To Tame a Texas Cowboy

by Julie Benson

  “Get the door. I’ll deal with Penny,” Cheyenne said.

  Cooper nodded. “Coming, Officer.”

  While Cheyenne coaxed the shepherd outside, Cooper opened the door and smiled at one of College Station’s finest.

  “Dr. Abbott, we’ve had a call about Cheyenne Whitten. It’s been suggested she’s here with you,” Officer Chaney said, his voice as somber as his face.

  Before Cooper could answer, Cheyenne appeared beside him. “Officer, I’m Cheyenne Whitten, and the call you got was from my mother.”

  “Ma’am, I need to see ID.”

  “Of course. It’s in my purse in the bedroom. If it’s okay, I’ll get it.” After the officer nodded consent, Cheyenne darted off. A minute later she returned clutching her wallet. As she handed the officer her ID, she explained about her seizures and her mother’s overprotective nature. “As you can see, I’m fine. Fuming mad at my mother, but physically I’m fine.”

  Officer Chaney withdrew a small notebook from his shirt pocket, opened it, and scanned the contents. “Your mother caused quite a stir when she called the station. She said she hadn’t seen you in almost twenty-four hours, and you weren’t at your friend, Ms. Aubrey Rogers’s apartment where you said you’d be.”

  “That’s me, fficer,” Aubrey said from the kitchen as she pulled her wallet from her purse. She quickly joined them and showed her identification.

  “Aubrey and I came here to see Cooper.”

  “Dispatch claimed your mother didn’t use the words foul play or say a criminal act was involved, but she danced around it,” Chaney said.

  Not good. Cooper stared at a spot in the distance over the officer’s shoulder as he struggled to control his racing heart. What if this got out? What would happen to his reputation? What would his clients think? Hell, what about his investors, who were as skittish as cats in a rocking chair factory?

  No matter what the situation, never let your emotions overpower your logic.

  He’d done nothing wrong. This would be easily straightened out. “Mrs. Whitten has jumped to some seriously wrong conclusions,” Cooper insisted.

  “I wish I could say my mother pulling this stunt was a surprise, but it’s not,” Cheyenne said, and then told the officer what happened starting at dinner last night through to the recent call to her mother.

  Officer Chaney tossed Cooper a sympathetic look before turning to Cheyenne. “Ms. Whitten, I need to speak with you alone outside.”

  Cooper ignored his churning fear. The officer’s actions were logical. He needed to follow procedure. First, assess the situation. Done. Second, speak with Cheyenne alone to ensure Cooper wasn’t influencing or threatening her.

  Logical? Yes, but still frustrating and damned unnerving.

  The minute the door closed behind Cheyenne and the officer, Aubrey started pacing. “I can’t believe her mother did this? She hinted that foul play was involved. That’s a serious accusation. You know what it could do to our lives?” She paused, placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. “How can you remain so calm? You know what can happen to us, our reputations, if this gets out?”

  “Panic won’t help.” Cooper pulled his cell out of his back pocket and smiled. “But calling AJ might.”

  “Great idea.”

  When the former FBI agent and Wishing’s chief of police answered, Cooper gave him a quick rundown.

  “Mrs. Whitten called here, but I told her unless it had been over twenty-four hours, I couldn’t file a missing person’s report.”

  Cooper rubbed the tight muscles in his neck and Aubrey resumed pacing. “Mrs. Whitten went off the deep end after talking to you and revised her story. She told the College Station PD she hadn’t seen her daughter in twenty-four hours. Then she tossed in the hint of intimidation or criminal activity for good measure.”

  “Blame Zane. He jinxed you. Wasn’t he the one who said you needed some excitement in your life the last time we got together?”

  AJ’s chuckle grated in Cooper’s ear. “Seriously, AJ? This isn’t funny. What should I do?”

  “Holy hell, I’m sorry, Coop. If I’d had a clue she’d contact the College Station PD, I’d have alerted them and warned you. What I can do now is call them and explain what she tried with me. Then I’ll have a chat with Mrs. Whitten about filing a false report.”

  “Thanks, pal.”

  “Don’t worry. Cheyenne talking to the officer alone should clear this up, but if it doesn’t, have him call me.”

  The front door creaked open and Cooper ended his call. Officer Chaney’s posture appeared more relaxed. He’d dropped his assertive cop face and Cheyenne was smiling. Thinking those had to be good signs, the band constricting Cooper’s chest loosened.

  “Ms. Whitten explained the situation and assured me she’s here of her own free will, which is what I thought a minute after arriving. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Dr. Abbott, Ms. Rogers. I’m sure you both understand why we take calls like Mrs. Whitten’s seriously. However, I promise to follow up so she understands we do the same with making a false report.”

  Cooper assured the officer he understood, shook the man’s hand, and when he closed the door, he sighed in relief. Disaster averted.

  “I am sorry, Cooper,” Cheyenne said, her voice crackling with guilt as she stood in front of him, her face pale, her hands clutched together in front of her.

  “You said your mom was overprotective, but I never imagined something like this.” Cooper swiped a shaky hand through his hair.

  “I’ve never been so scared and angry in my life. If the officer hadn’t believed us, he could’ve hauled me and Cooper off to jail,” Aubrey said.

  “I’ve got to do something about Mom. I don’t care how worried she is, when she hurts other people she’s gone too far.” Cheyenne collapsed on the couch beside Aubrey.

  If this was a sample of what Cheyenne was dealing with, no wonder she was desperate to move out. If a service dog could help her with that goal, how could he refuse to help? Wasn’t easing burdens like Cheyenne’s why he’d taken up Olivia’s cause with the SeizureReader?

  Dog nails scraping against the glass patio door drew Cooper’s attention. After he let the dogs in, Penny trotted over to Cheyenne and curled up by her feet.

  The wild idea that sprouted last night when he saw Penny with Cheyenne expanded. The idea could work.

  “We should leave. I’ve caused Cooper enough trouble, and who knows what else will happen if I stay longer,” Cheyenne said to Aubrey.

  Her friend shook her head. “Girl, I slept in my clothes and the officer showing up scared me so much I’m as sweaty as a teenager sneaking into the house after curfew. No way am I crawling in the car without a shower. Cooper, mind if I use yours?”

  “Go ahead. That’ll give me time to talk to Cheyenne.”

  After Aubrey left, Cheyenne stared at him wide-eyed. “Why would you want to talk to me? If I were you, I’d figure out how to get a restraining order.”

  He smiled at her attempt at humor as he sank into his recliner. The woman had grit. Despite everything, she hadn’t buckled. “On your mom maybe, but this wasn’t your fault.”

  Fatigue and vulnerability flashed in her green eyes, overwhelming the courage and toughness he admired a minute ago. “You’re wrong. This is my fault. I didn’t rein Mom in before this happened.”

  “Has your mom always been so,” he paused. Would it be completely out of line to call her mom a nut case?

  “Go ahead and say it. Crazy, wacko. Nuttier than a Collin Street Bakery fruitcake. Take your pick.”

  He chuckled at her plain speaking. “I was trying to find a better way to phrase it.”

  “That’s sweet, but unnecessary.” Cheyenne sighed. “She wasn’t as bad when my dad was alive.”

  “You don’t have to talk about this.”

  She shrugged. “You’ve seen my dirtiest laundry. Might as well know how it got so bad. My dad died in a freak rodeo accident when I was fifteen. A bull threw him and bef
ore the rodeo clowns got there, the bull stepped on his—” She shuddered, and horror flashed across her face. “There was nothing anyone could do. He was gone.”

  “Saying I’m sorry is inadequate, but I am sorry.”

  Cheyenne picked at the couch cushion. “That’s what started Mom’s overprotectiveness. Most people think things like that won’t happen to them or someone they love, but she knows they do. My diagnosis has dredged up that pain, along with her fear, and helplessness. She’s doing the only thing she can think of, trying to control everything, but she can’t fix this for me.”

  The story poured out of Cheyenne. How she’d left home for the rodeo circuit after high school despite her mom’s objections, causing a strain in their relationship. When she had her seizure, needing to know her family’s medical history, she’d told her mom what had happened. “I have some money in savings, and hadn’t planned on moving back to Wishing, but Mom said if I didn’t move home, she’d move in with me.”

  “That’s not much of a choice.”

  “No kidding, but I chose what I thought was the lesser evil. How bad could it be with her at work all day? Unfortunately, she had vacation time stockpiled. Lucky me, she’s been off since I moved in. Mom means well, but she’s smothering me. She’s panic-stricken I’ll have a seizure alone.”

  “And she imagines all kinds of disastrous outcomes, each ending with your early demise?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I have an idea that could benefit us both.”

  “Why would you help me? Why aren’t you furious with her? With me? Are you always so laid-back? The police were here because my mom made a missing person’s report. My insides are still shaking like Jell-O, but you look as if nothing happened.”

  He resisted the urge to smile at how he’d fooled her. His expression might appear calm, but his hands were as clammy as Boston chowder. “Everything got cleared up. What’s the point in getting upset?”

  “What’s the point? The police never should’ve been here. If I were you, I’d be on the phone with my mother giving her a good old-fashioned ass chewing.”

  Cheyenne’s eyes brightened, turning the color of spring grass. What the hell was he thinking? He rarely noticed a woman’s eye color, much less waxed poetic about them. That was the kind of schmaltzy line Zane spouted as easily as Cooper asked about the weather.

  “Come to think of it, I’d love for you to do that,” Cheyenne said, her voice ringing with amusement as she pulled out her cell.

  “What?” He’d lost total track of their conversation. She really did have expressive eyes that pulled a man in before he realized what happened.

  “I’d love for you to give my mom an earful. It would serve her right. Maybe if enough people tell her she’s acting crazy she’ll get the message. I’ll happily lend you my phone.”

  Cooper smiled but waved Cheyenne off when she held out her phone. “The smarter plan is to deal with her fear, but you don’t seem to want to hear about my idea. Maybe we should forget it.”

  She stilled. Her gaze locked on him. Now he had her attention. “No. Go ahead. I’m sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

  But before he could explain, Cheyenne’s phone belted out Stewie’s voice from Family Guy calling out Mom over and over. Cooper laughed, while Cheyenne groaned. “It’s like Beetlejuice. I said her name too many times, and now she’s calling. I better answer before the police show up again.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry. It’s either laugh or yell and throw things.”

  Which was exactly why he never let his emotions get the best of him. They caused a person to react in ways he regretted later.

  “Mom, I’m fine.” Cheyenne paused. “No, I’m not on the road.” Another pause, and Cheyenne’s pretty face tightened with frustration. “I’ll get back when I get back. You’ve got to loosen up. I’m not a child. I’ll text you,” she emphasized the word text, “when we’re on the road, and we’ll talk about this when I get home.”

  Her voice, forceful and determined, yet filled with patience, worked its way inside Cooper. Even after what her mother had done, Cheyenne hadn’t told her off. The fact said volumes about her character.

  Cheyenne clutched her phone so tightly her knuckles whitened. “Mom, I’m hanging up now, and if you call back, I’m not answering. Got it?”

  Then she did precisely as she said. She placed her hands, still wrapped around her phone in a death grip, in her lap. “Whatever your idea is, if it’ll help with my mother, I’m in.”

  Cooper explained how over the last two years he’d worked to get the SeizureReader into production. “We’re close, but our investors want more real-world data with someone recently diagnosed. That’s where you come in. You can help me collect that, but Penny’s the key.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I need a seizure patient and a service dog.” He glanced at the shepherd curled up asleep at Cheyenne’s feet. “Penny can be trained as your service dog.”

  “Shouldn’t she go to someone on an agency’s waiting list?”

  “You wouldn’t go through an agency.”

  “You lost me.”

  He explained how some people obtained a dog from a breeder and hired a certified trainer to work with the animal.

  “With agency waiting lists so long, why don’t more people do that?”

  “First, money. It can cost thousands of dollars to purchase a dog from a breeder and hire a certified trainer. Another drawback is that route doesn’t guarantee someone ends up with a service dog.” He told her of how the dogs Patriot Paws bring in the program, only 58 percent became service dogs. “Screening and testing eliminates some candidates, but if I looked at the remaining dogs, I couldn’t tell which ones would make it and which won’t.”

  “In other words, if someone gets a dog from a breeder, there’s a fifty-fifty shot of getting a service dog.”

  “Agencies offer guarantees because they match a person with a dog after it passes training. While I can’t guarantee Penny will make it, her alerting behavior’s a good indicator.”

  “I don’t know if I can afford a trainer.”

  “You don’t have to. If Penny passes a few preliminary tests, I’ll train her in return for your help with the SeizureReader.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this, but if Penny can be a service dog, shouldn’t you offer her to Patriot Paws for someone who’s been waiting for years?”

  “Patriot Paws doesn’t work with shepherds.”

  “Oh? Should I be concerned?”

  Cooper explained about agency’s differing opinions regarding breeds. Some experts had concerns German shepherds could become overprotective. This occasionally resulted in the dog preventing first responders from treating the patient. For that reason, Patriot Paws worked exclusively with Labradors.

  “Before we go further, I should assess Penny.” Cooper sat a few feet from the dog on the floor. “When we find shelter candidates, we note how long the dog takes to notice someone, but we can skip that. The minute you showed up, Penny was aware of you.”

  “She kind of attached herself to me, didn’t she?”

  He nodded. “Patriot Paws watches the dogs to determine placement. The animal shows who it should work with by gravitating to one person.”

  “In other words, the dog picks its person.”

  He nodded. “I can teach a dog the behaviors to assist his human, but if it doesn’t bond with someone, I can’t fix that. But we don’t have to worry about that. Obviously, Penny bonded with you.” Cooper pulled keys from his pocket and tossed them toward the front door. A thud sounded, followed by a metal jangle as they landed on the wood floor. While Penny flinched, and crouched with concern registered on her face, within seconds, she trotted off to investigate. Cooper smiled. “That’s exactly what I wanted. Being startled is okay, if she recovers quickly and checks out the situation.”

  He worked through the initial assessment. He petted Penny from head to t
ail, noting she wasn’t sensitive or skittish to touch. Then he retrieved a basket from under his coffee table and grabbed a knotted rope toy. When Penny failed to show any interest in playing with him, he tossed the item to Cheyenne. “You try.”

  She held the toy out to Penny, who immediately latched on. The dog tugged and back pedaled.

  Cheyenne giggled. “You’re strong, girl. Lighten up, or you’ll pull me off the couch.”

  Cooper grabbed a tennis ball and placed it in Cheyenne’s empty hand. “See if she’ll exchange this for the rope.”

  “How about we trade, Penny?” Cheyenne held out the ball. The dog dropped the rope and snatched up the other toy.

  Cooper let them play for a minute, observing. “See if she’ll drop the ball for you.”

  “Penny,” Cheyenne waited until she had the dog’s attention. “Drop it.”

  The dog held onto the ball.

  “Try again and point to the floor.”

  “Drop it, Penny,” Cheyenne commanded as she pointed to the floor.

  This time Penny complied.

  “So far I don’t have any concerns, but I want to check one last thing.” Cooper walked into the kitchen, returning with a dog bowl, treats, and a broom. He tossed the treats in the bowl and placed it in front of Penny. Once she started eating, he stuck the broom handle into the bowl and slid it away. The animal merely looked up at him annoyed. “That’s good! We don’t want her being over protective or guarding her resources. This means she’s passed the initial assessment with flying colors.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t get too excited. This only means she’s acceptable to start training.”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  Cheyenne’s simple question caused completely inappropriate possibilities to pop into Cooper’s head. Ones revolving around him and Cheyenne getting to know each other much better, and with him discovering if her skin and hair were as soft as they appeared.

  Cooper cleared his throat. Never let your emotions overpower your logic. “Dr. King in Wishing broke his hip and is retiring. I’m taking over his clinic next week. If you move in with me, we’ll get to work.”