by June Faver
Pete backed up, raising his hands in supplication. “Now, Miz Dixie, I can’t do that. Josh is my kin, and you can’t expect me to turn on my own kin.”
They stared at each other for what seemed like an eon.
Finally, she fisted her hands on her hips and tried another approach. “Do you think Josh would talk to me?”
Pete pursed his lips. “I dunno. I can ask him if he shows back up. I give ’im some money, so I don’t think he’s a-comin’ right back.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “If he comes back, please tell him I can give him money if he’ll talk to me. I need to know what happened to my friend.” And my father.
* * *
Beau had taken it upon himself to make sure all the caged animals were fed and their cages cleaned. It appeared that Pete was falling behind now that he was by himself.
Ava was keeping a half dozen baby ducks entertained while Beau arranged fresh paper in the bottom of their crate. He had washed and refilled their water and food containers.
When he glanced up, Dixie was staring at him. She looked upset but seemed to be holding it together. “Hi, baby. Did you get done with…whatever it was you wanted to do?”
“I—I guess.” She glanced back at Pete, who had settled himself behind the cash register again. “Are you about done here?”
“I thought I would make sure the critters had food and water and a clean place to live. I don’t think Pete has had time to do it all.”
A smile broke through. “That’s sweet, Beau. You were always the responsible one.”
He gave out a hearty laugh. “Have you met my father?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Look at the duckies, Mommy,” Ava said. “They like me. Can’t we take them home?”
Dixie shot Beau a grimace that clearly said No, we do not take ducks home.
Beau responded by gently picking up two of the ducklings and placing them back in their clean quarters. “I think these ducks are already taken. Pete is just keeping them for someone.”
Ava looked disappointed but graciously surrendered the ducklings. “I really like this one.” She handed over the last one but gave it a kiss on the head first.
Beau secured the enclosure and got to his feet. “Let me wash up, and we can get on the road. I’m anxious to know which paint color you choose for your room.”
Ava’s face lit up. “Green. I like the green.”
Beau cleaned up and came to meet Dixie and Ava at the front of the store. He noted that Pete appeared to be more depressed than he had been previously. He wondered if Dixie had anything to do with that.
When they got in the truck, she said, “I need to stop by the sheriff’s office before we go home. I—I found this little purse up in the loft where those young women were hiding. There’s a phone in it.”
Beau’s jaw tightened. “Why were you looking around up there?”
“I told you. I’m going to find out who murdered my father. I’m sure there are clues in this phone.”
Beau started the truck and drove to the sheriff’s office. “You stay here with Ava. I’ll run this in to the sheriff.” He swung out of the cab with the purse before Dixie could react.
He strode through the doors and looked around. “Where is the sheriff?”
A deputy sat behind a desk, typing on a keyboard. He didn’t look up. “In his office.”
“Tell him I’m here…Beau Garrett.”
The deputy glanced up without any particular interest. He picked up the phone and, after a brief conversation, told Beau to go on back.
He found the sheriff behind his desk with his booted feet up on his desk. “C’mon in, Beau. Take a load off.” He gestured to the chairs across from his desk.
Beau seated himself and tossed the purse on the cluttered desk. “I’ve got Dixie and our daughter waiting out in the truck, Sheriff, but we thought you should take a look at this.”
The sheriff took his feet down and leaned forward. “What’s this?”
“Dixie was poking around up in the loft where those girls were hunkered down, and she found this. Must have belonged to one of them. There’s a cheap cell phone in there. It might have some info you can use.”
The sheriff slipped the cell out of the clutch. “How does this one work?”
Beau took it from him and turned it on. He scrolled over to the contacts but only found one. “This guy. He must be the one who left them there. Maybe he shot the guy.”
The sheriff made a note of the number.
“Why don’t we see if there are any texts?” Beau scrolled down the list. “Here’s a whole script of their conversations. Some of the words are in Spanish, but you might be able to catch up with him through these.”
The sheriff jumped to his feet. “Whooee. You betcha! Hey, Gene. Come on in here.”
In a short time, the man who had been at the desk came shuffling into the office. “Whatcha’ got, Chief?”
“Beau here brought a phone from the place those girls were found. I wan’chu ta write down all the chats that are on here an’ git the phone numbers. I want it all.” He handed the cell to the deputy, who shuffled off again.
Beau rose as if to leave. “Speaking of the girls, how are the two younger ones? Are they still locked up?”
“Nah. Some social worker out of Amarillo came an’ took ’em off. Said she would try to git ’em back to their parents.” He sorted around in his desk drawer and came up with a business card. “Lorene Dyer, LSW, whatever that means.”
“Let me jot down her number. I’m sure my dad would want to make sure they’re okay.”
The sheriff flipped the card across the desk at him. “Take it.”
Beau took his leave and returned to the truck.
Dixie leaned forward to put her finger to her lips. “What happened?” she whispered.
He glanced back at Ava, who appeared to be dropping off to sleep. “The sheriff is going to follow up on the texts in the phone.”
She leaned back, appearing disappointed.
He started the truck and shifted into gear. “There was only one contact. That’s probably the guy.”
“Ooh, that’s great. How can we find him?”
“We don’t. The authorities will handle it.” He gave her a stern look he hoped would squelch her enthusiasm.
* * *
Beau took Dixie and Ava to the Moore ranch, leaving them to determine which colors to paint the bedrooms. He returned to the Garrett ranch only to receive his father’s merciless teasing.
Big Jim gaped at him, open-mouthed. “Look who it is, Colt. That’s one of your little brothers…can’t recall which one.”
“Very funny, Dad. I just needed to do some things with Dixie and Ava.” He removed his Stetson and tossed it on the rack near the front door.
“I figured,” Big Jim said. “How is my little granddaughter doing? You should bring her over here more.”
“Well, I needed to be over there. The good news is that we got paint samples today. I’m going to be helping paint Ava’s room. It was Dixie’s room when she was a girl.”
Big Jim and Colton exchanged a glance.
“That sounds promising,” Colt said.
“It sure does sound like little Miss Dixie is planning on sticking around for a while.” Big Jim slapped Beau on the shoulder.
“That’s my plan.” Beau frowned. “But you know how stubborn she has always been. Now she’s decided that she’s going to solve her father’s murder.”
Big Jim made a scoffing sound. “Well, that’s just crazy. Tell her to let the sheriff do his job.”
“I tried, Dad, but today we went to the feed store, and she got Pete to take her up to the loft where those girls were being held.” He shook his head. “She poked around up there and found a purse…a little one with a cell phone in it. I took it to t
he sheriff, and there was just one contact. Some man. He must be the one who brought those girls, and there were a lot of texts between him and the older girl, Valentina.”
Big Jim looked surprised, his blue eyes opening wide. “That sounds promising. Surely even our old duffer of a sheriff can follow up on a solid clue like that.”
“You’d think.” Beau shook his head, not trusting that their sheriff would follow through. “I just want this to all be over so we can get on with our lives.”
Big Jim put his arm around Beau’s shoulder and walked toward the stables. “Do you think Dixie is going to stay? Are you going to be able to hog-tie that little filly?”
Beau stopped beside a corral and leaned against the wood rail. “Something happened, Dad. Dixie said she found some letters her father wrote to her in Dallas and her mother refused. She’s been reading his letters, and it’s clear that her mom lied to her about her father disowning her.” He raked his fingers through his thick hair. “She’s furious with her mother and feeling guilty for believing that her dad would throw her out. I think that’s part of her drive to find Vern’s killer.”
Big Jim leaned both forearms on the railing. “I don’t blame her for being mad, but she’s just a girl—a young woman and a mother. She owes it to Ava, and to you, to stay alive.”
“I—uh, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
Big Jim’s whole countenance morphed from concern to joy. “Well, how about that? That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” His grin widened. “I’ll have all three of my sons married and settled…with children.”
“I hope I can get her down the aisle. You know Dixie.”
Big Jim’s bushy eyebrows waggled up and down. “Indeed I do. Crazy as a fruit fly half the time.”
Beau had to smile at that. “Yeah, but I love her. She’s the one.”
Big Jim smacked the heel of his hand against the railing. “She always has been.”
* * *
Dixie spread the paint chips out on the bed in the room that was now Ava’s. “What do you think?” Somehow, she had managed to misplace the neon-orange and lime-green paint samples.
“I like the purple,” Ava said. Unfortunately she pointed to the darkest value on the spectrum.
“Hmm… Well, maybe we can lighten it up a little. How about this one?” She moved Ava’s finger to the lightest lilac at the other end of the strip of paper.
Ava’s brow furrowed, and her lower lip jutted out.
“Or how about this nice pale pink? That’s pretty too.”
“I want the purple.”
“How about we let Daddy help us decide? He’s the one who is going to be helping me with the painting.”
Ava considered this for a moment and then nodded her head once. Probably certain that she could twist him around her little finger.
Dixie brought Ava to the kitchen and set about figuring what to prepare for dinner. Suddenly, the house felt very empty. After her discovery at the feed store, she was more than a little anxious. There had been something strange going on at the store for some time. Something that had gotten her father killed and her friend shot.
She tried to shake off the uneasy feeling and concentrate on foraging for food for her daughter. All the doors were locked up tight, and she had one of her dad’s handguns nearby but safely out of Ava’s reach.
The window coverings had been closed up as soon as they got home, so the house was even gloomier.
She kept glancing over her shoulder anyway. Finally she decided to make mac and cheese from a box, with wieners and canned peas on the side.
Dixie grimaced as she dished the food onto two plates and set one in front of her daughter. Ava seemed to think this meal was acceptable and reached for one of the wieners, grasping it in one hand while taking a big bite.
“Glad you like it,” Dixie said as she poured milk into Ava’s glass. “Here you go.” She turned to replace the milk in the refrigerator, and her breath caught in her throat. There! No, it’s gone.
She turned on the outside light, spilling light onto the backyard. Nothing.
She stood for a minute staring out the kitchen window, where she was certain she had seen a face peering at her. Her heart throbbed rhythmically in her ears, loud as thunder. She thought perhaps it was shaking her body, so she gripped the edge of the countertop for support.
Okay, I’m imagining things. Get a grip.
Most of all, she didn’t want to frighten her daughter. She needn’t have worried because Ava was happily munching her wiener. “Don’t forget to eat your macaroni.”
“I’m eating,” Ava sang out.
Dixie jumped when she heard a loud knocking on the front door. “Stay right there,” she ordered Ava as she surreptitiously retrieved the handgun and covered it with a dish towel.
Dixie crept to the front door and jumped again when the knocking began again.
“C’mon, Dixie. Open up.”
Relief washed through her as she recognized Beau’s voice. She tucked the dish towel–wrapped handgun under her armpit and managed to get both locks unlatched and the door opened.
Beau’s grin faded when he saw her face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He strode through the door and reached for her, but she backed away, reaching for the weapon under her arm.
“Wait! Let me put this away.” She showed him the gun and went to replace it among her father’s arms collection. When she returned, Beau had closed and locked the front door and met her as she came down the hallway.
“Armed and dangerous? What’s got you scared?”
She swallowed hard. “Oh, Beau. I’m afraid, and I don’t like being afraid.”
He opened his arms and folded her in an embrace.
“I—I thought I saw someone looking in the window…but when I turned on the light outside, there was no one there.”
“Want me to check around outside?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been pretty antsy since we got back from the feed store. I just let things get to me.”
He placed a kiss on top of her head, drawing her closer.
She tucked in tight, clinging to him in return. He felt so strong, so invincible. Surely nothing bad could happen when she was in Beau’s arms. Surely he would protect her and their daughter. “Are—are you going to stay tonight?”
He drew back to gaze into her eyes. “I’m going to stay. I’m kind of addicted to you.”
“Good. I guess I got spooked going into the loft and finding the purse. It made it all so real.” A shiver coiled around her spine. “I really need you tonight.”
He let out a low-pitched chuckle. “That sounds good.”
“Mmm—have you eaten? I have a really pitiful excuse for an evening meal. Ava seems to like it.”
“Sounds great.” He followed her into the kitchen, where he was greeted by a delighted, wiener-waggling Ava.
“Daddy, I want purple.”
Beau kissed her on the forehead and took a seat beside her. “Purple is a nice color.”
Dixie spooned macaroni and cheese onto a plate and added peas and wieners. When she placed the plate before him, he grinned.
“I can’t believe it. My mother used to serve me a meal just like this when I was Ava’s age.” He scooped up a bite and put it in his mouth, chewing blissfully. “Good times.”
Chapter 14
Dixie awoke with a start. She was alone and naked in the guest room bed. She distinctly recalled falling asleep mashed up against a very powerful chest, wrapped in extremely muscular arms. The fear that had been strangling her since her visit to the loft had evaporated. She’d slept without dreaming, comfortable in the knowledge that Beau would protect her and Ava.
An aching void of abandonment yawned in her chest. No, Beau hadn’t abandoned her. She had abandoned him…and her father. She had been gullible enoug
h to believe her mother’s lies and had hurt two people she loved very much…people who loved her.
Dixie curled into the fetal position, wrapping her arms around the pillow that had cradled Beau’s head. She inhaled the scent of him, somehow drawing power from his essence.
Straightening her limbs, she rolled onto her back and stretched out in all directions, trying to take up as much of the queen-size bed as possible.
The sun was up, so she might as well be too. A new day. Wonder how I can screw this one up?
Dixie put her feet on the ancient area rug, its pattern of flowers dull and worn. The clothes she had worn the previous day were strewn around the room, landing wherever Beau had tossed them.
A wry smile settled on her face as she recalled their previous night’s lovemaking. Yes, the man does know how to haul the mail.
She slipped into the clothes she had worn before, realizing her bag and the rest of her wardrobe was still in the room that was now officially Ava’s…the room that might soon be purple.
When she had dressed and finger-combed her hair, she ventured out into the hallway. A delicious aroma beckoned her to the kitchen. There she found her man slaving over a hot stove. Well, it was more that she found her hot man-slave working in front of the old gas range.
“Mornin’,” he called out pleasantly. “You were sleeping so pretty, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She closed the distance between them and was rewarded with a kiss that tasted like bacon. “Mmm…been sampling the wares?”
“Perks of the job,” he said. “Now, if you’ll go awaken our baby girl, I’ll scramble up some eggs.”
“Deal!” She went to Ava’s room and silently opened the door.
Ava was curled on one side, her arm thrown around her toy giraffe. Her innocent expression caused a warm sensation in Dixie’s heart. She tiptoed across the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. Ava’s big blue eyes opened, and she stretched.
“Good morning, precious. Daddy’s making your breakfast, so I’ll help you get dressed.”
Ava was slow to start in the morning, but she willingly slid out from under the covers and stood blinking sleepily.
