by Kim Redford
Storytelling was as old as the Hill Country. Comanche warriors and German settlers had kept dangerous nights at bay with myths, legends, and stories told round the comforting flames of campfires. He’d been brought up on stories. You earned your family spurs when you could hold the attention of an audience with a well-told yarn. Now he had even more at stake, but he was ready to put everything on the line to earn a second set of spurs with his Wildcat Bluff family.
“Okay, folks,” Slade called out, “Dune’s got a tale that’s gotta be told.”
“It better be good!” Kent hollered from where he stood beside Sydney and Lauren.
“I can’t say if it’ll be good or bad.” Dune glanced around at the group. “That’ll be for y’all to decide.”
“Go on, get back to my pesky Brahman.” Kent handed Sydney his camera, folded his tripod, tucked it under his arm, and grinned at Dune.
Dune pointed at Kent. “He could’ve warned me I needed to strap on my spurs when he called me at dawn.”
“I figured you were a big enough cowboy without them,” Kent goaded him right back.
“Yeah, that’s what they always say after they send you on an impossible mission.”
“Kent, give him a break,” Hedy called, laughing. “We know all about the tasks you set cowboys.”
Kent joined her laughter. “Okay, I admit that stupid Brahman managed to get off Cougar Ranch and onto Steele Trap again.”
“Is he in love or what?” Slade asked, chuckling at his own joke.
“He’s in love with your pasture, that’s for sure,” Dune agreed, tossing a look at Sydney to see if she was still with him. “I chased that bull all over Steele Trap, seems like, before I persuaded him to go home.”
“That’s when Dune let me know he was on his way here,” Kent added. “But I admit, I should’ve handed that job to another cowboy.”
“Or two,” Dune added with a shake of his head.
All the cowboys laughed, nodding their heads as if they’d been there, done that too many times to count.
“That’s right,” Sydney spoke up, giving Kent a sideways look. “You knew he was supposed to be here early to help with our photo shoot.”
“And I doubt I’ll ever hear the last of it,” Kent said.
“That’s right,” Slade agreed. “You’re gonna be in hot water till you make it up to her.”
“We got the photos,” Sydney said. “That’ll do.”
“Okay,” Trey pushed the story. “You got the bull back in his pasture. Then what? You sure weren’t here.”
“Yeah.” Dune sighed, taking off his hat, looking inside it, then putting it back on his head. “I hit Wildcat Road okay, but then—” He paused for dramatic effect before he continued, “I swear if I didn’t see another bull loose beside the road near the turnoff for the old Perkins place.”
“Angus?” Trey asked, leaning forward.
“Yep. Black. And he was spooked, looking to cross the lane and get hit.”
“Owner?” Kent called out.
“Here’s the odd part.” Dune glanced around the group, knowing he had them now. “He wore the Holloway brand.”
“But their ranch isn’t along that patch of road,” Sydney said, frowning in puzzlement.
“That’s right,” Dune agreed. “Well now, it looked to me like Bert and Bert Two had another spot of trouble, and the last thing they needed was a loose bull on top of the fires on their properties. It made me wonder if they’d had another fire that nobody knew about yet.”
He walked over and picked up a drink, then he took a sip to wet his whistle. “Anyhow, I tried to call Bert and y’all, but—”
“That’s a tricky area for cell phone coverage,” Slade added.
“Anyhow, I could’ve driven back to the ranch, but that’d have left the bull on the road too long. So I figured I’m cowboy enough to find the break in the fence, get the bull back in there, and fix it. I’d done it once already, so it shouldn’t take long.”
“Famous last words, huh?” Kent said.
Dune just shook his head. “Yeah. Anyway, I found the break in the fence, but it was clean-cut as if it’d recently been snipped. That was odd, but no odder than a bull that didn’t belong in that pasture anyway. So I was back to chasing the four-legged, only this time on foot, and he was mad as all get-out, so he butted me, knocked me off my feet, stomped all over my hat, and then had the nerve to trot back into that pasture as if I hadn’t just busted my butt getting him there.”
Everybody burst out laughing as they nodded their heads in agreement that it was just the way of a cowboy’s life.
“I pulled my truck off the side of the road onto that old, overgrown road that leads to the empty Perkins farmhouse, parked, and found enough stuff in my tool chest to fix the fence.”
“What was the bull doing?” Hedy asked, stroking Ash as she grinned at the firefighters.
“Chewing his cud and eyeing me like roadkill while I cobbled together the fence,” Dune said. “Anyhow, I got back in my pickup, pulled out on the road to come here, and had a flat tire. So I pulled off the side and parked again.”
“Oh no!” Hedy shook her head. “And still no cell coverage?”
“No nothing,” Dune agreed. “And the road was empty. Of course, nobody was driving by when I needed a lift. Anyway, another odd thing. I shouldn’t have had a flat, since my tires are good. I went back and looked at where I’d been parked. Lo and behold, there was broken glass all over the area in front of the cattle guard leading into the farm.”
“That is odd,” Kent agreed. “That place has been empty for a number of years. Maybe kids?”
“Maybe.” Dune shrugged as he continued his tale. “I was in a hurry, so I jerked out my spare tire, jacked up my truck, took off the flat tire, and—”
“It wasn’t flat, too, was it?” Sydney asked.
He glanced over at her and saw sympathy in her hazel eyes. “Pretty near. It was leaking air from the stem.”
“Are you sure you’re not making this up?” Kent challenged with a look of feigned disbelief. “Either that or you used up your bad luck for the year.”
“I wish I was making this up, but I guess I finally used up my bad luck, because about that time, Sheriff Calhoun drove up and—”
“Laughed?” Hedy asked. “Because that’s about all that’s left to do after this much trouble.”
“That’s right,” Dune agreed. “And I laughed with him, because I was hell-bent to get here and couldn’t do it.” He looked at Sydney and just shook his head in regret.
She gave him a warm smile. “We’re glad you’re safely here.”
He returned her smile, deciding she’d let him out of the doghouse. “Sheriff Calhoun got to looking around after hearing the oddness of my story. He told me that Bert and Bert Two had bought the Perkins farm some time back to help out Hollis Perkins, who’d got himself in a financial bind.”
“Do you suppose,” Hedy asked, suddenly looking serious, “somebody added theft and vandalism to arson on Holloway property?”
“That’s exactly what Sheriff Calhoun and I couldn’t help but wonder.”
“I guess he contacted Bert,” Hedy said. “Is he okay?”
“Yep,” Dune agreed. “But put out.”
“I’ll call him later, too,” Hedy said. “I don’t like this business one little bit.”
“Nobody does.” Dune glanced around at the cowboy firefighters. “I suggest we keep an extra eye out till we get through Christmas.”
“Agreed,” Hedy added. “We don’t want any more property damage, or anybody hurt.”
“That’s for sure,” Dune said.
“And the sheriff was able to blow up your spare?” Sydney asked, giving Dune a warm smile.
“Plus, he gave me an escort into town so I could get here fast.”
“I’m glad,” Sydney said. “We needed you here.”
“That’s the best story I’ve heard in some time, even if it does worry me some,” Hedy said. “I suggest we give Dune a big round of applause, then let’s all get back to making this the best Christmas ever.”
Dune felt as if he’d come home when the other cowboy firefighters put their hands together for him. It’d all just been a day’s work on a ranch, but sharing his tale of woe to a sympathetic group who’d been there took the sting out of his troubles. They were all part of the same cowboy tribe, and they were in it come hell or high water. He watched silently as they dispersed to go their separate ways, but they’d come back together when the need arose to help one another and the county through thick and thin.
Sydney walked up to him, holding Kent’s camera, and squeezed his hand. “That’s a pretty tall tale, cowboy.”
“Yeah. I’m surprised anybody believed me.”
“Sheriff Calhoun was a nice touch.”
“Probably saved my bacon.”
“No doubt.” She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m good now.” He returned her kiss, well aware that they were letting everybody in Wildcat Bluff know their true feelings for each other. And he was pleased about that fact.
“Are you good enough for another photo shoot?”
“Aren’t we done here?”
“You owe me a photo.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “Remember my pretty pink Cadillac?”
“How could I forget?”
She held up the camera. “That’s where I want to shoot Mr. December.”
He groaned, shaking his head. And he’d thought chasing an ornery Brahman bull was bad.
Chapter 25
Sydney drove Celeste right up to the Sure-Shot Drive-In’s entrance. She figured Dune was already inside, since the gate was open. She’d loaned him the keys so she could run by the café and check on Storm. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—her daughter appeared to be content helping out when normally she wanted to be outdoors on her ATV or pony. She supposed Storm felt safe there, and that was good for now, but she must find a way to help her daughter past her newfound fear. For the moment, she was simply glad Storm was where she felt safe and loved during the busy holidays.
With Celeste’s top down, a breeze cooled Sydney’s face as she drove past the big white screen that towered over the parking lanes. She looked around till she spotted Dune’s pickup parked near the snack shed, so she headed over there, passing metal speakers on their tall poles.
She was pleased with her clothes today. Misty and Lauren had been appreciative of her vintage look, so she knew she’d achieved her goal in promoting Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In. As far as the guys were concerned, she figured they’d been a lot more interested in Chuckwagon barbeque than 1950s attire. No matter. She was comfortable, ready to finish the photos, and get the calendar into production.
She parked beside Dune’s truck and noticed her heart speed up at the thought of seeing him again—alone. She felt a little bad that she’d had such negative thoughts about him while he’d been embroiled in such a horrible morning, but their relationship was still so fresh that she hadn’t been able to keep her doubts at bay.
She watched as he stepped out of his truck, one long leg after the other. He looked good. Delicious, in fact. She could hardly wait to photograph him with Kent’s camera, looking as if he’d just saved a burning building from destruction. She followed him with her eyes as he walked around Celeste, running his long fingers across the satiny paint, stopped by her door, and leaned down, smiling at her with heat in his gaze.
“Hey, lady,” he said, tossing her the drive-in key ring, “are you going my way?”
“Hop in, stranger. I’m going any which way you want to go.”
He grinned bigger, nodding in appreciation as he looked her over from top to bottom. “You look real fine.”
“So do you.” She set the drive-in keys beside Kent’s camera on the front seat.
He glanced down at his clothes, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t let me shower or change. Surely I can’t be what you want for Mr. December.”
“You’re exactly what I want.”
He just shook his head again. “I’m still sweaty, dirty, and my clothes are ripped.”
She gave him a big grin, thinking how much cowgirls liked cowboys who didn’t mind getting sweaty and dirty while hard at work, roping and riding on a ranch or pumping and rolling at a fire. Dune had it all, but for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to share him. Yet a benefit was a benefit, so sharing his photograph—and only his photo—was for a good cause.
“Anyway,” he said with his brow creasing in a frown, “all the other firefighters were shot at the station. How come I’m here at the drive-in?”
“You’re Mr. December. I want to promote Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In with your photo in the calendar.”
He clicked his tongue, glancing up at the big white screen and back again. “Okay. But why am I sweaty and dirty in the photo?”
“You just saved the drive-in from a fire, and I captured you taking a break in my Cadillac.”
He clicked his tongue again and scratched his chin where he now had a little beard stubble. “You know that makes no sense. If I was taking a break or the fire was over, I sure wouldn’t be sitting around in a vintage Caddy.”
She couldn’t resist the laugh that bubbled up. “We’re not talking logic here. We’re talking fantasy.”
“That makes even less sense.” He straightened up, looked toward the south, and then leaned down again. “My mom would have my hide if she caught me messing up a pristine vehicle like this one.”
“She likes vintage Caddies?”
He grinned as he nodded his head. “Yeah. Retro anything. If she saw your closet, you’d probably never get her out of it, or it’d be a lot lighter when she got done looking through it.”
“She sounds like somebody after my own heart.”
“I think you’ll like each other.”
Sydney glanced away, drumming her fingertips on the big steering wheel. Was he already talking about her meeting his parents? He knew her family. Everything was moving so quickly—maybe too quickly—for her to get a firm grasp on the situation.
“Don’t you want to meet her?”
“Yes, of course. It’s just that—”
“I’m going too fast, aren’t I?”
“Pretty fast.”
He sighed, rubbing his chin again. “Truth of the matter, it doesn’t seem so fast to me. It seems as if it’s taken a coon’s age to get here.”
“Our night together was wonderful.”
“But?”
“That was then. Today is today.”
“And I messed up not getting to the photo shoot on time.”
“It was out of your control.”
“Yeah.”
She reached up and stroked his face, feeling the rough stubble up the heat she now always felt in his presence. “Do you want to make it up to me?”
“Do I need to?” He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand.
“No.” She felt his kiss go straight to the heart of her and set her on fire. “But I want to get that photo of you while the sunlight’s still strong.”
He grasped her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of each finger. “You know I can’t say no to you. If you want the photo, you’ll have the photo.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated, then went with what she knew she should keep to herself but couldn’t resist saying to him. “I just wish you were a little more enthusiastic.”
“You can’t have everything.” And then he cocked his head to one side as he gave her a slow, considering gaze. “I take that back. You can have everything—any little thing your heart
desires, if—”
“What?” She rolled her eyes, not quite knowing what to expect but figuring it’d have something to do with the hot look in his eyes, but she was only giving him mock exasperation. Whatever he wanted, she figured she’d enjoy it, too.
“If you want me to show enthusiasm in the photo, you need to give me a reason for it.”
She sighed out loud as she gave him a firm look. “Benefit for our fire-rescue isn’t enough?”
He shook his head in the negative.
“Support for the other firefighters who posed for our calendar isn’t enough?”
He shook his head again.
“Staying on Hedy’s good side isn’t enough?”
He grinned, cocking his head to one side. “Now you’re getting warm.”
“How about staying on my good side?”
“Every side of you is good.”
She chuckled at his words. “You’re just looking for trouble, aren’t you?”
“Sydney,” he said as his gaze turned from mischievous to serious. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were trouble. For me.”
“Oh, Dune.” She felt such a strong emotion cascade through her that tears stung her eyes, so she quickly blinked them away. She couldn’t understand how he could affect her so much, but even so, she wouldn’t let her feelings interfere with everything she needed to get done for Christmas. “You big lug, step back so I can position Celeste to get the best sunlight for our photo, or you’re sincerely going to be in bigger trouble than you can imagine.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a threat.” She gave him a hard stare with a big frown, hoping he’d think she was serious and finally follow her instructions and let her get the last photograph.
He simply chuckled as his eyes crinkled at the corners in merriment, but he did step away from the Cadillac. “Okay. I’ll take trouble as my payment.”
“Fine.” She couldn’t resist a slight smile, knowing she might as well give up trying to get him to take his pose as Mr. December serious.
She restarted Celeste and then turned the big, beautiful Cadillac toward the west so bright sunlight gleamed on the chrome grill and the tinsel-decorated longhorns while highlighting the back seat. She cut the engine, tossed a yellow firefighter jacket on the back seat, picked up Kent’s camera, and stepped outside onto black asphalt.