The Kentucky Cowboy's Baby

by Heidi Hormel

  “None of that’s your business, lady. The police chief here says I’m good to go,” he snapped back, his storm-cloud-gray eyes locked on hers.

  “That may be but as a health care professional, I have a duty to ensure that any child is not being abused or neglected.” She made sure her tone let this cowboy know that he wasn’t fit to care for a chicken, let alone a precious little human being.

  “Mama,” the toddler whimpered and rubbed her forehead into the crook of Pepper’s neck.

  “Chief, you’ve got to let me examine her. Who knows how long she was in the sun?”

  “Fine. Come on, Mr. McCreary, let’s get this settled,” Rudy said.

  Pepper hesitated for a second. McCreary. That last name struck a chord. She needed to focus on the little girl. Her daddy didn’t look like a bad guy. He had dark hair like his daughter’s, though his had an unruly curl around his nape and ears. But the little girl hadn’t gotten her mink-brown eyes from him. He didn’t look or act like an abuser. An outlaw, maybe, a bad-boy rodeo cowboy. Still, it was her duty to make sure the toddler was being cared for properly. She had to give the girl a good once-over.

  Followed by the chief and the cowboy holding his daughter’s stuffed animal, Pepper carried EllaJayne on her hip, coming out of the building that housed the town hall, the police station, a real estate office, and a law office. The clinic was half a block down on the right, across from the Angel Crossing Emporium of Wonders. The sign, with its painted roadrunner and mountain lion, always made her smile, even though the emporium had closed long ago. The mayor was trying to get a grant to hire artists to paint the plywood and “refresh” the sign to make the town look less abandoned.

  The facades along the main road, which was picturesquely called Miners Gulch, had been added in the 1970s to entice tourists to the town, as the nearby mine and the county’s biggest employer started to close its operations. Tourists hadn’t been lured in, but the townsfolk had come to love the signs that gave the vibe of a Spaghetti Western set. Or a bona fide ghost town. The problem was a ghost town was a dead town. With no good jobs, Angel Crossing was edging toward that as the younger residents scattered to the wind. Pepper was the exception, rather than the rule. Although technically, she wasn’t local, not having moved to town until she was seven.

  Today wasn’t the day to worry about Angel Crossing. She had a little darling in her arms who needed her attention. Like the old-timey facades, her clinic had the feeling of a bygone era. It served residents well enough, even if it housed more than one piece of equipment that should have been in a museum. She did what she could for her patients, many of them retired and living on minuscule pensions and Social Security. She regularly had to beg, borrow and nearly steal supplies, especially free samples. She knew of more than one patient who skimped on medications to pay for food. That’s why the garden would make such a difference.

  “Oggie,” EllaJayne said into Pepper’s ear, reaching out with her hand and flexing her fingers. Pepper followed her gesture and saw the girl’s cowboy daddy, still holding onto the flattened stuffed animal she’d given him. The man had a hitch in his step that didn’t keep her from noticing his rodeo swagger. He needed a hat. What cowboy didn’t have a hat? It would have shaded his handsome face. Pepper knew trouble and she didn’t need anyone to tell her this guy was that plus more. She also didn’t need anyone to tell her that his kind of trouble could give a woman memories to warm up her nights.

  Pepper focused on the bundle in her arms as she walked into Angel Crossing Medical Clinic. “I’m going to Exam One,” she said to Claudette, her right-hand woman at the reception desk.

  “Who is this?” asked Claudette, her short dark hair streaked with highlights and spiked to fit her warrior-woman attitude in a grandmother’s body.

  “We’ll give you everything as soon as I’m done with the exam.” The ring of boot heels followed Pepper. An uneven sound. She glanced back and caught the man grimacing. No time to worry about that.

  “Okay, little darling, let’s just see how your ‘daddy’ was caring for you.” She ignored the snort from the cowboy.

  She put him and everything else out of her mind, concentrating on the girl and the exam. She didn’t want to miss anything. But other than the dirty diaper—which Pepper changed from her own supplies—and a little diaper rash, the toddler was fine.

  “So?” he asked when she finished with the final tug of the girl’s T-shirt.

  “What about her vaccinations?”

  “I... I... Of course she’s had them. I have papers in the truck.”

  He didn’t know. “Allergies?”

  He stood feet planted and long fingers tapping against his leg. “It’s all in her records. She’s fine. You just said so.”

  She’d been working with patients ever since she’d started as an EMT in her teens, and read annoyance in the tightness of his mouth. She also saw fear in the tilt of his head. What to do? The child looked fine.

  “You’re good to go, then, but little ones are quicker than their parents think and can easily get into things they shouldn’t. Let’s go see if Claudette can’t find cream for the rash.” Pepper scooped up the girl and walked out. The exam room as they’d stood there had suddenly gotten smaller. She’d started to think trouble might be what she needed in her life. Because trouble had started to look a lot like a good time, which she hadn’t had since...forever. Then smart Pepper reminded not-so-smart Pepper he was a patient’s father...and a cowboy. The kind of man she’d long ago figured out wasn’t for her. They might look pretty, but the shine wore off quickly.

  She kept her gaze on Claudette and glanced at Chief Rudy, who had an odd look on his face as he stared down at his phone.

  “What?” she asked because it was obvious that something had just popped up on the screen.

  “I ran his name, but, well, I didn’t connect it... Hell—”

  This was bad. The chief didn’t swear. It was a contest in town to see who could make him curse when they got pulled over or visited the station. The man just didn’t get provoked, and if he did, he didn’t say bad words. So that meant whatever he’d just discovered was horrible.

  “His name is Arthur John McCreary.”

  “Everybody calls me AJ,” the cowboy said irritably.

  “You’re Daddy Gene’s cousin.” The words popped out of her mouth in shock as the connection fell into place.

  “Yeah, Gene is...was my cousin. I told you that.” His voice had thickened with true emotion.

  “Welcome to Angel Crossing,” Rudy said. “Sorry the circumstances aren’t better. Gene was a good man and a good friend.”

  “Thanks,” AJ said and added, “I should have known. How many Peppers could there be in Angel Crossing?” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Gene talked about you and your mama. Please accept my condolences.”

  She nodded. Now she remembered him. He rode bulls and had dragged Daddy Gene from the ring when the animals had nearly stomped him to death. The one or two pictures she’d seen of AJ, his black hat had nearly covered his face.

  “I guess I should take you to the ranch. Faye would never forgive me if I didn’t bring you out to say hello. Daddy Gene hoped you’d come for a visit one day, but I don’t think this is how he imagined it.”

  Chapter Two

  Pepper’s directions to Gene’s ranch had included exact mileages, road names and landmarks. Even in the sameness of the rocky terrain, dotted with gray-green bushes and low trees, he’d easily found the turnoff that wound through a short downhill drive. Flatlands opened up for a distance before moving into another set of foothills that rolled into mountains. The ranch included a low house, outbuildings and corrals. The animals milling around ranged in color from white to shadows-at-noon black. But they weren’t cattle or horses or even goats.

  He checked his rearview mirror t
o see his daughter, who was eerily quiet. Her head swiveled back and forth as she looked out the windows, staring wide-eyed, her lost-all-its-stuffing dog clutched tight in her fist.

  Contrary as any McCreary, after days on the road wishing she’d quiet down, he wanted noise from his daughter now so he could stop thinking about Pepper. She somehow made scrubs look as good as painted-on jeans and a tight cowgirl shirt. She actually looked better than the buckle bunnies who’d been the honey to his bee for years. EllaJayne’s mama had been Miss Kentucky Rodeo two years before he’d met her.

  He stopped the truck in front of the house that had a lumpy outline of clearly unplanned additions. It had been Gene’s home. He’d talked of the ranch with a lot of pride. Gene had retired from the rodeo circuit after a string of bad wrecks. Both Danny and AJ had tried to talk him out of it because he was the best at reading the animals. They’d been young and hadn’t understood what it meant to have a body that had been battered and broken again and again.

  AJ knew he couldn’t stall any longer. Though he hated to intrude, his nearly maxed-out credit card and flat wallet told him otherwise. He had to swallow that pride and ask—beg for—their hospitality. He’d stay for the memorial, then move on. He’d come west for a brand-new start where no one had heard of the McCrearys of Pinetown, Kentucky.

  He held EllaJayne firmly in his arms when he knocked on the weathered door. Up close, the ranch house looked like a cross between a trailer and a cabin.

  “There you are,” said the woman who opened the door. “Come in.” Obviously, this was Faye, just as Gene had described her: “Stevie Nicks who bought her duds at Sheplers and her jewelry at swap meets.” She stepped back, pushing a drape of gray-streaked hair with strips of color like her daughter’s out of her watchful green eyes.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, finally remembering the manners that had been knocked into him with a spatula and fly swatter.

  “Oh, my,” she said as tears filled her eyes. “Don’t you have the look of Gene? It’s just like he’s here. And those nice manners.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He and Gene looked nothing alike.

  “And who is the gorgeous baby? Yours. Look at that hair, that skin. Oh, my, but she’ll be a beauty. Come here, sweetheart,” Faye said and held her hands out to his daughter. The little girl went right to her. “I bet I have a cookie you’d like. You can call me Grana. I always wanted someone to call me that. I’m in the Crone phase of my womanhood. The most powerful. You are in the Baby phase, still finding your power. But don’t worry. It’s there.”

  He followed her closely in the wake of the deep scent of incense and sharp desert herbs. “Ma’am,” he tried, “I’m here to—”

  “Have you eaten? No. I can see you haven’t. Sit.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I know that I should have called as soon as Gene...passed. But I’m here to pay my respects and attend the memorial.”

  She waved a thin, elegant hand covered in silver and turquoise. “Gene understood. He spoke of you often. Now, I’ll fix you a plate and give this little one a cookie.”

  “Ma’am,” AJ interrupted. “I don’t want to put you out at a time like this.”

  “A time like what?”

  Jeez. Gene had told him that his wife and he...well, actually not his legally wed wife. They had never married. AJ said gently, “A sad time like this.”

  “Sad?” She laughed brightly and his daughter joined in. “We’re celebrating Gene’s life. That can never be sad.” Faye walked through a listing doorway into a kitchen filled with brightly painted cabinets and mismatched appliances.

  “Now,” she went on, “you’re a Taurus and you’ve been traveling, so I think you need scrambled tofu, with sprouted bread, yogurt...no, not yogurt...kefir. Then I’ll move in with Pepper so you can have my room.”

  “Please, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Of course, you’ll stay here. It’s what Gene would have wanted.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” he protested politely, even though he’d planned to ask for such hospitality.

  “I couldn’t let Gene’s family stay anywhere else.” Tears filled her voice and she squeezed EllaJayne closer to her.

  AJ couldn’t afford to protest too strongly. “If you insist, ma’am.”

  “Perfect. This food will balance you, and then you’ll have a wonderful night’s sleep. Here. Hold your daughter while I finish.” She plopped the little girl into his arms and magically produced a chunky cookie that EllaJayne immediately started gnawing.

  “What’s in there?” he asked. This cookie looked like it might have all kinds of things that were bad for babies. Except what were those things? Chocolate? No, that was dogs. What had the website said?

  Faye crossed to the stove. “Wheat germ, oats... You ride bulls, Gene said, and you’re a Taurus. Isn’t it wonderful the way the universe makes things like that work?”

  “Used to ride bulls.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think the universe will like that.” She turned to him and a frown marred her surprisingly smooth brow.

  “I don’t think the universe is very happy with me right now.” EllaJayne looked up at him, the cookie in one hand.

  “No,” she said clearly. The one word she said regularly and loudly. Her brow wrinkled. Uh-oh. He knew that look. That was the look that meant something smelly was going to come out of one end or the other. Really, Universe, what have I ever done to you?

  * * *

  PEPPER EXPECTED TO see Daddy Gene come around the side of the house and onto the patio, to greet everyone with a big shout and a laugh, then smooth his handlebar mustache into place before announcing that it was time to get the party started. Except that wouldn’t be happening. Faye had tried to make it festive with lights strung around the patio and a table laden with food. Of course, everyone knew the kinds of dishes Faye cooked so a number of pies, casseroles and platters had magically appeared, too.

  Pepper saw the mayor chatting with Gene’s cousin AJ. The man and his daughter had stayed with them last night at Faye’s insistence. Pepper had been so busy between work and getting everything set for the memorial that she’d only been home to sleep. Pepper turned away, not sure exactly what she was feeling. Today was a celebration, she reminded herself, but the weight of responsibility made her shoulders ache. Daddy Gene had been a part of her life since he’d shown up at the commune. Pepper had only been five years old, but she’d known he was the kind of man they both could count on. Now what?

  “It’s time,” Faye announced. “We’re here to celebrate the life of my lover, companion and soul mate.” Then she started singing “Witchy Woman” while the silence got increasingly uncomfortable.

  Dear Lord. Angel Crossing had more or less accepted Faye...they’d loved Daddy Gene and he and Faye were a package deal. Alone, Faye might be just a little too filled with hippie hokum.

  Danny stepped up to Faye and stopped her swaying, off-key rendition mercifully short. “That was one of Gene’s favorites. You know, he was my mentor... AJ and I wouldn’t have stayed on any bull without Gene. He could read those animals like most men read the want ads.” Nods rippled through the crowd. Faye smiled at Danny. It might just work out okay. “I’ll miss Gene, just like all of us will. But I know he wanted us to have a good time tonight. Drink a little beer—his favorite, Lone Star—jaw a bit and eat good food...and I see the tables are filled. To Gene.” Danny lifted his beer bottle and everyone joined in.

  Pepper turned away to pull herself together. A celebration, she told herself again. She could do this for Daddy Gene. This one last thing for him. The man who’d been her father and the one person she could count on no matter what. “Love you, Daddy Gene,” she said quietly, looking out toward the mountains dark against the brilliant pinks, purples and reds of the sunset. “Thanks for the show.” She smiled and then wiped away the
tears. Time to honor a life well lived. She wouldn’t remember those last days of illness and pain. She’d remember him laughing. That was her favorite Daddy Gene.

  * * *

  “FAYE ASKED ME to do the reading of the will tonight.”

  Pepper stared at Bobby Ames, Angel Crossing’s attorney and part-time taxidermist.

  He went on, “Everyone grab a seat. This won’t take long.”

  They were in the living room of the ranch house, sitting on an assortment of chairs salvaged from roadside garbage piles or built by Faye’s friends.

  “Come along, Pepper Moonbeam,” Faye said, formal and stiff. She’d been holding back her sadness tonight so they could “rejoice in” Daddy Gene’s life, not mourn his death. Pepper knew how tough that was as she’d worked over and over to hold her own tears in check. He’d been gone for just a month. They’d scattered his ashes weeks ago, but today was the real goodbye and much more painful than the one at his bedside. She didn’t understand what the lawyer was doing. Gene had left the ranch to Faye, what else could the will say? My god, he’d named the place for her: Santa Faye Ranch.

  Pepper sat and waited for the attorney to speak again, a moment out of a soap opera or a telenovela. Bobby Ames finally started to read the will. Daddy Gene named a couple of friends and gave them his riding gear and two of his trophies. Then Bobby Ames did the strangest thing. He put the will down, sucked in a breath and spoke in a voice that Pepper was sure he’d learned from Law and Order. “I want to let you know that if Gene had come to me... I’ll just read this, then you can ask questions.”

  What had Daddy Gene done? Put the rest of the will in verse? Or maybe he’d set up a scavenger hunt for the remaining items, like his bear-claw necklace. That would be like him. He’d been just a big kid at heart.

  “The ranch goes to my cousin and savior, Arthur John McCreary.”