The Cowboy and the Cop

by Christine Wenger

  Maybe she would make him the bacon, eggs and home fries tomorrow. She had to make a quick trip to the store. And the number-one item on the list would be chocolate chips for more cookies.

  Amber enjoyed fussing—especially for someone who appreciated it, like Luke.

  He returned minutes later. His hair was combed and the waves somewhat tamped down. He had on a pair of worn jeans, a black T-shirt and an old pair of cowboy boots.

  “I’m ready for work,” Luke said.

  “Me, too.” Amber wore an old pair of paint-covered jeans, an orange T-shirt that said Oklahoma Sooners Football and a pair of black sneakers. She had her hair pulled up in a short ponytail. “I’m ready to help, but we need energy. Have a seat.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat. “This is really nice of you.”

  “It’s nothing special. Granola with a banana, some juice. I should be serving protein for such a long day, but I have to stop at the grocery store.”

  “It’s fine, Amber. And the next time, I’m buying. We can go to a breakfast place or out to dinner. Is the Eggcellent Diner around still? How about Howie’s?”

  “Yes. They’re still around, but my cooking is just as good as theirs.”

  “Of course it is,” he said. “I was just saving you work.” He cut up a banana into his bowl and added granola and milk.

  “Yeah, well, you’re being too nice again.”

  He beat his chest with his fists. “Restaurant. Breakfast. You and me.”

  “How about if we wait a couple of days? I’d like to whip up some pancakes with bacon and home fries for you. I make the best pancakes. My home fries are to die for. I load them up with onions and add my secret ingredient that isn’t such a secret—dill weed.”

  “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since—” Turning his head, he stared out the window, as if thinking of another time, a better time. “I’ve had a lot of meals at a lot of restaurants, some better than others.”

  He didn’t have to finish.

  She guessed that he hadn’t had a home-cooked meal since his mother died.

  Since Amber loved to bake and cook, she was going to make sure she made whatever Luke liked before he had to go back on the road.

  “Luke, do you like lasagna?”

  “Love it.” He scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

  “How about baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy?” she asked.

  “Nothing better.”

  She checked off her list. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

  “Yum.”

  “For breakfast, do you like eggs, waffles, pancakes, French toast, omelets?”

  He laughed. “All at one time or separate?”

  “Separate!”

  “Yes times five.”

  “Pork chops, steak, corned beef and cabbage?”

  “Yes, yes and yes.”

  “Let me make this simple,” Amber said. “Is there anything that you don’t like?”

  “Off the top of my head...liver.”

  He took another spoonful of cereal and fished in the milk for some banana. “But, Amber, like I said, it’s enough that you offered to help with the ranch. I don’t expect you to cook and bake for me.”

  “I know. You made that clear. But I’d like to make a double batch of cookies and we can take some to your father.”

  “We? You mean you’d want to see Big Dan again?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I think that he’s going to have a breakthrough soon. It’s like the rehab of the Beaumont Ranch and at the same time the rehab of Big Dan Beaumont.”

  “Speaking of the ranch, do you mind if we hustled there just in case the stock trucks are early?” Luke asked.

  “No problem.” Amber picked up the empty bowls and put them in the dishwasher along with the silverware and their coffee mugs. She poured the extra coffee into two travel mugs and handed one to Luke.

  “I could have done that, but you move so fast,” he said.

  “No moss grows under my feet, cowboy.”

  “Amber, you’re like the eighth wonder of the world.”

  “Luke Beaumont, you haven’t seen anything yet. You just watch me!”

  * * *

  LUKE CALLED THE only car rental in town. All they could offer him was a 1996 thirty-foot Winnebago motor home. He passed on it and decided to ask Amber’s brother to look at his truck again.

  They got excited as they both brainstormed things that needed to be done at the ranch and what supplies Luke needed to buy.

  He jotted everything down on a yellow legal pad Amber had given him along with a Beaumont Sheriff’s Department pen.

  The list was getting longer and longer.

  Luke read it out. “This is what I have so far. Nails for Sheetrock and plywood. Fifty two-by-fours. Sheetrock—fifty sheets to start. Six sledgehammers. Fifty sheets of 5/8 plywood. Two-by-sixes for outside walls of new shed—eighty boards. I don’t know how large to make the new shed...”

  “Are you going to tear the existing barn down?”

  “I’ll probably just tear the roof down. It’s half down anyway, but the walls seem okay. We’ll see what happens when I get to it. I’d like to pound out a shed to shade the horses and then add on a stable down the line. The current one looks like the Snake River.”

  “And after the shed?” she asked.

  “The house, of course.”

  “You know, Luke... I was thinking. Because of the historic nature of the Beaumont homestead, you’ll qualify for federal funds, but you’ll have a lot of guidelines as to the materials you have to use.”

  “Cool. But won’t it take forever?”

  “Uh...no. Donna’s already started on it. Donna O’Neill. She’s the president of the Beaumont Historical Society, and I’m the secretary. We both did the paperwork for you, based on everything that’s been written on the Beaumonts, starting with Pierre. It just needs your signature and then it’s going to get the federal fast track because it’s one of the top historical attractions in Oklahoma.” She was so excited that she paused to catch her breath. “I hope you don’t think I’m interfering.”

  “No. Absolutely not. I think it’s great. Do you have the specs I have to follow?”

  “Basically, it’s a primer on how to make adobe and stucco.”

  “My grandfather and father taught me that when we made a pump house for the pool. Granddad wanted the area to look like the house.”

  “Then you’re all set. You have to have Donna checking on our progress from time to time.”

  “Our progress? You’re going to make adobe and stucco with me?”

  “Sure. It’ll come in handy in my police work. You never know when I’ll have to make a historical jail!” she joked.

  “You know, let’s do a jail later. The tourists will love it!”

  “Speaking of tourists, how often will there be tours through the place?”

  “Tours?” Luke asked.

  “Yes, just like before when your mother gave them. People love the history of the ranch.” She shrugged. “That’s the price of taking federal funds.” Amber turned down the main Beaumont road. “It can be open a couple times a week. And you don’t have to lead the tour. Someone from the historical society can be docent.”

  “Okay.” He scribbled more items on the pad. “Let me think about it all. Oh, and here come the stock trucks.”

  “And here is your help.” Amber pointed to a dozen men who were waiting. “While you were getting ready, I put the word out about the trailers coming in. They’re going to match up each animal with their vaccination record and ancestry. Then they’re going to turn them out.”

  He sighed. “Shoot, Amber. I can’t begin to repay you. I know that you’re doing it for the town and not for me because we barely know ea
ch other—”

  “Even though we’re living together.” She chuckled.

  “Yeah...even though we’re living together. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. From my father to the tax sale to the historical grant, and everything in between. You’ve gone above and beyond. How can I possibly repay you?”

  “I’ll take tickets to the Finals in Vegas, all five days. But you have to win. Then we’ll be even.”

  “I have to win and then we’ll be even?” he repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a tall order—not the tickets, but the win.”

  “You can do it, Luke. You’ll make history as the only rider who won two back-to-back titles.”

  “I’ll win it for you.”

  “Win it for Beaumont, Oklahoma.”

  “Amber, whether or not you realize it, you are Beaumont, Oklahoma.”

  * * *

  EARLY IN THE EVENING, the stock was all unloaded and it did Amber’s heart good to see what prime horses, cattle and bulls that the Beaumont brothers had bought.

  Day after day, more neighbors arrived armed with carpenter tools and tools of destruction and they proceeded to take down the barn roof. Another crew helped Luke with a smaller shed. Later, when new stalls were made, the shed would serve as a tack room and storage place. Donna O’Neill watched the progress and made suggestions to keep it historically accurate.

  Amber went where needed, fetching wood and passing out sandwiches she made on a folding table she’d found in the barn, cleaned up and added a plaid, vinyl tablecloth. A cooler nearby was filled with ice and contained various kinds of soda.

  In between, she worked the night shift, manning the desk at the department, and found herself wishing that she was back at the ranch. She caught some sleep when she could, and made dozens and dozens of sandwiches.

  She was elated to see her family chipping in, too.

  Her brother Ronnie fixed Luke’s old pickup with a warning that Luke needed a new battery. Luke went back and forth to her apartment in it. Amber was working the three-to-eleven shift, so when she arrived at her place, she was greeted with Luke snoring on the couch.

  The man was working nonstop. So was she, but she never felt so good. Maybe she’d take some time off from work and help Luke out more. She had a batch of unused vacation days.

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later, on a sunny, cool morning, Amber was helping the barn crew nail floorboards when she saw Luke approach. Judging by his slumped shoulders and the urgent way he was walking, something was wrong.

  “I have some cattle missing,” Luke said, face flaming.

  Amber set down her hammer and readied herself to duck when the steam started shooting from his ears.

  “How do you know?” Amber asked.

  “I just talked to Slim. He ought to know. He’s the longest-running ramrod of the Beaumont Ranch. My father hired him years ago.”

  “Slim’s a good man and he’s really loyal to the Beaumonts. He’d know. Where are they missing from?”

  “The northeast pasture.”

  Amber couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “Isn’t that the pasture that runs above my father’s backyard on the hill?”

  “You said it. I didn’t.”

  Amber took a deep breath. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I’m not accusing anyone but—”

  She shrugged. “Say it. ‘But your dad and brothers have no real income.’ Right, Luke?” Her mouth suddenly turned dry and she couldn’t swallow. “They have the junkyard for income.”

  “I can’t believe that the junkyard supports your father and three men. Can you?”

  “Luke, let me talk to my dad before you make accusations that you’ll have to take back.”

  “I’ll be glad to take everything back if I’m wrong. Go ahead. Talk to them. I don’t believe that they’ll tell you anything. That’s why I’m going to see Captain Fitzgerald this afternoon. Maybe he can find the rustlers.”

  “Luke. Wait awhile, will you?”

  “I can’t. If it’s not stopped, more will be gone.” He shook his head. “When does Captain Fitzgerald work today?”

  “He’s on three-to-eleven, same as me. But let me handle this.”

  “Are you worried that I’m right and your family might be involved?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Okay,” Luke said. “You talk to your father. I’ll talk to Captain Fitzgerald and report the theft. Maybe we’ll find out what’s going on.”

  “You already believe that it’s my family that stole your cattle, but I’d like to ask you to keep an open mind.”

  “Open mind?” He rolled his eyes. “Where your brothers are concerned?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never got along with your brothers in high school or the few times I’ve seen them after graduation. They kept calling me Prince of Beaumont, Your Majesty and that kind of thing. We were in the guidance office for fighting more than anyone.”

  “What you’re trying to say is that you’re already prejudiced against my brothers.” It was the same old thing all the time. The Chapmans were guilty until proven innocent. Even Luke was quick to convict them. It had frustrated her and made her angry her whole life.

  Luke took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll reserve judgment and will keep my comments to myself, but I’ll give you until five o’clock tonight. Then, I’ll meet you at your office and we’ll both talk to the captain.”

  Luke had some nerve blaming her brothers and/or her father for stealing cattle. Then again, she was quick to blame them, too, and without evidence.

  She knew what they were like and she was the first to admit that they loved to make a quick, easy buck, but cattle rustling was way out of their league.

  She raised her index finger. “The rustlers would have to find a truck to transport the cattle and find a buyer.”

  “Not necessarily. Maybe the buyer has a truck.”

  “We’ll see.”

  If it turned out to be a Chapman who was responsible for rustling Luke’s cattle, there would be no rock that they could hide under.

  When she became a cop, her father had promised that he’d stay out of trouble and make sure that her brothers did, too. If they’d broken their promise, she’d hunt them down like mad dogs and see that they were behind bars.

  Two hours later, after she fussed and fretted while shoveling out mud and debris from the house, she sought out Luke, who was carrying a stack of lumber on his shoulder. He was sweating and the ends of his pitch-black hair were wet and curling.

  In spite of all the things on her mind, she had to admit that Luke looked sexy, but she quickly dismissed the thought. He was intent on blaming her family for the loss of his cattle and that tweaked every cell in her body.

  “I’m leaving. I’m going to my father’s house and see if I can find anything out about your cattle,” she snapped. “There’re a bunch of sandwiches in the cooler. Everyone can help themselves.”

  “Should I find another couch to stay on from now on?”

  “I just as soon have you nearby so I can watch you eat your words.”

  “Okay, Amber. I know the fact that I never got along with your brothers is tainting my judgment, but I can’t help myself. I want to be proven wrong. I do.”

  “I hope to do just that. See you later, Luke.”

  “Later.”

  * * *

  CAPTAIN FITZGERALD POUNDED his fist on his desk. “Luke Beaumont just returned to Beaumont, finally. He’s fixing up his disaster of a place and now he has to deal with this? Who the hell has the sand to do this to him?”

  Amber’s heart was pumping way too fast and her cheeks heated. She was sure the captain was thinking that the Chapmans were somehow involved
.

  “Luke will be here in a while. He’s going to file a complaint.”

  “We haven’t had a cattle rustling case in a decade or two. How many are missing, Sergeant?”

  “Slim Gomez thinks ten.”

  “Slim’s the best cattleman around. I’m surprised he stuck with the Beaumonts. Especially when the boys weren’t around and Big Dan started drinking.”

  Amber nodded. “I’d like to be assigned the investigation, Captain.”

  “Uh... Amber, I don’t know. I just don’t know. Maybe Mike Dolan—”

  “Captain, I will be neutral and impartial and will find the perps, no matter who they are.”

  Today, and every day, she didn’t like her professionalism as a law-enforcement officer questioned. The cap should know her work by now.

  “Okay, Amber. Let’s see what you can do on this case. But if you are, uh... If you find yourself, um, in a jam...”

  “I’ll discuss it with you, Cap.” And she would. Even though he gave her the assignments that no one wanted, she trusted his advice.

  “Good, Sergeant. So you have any idea where to start?”

  “I’ll start with Slim Gomez. Then I’m going to check for truck tracks somewhere in or around the pasture where they were turned out.”

  The door swung open and Amber spun around.

  Luke.

  “Hello again, Amber. Hello, Captain.”

  “Well, Luke Beaumont! It’s been a long time, but I’ve been following your career. My money’s on you to win the Finals.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks, Captain. I’ll do my best, so you won’t lose your bet.”

  “Amber was just telling me about your missing cattle,” Captain Fitzgerald said.

  “They aren’t missing. They were rustled. I’d like to report the incident.”

  “Sure. Sergeant Chapman will take your statement. I’ve already assigned her to the case,” Captain Fitzgerald said, twirling a pen in his hand.

  “Uh...you’ve assigned her to the case?”

  The captain nodded.