by Kim Redford
“Me?”
“No guy should ever think he has the right to drive up to your house, steal your things, and endanger you. It’s not right… I won’t allow it.”
“Allow it?”
“Yeah.”
He caught up to the truck again, thankful he was driving his own pickup with its satisfying big engine instead of the rattletrap that would have conked out on him from the get-go.
“Do you want me to shoot out their tires?”
“Can you do it?”
“Maybe…but it’d be chancy with that guy back there. I don’t want to send shingle thieves to the hospital.”
“It’d be a lot of paperwork.”
“And I don’t have time for it.”
“Okay. Let’s see if I can sideswipe them and push them off the road.”
“You’ll damage your paint. It’ll be a more expensive repair than the shingles are worth.”
“It’s personal now.”
He roared up to the back of the truck, checked to see that the road was clear ahead, and angled to pull up beside them. He didn’t get far when the guy in back reached down, ripped open another package, jerked out a shingle, and let it fly. It hit the cowcatcher and fell harmlessly to the side.
“Please let them go,” Belle said. “Next time you may not be so lucky. I’m worried about you. He can hit your face now. If he does, it’ll feel like the hard edge of a clay tile…and could do serious damage to you.”
“Hate to let them go, but you’re right.” Rowdy eased off the accelerator and watched the truck roar away.
“Thank you.”
He pulled off to the side of the road and stopped his pickup. He left his headlights on, opened his door, jumped down, and shook the glass off the front of his clothes as he watched the thieves get away.
“Guess that’s that.” Belle leaned over the seat and looked out the open door at him.
He gave a big, long sigh. “One thing, I doubt we’ll ever see their mangy hides again.”
“True.” She glanced down at the Sig. “We didn’t remember to get their license plate number.”
“No point. It was covered in mud.”
“They’ve been at this rodeo a time or two before, haven’t they?”
“Sure looks that way.”
He jerked the shingle from under his windshield wiper and tossed it in the back of his pickup. Maybe tomorrow in daylight they could salvage some of the others that had landed beside the road. At least they got one back for sure, if it wasn’t too damaged to use on the house. As he walked toward his open door, he heard the growl of an engine coming from the direction the thieves had disappeared into the night. He stopped to watch because he thought it might be Sheriff Calhoun or one of his deputies, although it sounded like a one-ton, not an SUV or cruiser.
“Do you want me to contact the sheriff again?” Belle called from inside the cab.
“I’m waiting to see if this could be him coming to us now.”
“Okay.” She slid the Sig under her seat and then leaned forward to peer out the front window.
He realized it wasn’t the sheriff a little bit late because the now-too-familiar truck roared up, slowed down, and slid across the road. The driver’s window came down, and a hand flung out a jar with a burning bandana sticking out of it before the truck roared off into the distance again. The bottle hit the cement highway with force and broke into small pieces. A red-orange blaze leaped up like an angry animal, spreading fast across the dry grass and toward Rowdy.
He stepped back, but his jeans were almost instantly engulfed in flames. He slapped at his lower legs with his hands, feeling the heat and the burning but knowing he couldn’t allow the fire to spread over his body. Fortunately he was wearing jeans made of thick fabric that helped protect his legs.
“Rowdy!” Belle yelled as she opened her door, jumped down, and ran around to him. She stomped the fire out of the burning bandana with the soles of her boots.
“Get the fire extinguisher off the back floorboard.”
“Will do…but can you believe it? That’s another use for a bandana. Molotov cocktail!” She wrenched open the back door and grabbed the canister.
“Not funny.” He slapped at his clothes with his bare hands to put out the fire and stomped on the ground to keep the flames from spreading to his pickup.
“Yeah.” She turned toward him. “What now?”
“Pull the pin and spray me.”
She jerked out the pin, aimed the nozzle, and sprayed chemical over his legs and the ground around him.
He felt immediate relief, although he knew he’d been burned but not how badly. “Use the whole can. Make sure the fire’s completely out.”
“I’m doing it.” She kicked a shard of glass to one side. “Looks like a mason jar. Do you suppose it’s the same guys who started that other fire?”
“No way to know for sure, but I bet that was moonshine—maybe one hundred proof—because it burned hot and fast.” He grabbed a flashlight out of the back floorboard and felt pain stab his palms. He ignored it as he turned on the light and checked the area while she continued to spray.
“I think the blaze is out.”
“Looks good.” He examined the area one more time before he was satisfied they weren’t leaving any dangerous embers.
She emptied the can and then set it on the back floorboard.
“Let’s go.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Sheriff Calhoun?”
“No. We can see this easier in the morning.” He tossed the flashlight on the back seat and shut the door. “I want us out of here right now.”
“Why?”
“They might come back to see how much damage they caused, and if it’s not enough—”
“Let’s go.” She hurried around and got into the pickup.
He took one more look around before he sat down beside her and started the engine. He felt better with them inside for the protection. Still, he didn’t like being out here. Even worse, what if the thieves had gone back to her house and waited for them there? Those two guys had gone way beyond stealing a few shingles. He supposed he’d made them mad by not just rolling over and letting them take whatever they wanted at her home. Wasn’t going to happen…not now, not ever.
“Belle, would you call the sheriff?”
“Sure.”
“Tell him there’s been an uptick in the situation.”
“Okay.” She glanced at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I want you safe.” He turned his pickup around and headed back.
“I am now.”
“Just call the sheriff.”
She hit speed dial again and then speakerphone. “Sheriff Calhoun, it’s Belle Tarleton again. Rowdy is here, too.”
“Sorry it took me so long. I’m getting to your place right now.”
“Good,” Rowdy said. “Are you on Wildcat Road?”
“I’m turning off it as we speak.”
“Be on the lookout for a red truck with a black cowcatcher,” Rowdy said.
“Up by the house?” Sheriff Calhoun’s voice ratcheted up a notch in timbre.
“Yes. It’s probably not there, but just in case.”
“I take it you’ve had a little more trouble,” Sheriff Calhoun said.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll see you in a moment. And thanks.” Belle slipped her phone back into her purse.
Rowdy made a sharp turn off Wildcat Road and headed toward the house. He could see the sheriff pulling to a stop in front. He was glad to see the new motion-sensor light had come on over the front doors so there was illumination across the front lawn in addition to his headlights. He parked behind the sheriff’s SUV.
She quickly opened her door, stepped down, and headed to where Sheriff Calhoun was exiting his cruiser.<
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Rowdy got out, but he took his time walking over to them so he could get a good look around the area. He didn’t see anything suspicious beyond the fact that more shingles were missing, but it was obvious the thieves had been disturbed in the act since they hadn’t taken an entire stack this time.
“Sheriff, we chased those thieves down the road, but they got away.” Belle pointed toward Wildcat Road.
“You chased them?” Sheriff Calhoun looked from one to the other. “You think that was wise?”
“We caught them in the act,” Rowdy said. “We were in my pickup, so I just took out after them. I thought maybe they’d stop if we caught up to them.”
“There was a guy in back who threw shingles at us.” She sounded incensed at the idea. “My shingles, no less.”
Sheriff Calhoun shook his head. “You could’ve been hurt.”
“Just the pickup.” Rowdy gestured toward his ruined windshield.
“That’s replaceable,” Sheriff Calhoun said. “Your lives are not.”
“You’re right.” Rowdy shrugged. “I hate to say it, but I let my anger take over.”
“It happens to the best of us.” Sheriff Calhoun shook his head, as if remembering his own past behavior.
“I’m sorry, but we didn’t get a license plate number,” Belle said. “They’d spread mud over the numbers.”
“We stopped by the side of the road.” Rowdy picked up the story. “They came back and threw a jar at us. They’d stuffed a bandana in a flammable liquid—most likely white lightning because of the way it burned—and set it on fire.”
“Any injuries…besides your pickup?” Sheriff Calhoun looked at Rowdy in concern.
“Let me check.” He walked over and held his palms out to catch the strong illumination of the headlights so he could evaluate his medical condition. Fortunately he was an EMT as well as a firefighter. He noted red skin like sunburn on his palms and a few small blisters on the sides of his hands where the skin was thinner and more sensitive, so he had limited second-degree burns, too.
“Rowdy?” Belle asked, motioning toward his hands.
“Do you need to go to the clinic?” Sheriff Calhoun asked.
“No. I’m okay. Superficial burns.” He turned to look at them. “Mostly first-degree.”
“Good,” Sheriff Calhoun said.
“Anyway, I have an EMT kit it in my truck.”
“I’ll take care of him.” Belle leaned into Rowdy and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
He smiled down at her and then turned his mind back to the business at hand. “Somebody from the fire department ought to check the scene and write up a report tomorrow,” Rowdy said. “I can do it.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll see to it.” Sheriff Calhoun glanced toward the shingle stacks. “I’ll take a written statement from you two then.”
“Okay,” Belle said. “I’m ready to do anything to help catch the thieves.”
“You two were lucky tonight.” Sheriff Calhoun looked from one to the other. “Those guys are escalating, and I don’t like it. I’ll be on the lookout for them. And you two be more careful.”
“We will,” Belle said.
Rowdy watched Sheriff Calhoun get in his cruiser and drive away. The sheriff was right. He should be more careful, particularly when Belle was with him. But he’d been so mad…and then they’d taunted him. Still, safety should come first, and as a first responder, he knew that fact only too well. He’d just gotten so protective of her that reason had flown out the window.
He hesitated, not wanting to push too far, too fast, but reason had already fled, so he plunged ahead. “I don’t want to leave you alone tonight.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Come inside. I’ll take care of you.”
Chapter 20
Belle sat beside Rowdy at the kitchen table. They were so close together she could feel the heat of his body and smell the smoke on the fabric of his singed jeans. He’d placed both hands on the tabletop with palms turned upward. They were red with only a few small blisters along the edges. He was quiet, his breathing easy as she gently cleansed dirt and debris away with a soft cloth.
She felt tenderness well up in her, a softening of her heart and her entire being. She’d felt desire before…strong and willful when her body tried to overpower her mind, but this with him was so much more than passion. She didn’t understand quite how it had happened. Sometimes she felt as if it’d been instant attraction, but other times she felt as if she’d been coming to him for her entire life.
Now that they were alone in her house with everything and everybody that could distract them outside, she felt almost shy in his presence. It was so unlike her. Still, he brought out aspects of her that usually remained hidden or dormant or out of reach. He simply had a profound impact on her. Perhaps because he had so many facets, as if he were a stone that had been cut and buffed into a precious gem that glittered no matter which way she turned it and yet at its heart remained its original solid, indestructible core.
Trust. She’d come to trust him, as she had no one else but her family. When she thought about it, he felt like family…her very own family. She couldn’t imagine ever being apart from him.
Love. Had love snuck up on her or arrived full-blown? Was this what it felt like to not just want to be with someone but to need to be with them to feel complete and happy? At the thought of love, that tenderness in her heart bloomed like a flower unfolding its petals in the warmth of the sun.
Life. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt as alive as she did with him…each moment to be savored like fine wine. Every little twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her with so much happiness. Every little smile that was just for her and revealed the delightful dimple in his cheek. Every little moment when he appeared to be on the edge of offering so much more to her.
And yet she actually knew little about him, even as she felt she knew everything she needed to know about him. She might be wrong. She might be wearing her heart on her sleeve. She might be putting her trust in the wrong man. But for tonight, she wasn’t going to back away. She’d take a chance. And so she turned her mind back to the current situation.
“Do you want me to put anything on your hands?”
“Check in the EMT kit for the blue tube of antimicrobial ointment.”
“Okay.” She opened the kit, found the tube, and squeezed out the soft, white cream. She gently rubbed it over his palms and the sides of his hands, watching his skin quickly absorb it. “How does that feel?”
“Good. Thanks.”
She put the tube back and then looked him over. “Are you in pain?”
“My palms sting, but not too bad.”
She checked the EMT kit again and found a bottle of over-the-counter pain medication. “You ought to take a couple of these pills.”
“Okay.” He smiled at her. “You’re the EMT in charge tonight.”
“That’s exactly right.” She gave him a teasing glance before she walked over to the sink, filled a glass with water, came back, and set the glass before him.
He downed the pills and then the entire contents of the glass before handing it back to her.
“Good. I’m feeling better about your injuries.” She looked him over again. “But what about your shins?”
“They’re okay, I think. They need to be cleaned, too, but that’d require—”
“A shower.”
“I suppose I better head home and get one.”
“Didn’t I promise to take care of you?”
“You’re getting into above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Do you have a change of clothes, or at least jeans, in the truck? I’d guess you don’t since you borrowed it.”
“I’m a volunteer firefighter. I always carry extra clothes, EMT kit, and at least one fire extinguisher wherever I go.”
> “That’s good.”
“You just never know when disaster might strike.”
She nodded in understanding as she set aside the used cloth. “Why don’t you take a shower while I run out to the truck and get your clothes?”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t think you should go home where you’ll be alone. You might develop a fever or something that needs immediate care later in the night.”
“I want to stay here, but I don’t want to be a bother or impose or—”
“You’re staying.” She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Let me take care of you like you’ve taken care of my home.”
He smiled, revealing his dimple. “There’s a small duffel bag behind the front seat.”
She stood up. “You know the layout of my home as well as I do. Why don’t you use the shower off my bedroom, since it’s the biggest one?”
“Okay.”
“Towels are in the cabinet. You’ll find everything you need there.”
“Thanks.”
She stood up. “Is your pickup unlocked?”
“Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys with an attached remote control.
She held out her hand, but he didn’t drop them into her palm. Instead, he set them there and then slowly slid his fingers away, leaving a trail of heat behind him. She felt that heat all the way to her core. She stepped back, thinking she needed to get to his pickup and back as quickly as possible…but the heat stayed with her in the warmth of his keys.
He stood up, too, giving her a long, hot look. “If you need me, I’ll be in your shower.”
Oh, she needed him, all right, but first things first. She got out of there as quickly as possible, wanting him more than she could’ve imagined possible.
Once outside, she gratefully inhaled the cool night air. Mind over matter. She was glad for the bright porch light. She glanced around to make sure those shingle-stealing guys weren’t lurking in their truck someplace nearby. She hoped they had the sense never to darken her doorstep again. She didn’t see anything amiss, so she figured maybe they were gone for good.
