Cowboy Firefighter Christmas Kiss

by Kim Redford

  “More likely oats.” Jack laughed harder. “You’re a lucky man to get that kind of sire for free.”

  “That I am. And Fernando’s quite the lover, not the fighter…unless you make him mad.”

  “I take it you made him mad.”

  “When I got there, Fernando and my cows were licking each other, affectionate like they do.”

  “Sounds like Fernando,” Jack replied. “So all was going well at that point.”

  “Yep. And he chowed down in the feed trough with the cows.”

  “Bet he was hungry after a couple nights’ work.”

  “Yeah. Bulls can get real skinny, but he looked strong.” Mr. Reynolds gave a heartfelt sigh. “Right then, I didn’t know he was Fernando, but I’d heard about him and the reward and the little girl.”

  “Did Fernando cooperate with you?”

  “What do you think? He didn’t have an ear tag, but I had a scanner and that told the tale.”

  “Good thing you had a scanner.”

  “Early Christmas present from the wife.”

  “Guess you’ll be thanking her for a long time.”

  “You bet. And I’ll be thanking Steele Trap Ranch II forever.”

  “No doubt. Please tell our listeners that you roped Fernando and you’ll have him back at his ranch later today.”

  “I roped him all right.” Mr. Reynolds laughed as if at his own folly. “I knew better. I wasn’t even on a horse. A bull like that can take a horse and rider down easy. For him, I was like swatting a fly.”

  “Did you get bruised up?”

  “I could’ve been, but I’m not so stupid I’d hold on to that rope. Mad don’t begin to describe him. He gave me a look that froze me into a solid block of ice, then he took off. I doubt if he even saw the fence he plowed through.”

  “So he’s in the wind?”

  “Afraid so. And I lost my best red Lone Star rope with him.”

  “How do you feel about finding and losing him?” Jack asked in a deep, sympathetic voice.

  “Good and bad. I’ve got Little Fernandos on the way. But I wish I’d been the one to get him home safely for that girl.”

  “And the reward.”

  “Yeah. That, too. Still, I’m worried about him. He’s big, smart, and strong, but there are dangers out there for a bull on the loose.”

  “How do you think he got away from the kidnappers?”

  “No idea…but it can happen.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked, sounding intense. “I’ve got an idea or two, but I’d like to get your take.”

  “I had it happen once. I was transferring a bull from one truck to another. You know, you back them up, end to end, and the bull is supposed to go from one truck bed to the other. But this particular bull squeezed his big bulk out of a tiny spot between the trucks, making one truck roll, and plowed out of there, mad as hell. The cowboy standing on the bumper got knocked down and stepped on before we could get that bull back under control.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Sure was.”

  “Do you think that’s how Fernando got away?”

  “Don’t know. But a bull that size and strength can do plenty of damage to trucks, horses, and cowboys.”

  “I’m with you on that assessment. I do appreciate your story, Mr. Reynolds. You’ve been real helpful,” Jack said. “I don’t want to take up too much time from your busy day, but do you have anything else you’d like to share with our listeners?”

  “I’d like to thank Steele Trap Ranch II for the donation to my herd. I’m mighty appreciative. And I just hope somebody out there catches Fernando before something happens to him.”

  “We’ve all got our fingers crossed for his safe return. And thank you so much for joining us today to share your Fernando sighting.”

  “Anytime.”

  Slade clicked off and just sat there in stunned silence. Little Fernandos? He wouldn’t have believed it if the cowboy hadn’t had a scanner. Of course, he could be making the whole thing up for attention or whatever. Still, it had the ring of truth.

  He turned back toward the house. Honey Grove. That meant Fernando was close to Bonham, if the rancher spoke the truth. Lots of ranches and farms along that route. Fernando wouldn’t be following the road. He’d be going cross-country. That was about eighty miles away. A bull could make five miles a day…if he was motivated by food. And home.

  He heard Storm’s ringtone again, so he clicked Answer.

  “Fernando will be home by Christmas,” Storm said in a happy voice. “I just knew it.”

  “Hope so. But even if that rancher spoke the truth and Fernando did escape the rustlers, he’s still a long way from here.” He didn’t want to worry her by mentioning coyote packs or rifles or injured hooves or rustlers. It wouldn’t be far in a truck, but for a lone bull, it was treacherous country.

  “But he’s Fernando, the biggest, baddest, bravest bull in the whole wide world. He’ll be home for Christmas.” And once more, she was gone.

  Slade just sat there a moment, thinking. He hoped she was right. He knew some ranchers in that area, so he’d contact them and find out if Mr. Reynolds had a solid reputation. If so, he’d contact the rancher and see if there was any more to learn from him. He didn’t care about the loss of revenue. He just wanted Fernando safely home.

  When his horse had enough to drink, he turned the roan toward his cattle barn. Oscar and Tater were probably there by now. As far as he knew, he was pretty much on top of chores. Cowboys were busy on both ranches. He’d baked and sent off several orders of pies. Muscadine grapes were in vats turning into wine since the end of last summer. He’d ordered a new bed for the cowboy cabin. He wasn’t due at the café to cook lunch till later, so Granny could take a break and whip up something special.

  All in all, things were in about as much control as they ever got, particularly with Christmas coming up fast. He started to call Ivy again, then stopped. She was probably in the midst of designing websites or getting on top of something at the Park. Still, he wanted to hear her voice, so he hit speed dial to connect to her.

  “Slade, the bed is wonderful. The Settelmeyers just installed it in the cabin. I’m so glad you ordered a queen.”

  “I wanted a king, but there just isn’t room.”

  “True.” She chuckled. “I feel a little naughty.”

  “Tell me about it.” He hoped this was really good, because he could use hearing an erotic fantasy that featured her right now.

  “I bounced on the bed several times.”

  “How did it feel?”

  “Lonely.”

  “I’m here at the ranch. My bed is lonely, too.”

  “I think I’m getting addicted to you.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not in a million years.”

  She chuckled in a low, suggestive tone.

  He felt the sound vibrate up and down his spine, causing him to miss her all the more. “Maybe I better come over, so we can try out the bed.”

  “See if we can break it, is that what you mean?”

  He laughed so hard that his horse shied, jingling the metal on the reins. “I hope it’s a better bed than that.”

  She hesitated for a moment, breathing into the phone. “Can you come over soon?”

  “Pretty quick. I’ve got a couple of hours before I need to be at the café.”

  “Perfect.”

  As he neared the barn, he saw Oscar motioning urgently for him to come closer. Tater paced in agitation by his side. Something wasn’t right. “Ivy, I’ve got to go. Looks like there’s a ranch problem. We better wait to test the bed.”

  “Okay. I’ll hold you to it. And, Slade, stay safe.”

  “Always.” He put his phone in his pocket and ur
ged his horse into a lope to get to Oscar faster.

  When he got there, he slid off the roan and approached Oscar with trepidation. He’d known things had been going too well to last.

  “We got trouble.” Oscar took off his hat and scratched his bald head.

  “What kind? Which ranch? Anybody hurt?” Slade took several steps toward the barn.

  “Hold your horses.” Oscar replaced his hat and spit to one side. “No rush. Fire rescue is on its way to the old ranch.”

  Slade felt his heart sink at the news. “Tell me it’s not Granny…or Storm…or Sydney.”

  “They’re fine. We’re all okay.” Oscar patted Tater’s head. “But I think we’re gonna lose a barn.”

  Slade shook his head at the bad news, but he felt galvanized at the same time. “I’d better get there and help contain it.”

  “I hate to tell you, but it’s the old barn.”

  Slade felt sick at his stomach. No way to replace it, not a barn made by his ancestors of hand-hewn logs at a barn-raising well over one-hundred-fifty years ago. “Granny. It’ll break her heart.”

  “Not to mention her bank account. She was pouring her heart, soul, and money into restoring that relic.”

  “Is she there?”

  “By now, most likely. Sydney’s taking over the café.”

  “Storm?”

  “She’s with Sydney.”

  “Good.”

  “They want you over there. We can go together.”

  Slade started for the barn, then stopped and glanced around the area. “Fire again.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’d better stay here and keep an eye out…if it isn’t already too late.”

  “What?”

  “How likely was that barn to catch fire?”

  “About as likely as any empty, dry-wood, under-construction barn.”

  “In other words, it’s not too likely unless it had a little help.” Slade felt even sicker at where his mind had gone.

  Oscar spit hard to the side. “You think the rustlers struck again?”

  “Fits the pattern, doesn’t it?”

  “Distract and hit. Works for them, but against us.”

  “Right. I’d hoped they’d left the county.”

  “If they were gone, all that Fernando brouhaha could’ve brought them back, put their rustler egos on the line.”

  “Something to prove?”

  Oscar shrugged as he patted Tater’s head again. “I’ll get the cowboys to checking the far pastures.”

  “I’ll make sure more cowboys come over from the other ranch. Damage is done there, but maybe we can still save something here.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll take care of stuff, then get back here as quick as I can.”

  “I hear you.”

  “Listen, I just caught Jack interviewing a cowboy from over Honey Grove way. He says Fernando covered three of his cows.”

  “How’d he know it was Fernando and not some other black bull?”

  “He had a scanner.”

  “Fernando escaped the rustlers? Bull’s got guts. When’s the rancher bringing him here?”

  “He isn’t. Fernando got away.”

  “That’s a right shame.”

  “Yeah. If the rancher’s telling the truth, it means we have a chance of getting Fernando back. I’m going to make some calls. Guy’s name is Reynolds.”

  “I’ll ask the cowboys around here about him, too.”

  “Thanks.”

  Slade tossed the reins to Oscar, then jogged over to his pickup. He got in, backed up, and tore out of the barnyard. He did his best to hold down his speed as he pulled onto Wildcat Road, because he couldn’t turn back time and save the barn to stop his grandmother’s anguish. All he could do was get there, make sure the fire didn’t spread, and comfort Granny…but it all seemed like too little too late.

  From a distance, he could see smoke spiraling up from the ranch. He figured Wildcat Bluff volunteer firefighters were already there, but if not, he carried a limited amount of equipment in his truck at all times. He’d haul it out and get started at containment.

  He turned off the road, drove under the black metal cutout that read “Steele Trap Ranch,” with clear blue sky shining through the open letters and a red-suited, white-bearded Santa Claus perched on one corner slowly waving at passersby with his battery-operated, animated arm. Santa looked way too cheerful against the backdrop of rising smoke—and of Slade’s own feelings.

  He rattled over the cattle guard and headed up the single lane till he came to the sprawling redbrick ranch house with a red metal roof where his mother and grandmother lived together. Arches enclosed a portico where he often sat on the bright-yellow cushions of the cedar chairs. For Christmas, they’d outlined the arches with long ropes of red and green lights to match the bright wreaths in every window. Again, it looked way too cheerful for the occasion.

  He turned left, instead of right toward Sydney’s house and his own beyond it. He wanted to get to the barn, maintenance, and garage area on a hill overlooking the Red River. No, he didn’t want it. He wanted to be anywhere else. But he followed the smoke that was growing thicker all the time.

  When he got to the old barn, it was totally engulfed in a huge, red-orange blaze, shooting flames and smoke into the sky. Two Wildcat Bluff boosters had been backed up toward the barn. Firefighters had pulled out hoses and now sent streams of water out of nozzles onto the roaring fire. The whole area was hot and smoky with black soot caught by a breeze and tossed over everything. Even though it looked bad, Slade felt a surge of relief. So far so good. The fire appeared close to containment, so it wouldn’t spread to the other buildings or nearby pasture. They were lucky.

  Still, the blaze wasn’t his main concern. Granny stood safely to one side with her arms wrapped around her middle, in comfort or protection. She still wore her pink, frilly Chuckwagon apron with her hair captured by a net over her thick bun on the back of her head. No tears scored her cheeks, but she had an iron will—all her tears would be inside.

  He parked out of the way, stepped down, and hurried over to her.

  She glanced up at him and gave a shake of her head.

  He took her in his arms, so small, so frail, and yet so strong. He loved her with a fierceness that sometimes surprised him. But that was family for you. They were the linchpin of life.

  “And it was looking so beautiful.” She stepped back from him, appearing sad and a little lost.

  “I’m sorry, Granny.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he simply held her hand.

  “Sorry won’t cut it.” She sounded decisive. “We’ve had enough of these shenanigans on our ranches.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Absolutely. How many head went missing this time?”

  “Oscar is looking into it.”

  “Good.” She turned back to the burning barn, black soot dotting the pink of her apron. “Sheriff Calhoun is a good man. He’ll find arson here, just like at the other fires. He’ll find cattle missing just like before. But he won’t find the rustlers.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’ve been one step ahead of us all the way.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Why is it?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

  “We’ve got to try harder.” She squeezed his hand. “Next time somebody might get hurt.”

  “We can’t let that happen.”

  “No, we can’t.” She raised her face and stared at the destruction in progress. “The cattle drive is coming up.”

  “Do you think they’ll pull an old-timey cattle heist by picking off stragglers?”

  She squeezed his hand harder. “I suspect so, but that’s not my fear.”

  “What is?�
��

  “Our cattle drive is turning into quite the event of the year. Everybody wants to be involved in it. We’re talking about ranchers and neighbors. That’s okay. We’re probably also going to get tenderfoot, weekend riders just out for fun. KWCB will be there live streaming, but we may get media from nearby towns or even Dallas and Fort Worth. We can’t control it all…and somebody could easily get hurt by the rustlers, accidentally or not.”

  Slade groaned, watching the fire that didn’t seem quite so bad now that he thought about cattle drive dangers.

  “I talked with the sheriff,” she said. “We’ll have mounted patrol. Hedy will have EMTs, water, and first-aid available.”

  “That’s all good.”

  “But will it be enough?”

  “There’s something else to add to the mix.” He hated to bring it up, but he might as well get it over with.

  “What?”

  “Fernando.”

  She leaned into him. “How in the world did that ever get started?”

  “It’s a long story. If I mention Wildcat Jack, will you understand?”

  “Oh yes. He’s a showman, no doubt about it.”

  “Who knows how many people, some on foot, may show up trying to have a Fernando sighting?”

  “Do you think they’ll come in from the cities?”

  “No idea.”

  “Okay.” She nodded as she looked up at him. “We add Fernando to the mix. I’ll alert the sheriff, although he’s probably already thought of it.”

  “And something else—a rancher in Honey Grove just called into the Den and claimed Fernando covered his cows the last couple of days.”

  “I heard.” She grinned, looking happy. “Update me. When is he bringing our bull home?”

  “He can’t. Fernando ran away, but if his story is true—”

  “Fernando escaped his kidnappers.”

  “Right.”

  “That’s good news, because those cowboys out there looking for him will find him.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Count on it.”

  “Granny.” Slade put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I think this is going to be a Christmas to remember—if we survive it.”