Naughty by Nature: The Lowells of Honeywell, Texas Book 2

by J. M. Madden

  Her expression softened and she actually smiled at him. “Thank you, Sheridan. I appreciate that.”

  It wasn’t a surprise when she made her excuses to leave soon after that. As he watched her tall, lean shape head out the door, he wondered if she realized how very shut off from other people she was. Yes, she was surrounded by people all the time, but there was a shadow in her eyes that told you how sad she was, how alone.

  Sheridan looked down at the half empty coffee cup, then the woman walking away down the street. No matter how long he needed to wait, he would be here waiting for her when she opened her eyes. And heart. This had been a good beginning.

  Cheyenne was distracted the rest of the day, and she had only herself to blame.

  Sheridan Lane had put her on edge. Most men put her on edge, but something about Sheridan was different. Maybe it was because of the appreciation she could see in his face. A woman knew when a man was drawn to her.

  She didn’t have time for any of that, or even the desire, certainly not the energy. She had three daughters to raise on her own, classrooms of kids to teach, and aging parents to keep an eye on. Her plate was more than full. Oh, and she had a wedding shower to plan. How had that slipped her mind?

  Cheyenne finished her errands, then headed back to the library to pick up Grace. Her wild child was on a step stool in the kids section, arranging a series of books on top of a short shelf. She grinned when Cheyenne ran a hand over her crazy hair. “Did you help Katie or make her more work?”

  “Oh, she definitely helped,” Katie assured her, coming from the opposite end of the aisle, a stack of books in her hand. “And she started learning how to reset books.” She leaned close to Cheyenne, her eyes shining. “That girl is smart, now. Everything I told her to do she did. She can help out any time.”

  Cheyenne blinked, a little skeptical. “Really?”

  “Definitely. Tell me about the coffee shop. Was it terrible?”

  Wincing, she shook her head. “No, sorry. It was pretty charming actually.”

  “Shoot,” Katie sighed. “Okay, thanks for checking it out for me.”

  Kate nodded, moving away back down the aisle.

  Grace stepped down off the step stool to look at her handiwork. “What do you think Mama?”

  “You know, baby? I think it looks great. You did a fabulous job!”

  Gracie grinned, the gap in her teeth shining bright. “I wanna work here more, Mama. Miss Katie is interesting. She knows about all these books in here.”

  Cheyenne quirked an eyebrow. “Well, she is the librarian. I think she reads everything she orders.”

  Gracie looked thoughtful as she gazed around the library. “No way, she read all these?”

  Cheyenne nodded. “Think so. That’s what she does when she’s not in her garden.”

  Seems like that’s what she said a while ago, if Cheyenne remembered right.

  Katie had moved here a few years ago, settling into the new library like she’d always been here. They’d gone out as a group of girls a few times- Cheyenne, her best friend Payton, a few teachers from school and Katie. Cheyenne enjoyed her very much and she, Payton and Katie had developed a close friendship.

  With a final wave they headed for the front door.

  “I don’t wanna leave, Mama.”

  “I know, baby, but we have to. I have ice cream in the car.”

  That sent a bolt of electricity through Grace. In no time she was down the front steps and waiting at the door of Cheyenne’s SUV. Ice cream was an incredible motivator.

  The other two girls weren’t due back until dinner time, so she sent Grace to the kitchen table, then started putting the rest of the groceries away. Her daughter chattered about everything that she’d done that day, though she’d just relayed everything the first time just a few minutes ago. Cheyenne listened to her with half an ear, her mind distracted by thoughts of the sheriff. After a few minutes of white noise behind her, her ear caught outside. She turned to her daughter, looking at her directly. “Listen to me, Grace Elaina, you stay in the fenced part of the yard. No excuses, young lady. And no water!”

  Grace waved as she hustled through the door. “Yes, Mama!”

  Cheyenne shook her head, looking out the kitchen sink window at her precocious daughter bolting through the yard to the doghouse at the far end. Daisy, the Australian Cattle dog they’d inherited, ran out to meet her, jumping joyously and nipping at the girl’s ankles. Of the two of them, she thought Daisy might be the more trustworthy one.

  Savannah and Carolyn had been wonderful little children, still were, but she could see them maturing into girls. Yes, they’d been curious growing up, but they’d never given her gray hairs like Grace seemed determined to do. Just the other day the girl had literally run the well dry making mud for her ‘facials’. Cheyenne hadn’t dared do laundry for days, giving it time to recover. They were in the middle of a drought, after all.

  That wasn’t as bad as the time she’d gone into the field to help a calf and been mown down by the mother, ending up with a broken leg in the process. Then, sensing freedom, the cow had guided a dozen of her best buddies through the open man gate and into Cheyenne’s already struggling garden. Daisy had been barking her head off at them, which had alerted Cheyenne. Grace had been caterwauling in pain, almost louder than Daisy. By the time they’d gotten home in the wee hours of the morning, some of the Blue Star ranch hands had gotten the cows put away, but her garden had been a total loss. The only thing that had survived were a few green bean vines.

  She shook her head, smiling. Grace and her animals… almost as bad as she had been when she’d been a kid.

  Anytime Cheyenne looked for sympathy from her own mother, Francine would only smile and gaze out over the back yard as she hand-washed her dishes. Usually she’d come back with an Oh Cheyenne, when you were young story, even wilder than what Grace had done. It was only appropriate that her daughter gave her as many gray hairs as she had her own mother.

  Cheyenne watched her daughter spin on the swing. If she tried to do that she’d probably throw up.

  She wasn’t as young as she used to be.

  It wasn’t like she was getting decrepit or anything, but things were beginning to change. It was a little harder to keep the weight off, and she thought of how much something would hurt rather than how much fun it would be to do. Maybe that was why Grace was stressing her out so much. She’d been just like Grace years ago and had all the broken bones she ever wanted to talk about. In a way it had been part of her disastrous marriage too. As a girl she’d ridden barrels in the rodeo. That was where she’d met the kids’ father.

  Snorting, she turned for the fridge, pulling a bag of marinated chicken from the shelf. She had better things to think about than that low-life. Kids would be home soon and maybe she could talk her mom and dad into staying for dinner. Daddy hadn’t been getting out much since his accident. But then, it had only been a couple weeks since he’d had his heart attack. She knew the entire family was happy he was getting around as well as he was. The town had been pulling for him too. Two days after the accident they’d had an entire crew show up to help them finish the spring calf round up. Cheyenne had known the family names but none of them individually. When you lived in the wilds of Texas like they did, it didn’t matter if you knew people or not. You helped out.

  It had been the same when she’d been brutalized. It was a good thing her soon-to-be ex husband had been dragged away because he probably wouldn’t have survived the justice he’d have received here.

  She glanced out the window, wondering why her ex was on her mind so much today. Maybe because of Grace’s question earlier. Grace was still spinning in the tire swing, oblivious to everything but how much fun she was having. Daisy danced below her, nipping at the girl’s flowing red hair.

  Cheyenne was so thankful that all three of them followed her genetics more than Wade’s, though Carolyn had definitely gotten her father’s dark brown eyes and his sharp humor. The other two g
irls were more red haired and light eyed like Cheyenne, Grace taking after her the most. The poor girl was almost her carbon copy.

  Savannah, her middle child, looked more like Francine, her grandmother. Something about the shape of her face. And her sweet, giving disposition was more like Francine’s as well, which Grace had already figured out. Poor Savannah got into so much trouble because of Grace’s shenanigans.

  Cheyenne peeled and cut potatoes for mashing and put them on to boil. She was just stirring up some pudding when she heard a truck pull into the drive. Within seconds Carolyn and Savannah ran in to hug her, chattering about what was going on at the ranch. Her father came in next, leaning heavily on a silver cane. His right arm was still in the sling. When he’d fallen from the horse, he’d landed on his arm, breaking it in three places. A plate had been put in to secure the pieces together, but it was healing slowly.

  His lined faced cracked into a broad smile though when he saw her. Reaching up, Cheyenne removed his tan hat and kissed his cheek. “Hi Daddy. I’ll put this by the door.”

  “I forgot to do it when I came in,” he apologized.

  Her mother shook her head. “You’d think he’d never set foot in a house before,” she laughed.

  Cheyenne hugged her mother and gave her a kiss on her soft cheek. “Hi, Mama. The girls give you any trouble?”

  Francine made a face. “Of course not. They were really helpful. We got everything sorted and ready for the sale. The spare room hasn’t been this clean in ages.”

  “Good!”

  She moved to the front hallway and plopped her father’s hat on a hook, then returned to the kitchen. Daddy had sat down at the head of the table, like she’d expected him to, and her mother was sniffing the mashed potatoes. “This looks lovely,” she said. “We came ready to eat.”

  “Well, about ten more minutes and it’ll all be ready,” Cheyenne promised.

  They had a lovely meal and the girls cleaned up afterward, then they disappeared into the depths of the house to get ready for bed. They had school tomorrow, so they all needed to get cleaned up. There was never enough time for them all to do it in the morning.

  Cheyenne refilled her mom and dad’s tea glasses, letting the silence of the room settle in. The sun was beginning to set beyond the windows and a few birds flew around, looking for a place to roost for the night.

  “I saw Sheridan today.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Actually, she made a funny movement with her mouth like she was biting the inside of her lip.

  “He was at the house the other day. Insurance company wanted me to file a report about those missing calves. So I did.”

  “I didn’t know you had missing calves.”

  Francine leaned forward, resting a hand on her husband’s leg. “We didn’t realize we did until almost a week after we got your daddy home from the hospital. Brock thought the gate had been left open accidentally. It took a while to even realize the cattle were missing.”

  That was understandable. The Blue Star ran several thousand cattle at any one time, as well as several hundred horses. Keeping track of every single animal all the time could be daunting. Brock did a good job with it though. And Jackson, the foreman, did a good job as well.

  “So, where did you see him, Cheyenne?”

  Cheyenne blinked, looking at her mother. That question had been very carefully spoken and something about her mother’s expression seemed a little too interested. “I ran into him at the new coffee shop in town. I kind of freaked out when he grabbed my arm to keep me from falling.”

  Her parents winced together, almost as if they were truly connected. But the more disconcerting thing that struck her was that they both knew how much being touched would affect her. Had she been that messed up all this time?

  “It was okay, actually. I realized that my reaction to him was overblown, so I invited him in for coffee.”

  Her mother’s pale blue eyes, so like her own, lit with excitement. “Really? Did he accept?”

  Cheyenne nodded once.

  “And what did you talk about?”

  “Well, terrible kids,” she laughed.

  Francine nodded her head. “That girl of his is going to send him to his grave.”

  Suddenly looking horrified, she looked at her husband, but he was looking out the window at the kids, and hadn’t seemed to notice. She closed her eyes for a moment before visibly gathering herself together and continuing on. “I know it has to be hard losing your mother at such a young age, but Cora Williams’ granddaughter says that Olivia is a wild child. And that her father has no idea how bad Olivia is.”

  Cheyenne winced, hoping that was just gossip. Sheridan was a good guy. Even as close as she was with her girls, she could understand how it hard it could be raising a teenager alone. “Cora Williams’ granddaughter is also a goody two-shoes, Mama. You know that.”

  She was dreading life in a few years. All three of her girls would be teenagers at the same time.

  Maybe she could pawn them off…

  Nah… no one would take that many redheads together.

  “You know,” her mother said softly, “I think Sheridan used to be sweet on you.”

  Cheyenne took a deep breath, wondering why that little curl of excitement zinged through her. She wasn’t in the market for a man. Even one as handsome as the sheriff.

  “I think you’re seeing what you want to see, Mama, and you have weddings on the brain.”

  Her parents left a little while later, after kissing the girls goodbye.

  The four of them stood there looking down the drive as the Blue Star truck disappeared. “I’m glad Granpa is better now,” Savannah said softly, leaning into her mother’s side.

  Yes, she was too. When the call had first gone out that something had happened her heart had almost leapt from her chest and panic had halted her in her tracks. She loved her parents more than she could ever say. Their romance was truly something. A love like theirs came along only once in a great while. Years ago, she’d imagined finding a love like that herself. In the background was a strong man who appreciated her for what she did and who she was, not who he wanted her to be.

  She looked down at her girls. They were the reason she got up every day and lived a life she hoped they would learn from and grow into young women who understood strength and honor and what love is really about.

  “I know, honey. I am too. You dirty munchkins need to get inside and get cleaned up for school tomorrow.”

  “Munchkins? Really Mom?”

  “Yes, Carolyn.”

  They grumbled and procrastinated, but eventually she got them moving in the right direction.

  She didn’t have time in her life for daydreaming.

  Chapter 3

  Sheridan took a deep breath and wondered how many people would come running if he started to yell. It was well-known in the department that the madder he got, the softer his voice. But he was beyond livid right now. He was very close to losing his shit.

  “When did they release him?”

  The voice on the other end of the line seemed to hear the threat in his voice, because Sheridan could hear computer keys clacking. Fast. “It looks like three days ago. Well, technically four. He was released at midnight.”

  “So, you’re telling me he’s had four days in my county without supervision? Why wasn’t I notified? I know for a fact the warden placed a notification form in his file when I brought him in. What about the victim, Cheyenne Lowell? Was she notified?”

  There was more clacking on the keys. “Uh, no sir. There’s no note of it.”

  Sheridan slammed the phone into the cradle and pushed away from his desk. As he left his office he jammed his hat onto his head.

  “Did I just hear what I think I did?” Marlene asked.

  Sheridan nodded once, parking his hands on his gun belt as he paused at her desk. He waved at her computer. “Can you check and see if dispatch has had any strange reports recently. Break-ins, th
efts. And let me know if the Lowells or Blue Star have called anything in.”

  She focused on the screen, pushing her bifocals up her nose. Within seconds she was shaking her head. “No reports of anything since you responded to the cattle theft.”

  A bit of tension eased from his spine and he glanced up at the clock. School had started an hour ago. “Marlene, I don’t know if Wade is coming back, but I’m going to slide over to the school and talk to Cheyenne. I don’t know why the prison missed that bright pink form I filled out, but remind me to call Warden Thomas tomorrow. Somebody needs their ass kicked for this.”

  She nodded and jotted the note in her book. “Sheridan, do you mind if I ask my girls if they’ve seen anything?”

  Sheridan pursed his lips in thought. As much as he hated to admit it, Marlene's Naughty Book Club group had produced as many if not more tips than regular BOLOs. “Yeah, that’s fine, but subtly. I mean as sneaky as possible. You get me? There’s no sense in making people paranoid.”

  She nodded her perfectly coiffed head. “Yes, sir.”

  “And give me at least two hours,” he muttered. “I need to tell Cheyenne first. Fuck, this is going to be bad.”

  Marlene’s face softened. “That girl has had the worst luck. And you know, Wade Shipton used to be a good nut. We had him in church for years with his family. But he fell in with that rodeo crowd and they ruined him. He was never the same after he came back that last time from being busted up by that bull.”

  “I know,” he sighed.

  Actually, he’d been friendly with Wade when he’d seen him around town. But Marlene was partially right. After he’d been gored, his riding career had been over, but the pain hadn’t. In his mind’s eye, Sheridan could see him tossing back pills like it was just yesterday, when in fact it had been several years past. Those pills had changed Wade. Or maybe the pain had. Or the bitterness of not being able to ride anymore. Hell, who knew?