When to Call a Cowboy

by June Faver

  Scott’s eyes fluttered open. “I—I think my memory is…a little fuzzy. I was thinking…there was one guy…but now, I think there were two…or maybe more.”

  “Time’s up!”

  Dixie turned to see the nurse from the desk standing in the doorway.

  “Short visits only. Doctor’s orders.” She gestured to the doorway.

  “Oh, can I just say goodbye?” Dixie asked.

  “Two minutes,” the nurse said and left them alone.

  Dixie leaned over to whisper. “Listen, Scott. You have to focus. Was there one man, or were there more? It’s very important.”

  “I’m not sure… I really don’t know.” Scott’s brows drew together. “I’m getting a headache.”

  “Oh, sorry. Please just rest and get well. Love you a bunch.” She kissed him on the cheek and backed out of the room, bumping into the nurse on her way. “Sorry.”

  Dixie left the hospital and walked across to the café where Roger and Ava were entertaining each other. The sound of Ava’s laughter carried from the other side of the eating place to where Dixie stood. She zigzagged between the tables to slide into the red-plastic seat of the booth beside Ava.

  “Mommy! How is Uncle Scott?”

  Dixie exchanged a glance with Roger. “He’s good, baby.”

  Roger raised his brows. “Did you have a good visit?”

  “Um—sure.” She fiddled with the plastic-covered menu. “The poor man can barely breathe,” she said under her breath.

  “But he’s so much better,” Roger assured her. “He was on a respirator. The doctors tell me he’s making amazing progress.”

  Dixie nodded her head, miserable that her friend had nearly lost his life. “I hate that he’s struggling.”

  Roger shook his head. “You must not think of it as Scott struggling. He’s a strong person, and he has a long rehabilitation ahead. I would take him back to Dallas, but he’s making such great progress here, and he really likes his rehabilitation team. I don’t want to do anything to impede his progress.”

  “No, of course not.” She was touched by Roger’s willingness to change his own life to be near the person he loved. “I’m sure Scott is so grateful for your support.”

  Roger’s eyes misted up. “He’s just so very dear to me.” He pried a napkin out of the napkin holder and dabbed at his eyes.

  “You’re right. Scott is tough as nails. He’s going to get through this.” Dixie reached across to squeeze his hand. “We’ll get through this.”

  * * *

  Big Jim, Ty, and Leah dropped Gracie off at the elementary school in the morning and then headed to Amarillo to pick up the kidnapped girls.

  Leah and Ty trooped into the social worker’s office, while Big Jim idled out front. They walked down the hallway, hand in hand, locating the office in a niche near the drinking fountain. Lorene Dyer, LSW, was inscribed on the door. Leah reached out a tentative hand to knock and was rewarded with an invitation to enter.

  Ty swung the door open, and Leah stepped through.

  “Mrs. Dyer?”

  The woman turned, her lips turned down in a grimace. “It’s Miss Dyer.”

  Leah stepped forward and extended her hand. “Miss Dyer. I’m Leah Garrett, and this is my husband, Tyler.”

  Miss Dyer shook hands with both of them, obviously appreciating the tall, handsome blue-eyed man towering over her. “Well, I—ah.” A blush flamed her cheeks. “These young ladies are going to be your charges until you turn them over to their parents. We usually don’t operate this way, but Sheriff Rollins gave your father and your entire family such a good reference. He vouched for all of you.”

  Leah smiled. “That’s good to hear.” She gazed at the two young girls sitting close on a worn leather couch, their hands laced tightly together. They looked terrified, eyeing the newcomers with distrust.

  Leah gave them a smile and waggled her fingers at them.

  “The older one is named Sofia, and the younger is Ana,” Miss Dyer supplied.

  “Do they have a suitcase or something?” Ty asked.

  Miss Dyer gave him a somewhat scornful look. “They were kidnapped. They didn’t exactly have time to pack a bag.”

  Ty swallowed hard. “I see.”

  “Do I know you?” Miss Dyer stared up at him. “You look so familiar.”

  “My husband won Country Idol this last year,” Leah said proudly. “Perhaps you saw him on television.”

  Miss Dyer’s expression transformed from stiff and distant to smiling and warm. “I knew it! You were wonderful.”

  “He still is,” Leah said. “Shall we get the girls into the truck? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, at least ten and probably twelve hours.”

  “Yes…yes, of course.” Miss Dyer handed Leah a paper to sign stating that they were taking charge of the sisters, and she gave her the number of the girls’ parents’ phone. Then she turned her attention to the two girls. “C’mon,” she called, accompanied by appropriate hand gestures.

  The girls stood, looking bewildered and afraid. The younger girl, Ana, had tears in her eyes.

  Leah couldn’t stand it any longer and crossed the room to embrace both of them. “Please don’t be afraid. We’ll take care of you.”

  “I’m afraid they don’t understand a word you’re saying to them,” Miss Dyer supplied.

  But Leah could tell the girls felt a little more confident. They met her eyes without flinching. She nodded and urged them toward the door that Ty was holding open for them.

  When they had traversed the hall and were out on the street, Big Jim was standing beside the truck. He opened the back door and helped them up.

  “I’ll sit back here with them,” Leah said. “I brought this book of Spanish phrases I got from the library. I’ll see if I can say a few words to them.”

  “Atta girl,” Big Jim said, closing the door behind them. He and Ty climbed into the truck, and they headed south.

  Leah had brought some snacks in a small cooler and opened it. The girls seemed to be interested in the contents. “I have leche con chocolate.” she said and passed them each a carton of chocolate milk. “And empanadas. Little meat pies. I got them at the bakery.”

  “Did you get some for us too?” Ty asked.

  “Check the console. I got you things I know you like.”

  Big Jim’s laughter boomed out. “Thank you, Tyler, for marrying such a wonderful woman.”

  “You’re welcome, Dad. Let me know when you want me to take over driving,” Ty stretched his long legs out. “Mexico, here we come.”

  “Nosotros vamos a México,” Leah said, gratified when the girls appeared to be relieved.

  * * *

  Beau got up extra early to finish tasks at Dixie’s and then headed out to help Colton at the Garrett ranch.

  By the time he finished, he was famished since he had not eaten breakfast. “What’s for lunch, Colt?” he asked.

  “Whatever we rustle up,” Colt replied. “Misty’s at work, and Leah went with Dad and Ty down to Mexico. We’re on our own.”

  “Not a problem. Just lead the way to the fridge.”

  When they opened the refrigerator, they ended up taking everything edible out and lining it up on the granite countertop.

  “We should be able to find a meal here.” Colton gestured to the array.

  “Yeah, but what are you going to eat?” Beau elbowed Colt out of the way and reached for a plate. “I am going to make sandwiches with everything on them. Maybe an entire cow.” He reached for the bread, placing four slices on his plate, slathering them with mayonnaise, and stacking meats and cheeses on top. He mashed all the ingredients together to make two very fat sandwiches. He poured milk into two tall tumblers and nudged one toward his brother, who was rummaging through the food to fill his own plate. Colt settled for leftovers and heat
ed them in the microwave. They took their food out onto the back patio and settled into two deck chairs side by side with a small table between.

  Beau set his milk on the table and reached for one of the sandwiches. He made short work of it and was just ready to start on the next one when Colt brought him up short.

  “You in a hurry, Little Bro?” Colt asked. “You’re stuffing your food in like you’ve got someplace else to be. Does Miss Dixie have you on a short leash?”

  Beau picked up his milk and drank it down. “That does it. I’m outta here.”

  “Wait. What’s the deal?” Colt asked.

  “I’ve had it with you bashing my relationship with Dixie. I love her, and if you can’t respect that, then I have no reason to be here.” He stood up, sandwich in hand, and strode through the house to the front room, where he retrieved his Stetson and barged out the door. Climbing into his truck, he looked back to see Colt in the doorway, looking puzzled.

  Beau slammed his truck door and started it up, revving the motor. He managed to maneuver his vehicle off the Garrett property without dropping any of his sandwich.

  He drove into town, knowing he had to pick Gracie up at school in a mere two hours, but he figured it was better to be early than late. Driving by the feed store, he noted that Pete was sweeping the front porch, industriously swinging the broom from side to side.

  He turned the truck around and drove as slowly as possible, figuring he was going to park in front of the elementary school to wait for dismissal. But he saw Breckenridge T. Ryan pull into a parking place in front of his office. He tooted his horn, and Breck raised a hand in greeting and walked toward Beau’s truck.

  Beau pulled over and rolled down his window. “Hey, Breck. How’s it going?”

  Breck leaned in, smacking Beau on the arm. “Hey there, Beau. It’s going fine. I sure do like having your sister-in-law Misty running my office. I feel like I can pretty much leave her alone if I need to, and she has the sense to keep things on an even keel.”

  “Yeah, Misty does have my oldest brother wrapped around her little finger.”

  “How about you? Is everything going well with Dixie Moore?”

  Beau swallowed hard, not sure where to start. “Everything’s great. I can’t believe I have a beautiful little girl. My dad is crazy about her.”

  “I’ll bet. Is Dixie getting things squared away at the feed store?” Breck looked at him intently.

  “I might as well tell you, Breck…I’ve told her to stay away from the feed store. There are too many dangerous things going on related to the store. First her dad was murdered, and then her friend was shot. Now it looks like there is some connection to human trafficking.” His mouth tightened. “I can’t have Dixie spending time in a place with so much violence. I need her. Ava needs her.”

  Breck gave a slight shake of his head. “Tell her not to worry. I don’t think her father would want her to be in harm’s way. When this is all over, we’ll see about her taking up the reins again. She’s smart, and I’m sure she’ll get it under control.”

  “Good deal,” Beau said. “I’m trying to help out a little. Pete is completely overwhelmed…but Dixie is obsessed with her father’s murder. I’m afraid she just can’t leave it to the sheriff. Patience is not one of her virtues.”

  Breck let out a derisive snort. “Good luck with that. I know all about Dixie’s lack of patience. I was surprised she came back to Langston after her little blowup during the reading of the will.”

  “Well, it took her by surprise, but she’s here now, and so is Ava, so we’re trying to make the best of it.”

  Breck touched the brim of his Stetson in a salute. “Good luck with that too, Beau.” He stepped away from the truck and walked back across the street toward his office.

  Beau shifted into gear, drove the few blocks to the elementary school, and parked. He knew that Gracie was expecting him to pick her up for a sleepover, but he was antsy, so he got out and leaned up against the hood of the truck. He figured he would be able to spot Gracie the moment she emerged from the building. There was a queue of yellow buses lined up on one side of the school. Other vehicles lined up behind his truck, he presumed driven by parents. In due time, a loud buzzer sounded, and students were released. The doors opened, and children seemed to all pour out at once. Adults exited too, apparently to monitor the exodus.

  Beau pushed away from the hood, craning his neck to check out the students. He’d thought it would be easy to spot Gracie’s mop of blonde curls, but there were a confusing riot of fair-haired youngsters mixed in among the brunettes and a few redheads.

  “Uncle Beau?” And there she was, standing at his side, looking fresh-faced and eager. She had a backpack and a small duffel bag clutched in her hands.

  He flashed a grin. “There you are. Ava is so glad you’re coming for a sleepover. Are you ready?” He reached for her book bag. “This is heavy. How do you carry around all this stuff?” Beau opened the back passenger door of his truck.

  Gracie shrugged then climbed up with Beau’s help. “I got a couple of books from the school library today. I thought Ava might like me to read some to her.”

  It’s going to be a great night at the Moore house.

  Chapter 18

  Dixie paced around her house. She had spent the morning putting masking tape on the woodwork in Ava’s room. She really wanted to get the painting over with and start making the room into a little girl’s delight. But she also knew that she couldn’t begin rolling paint on the walls until Ty and Leah returned from their trip to Mexico. Not a good idea to begin a redecorating project with a young houseguest.

  The color was to be purple, all right, but fortunately Beau had convinced Ava that the palest lilac would be the best choice. He’d told her that all true princesses had their bedrooms painted that exact color.

  Dixie picked up her phone and replaced it on the dining table several times in succession. She was torn, knowing Beau would be furious with her if she made any move to try to find out who murdered her father and tried to murder Scott. Although Sheriff Rollins seemed to think the two events weren’t related, she knew better. She picked up her phone again but placed it back on the table, clasping her hands together.

  Making a loop of the house, she made sure she was prepared to entertain an eight-year-old houseguest. There was plenty of food on hand, Ava’s room was all made up with fresh sheets, and several flavors of ice cream were stashed in the freezer.

  The bunnies had been fed and their hutch cleaned. Nothing else to do…

  Ava was wound up like a tightly coiled spring. She kept running to the front of the house to peer out the windows, eager for Gracie’s arrival.

  Resolutely, Dixie picked up the phone and punched in the numbers to the feed store. Of course, Pete answered.

  “Hey, Pete. It’s Dixie. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Why, of course, Miz Dixie. What can I do for you today?” He sounded less morose than usual.

  “I want to talk to your cousin, Josh. I understand you can get in touch with him?”

  * * *

  When Beau pulled up close to the Moore house, he had one very excited little girl in the backseat.

  Gracie was grinning and leaning forward to peer out the windows. “This is where Ava lives? This is a nice ranch. Does she have horses? We have horses and chickens too.”

  “Yes, we do.” Beau grinned at her in the mirror. She seemed to have forgotten that he lived on the Garrett ranch too and had grown up there. “Let’s go inside and get an after-school snack. I’m sure Dixie has something special for you.” He climbed down and went around to open the truck door for her. She leaned out into his arms, and he swung her down then grabbed her backpack and duffel.

  The front door of the house burst open, and Ava came racing out, a wide grin spread across her face. “You’re here,” she shouted.
>
  Gracie ran toward her, and they clasped each other like long-lost friends.

  “I’ve never gone on a sleepover before,” Gracie said.

  Ava squealed her delight. “Me neither!”

  Beau cocked his head toward the front door Ava had left open. “Let’s go inside, girls. This sleepover thing sounds like fun.”

  When he turned, he found Dixie leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded across her chest. She was trying to suppress a grin.

  “Really, Mr. Garrett? I seem to remember you as being quite good at sleepovers.”

  * * *

  It seemed they had been driving forever. Big Jim was thankful that his daughter-in-law seemed to have some magic powers when it came to breaking through to kids. Indeed, she had enchanted the two girls in the backseat.

  There had been a significant number of stops for gas and food and bathroom breaks, so everyone was quite comfortable.

  Big Jim thought it interesting that, wherever they stopped, people accepted that they were a family. He took a deep breath and acknowledged that a beautiful family could be blended when the uniting factor was love. He considered Leah’s daughter, Gracie, who had been officially adopted by his son Tyler and by all the members of the Garrett family. Gracie was as dear to Big Jim as if she were a Garrett by blood.

  When Colton had married Misty, her orphaned twelve-year-old brother Mark had also become a part of the Garrett family. Big Jim thought of Mark as officially a Garrett.

  And now there was Ava. He was thrilled to have the little redheaded heartbreaker in his life. He knew his youngest son, Beau, was over the moon. Big Jim needed to adjust his thinking about Beau and stop characterizing him as being the baby of the family. He was a full-grown man and was taking on his new responsibilities admirably. Fatherhood seemed to suit him. Perhaps, if things went the way Big Jim hoped, there would be more little redheaded grandchildren.

  His only concern was Dixie.

  This was the girl who had walked out on Big Jim’s friend, Vern, and broken his son’s young heart. It was hard for a father to forgive the person who had caused so much misery.