The Lawman

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “And an angel sometimes.” She smiled. “I—”

  He tensed and glanced out into the darkness.

  She started to speak and he pressed a hand over her mouth. Then she heard the voice.

  “Right there, you dummy!” came the harsh male whisper. “A dark blue pickup!”

  She shivered as if someone had thrown ice water over her. Joe slowly extricated himself from the blanket and his hand closed over the neck of the champagne bottle.

  “Nobody’s in it,” said another man.

  “But somebody drove it out here,” said the first speaker.

  Leigh didn’t recognize either voice.

  She could feel the transformation in Joe. With stealthy movements, he reached for his clothes and put them on with an amazing lack of noise. Excitement radiated from him, and she remembered seeing him this way twice before—once when the bull had charged at him and then again when the dam had burst. So this was the demon within him she had to fight.

  “I don’t like it,” said the first speaker. “Somebody’s around. Let’s go back.”

  “He won’t be happy if we do,” said the second man.

  “Who gives a damn if he’s happy? Come on.”

  Joe pulled on his boots too hastily, causing one heel to scrape against an exposed part of the truck bed.

  “There!” said the first man. “Someone’s here!” His exclamation was followed by the sound of boots scrambling against sand and rocks.

  Joe leapt from the truck bed, the champagne bottle in his hand as he started in the direction of the running men.

  Leigh peered into the shadows created by creosote bushes and cactus. Joe couldn’t run through there without getting something stuck in him, but she knew better than to call out and tell him that. Then came the distinct thud of hooves pounding the desert floor. The men were escaping on horseback.

  Soon afterward, Joe reappeared in the clearing and walked over to the truck bed. “They got away. Did you recognize either of the voices?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s your flashlight?”

  “Under the seat, but the batteries are dead.”

  “What the hell good is a flashlight with dead batteries?” The question cracked like a whip in the still night.

  “Nobody’s made a trip into town to get fresh ones recently!” she retorted, struggling into her clothes. “My God, you sound as if having dead batteries were a crime.”

  “They could cause a crime. I can’t believe you were willing to drive out, here in the middle of the night without a working flashlight. There’s a dangerous jerk on the loose somewhere on this ranch. What if I hadn’t come with you?”

  “I wouldn’t have to listen to this tongue-lashing!”

  “Every vehicle should have a working flashlight,” he insisted stubbornly.

  “Oh, stuff it, Officer Gilardini. I’ll drive you to the ranch so you can pick up your working flashlight, since I’m sure you have one in that Chevy of yours. Then you can come back out here and prowl around to your heart’s content, doing your cop thing.”

  They drove to the ranch in tense silence. When they reached it, she turned off the engine and left the keys in the ignition. “Take the truck when you go out again,” she said. “Your Cavalier will bottom out on the ruts.”

  “Thanks.”

  Scooping up the champagne flutes from the seat, she opened her door and stepped down from the truck.

  “I warned you,” he said, opening his door.

  She leaned her head against the cool metal of the door. “Yes, you did.” She glanced up at him “Did you run into any cactus when you took off after them?”

  He shrugged.

  “You did, didn’t you? I suppose you still have thorns in a few places. Let’s go inside and I’ll—”

  “A few thorns won’t kill me. I need to get back out there before anything gets disturbed.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “Yes, you did warn me, didn’t you?”

  He met her comment with silence. She turned and walked toward the house under stars that suddenly seemed cold and very far away.

  * * *

  EVEN WITH A FLASHLIGHT, Joe didn’t find anything of value. The ground was too rocky to have recorded much in the way of footprints or hoofprints. A sophisticated crime lab might have been able to do something, but Ry didn’t want Joe calling anyone in on the investigation. Used to dealing with a support system, Joe was discovering just what a hindrance working on his own could be. If only he could have caught one of those guys. Someone had sent them out to the homestead site, and he’d bet good money that the someone was the perp he was looking for. He wondered what the homestead had to do with it all.

  Finally, he gave up and drove back to the dark ranch house. He wondered if Leigh was asleep. He doubted it, just as he doubted that he’d sleep much in the hours that were left of the night. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. A lot of years had gone into making him the man he was. One night of lovemaking, no matter how terrific it had been, couldn’t alter how he approached life, no matter how much she might wish it would.

  * * *

  FOR KYLE’S SAKE, Leigh exuded good cheer all through breakfast the next morning. To his credit, Joe made the same attempt. All three of them walked out the front door of the ranch house looking as if they were the best of friends. The falsity of it made Leigh’s heart ache.

  As they started to get into Leigh’s truck for the trip to the corrals, Pope drove up in his rented BMW. He climbed from behind the wheel, and Leigh stared. “I believe we have a catalog cowboy on our hands,” she muttered under her breath.

  “A what?” Kyle asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” she said.

  Pope adjusted his white Stetson and walked toward them. Leigh hoped he’d think her smile came from friendliness and not amusement. It was hard to keep a straight face looking at that pristine white felt. Apparently, Pope hadn’t heard that modern-day good guys wore black hats. He walked a little stiffly in his new jeans and didn’t seem quite used to the heels on his boots. The boots alone would have attracted Leigh’s complete attention, decorated as they were with bucking broncos in amazing shades of red, purple and green against a white background that was supposed to coordinate, she guessed, with the hat.

  Joe propped his hands on his hips and gazed at Pope. Then he turned to Kyle. “I think your equestrian’s here.”

  Kyle looked his stepfather over, from the tip of his outrageous boots to the crown of his white Stetson. “Guess so.”

  Leigh bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Kyle was definitely picking up a cowboy’s gift for understatement.

  “I’ll take the boy with me,” Pope said.

  Joe nudged his hat to the back of his head. “I dunno. Looks like you might have trouble driving in that getup.”

  “I would expect that sort of comment from you, Gilardini. Come on, Kyle.”

  Kyle looked to Joe for confirmation, and Leigh wondered if Joe would kick up a fuss. Instead, he nodded to his son and Kyle trooped off to the BMW with Pope.

  Leigh and Joe got into the pickup and led the way to the corrals. “I was sure you’d insist that Kyle ride with us,” she said as they started off.

  “No use trying to hang a guy when he looks determined to hang himself. When I found out he was an equestrian, as he puts it, I decided to sit back and watch the fun.”

  “I hope that’s what it turns out to be. To be honest, I don’t look forward to putting up with him all morning.”

  “Probably not any more than you look forward to putting up with me.”

  She shot a glance in his direction. Dammit, no matter how much he frustrated and irritated her, he still had the power to twist her heart. She wanted to stop the truck, take that stubborn face in both hands and kiss that grim mouth until she connected with the passionate man who had loved her so well the night before.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,
” he said.

  “For what?” Once before she’d leapt to a conclusion about his apology. She was determined not to do it again.

  “For making an issue of the flashlight.”

  Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I thought you might be apologizing for making love to me.”

  “Not in a million years.”

  The statement squeezed the air from her lungs. “Does...that mean you might be interested in trying it again sometime?”

  He groaned.

  “Joe?”

  “I can’t believe you have to ask,” he said softly.

  “I was afraid that—”

  “I would walk across hot coals to take you in my arms again, if you’re fool enough to want me.”

  She gulped as desire pounded through her. “I guess I am that much of a fool.” She parked the truck at the corrals and worked to control her trembling.

  Joe covered her hand with his as she reached to turn off the ignition. Her gaze swung up to meet the intensity in his gray eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His longing and confusion were reflected there for her to read. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through his. He gripped her hand tightly and the confusion gradually faded from his eyes. She smiled, and slowly, he smiled back.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered. “We’re keeping the equestrian waiting.”

  “Right.” With a final squeeze, he released her.

  13

  JOE NOTICED that Pope and Kyle had already started toward Penny Lover’s corral when he and Leigh left the truck. As Pope walked across the clearing, he collected stares and smirks from the cowboys he passed. Curtis was so busy watching Pope, he tossed a shovelful of manure down the front of Rusty’s shirt.

  Duane came out of the tack shed carrying a saddle and nearly dropped it when he saw Pope. “Who ya got there, Kyle?” he called when he recovered himself.

  “This is my stepdad, Em,” Kyle said.

  “Glad to know ya,” Duane said, his mustache twitching. “Thought for a second there it was Tom Mix hisself showed up at the True Love.”

  “I’m going to take him to see Spilled Milk,” Kyle said.

  “Then I’m going to show Kyle the correct procedure for riding a horse,” Pope said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d saddle one for me.”

  “What type ya want?”

  “Preferably one with spirit. I don’t want some worn-out trail pony.”

  “Okeydoke.” Duane nodded his head wisely. He stood and watched Kyle lead Pope away.

  “What do you think of our new equestrian?” Leigh asked as she and Joe approached Duane.

  “Is that what he is?” Duane spat into the dirt and hung the saddle over the hitching post. “I was wonderin’.”

  “How are mama and baby doing this morning?”

  Duane’s weathered face creased in a wide grin. “Them two made me plum glad to git up this mornin’. Penny Lover’s given us a fine little filly. A fine little filly.”

  “Well, I’m going over for a visit,” Leigh said. “Want to come with me, Joe?”

  Joe felt like following her to the ends of the earth, but he had to use some discretion. “I’d just as soon wait until Pope clears out of that area, if you don’t mind. I’m resolved not to punch the guy, but too much proximity and I might forget that resolve.”

  “Okay.” She sauntered over to the far corral.

  “Sweet on her, ain’tcha?” Duane asked.

  Joe realized he’d been staring after Leigh and felt a flush creep up his neck as he glanced at Duane.

  “Don’t blame ya none. ‘Scuse me. I have to call up to the house and check somethin’ with Ry.” He reappeared in less than three minutes. “Jist as I thought. Let’s you and me go catch a couple of horses.” He tossed Joe a bridle.

  Joe was pleased that Duane thought him enough of a ranch hand to assign him a chore. “Which ones?”

  “I’m gonna need Destiny so’s I can work him some before the rodeo comin’ up. You catch Red Devil for our equestrian over there.”

  “Red Devil? Ry’s horse?”

  “That’s what I jist checked. Asked Ry if he thought Red Devil had enough spirit for this feller who had to stay at a resort last night to git a decent meal. Ry thought Red Devil would do nicely.”

  Joe grinned. “Isn’t Red Devil kind of particular about who gets on him?”

  “Yep.”

  By the time Leigh, Kyle and Pope came back, Joe and Duane had saddled Red Devil. Joe found a piece of straw to chew on, leaned against the rough adobe walls of the tack shed, tipped his hat lower over his eyes and prepared to enjoy himself.

  Duane swung a saddle up on Destiny, the ranch’s best cutting horse, before glancing at Pope. “That horse should suit ya,” he said, tipping his head toward Red Devil.

  Leigh raised an eyebrow in Duane’s direction, but he pretended not to notice.

  “Fine-looking animal.” Pope adjusted his glasses and folded his arms.”

  “Jist go ahead and climb aboard,” Duane said. “I got some things to do, but I’ll be back to check on ya in a bit.”

  “No need. I want to put on a little demonstration for Kyle, here.”

  Duane swung up on Destiny. “Oh, I imagine you’ll do that.” He clucked to his horse and started around behind the tack shed.

  Leigh put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Let’s go over in the shade of the tack shed while your stepdad shows us what riding is all about.”

  “Okay.” Kyle walked with her over to the shed. After glancing at his dad, he picked up a piece of straw, stuck it in the corner of his mouth and propped himself against the wall in exact imitation of Joe’s stance, complete with one booted foot angled against the adobe.

  When Kyle tugged his hat down over his eyes, Joe had to chuckle, but he was secretly thrilled that Kyle admired him enough to copy his behavior.

  Pope seemed pleased to have an audience. He untied Red Devil’s reins from the hitching post with a flourish and looped them over the animal’s neck. Red Devil rolled his eyes and backed up a few steps.

  “Whoa, there, big fella,” Pope said, shuffling after him as he held the saddle horn.

  “Did Ry okay this?” Leigh asked in a low voice.

  “Absolutely.” Joe realized with delight that Pope was planning to mount Red Devil on the wrong side. He also noticed that Curtis and Rusty were both leaning on their shovels to watch.

  “You have to show them who’s boss, Kyle,” Pope said as he attempted to get his foot in the stirrup on the horse’s right side. Red Devil tossed his head and sidled away. “I can see this horse needs to learn a few manners.” Pope angled for the stirrup again, but Red Devil circled away from him and the stirrup twisted in his hand. Finally, Pope managed to shove his foot in, but Red Devil kept moving away from his intended rider, forcing Pope to hop after him in a circle, cursing under his breath. His cheek twitched as his tic started acting up.

  Joe bit down on his straw to keep from laughing out loud. After a few moments, Pope grabbed the saddle horn and lunged upward. The stirrup untwisted and he landed in the saddle facing Red Devil’s rump.

  “Is that a trick or something, Em?” Kyle asked.

  Joe almost choked on his piece of straw.

  Red-faced, Pope managed to clamber down before Red Devil tossed him off, which required some agility, Joe had to admit. The big gelding pawed the ground and snorted menacingly while Pope muttered to himself.

  “Comin’ through,” Duane called, riding out from behind the tack shed. He had a coiled rope in one hand as he casually herded Romeo into the clearing. Pope was concentrating on Red Devil and didn’t notice what was coming up behind him.

  Joe straightened and put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” Leigh whispered, laying her hand on Kyle’s other shoulder. “He’s very tame without that bull rope on him.”

  “How’re you doin’?” Duane asked Pope. “Thought you’d be on that horse by now.”

  “Nobody ta
ught this bag of bones how to stand still,” Pope said, starting to turn around. “I’d advise you to—”

  Joe had always thought “his eyes bugged out of his head” was just an expression, but that was exactly what happened with Emerson J. Pope. Then he opened his mouth, but he didn’t yell. He didn’t even scream. He squeaked. Joe had never heard such a peculiar sound in his life. Pope dropped Red Devil’s reins, turned tail and ran as fast as his new boots would carry him toward his rented BMW. His white hat flipped off and landed in the dirt, but he didn’t go back for it.

  As Joe, Leigh, Kyle, Duane, Curtis, Rusty and even Romeo watched in amazement, Pope spun the BMW in a dusty circle and bounced down the road going much faster over such rough terrain than the rental company would have appreciated.

  Kyle shook his head. “He’d never make it on the Enterprise.”

  Joe felt a stab of remorse. Kyle had to live with this guy, jerk that he was, for some of the year, at least. He crouched next to his son and cleared his throat. “And most of the time, that doesn’t matter. I’m sure the guy has his good points, too.”

  “Yeah.” Kyle grinned. “But he sure is a dweeb, isn’t he, Dad?”

  “I’m afraid he is,” Joe replied solemnly. “But dweeb or not, I’m going after him to smooth things over.” He stood and glanced at Leigh. “Think Ry would mind if I borrowed his horse?”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Leigh said, her brown gaze warm and encouraging.

  Red Devil tossed his head around some, but Joe managed to get aboard. As he started away from the corrals, Kyle ran after him holding Pope’s dust-covered hat. Joe leaned down and took it. “Thanks, buddy.”

  “I don’t want him to take me home yet,” Kyle said.

  “I know. That’s one reason I’m going after him.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Joe touched the brim of his hat, and Kyle touched his. Then Joe nudged Red Devil into a trot. He figured Pope would drive straight back to the resort instead of going to the ranch house, so he cut through the desert to head him off at the ranch’s entrance road. Red Devil was already agitated and seemed happy to pick up the pace. Lying low over the big horse’s neck, Joe savored the thrill of the chase. But this time, he wouldn’t be arresting someone at the end of it, he reminded himself. Worse yet, if he did his job right, he’d be making amends to a lawyer.