by Kim Redford
“Value is probably about a thousand, give or take.” Rowdy really regretted the bad luck, but if he was honest with himself, he had to admit it tied perfectly into the whole slowdown.
“What are the chances of catching the thieves?” Belle asked as she started writing on the questionnaire.
“I’d like to say we’ll nab them in a few days, but we’ve had a rash of small burglaries all over the county, and they’ve kept us running here and there.”
“Any luck catching them?” Rowdy asked.
“No. They’re monitoring our radios, so we’ve gone to using our cell phones.”
“Sounds either organized or clever or opportunistic,” Rowdy said.
“Most likely all of them.” Sheriff Calhoun took several photographs of the crime scene, and then he examined the entire front lawn.
“Inside or outside houses?” Rowdy asked.
“Both. That’s not good, but none of it is.”
“It sure isn’t.” Rowdy couldn’t help but think about Belle living alone. What if the burglars forced entry? He needed to discuss her security system with her and get it ramped up pronto.
Sheriff Calhoun glanced at the house. “My major concern is your safety. You don’t have surveillance cameras that would’ve captured video of the thieves, do you?”
“No. It never even entered my mind,” Belle said.
“They didn’t get all the shingles.” Sheriff Calhoun gave her a direct look with a lot of meaning behind it.
“Do you think they might come back?” she asked.
“Shingles are expensive. The thieves probably think if they lucked out one time they might again,” Sheriff Calhoun said.
“I wish I didn’t agree, but I do.” Rowdy glanced around, considering the house and grounds from a security standpoint.
Sheriff Calhoun pointed at the roofline above the front door. “You could install a simple camera up there. Even a dummy camera would be better than nothing since it’d make thieves think twice before bothering your property.”
“When I moved in here, there wasn’t a surveillance camera, so it didn’t even enter my mind to get one installed on the house.” Belle looked up at the front eave, too. “Anyway, I thought everything was perfectly safe here.”
“For the most part, it is,” Sheriff Calhoun said. “But there are always a few troublemakers.”
“I can install a motion-sensor camera in the next few days. A light that comes on when it detects motion would be a good idea, too.” Rowdy glanced at Belle to make sure she wanted him involved in her security.
“Good idea,” Sheriff Calhoun said. “I wish we had photos of the thieves right now. That way we’d stand a better chance of catching them, although they could be from out of the county and not known to us. Yet.”
“I wish you had photos, too.” Belle stopped filling out the form to look up. “I’ve been so busy trying to put the place in order that a camera didn’t even reach my to-do list.”
“I’d say it’d be a good idea to get it on your list now.” Sheriff Calhoun patted the top of a stack of shingles. “You’ve got plenty of expensive construction material. You may not have seen the last of the thieves.”
“I think we ought to move everything out here to the barn, no matter how much trouble and time,” Rowdy said. “These shingle stacks would require a lift to move them in bulk, so they’ll have to wait.”
“Do what you can do.” Sheriff Calhoun nodded in agreement.
“I’ll help move stuff.” Belle walked over and handed the sheriff her completed form and his pen. “I hope this helps catch them.”
“It’s a start,” Sheriff Calhoun said. “If you have any more trouble, call me. And stay safe.”
Rowdy watched the sheriff walk to his cruiser, get in, and drive back toward Wildcat Road.
“What a mess,” Belle said. “Can’t anything go right on this project?”
“I’m about to finish painting the trim.”
“And it looks good. Thank you.” She pointed at the five-gallon containers of paint and other assorted supplies. “I can carry the smaller items to the barn, but I can’t lift those paint cans.”
“I’ll do it. I’ll get the gutters, too.” He glanced toward the small, red barn and back again. It wasn’t close by any means. “I bet there’s a wheelbarrow in there that’ll help cut down on time.”
“Good. Anything that’ll help us move stuff as fast as possible. We still need to get ready for Wildcat Hall.”
“Yeah.” He walked over to the long stack of gutter material. “If I’d been in control from the first, I’d never have left all of this out here.”
“It’s not your fault. Anyway, nobody thought it’d take so long to do this job. The other guys came and went until it all just piled up. I should have realized sooner that something needed to be done with it.”
“There’s no point in laying blame on anybody…except the thieves. We are where we are. Let’s deal with it.”
“I agree.”
He looked out toward Wildcat Road. “Another thing…I hate to bring it up, but we ought to consider it.”
“What?”
“You’re not near the road. For burglars to know you had material and supplies in front of your house, I’d guess they needed to use binoculars.”
“What!” She whirled toward Wildcat Road. “I don’t want to think that, but you’re right, or they know who is buying what and where it’s being delivered in the county.”
“Good point. I’ll make sure Sheriff Calhoun follows up on that idea, if he isn’t already on it.”
“Thanks.”
“In the meantime—”
“We move as much of this stuff as we can.”
“And if you like, I’ll get cameras installed tomorrow.”
“I’d very much like it and appreciate it.”
“Okay.” He turned toward the barn. “I’ll go get the wheelbarrow.”
“While you do that, I’ll gather up the smaller items.”
As he got up to leave, his phone rang, alerting him to possible trouble because it was the special ringtone for the fire department. He went on instant alert as he clicked to answer the call.
“Where are you?” Hedy asked in the no-nonsense voice she used when she handled firefighters.
“I’m at Belle’s place.”
“Good. I need you to check out a situation.”
“What? Where?”
“Got a call from a guy who said he thought he’d seen sparks by the side of the road down the highway from the Lazy Q Ranch.”
“That’s not much to go on.”
“I know, but somebody needs to check it out.”
“Do you think it’s a prank call?”
“Could be.” Hedy hesitated. “I’ve got a gut feeling about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes folks have nothing better to do than stir up trouble.”
“Tell me about it,” he said.
“Anyhow, will you drive down and take a look around that area?”
“I’m on it.”
“I’m happy to send out a rig, but not unless there’s real need.”
“You don’t need to explain it to me. We’re all volunteers, and the last thing we want to do is waste our time,” he said.
“Right.”
“I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thanks.”
He clicked off and glanced over at Belle.
“Fire?”
“Maybe.”
“Around here?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going to drive down to Wildcat Road and see what I can see. If there’s trouble, I’ll let you and Hedy know.”
“Do you need me to do
anything?”
“Not yet.”
He hurried around the side of the house, got in his pickup, and raced down to Wildcat Road. He drove slowly along the highway, checking out the short, dry grass on the downward slope. He looked for a wisp of curling smoke, a red-orange blaze, or even a tiny spark that glinted in the sunlight. Nothing. He kept going, mile after mile, even when he didn’t see anything that registered as danger.
Finally, he decided there was nothing in that direction, so he made a U-turn and headed back the other direction. He drove even slower, watching closely for something that would trigger his instincts, but again, he didn’t see anything that set off alarm bells. He passed the entrance to Belle’s ranch and kept going. He wasn’t about to let any possible fire slip past him. He drove for miles before he turned back and headed down the other side of the highway, staying on high alert as he scanned the side of the road. Still nothing. He ought to have felt glad, but it irritated him that somebody with nothing better to do was playing a prank to cause trouble.
He didn’t want to think it, but he had to wonder if the thieves had set them up by making the call to confuse matters at the house. He hoped not. Still, either way, it was good that he hadn’t found a fire.
He turned off the road, passed under the Lulabelle & You Ranch sign, and stopped in the middle of the narrow lane. He picked up his phone and hit speed dial for the fire station.
“What’d you find?” Hedy asked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s good. Prank call. I had a feeling about it.”
“Guess so. Still, I don’t like it so close to Belle’s house.”
“Best keep an eye out.”
“Will do.”
“Later.” And Hedy was gone.
He tucked his phone back in his pocket, feeling uneasy about the false alarm, but there was nothing he could do about it. He drove on up to the house, parked, and got out. He looked at the mess on the front lawn and shook his head. Plenty to take care of here.
He walked to the back of the house, but he didn’t see Belle, so he pulled out his cell and called her.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as she answered her phone.
“No fire.”
“Good.”
“I’ll get back to what I was doing. First thing I’ll check out the barn and make room for the supplies.”
“Do you need help?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll join you in a moment. I’m inside getting another canvas bag since I already filled up one.”
“Okay.”
As he passed the back of the house, he glanced over at her table and chairs. She wanted a fancy patio for her party. It’d require heavy physical labor to dig up the sod, put down sand, and position the heavy stones, but it’d be worth it to see her eyes light up with pleasure. As far as an outdoor kitchen and a firepit, he’d like to install those for her, too.
He forced his gaze back to the barn, pushing helpful thoughts down into the abyss of all he wasn’t supposed to be doing here. No doubt about it, he wanted to please her. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to see him as capable, not as a guy who couldn’t get anything done. Of course, that wasn’t happening. Now he was the one who’d been overseeing the job when her shingles were stolen, so it’d cost her more in the long run.
Still, how she saw him, one way or another, didn’t matter…not so long as she was safe.
He opened the barn door and stepped into the shadowy interior. What a mess. It obviously hadn’t been used for anything but storage in a long time…not that anything was worth all that much, but ranchers and farmers always kept extra material just in case they needed it.
He flipped on an interior light, looked around, and saw a wheelbarrow under a pile of odds and ends of lumber with rolls of electrical wire, baling wire, gauge field wire, and barbed wire piled on top of it. He’d have to move everything to get to the wheelbarrow, and there was no good place to put the stuff when he moved it because he needed all the available floor space for the gutter material, paint cans, and everything else. Maybe the best thing to do was for her to go ahead and hand-carry small items while he moved the big pieces.
As he turned to leave, she walked inside carrying a canvas grocery bag that she’d filled up.
“I decided the wheelbarrow was a lost cause.”
She glanced at the situation and nodded in agreement. “Where do you want me to put this stuff?”
“Over in that corner. I need the floor space for your gutter system.”
“Okay.” She started taking material out of the bag and stacking it neatly against a wall.
As he moved a couple of two-by-fours to make more room, he heard the flutter of wings. He glanced up and saw Homer descending from the square-cut hole in the ceiling that led by a staircase to the loft above. He landed on Rowdy’s shoulder and nestled against his neck.
Belle emptied her bag and looked at them. “Hey, Homer. How are you doing?”
Homer cooed in response.
“I bet he’s getting lonely.” Rowdy stroked soft breast feathers. “Pigeons are social, and he’s used to being part of a community.”
“Do we need to take him back to Doris?”
“Not yet.” He didn’t say because he wasn’t sure, but he figured the Buick Brigade would send more pigeons Belle’s way sooner rather than later.
“If we get time, maybe we should come out and see him.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Do they bond with people?”
“Absolutely.”
She set down her bag, walked over, and raised her hand. “Do you think he’ll let me pet him?”
“I don’t see why not.”
She tentatively placed the first fingertip of her right hand on Homer’s head and stroked down about an inch.
Homer cooed what sounded like encouragement.
“You can stroke down his back and belly. He’ll like it.”
“He won’t bite me?”
“No.” Rowdy smiled, feeling tender toward her at the hesitancy.
He realized she would be fine with a big animal like a horse or cow, even a dog or cat. Folks not used to smaller birds could think them delicate, but they were strong and swift. And wary. In this case, Homer obviously liked and trusted Belle, and that went a long way toward developing a relationship. He was happy for them because neither needed to be alone when they could share life with another.
That thought brought him up short. He was just as alone, even with his father and friends, as these two were now. He held back a sigh. He wanted more in life. He wanted her to be stroking him like she was the oh-so-lucky Homer. But he was the guy set to make her life miserable while the bird made her happy. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.
When she stroked down to Homer’s wing, he turned his head and gently nipped her with his pointed beak. She jerked back, eyes wide open.
“Oh, no. Did I hurt him?”
Homer ruffled his feathers and leaned into Rowdy’s neck.
“He was just showing you affection. If he’d meant to warn you off, he’d have pinched your skin.” Rowdy chuckled in remembrance. “I can tell you right now it can hurt. For his size, he has powerful muscles and can apply a lot of pressure.”
“Okay.” She stepped closer and reached up to stroke down Homer’s head to his back and down to his tail. “His feathers are so soft.”
But Rowdy had ceased to think about birds or feathers because as she stroked over and over she was also touching his neck…so light and airy as to be almost imperceptible but with such an impact that he felt his body tingle and tighten and harden in response. Bare skin to bare skin. Not much. Hardly there. And yet enough to give him an idea of just how strong their reaction would be if they ever really touched each other.
He could hardly stand still. He wanted to
wrap her in his arms. He wanted to find the nearest bales of hay. He wanted to take this feeling to its completion, joining them so closely that there could never be a coming apart.
“You’re so handsome,” she said in a singsong voice. “I could just kiss you.”
Rowdy wanted her to talk to him like she was talking to Homer.
“You’re my very own good boy, aren’t you?”
Rowdy wanted very much to show her what a very good boy like him could do for her.
“I’d like to hold you and cuddle you so very close and tight.”
Rowdy wanted her to say those words to him…needed it in the most fundamental way possible.
And then more of his poem came full-blown into his mind. A cowgirl clothed in red bandana. Daytime. Nighttime. Anytime.
“Do you think Homer would let me hold him?” she asked, still stroking down his feathers.
“I think he’d like it.” Rowdy didn’t add that he’d like it, too, because he could feel her fingers touching his neck with each stroke, building up heat and desire and want of a kind he’d never experienced before. If not for his subterfuge, he might’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world. As it was, he simply picked up Homer, careful to hold his wings to his sides, and set him on Belle’s shoulder.
Homer cooed in contentment, snuggled up against her neck, rubbed the tip of his beak against her cheek, and then gave Rowdy a look from a big, round eye of one male to another when he’d just won the prize of love.
Rowdy had to admit he’d lost this round to a bird…a very handsome bird, but still a bird.
Chapter 17
Wildcat Hall Park, the famous North Texas historic dance hall and cowboy cabins, was a jumping place on Saturday night.
While Rowdy drove around the large, concrete parking lot full of pickups and one-ton or two-ton trucks searching for a place to park, Belle studied the area. She was impressed with the cowboy cabins that were lit by carriage lamps on tall poles under green live oak trees.
The five rental cabins appeared to be made of recycled materials from deconstructed old houses and barns as well as items from junk stores and reclaimed materials. The cabins had rusty corrugated tin for roofs, weathered barn wood for siding, and natural stone for entry stairs leading up to porches. All the windows and doors looked repurposed since they were different shapes, sizes, and colors.
