’t be parted.”

  Roger took a few steps back toward them but stopped uncertainly.

  “I just wanted you to know because you and Scott have been my dear friends and I love you both. I hope we will continue to be close.” She gazed at him steadily, demanding something from him.

  Roger drew himself up to his full height. “Well, Scott and I love you too, and Ava is a part of our family. Of course we will always be close.” He stood for a moment, looking quite uncomfortable.

  Then Dixie moved away from Beau and threw her arms around Roger in an enthusiastic embrace. When they separated, Roger held his hand out to Beau, who clasped it in return. “Congratulations. You’re getting the best woman on the planet…and the best girl.” His eyes were moist, and he swallowed hard.

  Beau shook Roger’s hand and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Don’t I know it? Dixie has always been the best, and now I have Ava too. I’m a very lucky man.”

  Roger went back to his vigil, and Dixie looked up at Beau. “I guess we can go now.”

  Beau sensed she had leaped over some kind of hurdle, at least in her own mind, because she appeared to be much more relaxed. “Are we going to pick out some paint now?”

  “You bet.”

  Chapter 13

  Dixie felt content. She was strapped into the passenger seat of Beau’s truck with Ava behind her. A country song was playing softly on the radio. Beau’s mouth was curled up at the corners. She hoped he was feeling content too.

  Ava kept up a constant commentary on whatever they passed. She was gripping a wad of paint samples, some of which were actually colors Dixie could agree to. She was hoping for one of the soft pastels and hoping to misplace the neon-orange paint chip.

  “I’m going by your very own feed store,” Beau announced. “We need food for the bunnies. Bertram and Anastasia are hearty eaters.”

  “Sure. If I were a good and responsible employer, I would be there every day…like my dad was.” Dixie suppressed a shiver as she realized how her father had ended up.

  “You’ve had a lot going on,” Beau said.

  She liked that he was always defending her, or was he making excuses for her? Either way, it was kind of sweet and very annoying at the same time. “Well, it’s good that we’re going to the feed store. I’m sure Pete will appreciate us even showing up.”

  Beau winked at her. “He will.” He drove through the town of Langston to the site of Moore’s Feed and Seed on the far edge of town. When they arrived, they found Pete sitting behind the cash register looking particularly morose.

  She tried to appear cheery, which she knew came across as totally fake. “How are you doing, Pete? Is everything going well around here?” She grinned fatuously.

  Pete raised his brows. “I—I don’t know. I guess everything’s going okay, except for…you know…the girls in the shed. That was not your everyday occurrence.” His mouth tightened. “An’ then that guy got shot out back…”

  Beau leaned over the counter to shake Pete’s hand. “It’s been a bad time, all right. You just hang in there, Pete.”

  Dixie edged closer to the counter. “Why don’t you and Ava go and pick out the tastiest bunny food while Pete and I talk business?”

  Beau gave her a smart-aleck salute, and he and Ava headed for the back room to shop for the rabbits. Dixie sincerely hoped they didn’t fall in love with any more cute animals.

  She leaned on the counter and gave her employee her full attention. “So, how are you really doing, Pete?”

  “I—I guess I’m okay. I don’t seem to be able to keep up with everything without Josh. I haven’t felt comfortable to even go out to the shed since…you know?” He spoke in a low voice, and he looked frightened.

  “How about if you show me where it all happened? Do you think you could do that?”

  Pete’s mouth twitched. “Well, I guess I could do that. Don’t you want to get Beau to come back there with us?”

  “I think we’ll be all right. It’s broad daylight.”

  “Yes’m, Miz Dixie. Right this way.” He took a key off a hook behind him.

  Dixie followed behind Pete out to the back, down a flight of stairs, and back up onto the loading dock. Pete fumbled with the lock and then pulled up a wide overhead door that rattled and shook on its climb up to the high ceiling. There was an ominous silence to the void within.

  She saw row after row of bagged feed for animals and various seed for planting. The bags were huge, and she couldn’t imagine how one person could lift one, but she supposed that a man as strong as Beau wouldn’t have a problem. There was a forklift in the corner to the back, and the high windows allowed the late-afternoon sunlight to brighten the space.

  She raised her eyes to the overhead loft. “Is that where the girls were hiding?”

  Pete glanced around nervously. He nodded. “They was up there, all right.”

  “I want to see it. Is that the way up?” She pointed to a metal staircase affixed to the far wall.

  Pete’s voice reflected terror. “That there’s the only way to get up to the loft.”

  Although Pete’s tension was causing her stomach to turn flip-flops, she nodded at him pleasantly. “Okay, I’m going to have a look around.” She headed for the stairs, aware that Pete was not following her. She made it halfway up the stairs before glancing back at him, but his panic was apparent. Okay, I’m on my own.

  When she reached the loft, she felt a little less anxiety. The upper level was filled with large bales of hay and huge bags of feed. There was another garage door–type opening toward the loading dock and a conveyor belt that could be directed to whatever waited below. But the opening was sealed up tight.

  She found the place the girls must have been hiding. They could not have been seen if they were seated behind the big rolls of hay lined up in the front row. Smaller rectangular bales were stacked against the far wall, and that was where they had hunkered down. Some of the bales had been rearranged out of their orderly stacks to provide cover, she supposed. Dixie saw something stuffed down on the floor with loose hay pulled over it. When she reached for it, she realized it was a small clutch purse. It was scuffed and of cheap quality, but there was something inside.

  Reluctantly, she unzipped the top and saw there was a lipstick and mascara, a small amount of cash, and a cell phone complete with charger. Well, well, well…this should be interesting.

  She poked around a bit more and then descended the stairs with the purse under her arm.

  Pete wasn’t exactly pacing. It was more as if he was shifting from foot to foot. Definitely nervous. When he spotted Dixie, he froze and his brow cleared, perhaps a little too forcibly.

  “Uh, Miz Dixie. Are you ready to get outta here now?” He edged toward the gaping exit to the loading dock.

  Dixie strolled toward him, unwilling to let him off the hook. “I think you can level with me, Pete. You know something. What’s really going on?”

  Pete swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his ropey throat. “Well, y’see…” He wrung his hands together. “I mean…”

 
She put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Pete. I haven’t been here much, but I really do want to help.” To her dismay, he broke into tears and collapsed against her shoulder. She was forced to pat his back and say soothing things to the shaken man.

  “I’m so afraid,” he moaned.

  “What are you afraid of?” she asked, although she knew good and darned well he had plenty of reason to be fearful.

  He drew back, gazing at her, wide-eyed. “It’s everything. Everything that’s been happening around here.” He swallowed again. “First, that terrible thing that happened to your daddy.”

  Dixie was careful not to show the pain that statement dealt her. She nodded, accepting that the murder of her father was indeed a terrible thing.

  “An’—an’ then that poor young feller got shot.” Pete’s body was racked with a tremor. “An’ Josh…he just vamoosed.”

  “Vamoosed? You mean he disappeared?” Dixie heaved a sigh. “And now you’re afraid he was also murdered?”

  Pete’s eyes opened even wider. He glanced around both ways over his shoulders and then lowered his voice. “No, Miz Dixie. I was thinkin’ that he musta been kilt, but then Josh showed up at my place last night. He’s scared to death. He saw who shot your friend.”

  “What?” Dixie’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. “Your cousin told you he knows who shot Scott? You have to tell the sheriff. Let’s call him right now.” She took a few steps toward the loading dock, but Pete pulled away.

  “No! I swore to Josh that I wouldn’t tell no one. He’s on the run, and he don’t want to get kilt too.” He ducked his chin. “An’ now I’ve gone and run my mouth off to you.”

  Dixie whirled around to face him. “You can’t withhold information like that. It’s too important. If Josh was the only witness, he has to come forward.” She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to one side, a position that always conveyed to her daughter that she meant business.