Of The Cowboy's Own Accord (Double Dutch Ranch; Love At First Sight #3)

by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

  “They’ll be no shooting today. Stay there a minute, honey, until he calms down.” He knelt a short ways away from Boston and spoke quietly until the dog settled back on four legs. “Okay, that’s it.” He took a few steps closer. Dane held his palm facing the dog then gave him a treat. “It’s all right.” Slowly, he knelt and smoothed his hand over his head and ears while speaking to him. Boston sat. “It’s okay.” Dane glanced up at Gracelyn. “I want you to hold the .45, aim, and at least see what it feels like in your hands. Sight something in. We’re not putting this dog through any gunshots.”

  She could do that, hold it, whatever. As long as she didn’t have to see Boston in fear. It tore at her heart to know he suffered at something as simple as a slamming door. Did a part of her husband suffer from the effects, too? Is that what she had seen in him earlier? She hadn’t realized her breath held until she had to exhale. “Can I come there now?”

  “Sure, he’s settled enough.” When she headed toward them, Boston walked slowly back to her. His ears stayed flat, his tail nearly between his legs. “It’s okay, Boston. We love you, boy.” She knelt and he came closer to shove his nose into her hand. She asked Dane, “He’ll be okay? We’ll take care of him. They can’t have him back. Not when he still acts like this.” Her eyes watered, but she held tears back.

  On the way toward her, he said, “It isn’t our decision if they get him back. Face that fact, okay? It’ll make it easier on you to accept it, if he has to go back.”

  She shrugged but in her mind, she couldn’t face the idea of losing him. A vehicle and dust eased toward them. “Are we in trouble for coming out here to shoot?”

  “No, honey, we’re on our own property. It’s Jase. He must’ve talked to Mom. I suppose he wants to play cowboy.” He held his hand out with the handgun pointing toward the ground. “Come on over here. It’s not loaded. Don’t be afraid.”

  She took the semi-automatic when he held it out to her. “I’m not afraid of guns. It’s that I’ve never had reason to shoot one, but I want to.”

  “First off, always check to see if it’s loaded. Like this.” He showed her how to pop the magazine out and pull the slide back to check for a round. “We’ll leave the dog home one day so you can learn.” Over his shoulder, he spoke to Jase when he got out of his truck. “Hey, if you have your handgun, don’t fire it.”

  “What’s up? Mom said you loaded up your ammo and guns. I wouldn’t mind shooting a few rounds.” Jase patted Boston before walking over to where they stood and greeted Gracelyn. “He’s turning you into a shooter, I see. It’s Brenna’s hobby.” Jase chuckled.

  “Let me show her how to do this first, Jase.” Dane stood behind her and held her hands when she pointed the gun toward the hill. “Two hands give you better control, stability.”

  “Baby, I like this position,” she muttered low. “This is big in my hand, and heavy.”

  “I thought you liked big and heavy in your hand, darlin’.” Through a snicker, he instructed her to loosen up her arms a little. Dane showed her how to sight in the target. “This Glock is heavier loaded.”

  He pressed up against her, and she was sure he didn’t need to be that close. A chuckle slipped out. I better pay attention. “I’m sighting in that tiny bare spot out there. I have it centered right where you said. I’ll pull the trigger…”

  “Go for it, sexy Mama.”

  She squeezed the trigger, imagining how different it’d be if loaded. He lifted her arms after she pulled it and her eyes widened. “Wow. Cool!”

  “This is what would happen after you squeezed off a round. The recoil. I’ll take you down to the range to experiment with different handguns until you find what fits your hand better. That’s enough for now.” Dane released her and turned to Jase. “It didn’t go like I planned, but this tells us Boston’s not ready.” He took a minute to confirm all the guns were unloaded.

  Jase picked up his dad’s old 30.06 rifle from the truck bed, eyeing it as if it were a gold brick. “Can’t wait to shoot this baby again.” He put the weapon down and picked up Dane’s Beretta, smiling as if holding a newborn babe.

  As she listened, she observed her husband. Camouflage pants, a tan t-shirt fitting tight against every muscle above his waist. Cowboy hat sitting low to shade his eyes. The true man—a combination of soldier aka cowboy. Both pride and concern for him blanketed her body.

  As he spoke with Jase, she slipped her arm around Dane’s waist and peered around the desert environment, especially at the display of tall cactuses. He had a great relationship with his brothers and aside from a tease now and then, the love shone through. She shivered a little and snuggled closer. It had been a little chillier in temperature than she had anticipated.

  Dane picked up his rifle and put his two .45 semi-automatic’s into lockboxes in the backseat, and his Beretta on the front seat. When Jase prepared to leave, she said, “It was great seeing you again.”

  Jase nodded. “Both of you come on over sometime. Brenna would love to see you again, Grace.”

  “We will visit one of these days. Thanks for asking.” Gracelyn patted the bed of the truck for Boston to jump in and he did. She ruffled his fur. “That’a boy.”

  “Let’s go, baby.” Dane lifted the tailgate up then escorted her to the passenger side. He nodded to Jase. “See you later. I have something else to take care of once we get home. I’ll call you.”

  “Have a good one you two.” Jase got in his truck and drove off toward his house that sat a couple miles out on his section of Double Dutch property.

  Chapter 20

  Once in their room, he locked all but his Beretta in the gun cabinet. Boston settled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Dane went into the bathroom to change clothes, and when he came out dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he hugged Gracelyn. “Thanks for going out there with me today. Rest if you need to, but I’ll be taking off for a little while. Will you be okay here?”

  “I’ll be fine. This is my home now. I’ll see what I can do to help with dinner.” She glanced at Boston. “Besides, our dog needs a lot of love right now. A molasses cookie, too.”

  With a pat to the dog, and a quick kiss to her forehead, he tucked his Beretta into his holster and turned to leave. “Catch you both later. I’ll try not to be long.”

  After Gracelyn cleaned up and dressed, she went downstairs. Judy insisted they sit with a cup of tea in the great room. An array of family photos sat on the fireplace to the left of the sofa, and Gracelyn checked them out from where she sat. A five by seven inch frame showed a photo of a bull rider on a bull—Dane’s cousin Caulder. A kind of frightening photo since the bull was on his front feet with his rear end high in the air. That looks like a scary ride.

  She turned her attention back to Judy. “From what I’ve overheard, Dane’s a lot like his father.” Hesitating a moment, she had to ask. “Has…Dane always been so on edge like he is at times, or is that something new?”

  “I’m glad you brought that up.” Judy tilted her head and got serious. “Dane has always been laid-back, a go-with-the-flow type of guy. Some of his recent behaviors have concerned me.”

  “I’m sure it’s due to the devastating changes in his life, including me and the baby—his injuries—what he’s been through on the last deployment. It didn’t take me long to figure out how much he loved being in the Army. We’ve talked about PTSD, and he said if he feels he has an issue, he’ll look into it. Do you think he would?” Gracelyn reflected back to some of his nightmares and sleepless nights.

  “My son is a smart man. I believe he’ll reach out if he needs help, but we’re all here to help him. We’ll recognize it first, or you will since you’re with him the most. If you need support in talking to him, we’ll approach it as a family if you’d like.”

  “I appreciate that, Judy.”

  Judy sat up straighter. “About your earlier statement… Yes, Dane is his dad all over. Maybe that’s why I cater to him the way I do—not that I don’t cater to all my family.�
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  “That’s understandable.” Gracelyn took a sip of hot, herbal tea. Boston curled in front of the sofa where she sat. They were interrupted by a loud rumble. His type of bike had its own distinctive sound. She got up to look out the window. “Wow, Dane’s on his motorcycle.” Gracelyn gulped as her gaze ran over him like spilled melted ice cream out of a tipped over bowl. Doggone, he looks so good on that bike. Where’d that straight and narrow soldier boy go? Pride radiated from within. “I knew he could do it if he put his mind to it. He has determination, that’s for sure.”

  “It’s a Carlson trait.” Judy came to stand beside her at the window. She slid her arm around Gracelyn’s shoulder. He rode down the dirt road in sunglasses and a leather jacket. “That’s my son for you.”

  “That’s my husband.” She smoothed her hand over her belly. “And right here is the little rebel. I’m sure he’ll live up to his name like his daddy.” She had no idea where he headed, but he told Jase he had something else to do when he got home. Be safe, my love.

  ***

  At the end of the road before heading out, he stopped to call Jase. “Where’d you get that tattoo? I need one.”

  It took Jase a minute to stop laughing. “I can’t believe you don’t have ten by now, little brother.” Jase told him where to go. “That longhaired guy, Dwayne, is the best. Ask for him. Tell him I sent you.”

  “Sure thing. By the way, if you see anything, or anyone hanging around, make sure you check him out. We have no idea where this Jamison guy is or what he’s up to.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks. Talk to you later.” After hanging up, he called the tattoo shop. Dwayne had an opening in an hour and forty-five minutes. It worked for him. Before anything else, he had to return a phone call. “Adam, what’s the news? Sorry I had to cut it short earlier.”

  “Gotcha. I got the information you wanted. It’s likely the guy’s name is Trevor Houston. His son died in a friendly fire incident five years ago. Guess who—”

  “Lieutenant Colonel Clark. I’ll be damned. He issued the orders for the operation?” The guy needed psychiatric help. No telling what he’d do to fulfil a grudge.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Any other information on him? Family? Whereabouts, or where he’s from?” To come into the restaurant that often he probably lived in Phoenix or the surrounding vicinity.

  “No family left,” said Adam. “He’s from the east coast but there isn’t much about him. He was a small business owner until he signed it over to his business partner and took off six months back.”

  Actually, that said a lot about him. The man had no intention of returning home. “Thanks, man. I owe you, remember that.”

  “Hooah. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Yep…hooah. See you.” Now to find him. He slammed his fist against his thigh. Dane glanced over at the old mountain. Jamison, or Houston had been off-the-grid since Las Vegas. In order to find Gracelyn here, he must’ve followed her. Had Houston been the one who hacked her email? All her information would’ve been there, including her new address. Later, he’d call Doug to give him a heads-up, although he had been tight-lipped when Dane had called from the restaurant. Why?

  One more phone call was necessary. “Hey, Mom,” he said when she answered. “Keep your eyes open around the ranch while I’m gone. Lock your doors. Okay?”

  “Of course, honey, I’ll do that, but you do what you have to do. Things are fine here.”

  “You sure?” Was Gracelyn right there listening? “Where’s my wife?”

  “Positively sure. Ah, she’s in the bathroom. Should I get her?”

  His mom must have been in the kitchen because pots banged around. “Nah, I’ll talk to her later. Tell her I love her when she comes out.”

  “Will do. Be careful, son.”

  “Later.” While taking another minute to survey the landscape, he lit a cigarette. To enjoy a few hits and two wheels between his legs. He had missed this…home and his customized bike—the freedom it gave. Zipping his jacket awakened his adrenalin. Gloves went on next but it fit weird with fingers missing. He removed the glove then pulled out his pocket knife to cut the ring and index finger off the glove. “That’s better.”

  Slipping his knife back into his jeans pocket, he sat straight, feet planted firmly on the ground. Revving the throttle a couple times got energy running through his veins. The cigarette dropped to the ground and he stomped it out. “Go time.” Turning onto the road leading to the highway got his heart to hammering.

  Dane turned away from town, hitting the 60 to head east. All he wanted to do was fly— soar like he used to, and to be reminded of who he used to be—to prove to himself he was still that guy—minus the troublemaker. No complaints. His wife’s arms wrapped tight around him—breasts pressed against his back, thighs spread around his hips—couldn’t come soon enough. Yeah, baby.

  Wind ripping through his hair drove him on. The rumble of the engine told his body to let it rip. Let’s wind this little baby up here. The engine roared like a panther growling through custom pipes. A damn fierce, black on black fat cat. Throttle up… A feeling of gladness overwhelmed him and he let the power loose. No one in front of him. No one behind. Intense. Loud. Fast.

  He kept it wide open half way to the next city. Once through town, he turned around to do it all over again. Tattoo time. Why didn’t he have ten tattoos like his brother said? To mark his body up, there’d have to be a reason. Now there was—times three. He smiled to himself as he hightailed it back down the highway—the familiar Superstition Mountain range—a comforting sight, in view.

  Too bad he didn’t get too far from home on the 60 before flashing lights appeared behind him. Sonofabitch, where was he hiding? Dane pulled to the side of the road and shook his head as he shut off the bike.

  Sheriff Thompson sauntered up to him, walked around to the front of the bike, and stood there with his arms folded across his chest with a smirk on his face that said, caught ya. “Welcome home, Dane. I had a hunch it might be you when all I saw was a streak with two wheels attached.”

  Dane unzipped and opened his jacket to let Leon know he was carrying. Lifting his sunglasses to rest atop his head, Dane burst out laughing. “Leon, I should’ve known you’d be out here.” The thing was, he didn’t even care. His ride was worth it. So would the rest of the ride into town, ticket or not, because he proved to himself he could still ride a chopped motorcycle, minus two fingers—an injured arm.

  “I’m not giving you a citation this time. I’d say you deserve a break. Hell, why not. One of you Carlson boys will come into my sights again sooner or later. You cowboys were born with a heavy foot.”

  “Blame my dad,” Dane said, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it then peered at Leon.

  The sheriff came to the side of the bike, laying his hand on Dane’s shoulder. “You be careful because you have that family now. Keep that in mind next time you wind up that throttle, either here or in your new truck.” He cuffed him on the head. “And wear a damn helmet to keep your brains inside your stubborn noggin.”

  Yep, he and half the deputies had a bead on everything he drove. “You remember… I’m too damn mean, Sheriff.” Dane stuck out his hand. “Have a good one. Stay safe yourself. By the way, I got the real name of that guy bothering Gracelyn.”

  Leon removed his notepad and wrote it down when Dane told him.

  “What about Carl Burke being involved in this? Have you found anything more about him?”

  “I can’t do anything until we have more information, Dane. Sure, I questioned him, but he told me about as much as you did.” He shook Dane’s hand, but took a minute to check out his injury. “Give your mama my best now.”

  “No worries.” Dane watched in his mirror as Leon got inside his 4x4, immediately talking on his radio. Telling the deputies he caught Dane Carlson on the 60? Hell, telling all the county. Dane ground out his cigarette, zipped his jacket, lowered sunglasses, and hit the throttle o
nce he got on pavement. He raised his hand to wave—glad he got off easy this time. His day would be complete after handling his weapons, two wheels of power, and a horse. Later…his sexy wife. Life isn’t bad after all.

  This afternoon, when the tattoo was finished, and before going home, he’d stop to see his best friend Wade. Might as well shake him up a little, too. Before entering the tattoo shop, he made that call to Gracelyn’s dad.

  ***

  Gracelyn sat with Judy on the front porch basking in the late autumn sun. She was almost ready to go inside when Dane rolled up the driveway hours after he left. He turned the bike off at the porch. “Howdy, ladies. How’s it going?” He raised his sunglasses and gave Gracelyn a wink.

  She got up and came to stand beside his bike, smelling alcohol on his breath right away. “We’re fine.” Heat radiated off the bike as she stood there. “How’d it go with you, sexy?”

  “It was a riot of excitement.” Dane removed his gloves, and said to his mom, “Leon sends his best. So does Wade Emory. Remember him?”

  “Of course I remember Wade. He practically lived here.” Judy’s eyebrows squeezed together. “Don’t tell me Leon gave you a ticket?”

  “Nope, he let me off.” Dane slapped his thigh and displayed a wide grin. “Guess he’s glad I’m home to give him something to do again.”

  Gracelyn moved closer, her leg against his knee. A smile built slowly the longer she gazed at him. “You look hot on this bike wearing leather. It’s kind of exciting to see you like this.” One more glance over him, she mumbled, “I like this side of you.”

  “That’s because I’m that alpha.” He removed the jacket and dropped it over the front of the bike. “It makes me hot to hear you say that. I got a lot of power between my legs, sweetheart. I’m raring to go. You might be in trouble tonight.” He glanced around her to his mother on the porch. Moving closer, he nuzzled her neck, “Make my day full, tonight, baby?” He whispered, “I don’t mean the bike between my legs making me hot.”