Cowboy Fever

by Joanne Kennedy

  She glanced at her watch. It was almost eight o’clock. Troy was due any minute, and she didn’t want the sheriff here when he arrived.

  “Well, I’d better get back to work,” she said. She picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and turned it toward the barn.

  “Okay,” the sheriff said. “Just be sure and tell him I need to see him. Maybe you could bring him over to the office.”

  “Sure,” Jodi said. “Yeah.”

  She turned and headed for the barn before he could say anything more. When the sound of his engine trailed off into the distance, she breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, Troy was probably headed there on his bike by now, and the sheriff was bound to pass him. She frowned. Maybe she should have been more helpful. If the sheriff saw Troy now, he’d have a chance to question him by himself. If she’d helped find him, at least she’d be able to sit in on the questioning.

  She stepped out of the barn and shaded her eyes with her hand. Something in the distance glinted in the sun. Troy? No, it was a car. A truck. She breathed a sigh of relief as it turned into her driveway. It was Teague. He must be giving Troy a ride over.

  And he’d just missed the sheriff.

  She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the barn. She had to lean against something. Just thinking of Teague made her knees weak, and besides, he’d spent most of the night before wearing her out in the bedroom. She smiled and tilted her face to the sun.

  She didn’t know when she’d felt so complete. The only thing that would have made the night better was if she was still in his bed when she’d woken up this morning—but she had her own animals to tend, and then there was Troy.

  She watched the truck pull to a stop and her heart did a little cha-cha in her chest. She’d planned to play it cool, but when he opened the truck door she ran to him like a kid whose daddy had just come home from the war. Throwing her arms around his neck, she whooped as he picked her up and spun her around.

  “Goooooood morning!” he said, giving her a loud smack on the cheek and setting her down. Dang, she’d never seen Teague so happy. Maybe she was what he’d needed all along.

  She gave herself a mental slap. She knew better. And she’d promised her mother she’d use her brain when it came to this relationship.

  But Teague was looking at her like he was hungry, and not for eggs and bacon. It was hard to remember she even had a brain with all the other body parts that were clamoring for attention.

  “Good morning.” She rolled her shoulders to get her T-shirt to fall back into place and tried—and failed—to wipe the lovesick grin off her face.

  “Morning, Jodi,” Troy said. “Wow, you sure look nice today.”

  She looked down at her rumpled T-shirt and ratty jeans and laughed. “I do?”

  “Yeah.” Troy nodded. “You look happy.”

  That just made the lovesick grin widen while she nodded like a bobblehead.

  “You want me to groom the horses?” Troy asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks, bud. We’re using TT and Peach again.”

  She and Teague watched Troy stride into the barn. “He’s all business,” she said. “I couldn’t have hired anyone better.”

  “Yeah, and the job means a lot to him.” Teague slung an arm over her shoulders. “You were right on that one. And he’s done okay spending his money. Although if I hear ‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’ one more time…”

  Jodi giggled.

  “So,” he said. “Want to go inside?” He smiled that bad boy smile and Jodi could feel her brain melting as her body heated up. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, sliding his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and tugging her hips into his as he bent and gave her a very thorough good-morning kiss.

  “No,” she said when she came up for air. “Can’t. I need to talk to you.”

  “Bummer. What about?”

  “Troy.”

  “Troy?”

  “Yeah. Remember? Your brother.” She laughed. “Did all the blood rush out of your brain, or what?”

  He looked down, then gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, get over it and pay attention. This is important.”

  “Okay,” he said. “What about Troy?”

  “The sheriff stopped by this morning, asking questions about him.”

  “The sheriff? Why?”

  “I don’t know. He was asking about the polo match. About whether Troy was excited about it, who he was rooting for, stuff like that. I think it was about the fire.”

  “The fire?” He looked puzzled.

  “I think Woodell’s thinking Troy was… involved.”

  “Like in arson?” Teague shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I know. But you said Troy was leaving when the fire department got there. Maybe someone saw him and thought he was fleeing the scene, or something.”

  “Maybe we should find out.” He pushed himself up from the bench. “Want to go with me?”

  “I can’t go anywhere. I have clients.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” He looked at the truck, then back at her.

  “You go ahead, though,” she said. “I think we’d better find out what’s going on.”

  “We,” he said, bending down to give her a gentle kiss. “I like that.”

  “Me too,” she said. “But hey, when it comes to Troy, we’ve always been a team.”

  “And now we’re a team in other things too.”

  “In everything.” She nodded and gave his butt a playful slap. “So hurry back.”

  Chapter 33

  “Hey.” Cissy set down a romance novel on the sheriff’s reception desk and gave Teague a smile. “What brings my knight in shining armor into town?”

  “Need to see the sheriff,” Teague said gruffly. He was no knight. He’d just done what needed to be done. “Got some questions for him.”

  “What…”

  Teague brushed past her before she could finish the sentence. His brain had kicked back into gear once Jodi had faded from sight in his rearview mirror, and the more he’d thought about what she’d told him, the more concerned he got. There was no good reason for the sheriff to be asking questions about Troy.

  He shoved the door to Woodell’s office open and strolled in like he owned the place.

  “What’s this about Troy?” he asked.

  “Hello to you too,” the sheriff said. He leaned back in his chair, spinning it to face Teague. “I just had a couple questions for him. Not for you, for him.”

  “You can ask me,” Teague said. “You don’t need Troy.”

  “I’m afraid I do.”

  Teague stepped up and set his fists on the desk, deliberately looming over the sheriff. “What’s this about?”

  Woodell held up his hands as if warding Teague off. “Take it easy, son. I have a job to do, that’s all. There have been some serious accusations made, and it’s my duty to check out the facts.”

  “What kind of accusations?” Teague gave the sheriff his best slit-eyed stare. He could out–Dirty Harry Clint Eastwood when he tried.

  “You need to calm down, son.”

  “I’m calm,” Teague said. “So spit it out.”

  The sheriff eyed him cautiously, like he was facing down a Doberman. “Now don’t get riled up,” he said. “You don’t need any trouble.”

  “Damn straight,” Teague said. He really should be more careful about how he talked to the sheriff, but whenever anything threatened Troy, he had trouble keeping himself calm. It had gotten him in trouble before. He took a deep breath. Calm down, he told himself. Calm down. “Look, why don’t you tell me what you’re accusing Troy of, and we’ll make sure the trouble goes away?”

  “I’m not accusing him.”

  “Then who is?”

  The sheriff swall
owed. Teague waited, tension knotting his gut.

  “Your brother’s been working for Mitch Skelton,” the sheriff said.

  “I know.” Teague clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in his chest. He’d known the job with Skelton was a bad idea. It just hadn’t felt right—the secrecy, and the suddenness of it. There was no reason the guy needed Troy—no good reason.

  “Okay. Don’t get upset, now. We can talk this out.” The sheriff took a deep breath. “According to Skelton, the fire that occurred the other day was arson, and it was your brother’s doing.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why would Troy do a thing like that?”

  “Apparently, you had some scheme to challenge Skelton to a polo match.”

  “It was for a fund-raiser,” Teague said. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Skelton believes your brother burned down the barn so that the horses would be killed and your team would win the match by default.”

  “You have got to be kidding,” Teague said.

  “I’m afraid not. So you see, I really do need to question your brother.”

  “No,” Teague said. He could feel his muscles tensing, as if he was about to turn green and swell up like the Incredible Hulk.

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a say in this,” the sheriff said. “Look, I don’t think your brother would do that either. But it’s my job to follow up on this kind of thing. Let me talk to Troy, and it’ll all go away.”

  Teague shook his head. “This Skelton dude. What do we really know about him, anyway?”

  The sheriff shrugged.

  “So why take his word over Troy’s?”

  “Well, first of all, I don’t have Troy’s word yet. And besides, there’s evidence.”

  Teague took a step back. “Evidence?”

  The sheriff scooted his seat back a foot or so, as if trying to distance himself from Teague. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but a tin of lighter fluid was found in your brother’s backpack. The accelerant matched the chemical the fire marshal says was used to start the fire.”

  “Lighter fluid?” Teague almost laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Troy’s not allowed to mess around with stuff like that. Somebody must have planted it. And what the hell were you doing searching his backpack? You have probable cause?”

  The sheriff folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the case.”

  “What?”

  “We don’t talk about ongoing investigations.”

  “So in other words, you did an illegal search and you don’t want to admit it.”

  The sheriff fished a pair of mirrored sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and slid them over his eyes. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that. But I recommend that you find your brother and bring him down to the station at the first opportunity.” He bent his head and began shuffling through papers, obviously dismissing them. “Otherwise, if Skelton presses charges, I may have to issue a warrant for his arrest.”

  ***

  The truck cab was hot and airless, setting Teague’s anger to simmering like a pot on slow boil. He considered going home for a minute to calm down, but Jodi would calm him down better than being alone. Besides, he needed to talk to her. And to Troy.

  She was over by the arena, talking to a woman in a red T-shirt, but when she saw him pull in she jogged over and met him at the truck.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “We’re in between sessions,” she said. “Troy’s saddling up Peach. What’d the sheriff say?”

  “You were right,” he said in a low growl. “Skelton’s accusing Troy of setting that fire.” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot, sending it skittering across the driveway. “It’s ridiculous. There’s no way Troy would do anything like that. He’s scared of fire, for God’s sake. That’s why he hightailed it out of there.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Jodi said. “I’m on your side, remember?”

  “Sorry.”

  Troy led Peach out of the barn. Her coat was gleaming, and she was neatly saddled and ready to work.

  “Could you tie her up, Troy, and come over here?” Jodi called.

  Troy hitched Peach to the gatepost with a flourish and trudged over.

  “Hey.” Teague set one hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Did you know the sheriff’s looking for you?”

  Troy looked away. “Oh.”

  Teague glanced at Jodi, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. Troy didn’t seem at all surprised that the law was on his trail.

  “Did you know he was looking for you?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh.” Troy ducked his head. “I was out by Mr. Skelton’s barn the other day. I just went to get my backpack. Remember, I left it there? But he got real mad and said he was gonna call the sheriff.” Troy sniffed. “He said to get off his land. I don’t know why he doesn’t like me anymore. He used to like me.”

  “What’s going on with that guy?” Teague muttered. He looked at Troy a minute, chewing the inside of his cheek. “He still has your backpack, then?”

  Troy hung his head. “Uh-huh. When the barn caught fire and the trucks came, I left so fast I forgot it.” His lower lip trembled. “And then when I went back for it, Mr. Skelton said he’d call the sheriff.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why he wanted it. There wasn’t much in it.”

  In a flash, Teague remembered seeing the backpack in the barn’s wide doorway during the fire. “Bastard put that stuff in it himself,” he muttered, so low so only Jodi could hear. “He’s setting Troy up. I’ll bet he set the damn fire, too.”

  He turned abruptly and headed for his truck.

  “Where are you going?” Jodi called after him.

  “To Skelton’s. I’m going to straighten this out.”

  “No.” She ran up behind him and grabbed his arm. “Don’t. You’ll do something stupid.”

  “Thanks for having faith in me,” Teague said. “I’ll protect my brother, that’s all.”

  He shook her off but she grabbed his arm again, her grip surprisingly strong.

  “No. Stay here. We don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe we can find out.” She gestured toward the driveway, where the sun glinted off an approaching SUV. “Maybe Courtney knows something.”

  Teague groaned. Would the Skeltons just go away? He wished they’d never come to Purvis. He’d pay any amount of money to see them go.

  The Lexus jerked to a halt and Courtney slid down from the driver’s seat. She approached slowly, switching her hips to show off her tight pink jeans and sparkly tank top.

  Cowgirl Barbie. Just what he needed.

  “Teague, I found you,” she said.

  “Again,” Teague muttered. “Girl’s like a bloodhound on my trail.” He flashed Jodi a look he hoped she’d interpret as an apology and turned to Courtney.

  “What’s up?”

  His tone was brisk, almost harsh. He felt mean treating the girl that way, but he wanted to make it clear to Jodi that he didn’t care about Courtney. And if Courtney took offense, he didn’t really care. He’d had enough of her scheming—and her father’s.

  “I need you to look at some papers.” Courtney glanced over at Jodi, frowning. “In private.”

  “Anything you can say to me you can say to Jodi,” Teague said. From the corner of his eye he saw Jodi’s mouth quirk into a smile. For once, he’d said the right thing.

  “It’s okay,” she said, waving them away. “You guys go ahead and talk or whatever.”

  Teague winced. He didn’t want to “whatever” with Courtney. He didn’t even want to talk to her.

  Jodi walked away, her long hair swaying. Teague watched her a moment, admiring the cowgirl swagger in her walk. Her worn Wranglers did a fine job of showcasing her world-class derriere.

  S
hoot, the girl had him thinking in French. He was wrecked for sure.

  Courtney cleared her throat and Teague turned back to her, scowling. Seeing the two women together made him realize all over again how different they were. Sure, they were both blonde and both attractive, and both of them were rocking the Western look. But where Jodi walked with confidence, Courtney was looking up at him like she couldn’t make a move without his say-so. In fact, he realized, that was how she’d been holding him hostage all this time: She made him feel responsible for her. For some reason, she seemed to depend on him, and he felt bad letting her down.

  But he’d never asked for her trust. He didn’t owe her a thing.

  “Okay,” he said, keeping his voice flat and businesslike. “What?”

  “Well, I wanted Daddy to donate some money to the clinic since we couldn’t do the polo game, but he said he doesn’t have the money.”

  “Honey, I don’t see how that concerns me.”

  “Honey” didn’t mean anything in Teague’s world. If anything, the tone he’d used made it an insult—the kind of endearment that might have been followed by Rhett Butler’s “frankly, I don’t give a damn.” But Courtney obviously didn’t take it in that context, judging from the smile that was lighting her face. Shoot. Every move he made, every word he said, plunged him deeper into trouble with this girl.

  “Well, Daddy was out, meeting with the sheriff about the fire.”

  “I know,” Teague said.

  She didn’t seem to notice his grim tone.

  “So while he was gone, I started looking through his papers, trying to see if he’s telling the truth, and I found something.”

  “Courtney, your dad’s finances are none of my business. Besides, I’m sure his money matters are a whole lot more complicated than mine.”

  “These are just insurance papers. And there’s a bill of sale for some horses. You know about that kind of thing, right?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she leaned into the car and reached over to the passenger seat for some papers that were strewn around the cab. Her jeans tightened over her ass when she bent over, and Teague could have sworn she took a lot longer than she needed to gather up the pages, but no French came to mind. Just some very basic English.