True-Blue Texas Cowboy

by Janalyn Knight

  Standing, she offered her hand.

  Theron, with a slight hesitation, shook it with a quick dip of his own small hand.

  She said, "Yes, if you have a few minutes, I'll bring you up to speed."

  "Come in. I have a short time before my next appointment."

  She shut the door behind her before Mr. Sleazy could slip his ugly mug in on the meeting and sat down in the beautiful, but uncomfortable, oak chair near the window. Outside, the church members worked in the garden and orchard.

  "So, why don't you tell me what you came here to say? I've got lots ahead of me today, and I need to get to it," Theron urged in an impatient voice. He stood in front of her, in her space, trying to intimidate her.

  She splayed her legs out straight, getting in his space, put her hands behind her head, and leaned back in her chair. "Well, I've found out some more information about the girl I discovered in my pasture. It appears her angel-wings tattoo is quite distinctive—not your everyday art."

  Hoping for a reaction, she said, "I've turned over detailed photos of it to a couple of my Trooper buddies, and they've got some strong leads on where it might have been done. You know, the artist who created it? If they pan out, we should be able to trace the girl—find out who she is, where she came from, that kind of thing."

  Deadpan, Theron responded, "Why on earth do you think I'd be interested in this information, Lee? I told you, no one here knows this person."

  She shoved at his resistance. "Well, that's the thing, Theron. I'd like to ask around today, and make sure. People have had some time to think about it now. Especially since we know how distinctive that tattoo is, if anyone here has seen it or the tattoo on her shoulder, they'll remember it. Surely a few questions won't hurt."

  He wasn't budging, so she went on. "You have a loving community, and these folks would do anything to help a girl like this return to her family. I'm sure you'll agree, this is critically important. As a God-loving and God-fearing man, Theron, you've got to do everything in your power to identify this girl."

  The bastard looked stone-cold blank. Only his eyes showed the merest hint of his icy anger. He turned those eyes from her and stared out at the people working in the garden. Finally, he said, "Very well, Lee, ask your questions. But no photos. I won't have my people upset with pictures of a dead body. Do this quickly. Also, hear me—you are no longer welcome here, as this seems to be the only subject that interests you when you come."

  She took her leave, descending the stairs fast to ensure Kenneth didn't follow her. Striding through the meeting hall, she exited the doors to the garden area, sure that Theron would be watching her every move.

  She approached several different women working with the vegetables and asked each in turn if she remembered a young woman who had angel wings tattooed on her back or a tattoo which might read 'The Lord is My Shepherd' on her shoulder. All looked either unsure—or possibly intimidated—about answering her question. They must know they were being watched. Each negative response built Lee’s frustration.

  Maybe she should try her luck at the orchard. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned. Rachel Parish came toward Lee with a pitcher of ice water and some paper cups. Lee said, "Rachel, so good to see you. I'm Lee Granger. We met at the grocery store?" Lee walked beside her as she made her way toward the orchard.

  Rachel nodded. "Yes. I remember."

  Lee said, "I've just left Theron's office. He gave me permission to ask people here if they knew the girl I told you about. I was wondering if you've had time to think about it. Or, did you ask anyone if they remembered a girl like that?"

  Rachel stayed quiet. They neared the first tree, and she stopped. "I've thought about this thing you've asked. I've kept your number. Should anything occur to me, I'll contact you. Good day to you, Ms. Granger."

  Lee thought for sure Rachel was going to tell her something. Dammit. Lee continued into the grove of young trees and asked a couple of men her questions and received the same negative response.

  After asking the receptionist to notify the gate, she left the compound. She could almost feel the bastard smirking at her.

  KENNETH STOOD BY THERON as he watched Lee move from person to person, asking her questions. It didn't appear she’d received much help. When she approached Helen, Theron picked up his binoculars. Kenneth edged away from his boss who kept his binoculars on Lee as she moved on to the two young guys working with the trees.

  When Lee left the outdoor area, Theron turned his angry gaze to Kenneth.

  Oh, shit. Kenneth shivered.

  Through gritted teeth, Theron said, "Shut the door."

  When Kenneth scurried back, Theron said succinctly, "I want that bitch taught a lesson, and if it's a permanent one, it won't hurt my feelings. Find someone to shoot at her while she's out working her cattle or something of the sort. Don't use one of our guys—I want no traces back to us. I'll give you cash. I'm sure you can handle this."

  Kenneth smiled, looking forward to this assignment. Lee thought she was better than everyone else, including him. "I have a guy in mind. He mouthed off about her in town while I was buying feed for the goats. He looks rough and holds a mean grudge. I'll sound him out."

  "Okay, but remember, no ties to us."

  Kenneth cleared his desk and left for Bentwood, figuring the old guy in the Ag Products should know how to get in touch with the man.

  Not long after, Kenneth drove up to the feed store and he was in luck, only one truck was backed up to the loading dock. There would be no one to overhear the old deaf coot when Kenneth asked his questions.

  He entered the store, the cow bells clattering as he pulled the door open.

  The old man looked up from the Farmer's Almanac he was reading. "Hello there. What can I do you for?"

  Kenneth forced a smile. "Actually, I'm looking for some information."

  The old guy squinted at him, probably trying to place him.

  Kenneth said, "I was in here the other day and saw a gentleman visiting with you. I thought that since it was a work day, and he was in here, that he might be looking for a job. I need a few days' work done, and he looked capable. The guy I'm talking about was in a black biker-type vest, had on jeans and boots and had some tattoos. He also wore a cowboy hat."

  Bill nodded. "Yeah, that'd be Tyler Burke. He's a drunk when he's in between jobs. If it's day work you have, though, he'll do good work for ya." Bill peered through the smoke curling up from the cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

  "Great. How can I reach him?" Surely the old gossip would have the information Kenneth needed.

  "Well, he's usually in one of three places during the day." He held up three fingers. "Here, which he ain't, or over to the auto parts place, shooting the shit, or out to Early's, which is the bar just over the county line, past Woodbury. He rides a black motorcycle."

  "Thanks, I sure appreciate the information." Kenneth waved and walked back to the SUV. First, he drove by the auto parts place—no motorcycle. Leaving town, he drove through Woodbury until he saw the ramshackle bar appear on the right-hand side of the road. Sure enough, a black bike was parked outside in the front, along a row of trucks. He pulled up and parked right next to it.

  Entering the dimly-lit place, he cast his eyes around for the familiar, bloated face of Tyler Burke. The tiny room had seats for seven people at the bar, and boasted no tables, only refrigerators full of beer cartons and wine along the side wall. In one of those seats sat Burke, looking about half drunk. He was in deep conversation with the bar maid.

  Hale walked over and stood by him, all the seats being taken.

  Burke turned to look up at him, focusing his bloodshot eyes, probably trying to remember if he knew him from somewhere.

  Kenneth said, "I'd like to talk to you, Mr. Burke." The canned honky-tonk music made it hard to hear. "Outside, if you don't mind."

  "What about?"

  "About something you're going to want to hear—outside." Kenneth headed for the door.


  Burke followed him out.

  Kenneth walked over to his SUV and started the air conditioning, motioning Burke to get in the passenger side. The fewer people who saw them together, the better.

  Burke got in and stared at him with eyes a little out of focus.

  Disgusted, Kenneth said, "Listen, will you remember what I tell you, or am I wasting my time?"

  "I'll remember. What's this about anyway?"

  "It's about your friend, Lee Granger."

  "That bitch! She ain't no friend of mine!" Spittle ran down the corner of Burke's mouth.

  Kenneth frowned. "Fine. Then, your enemy, Lee Granger. I want her scared shitless, or worse, if you care to do it. Do you have a rifle?"

  "Sure, everybody around here does."

  "I assume you know where her place is. I want you to take some shots at her. Make them close or make them count. I don't care. There's $2,000 in it for you. A bonus for the real thing, I guess. Can you do it?"

  "Damn right I can do it. When do I start?"

  "Yesterday. Here's a thousand now." Kenneth handed him the cash and a business card. "This is my cell number. Call me when you've taken care of it, either way. I'll bring you the rest when it's done."

  Burke got out.

  Kenneth drove back toward town, hoping the idiot was sober enough to remember the instructions.

  THE HOUR AND A HALF drive to Abilene had gone by fast as Lee rehashed the visit to the compound. Once at the salon, she made a quick decision and changed her hairstyle, getting her hair trimmed and layered—a whole new look. She flew through her shopping at the mall and headed home. Now back on the Highway, the clock on the dash read seven fifteen. Searching her contacts, she dialed Jesse.

  After a couple of rings, he answered. "Hey there, beautiful. You're not home already, are you?"

  "Nope. Just got on 351 a few minutes ago. I'm heading that-a-way, though. I'd forgotten how much torture shopping was. My back is killing me, man. I decided to skip buying groceries. I'll head over to Graham and hit Wal-Mart in a day or two. If you need anything, let me know. I forgot all about asking you that this morning."

  "So, what did you buy?"

  "I did a hell of a lot of shopping. My feet feel like I walked over river rocks for three days."

  "So, you figure on being home around eight thirty?"

  Glancing at the clock again, she said, "Yeah, I think that should be about right. I'm sure Chowser's pissed."

  "What if I meet you at the house and give you a foot rub before you go to bed tonight?"

  "Oh, Jesse, you don't need to do that. I'm just bitching. You're already home and relaxed." She smiled, though, at the thought of seeing him.

  "Well, Jesus, Lee, I know I don't have to do it. I'd love to see you. I've been moping around all day."

  Grinning, she said, "Well, cowboy, who am I to turn down a foot rub? Come on over."

  She was glad Abigail at the salon had styled her hair. Feeling almost giddy, she slid in a Red Dirt CD.

  The windmill farm came into view on her left where the huge turbines turned their graceful arms, casting long shadows. The miles flew by as she anticipated the evening to come.

  Jesse hadn't arrived yet when she got home.

  Chowser stared through the living room window, mouth open, and tongue lolling to the side.

  She gathered as many bags as she could before heading into the garage. When she opened the mud room door, Chowser slammed her legs as he sped outside, payback because she'd left him in the house so long. He knew she hated that, the little shit.

  Dumping her load on the kitchen table, she returned to the truck for the rest. Chowser had made himself scarce. Never said the little guy wasn't smart.

  Dropping the bags on the table, she headed into the bathroom and started a bath before returning and pouring a much-needed glass of wine. She'd bought some amazing things today in Abilene. Tons of new clothes and a package of men's tube socks. Her holey ones were going in the trash. She stopped in at Ulta Beauty and bought new makeup. Splurging at Victoria's Secret, she found sexy bras and panties. At American Eagle, she'd purchased her sleep shirts and shorts. And, these were just a few of her new things.

  Pinning her hair up she made sure the door was unlocked before hopping into the tub.

  A few minutes later, she was drying off when Jesse called out to her. She opened the door and yelled, "Hey, I'm just getting out of my bath. I'll be right out."

  Finishing quickly, she put on her pretty, oriental-style robe, then headed to the kitchen.

  Jesse glanced at her and grinned.

  She scrunched up her face. "Oh, stop it." She poured some more wine in her glass. "Hey, I have beer for you. I stopped in Albany and bought some." Grabbing one out of the fridge, she popped the top and handed it to him. The jerk was still grinning. She punched his arm. "I said stop it!"

  He laughed. "I can't help it. You're so damn cute in your robe and with your hair all pinned up."

  Dammit! She'd forgotten her hair was up. Way to go, Lee. Sexy, real sexy. "I am not cute. I'm tired, so quit grinning at me, cowboy!" She grinned back. He was the cute one.

  Digging around in her packages, she came up with her t-shirt and shorts and her bag with the new panties in it. "I'll be back in a minute, and you better not be smiling!"

  "I'm not promising anything."

  Taking off her robe and pulling on her underwear, she realized she'd forgotten to bring the damn perfume. Where in the hell had her brain gone?

  As she slipped on the t-shirt and shorts, she looked down and saw she had a problem. She'd bought an extra-large shirt, but obviously not large enough. Her nipples were showing.

  She pushed them in with her fingers and held them a while. That was better, but how long would it last? Oh, hell. Shaking her head, she headed out to the living room again.

  She said, "Do you mind helping me carry my packages to the bedroom? I'll dump them by the closet until I have time to do something with them." Heading into the kitchen, she picked up some of the bags.

  He walked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, kissing her on her ear. "You're beautiful, butterfly. I like your new clothes." He pulled her around to face him. "Kiss me."

  Her hands moved, dropping the bags and finding his chest, then his shoulders and neck, pulling his sweet face to her. She kissed him, taking her time and enjoying his body pressing against her.

  Jesse brushed her hair away from her face. "You look pretty. You've done something with your hair. You did that today too, huh?"

  "Yeah. I'm glad you like it. I wondered if you would."

  He kissed her forehead. "I love everything about you, Lee Granger. Don't you ever doubt that. But I do like this new hair style. Oh, yes I do." He looked her over. "So, tell me, what hurts my butterfly?" and he grinned at her again.

  "Oh, I can choose?"

  "Why, yes ma'am. I'm here to serve."

  Grinning, she said, “Let me think on that, cowboy,” and went to the door and called Chowser in before he got made into coyote food.

  Asking Jesse if he wanted another beer, she topped off her wine to cool it down.

  He wrapped his arms around her and teased, "Hey, I thought I was giving you a massage of some kind."

  "I can live with that, cowboy."

  "I think ..." he paused. "I think I'll take some of the couch pillows, and we can work this out better on your bed."

  They both picked up pillows, and she followed him into the bedroom.

  "Okay," he directed as he piled the bed pillows at the top of the bed, "you lie here." He bundled the couch pillows at the bottom of the bed. "And I'll lie here and work on your feet first."

  She climbed on the bed and wiggled her toes at him as he settled on the bed, his feet pointing toward her.

  He pulled her legs and feet up on his lap.

  He grinned at her. "Tell me when it feels good, okay? And tell me if I hurt you, too."

  He swept her away as his strong, gentle hands massaged the balls of her f
eet. She couldn't remember when her last foot rub was—certainly before Wess was sick. It surprised her how sexy Jesse’s hands felt as they caressed and manipulated her feet.

  "You're forgetting to tell me how this feels, little one."

  "Ugh. You mean I have to think? I can't. This feels too good."

  He smiled. "Well, then I guess I'm doing my job right," and kept rubbing, inching up her ankles and into the muscles of her calves.

  She groaned with pleasure. Soft colors floated before her eyes. Heaven must be something like this, because this was one of the most beautiful feelings she could imagine.

  "Lee Granger?"

  "Mmm?"

  "I love you, butterfly."

  Eyes closed, she grinned like a crazy woman. This amazing man loved her. She peered in his direction, wishing the moonlight were brighter, needing to see his face clearly—to etch this moment in her brain. "Jesse, I'm still trying to figure out what I've done to deserve you. I love you, too."

  Kissing her toes, he came to her.

  Now the beautiful planes of his face showed clearly. She pushed the hair back from his forehead and kissed him. "I do love you, my sweet Jesse. Though I'm still getting used to the idea. Thanks for coming tonight. I kind of depend on you being here with me." Looking into his dark eyes, shadowed in the dim light, she whispered, "My head's spinning, this has happened so fast. You know?"

  He kissed her palm. "Me, too. It's a big change for me. But I'm loving every minute of it. You're what I've been waiting for. You fill me up, Lee. I'm happy."

  She hugged him fiercely, turning her head away, and closing her eyes. "I'm happy, too, Jesse. And so afraid."

  Rolling her onto her back, he cradled her face in his palm. "I promise you there's nothing to be afraid of. This will work out. God and I—we'll find a way. Trust Him."

  She whipped her head to the side. Why did he have to say that one damned thing? How could she trust the Being who took her sweet girl and her Wess in the most inhumane, cruel way possible? Tears boiled from her eyes, and she turned away from him on her side.