The Lawman

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He saw the cloud of dust to his left and coaxed Red Devil into a dead run. Horse and rider came out on the road a hundred yards ahead of the car. Red Devil reared, which nearly tossed Joe in the dirt but managed to get Pope’s attention. He braked the car and dust billowed everywhere.

  Joe got Red Devil under control and dismounted, keeping the reins in one hand. Pope climbed warily from his car. They eyed each other for several long seconds.

  “I’m sorry about what happened back there,” Joe said at last as he fingered the brim of the white Stetson. “The bull’s really tame, but you didn’t know that. The ranch hands have a twisted sense of humor, I’m afraid.”

  Pope nodded. “Once I was out of there, I realized they were only taunting me because I’m from New York. Is that the same bull that came at you and Kyle?”

  “Yeah. That time, they had him trussed up with something called a bull rope, and he was pretty ornery. Even so, the hands subdued him in seconds. The people on this ranch know what they’re doing. I realize what you and Darlene think, but Kyle’s probably as safe out here as he is in Manhattan.”

  “Are you going to be spending more time with him?”

  The question caught Joe off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “When Kyle called us, we got the impression you weren’t around much. He said that you were out on some sort of investigation. Darlene and I decided it was the same old story, that you hauled him out here but you didn’t plan to spend time with him. That’s one of the main reasons I came out, to be truthful.”

  Joe longed to strike back with some comment about the irony of a lawyer’s being truthful, but he thought of Kyle and restrained himself. “Yes, I’ll be spending more time with my son,” he said, allowing himself to emphasize the last part. “And while we’re on the subject, what’s this horse manure of you trying to adopt him?”

  “Look, I know cops. Darlene didn’t have to tell me about all the times you buried yourself in your work and acted as if she and Kyle didn’t exist. I thought you might even be relieved to end the charade of trying to be a father.”

  Joe clamped his back teeth together to keep from commenting on that with all the four-letter words it deserved. “You thought wrong,” he said, his voice deadly calm.

  “Well, Gilardini, it just so happens I have revised my opinion recently. All the way down to the corrals, Kyle talked about how great it was being here at the ranch with you.” He glanced back down the road he’d just driven in such haste, and sunlight glinted off the lens of his glasses. “Doesn’t appeal to me in the least, but Kyle seems happy. That’s the important thing. I asked Kyle how long he’d like to stay, and he said he didn’t want to leave until school started. That gives you another three weeks with him, if you want them.”

  The idea of accepting favors from Emerson J. Pope didn’t sit very well, but Joe realized that he was partially responsible for the situation turning out as it had. He hadn’t been the best husband and father in the world, and now it was pay-up time. “I want them,” he said.

  “Good. Then I’ll be flying out today. Can’t understand what you like about this godforsaken country.”

  “It grows on you.” Joe stepped forward. “Here’s your hat.”

  “Ah, keep it. I imagine you could use a good hat. Yours looks a little battered, if you don’t mind my saying so. You look more like one of your employees than an owner of the place.”

  “Thank you. You couldn’t have given me a better compliment.” Joe tossed the hat toward Pope and he caught it awkwardly. “But you keep the hat. It’s not my size.”

  “I would have thought it would fit perfectly.”

  “Nope.” Joe swung into the saddle. “Way too big. See you, Emerson.” Joe touched the brim of his hat and galloped down the road so Pope wouldn’t see the grin of triumph on his face. He’d managed to get in the last word, and that didn’t often happen with a lawyer. Life was good.

  * * *

  AS JOE APPROACHED the corrals, the sight that greeted him made him catch his breath. Leigh had taken Penny Lover out of her pen and was leading her around the clearing, with Spilled Milk following obediently behind. And on Penny Lover’s bare back, holding a fistful of mane and looking pleased with himself, was Kyle.

  “Hi, Dad,” he called, waving. “We’re a parade, see?”

  “I see.” His throat constricted as he realized what Leigh had accomplished by getting Kyle up on the mare all by himself. It was all part of a natural progression to rid him of his fears, and it was working. Another three weeks and Kyle would love the ranch every bit as much as Joe had hoped he would. All because of Leigh. Joe’s heart swelled with an emotion he’d skittered away from most of his adult life. And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel it.

  He walked Red Devil over to the hitching post, dismounted and tethered the horse. Patting him on the neck, he walked over to meet Leigh as she circled the clearing again. “Looking good,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Her expression sent him messages that sped up his heartbeat.

  “What did Em say?” Kyle asked.

  Joe dropped back to walk beside Penny Lover. “He’s heading home today, but he can see how much you like the True Love, so you can stay here until school starts, if you want.”

  “All right!” Kyle swiveled around to the foal ambling along behind. “Did you hear that, Milk?” He turned back to his father. “I call her Milk for short. It’s easier.”

  “I’m all for taking the easy way.”

  “Three weeks,” Kyle said. “Wow. Did you duke it out with him?”

  Joe glanced up at his son in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

  Kyle shrugged. “I know how mad he makes you. The way he talks and stuff.”

  “Well, I didn’t hit him. And I won’t. He’s your stepfather, and he cares about you. For that he deserves respect. From me and from you.”

  Kyle gazed at him and finally nodded. “Okay.”

  Leigh looked over her shoulder at them. “As long as Red Devil’s saddled, how about if we round up Mikey and Pussywillow and go for a little ride?”

  “Three horses?” Kyle asked.

  “Sure,” Leigh said, her tone nonchalant. “If you can ride Penny Lover with nothing to hold on to but a hunk of her mane, you can handle Mikey.”

  “Pussywillow’s smaller,” Kyle said. “How about her instead?”

  “Okay. Pussywillow it is. I’ll take Mikey.”

  Joe was ecstatic, but he took his cue from Leigh and didn’t make a big deal of the decision as they put Penny Lover and Spilled Milk into their pen and then saddled Mikey and Pussywillow. Leigh helped Kyle into the saddle, and although he looked a little nervous, he picked up the reins and nudged the gray mare with his heels as they set off down the road toward the old homestead with Leigh in front, Kyle next and Joe bringing up the rear on Red Devil.

  Joe checked for possible problems, but the sky was clear and the breeze almost nonexistent. Leigh held Mikey to a sedate walk and kept up a stream of chatter, turning constantly in her saddle to smile back at Kyle. As they approached the homestead, memories of the night before flooded through Joe. He wondered if Leigh was being affected in the same way. Maybe she’d brought them out here on purpose, to fire his imagination. As if he needed his imagination fired. One look at her in her formfitting jeans and he was a wild man. All he lacked was the opportunity to do something about it.

  Leigh rode into the clearing and reined Mikey in a wide circle to head back in. “I think this is far enough for today,” she said to Kyle. “How are you doing?”

  “Good.” Kyle sat straight and proud in the saddle. “It’s not so scary. Can we go faster?”

  “Next time.” She glanced over at Joe. “How are you doing, cowboy?”

  He caught the subtle teasing in her question. She knew good and well that being out here was bombarding him with images of their lovemaking. “I’m getting a little hot,” he said.

  Leigh chuckled. “That’s an Eastern
er for you. Can’t take the heat.”

  “Maybe that’s because we haven’t learned all the tricks for relieving it,” he said.

  “Then I’ll have to teach you some.” She winked at him before she started back down the road.

  “What’s that piece of paper over there?” Kyle asked.

  Joe followed the direction of Kyle’s pointing finger. Sure enough, a sheet of white paper was stuck on a cholla cactus. He knew for a fact it hadn’t been there the night before when he’d searched the area, but a dust devil could have picked it off the ground and swirled it into the cactus after he’d left.

  “I’ll get it,” Leigh offered. “No point in leaving litter out here.” She rode over to the cholla and dismounted.

  Pussywillow followed, and Kyle allowed her to go. Joe stayed back, not wanting to crowd the gray mare. Everything had gone beautifully, and he didn’t want Pussywillow spooking over a piece of paper. He would have preferred Kyle on Mikey, but Kyle on any horse was a miracle, so he couldn’t complain.

  He watched Leigh lift the paper carefully away from the thorns. Something moved at her feet. He looked closer and saw a hairy spider crawling slowly toward her boot. It was easily as broad as his spread hand. He tensed, knowing what might happen if Kyle noticed. “Leigh, go ahead and get on your horse now,” he said as easily as possible. “Come on, Kyle. I’ll lead us back.”

  Too late. Kyle glanced down, and his scream tore through the air. Before it ended, Pussywillow had grabbed the bit and bolted toward the riverbed.

  Joe dug in his heels and Red Devil lunged after the mare. “Hang on!” Joe yelled as Kyle lost a stirrup. “I’m coming!” The little boy bounced in the saddle as Pussywillow careered down the trail, but he stayed on. Joe thundered after him. He knew that when they reached the riverbank Pussywillow would leap the distance to the sandy bottom. Even an experienced rider could be thrown. Kyle would never make it.

  Joe gauged the distance to the riverbed. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty. He drew alongside, reached for Pussywillow’s bridle, missed, reached again. Ten yards. He grabbed and held on, pulling back on Red Devil’s reins at the same time. Both horses skidded to a stop, their haunches nearly touching the ground. Panting, Joe stared down at the drop-off into the riverbed right below them.

  Then he turned to Kyle. His son sat with both hands still gripping the saddlehorn, his face as white as the piece of paper Leigh had dismounted to retrieve. Joe opened his mouth to tell Kyle he should never, never scream when he was riding a horse. Kyle swallowed, and tears filled his eyes. He looked as if he expected the rebuke Joe was about to deliver.

  Joe took a deep breath. “You did good,” he said, reaching across to grip Kyle’s arm. “You stayed on.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened in surprise. Color began to seep back into his face and he blinked away his tears. “I...shouldn’t have screamed,” he whispered.

  Joe managed a smile. “That was a mighty big spider.”

  “That was a gigantic spider,” Kyle said.

  “It was a tarantula,” Leigh added.

  Joe turned to see her sitting behind them on Mikey.

  “They’re scary-looking, but pretty harmless,” she said. “Some people keep them as pets.”

  Kyle’s shoulders heaved. “Nooo, thanks.”

  “You two handled that crisis like real cowboys,” Leigh said. “Ready to go back, now?”

  Joe waited for Kyle to ask if he could ride with Leigh on the way home. He couldn’t blame the kid. Bouncing along on a runaway wasn’t the best introduction to riding.

  Kyle straightened in the saddle and looked Joe in the eye. “Yep, I’m ready.”

  Joe didn’t suppose he could ever be prouder of Kyle than he was at that moment. “Lead the way, son,” he said.

  14

  IT’S HAPPENING, Leigh thought as she led the way back to the corrals. Before her eyes, Joe was emerging from his shell and casting away his need to control. She’d been astounded when he’d decided to go after Emerson Pope, yet it was the right thing to do and he’d apparently handled it beautifully. His attitude toward Kyle had undergone a change, too, judging from his behavior after the runaway. The old Joe would have berated Kyle for scaring the horse. Instead, father and son ended the episode with mutual respect.

  The mood was lighthearted as they dismounted, unsaddled the horses and groomed them before turning them loose in the corrals. After a quick visit to Penny Lover and Spilled Milk, they decided to go up to the house for some lunch. Leigh had forgotten about the piece of paper she’d retrieved until she climbed into the driver’s side of her truck and the paper crinkled in her back pocket.

  She pulled it out and handed it to Joe. “Here’s the thing that Kyle saw. I haven’t even looked at it.”

  As they drove, Joe unfolded the paper and studied it. “This is a photocopy of a handwritten document. There’s a date here. I think it’s June, no, January, abbreviated. January—let’s see—could be 1885.”

  Kyle leaned over to look. “Maybe it’s a diary, like Leigh was telling us about last night.”

  “It reads like that,” Joe said. “And it sounds like it was written by a prisoner of some sort. He mentions a guard, and working on a rock pile and taking exercise in the yard.”

  Leigh wondered if the diary page had anything to do with the men she and Joe had heard the night before, but her rendezvous with Joe wasn’t a subject she intended to discuss in front of Kyle. “It could be from a college class,” she said. “Students hike out here a lot. Maybe they were studying something from the time period when the ranch was homesteaded, and they dropped some of their papers.”

  “This is August,” Joe said. “Is school in session?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a summer class.”

  “Do you think it’s a clue, Dad?” Kyle asked.

  “Probably not.” Joe folded the paper and snapped open his breast pocket to tuck it inside.

  As they pulled up in front of the ranch house, Freddy and Dexter came down the flagstone walkway.

  “I’ve left Ry to supervise construction on the rodeo arena and we’re going into La Osa for ice cream,” Freddy said. “Anybody want to come along?”

  “Me!” Kyle said and started toward the ranch van.

  “Hold it, buddy.” Joe put out a restraining hand. “You haven’t had lunch yet.”

  “I’ll buy him a sandwich first,” Freddy promised. “I’m sure Dexter would love it if Kyle came along.”

  “Yep,” Dexter said.

  “Okay. Sure,” Joe said.

  “Great!” Kyle ran over to Dexter and they exchanged high fives.

  Joe snapped open his pocket. “Listen, while you’re there, could you get a copy of this for me?” He handed her the diary page. “I don’t know if it’s important, but we found it out by the old homestead.”

  “Be glad to,” Freddy said.

  “What’s that?” Dexter asked.

  “A page from a diary,” Kyle said. “I’ll read it to you on the way to town, okay?”

  “Good,” Dexter said, nodding. “Let’s go.”

  Leigh and Joe waved as Freddy, Dexter and Kyle drove off in the van. Then they turned toward each other, their eyes communicating the same silent message. Opportunity had just knocked.

  Leigh tilted her head and gazed up at him, her pulse racing. “There’s something I need to show you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “One of our secret ways of relieving the heat around here.”

  “I’m partial to secrets.”

  “Then come with me.” She led him around the side of the house to the back door that accessed the family wing. The prospect of loving him made her blood race, but there was no point in advertising their activities to the rest of the ranch. She suspected Freddy would guess. Freddy might even have suggested taking Kyle into La Osa on purpose. Bless her.

  They ducked into the shade of a small porch and in through the back door. Leigh’s room was on the end, next to Freddy and Ry’s. With b
oth her sister and brother-in-law out of the house, it was the most privacy she and Joe could hope for.

  Inside the room she closed the door and pulled the shades, eliminating the rainbow colors flung by the crystals she hung there to catch the sunlight. Then she turned to find him surveying the room with interest. His gaze traveled to the unusual dream-catcher hanging above her headboard. The large webbed circle, at least eighteen inches across, contained a small crystal unicorn in the center. Peacock feathers hung from the edge of the circle.

  “You have something like earrings like that,” he said.

  She nodded. “The legend says that bad dreams are trapped in the web, and good dreams are allowed to pass through.”

  “Does it work?”

  “You’re here.”

  Passion ignited in his eyes and he started toward her.

  She held up her hand. “Wait.”

  He paused, lifting his eyebrows in question.

  “You’ll see.” She moved slowly around the room, reveling in his hot gaze as she lit jasmine incense, slipped a tape of soft synthesizer rhythms into the recorder and found the oils she needed. She’d spent years perfecting her massage techniques to relieve pain. She’d never used them to excite a man to unearthly desires. Joe would be the first.

  She faced him. “Take off your clothes and lie on the bed. Relax and focus on your breathing while I’m gone.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “If I’m lying in your bed waiting for you, I doubt I’ll be able to focus on my breathing.”

  “Try.” She went into the adjoining bathroom, removed all her clothes and slipped on a white silk toga scented with the aroma of ripe raspberries. Her skin was flushed with anticipation, her nipples tight with desire. She had never brought a man here, to her sanctuary. She’d never allowed a man to touch that part of her being that danced with the powers of the universe. She had been waiting...for this man.

  She returned to the room. He’d propped her pillows behind his head and lay watching her as she crossed to him. They’d made love in starlight before, and she hadn’t seen him well. She knew there were scars—she’d felt the ridges and absorbed some of the stories they told. He lay against her snowy sheets, a magnificent warrior marked by battle, a man aroused by passion.