He slid a paper over her way. “Another missing bridle and saddle, this one a Silver Royal from the Neiman ranch.” Whistling low, he added, “Craig Neiman says it’s worth a grand. At least.”
Dinah knew the prices of some saddles. And though Silver Royal was a good brand, all saddles weren’t created the same.
A theft was always treated seriously, but she knew Craig Neiman had a propensity to exaggerate when he could.
She had an idea. “Look, how about I go visit with Austin and see if that estimate is correct? It’s a perfect excuse to pay him a call and give him a gentle reminder about behaving himself out in public.”
“While you do that, I’ll go visit with the Neimans. See how the rest of their tack looks.”
“Great. Call me if you need me to stop by, too.”
Duke nodded. “Sounds good.” Pausing on his way out, he looked back at her, his brown eyes full of brotherly concern. “You okay with seeing Austin? You’ve got some history there.”
“That history is as old as the dartboard at the Open Range. And as full of holes, too.”
Duke grinned at her reference, then sobered. “Just be careful you don’t get stuck with anything, D. Those darts can hurt like a son of a gun.”
So did a lot of things, she thought to herself as she grabbed her purse, her gun and a candy bar for good measure.
Experience had taught her that a bite from a Snickers bar could do a girl a world of good.
Even when seeing Austin Wright.
Chapter Two
No man should look as good as Austin Wright, Dinah decided.
Blessed with a dreamy pair of blue eyes, dark wavy hair and a striking resemblance to Blake Shelton, he’d stopped more than one girl in her tracks. A long time ago, she’d kissed him in the moonlight on the outskirts of town.
That kiss had been hot enough to make her step back in a hurry. And hot enough to make Austin smile just a little too darkly.
Though she’d surely kissed other men since—and Austin had done a whole lot more with a whole lot more girls—that kiss never failed to pop up in her memory whenever they crossed paths.
It was a real shame, too.
“Hey, Dinah,” he said as she stepped into his shop, Wright’s Western Wear and Tack. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. You need something?”
Oh, that drawl! She blinked, and before she knew it, she was smoothing her left hand down the front of her tan sheriff’s shirt.
“No. I’m not here to shop.”
“Oh?” Gone went that teasing glint in his eyes. “What do you need?”
His voice was low. Gravelly and cool. And it affected her like it always had—with a zing right to her middle.
With effort, she opened up her spiral notebook and pretended to study her notes so he wouldn’t see her expression.
And so she wouldn’t start thinking about his blue eyes. And the way he did love to wear those Wranglers of his just a little low and a little tight. “I did come in here for something.”
“What?”
Lifting her chin, she strived for confidence and equilibrium. “I came to see what you knew about Silver Royal saddles.”
“For riding or show?”
“Show.”
“Other than they cost the earth?”
“Are they that much? I mean, how much earth are we talking about?”
“Easily a grand.” He looked at her curiously. “Why? You gonna start showing horses or something?”
Sidestepping the questions, she edged farther into the store, her boots clicking softly on the wooden floor. Took a peek toward the back of the shop where the tack was organized. “Any chance you got one of them around? My family never believed in spending that much on a saddle.” Their money had always been marked for stock.
Austin shook his head. “I can’t help you there, Dinah. You’re looking at a one-man show here. I ain’t got a lot of cause to be showcasing expensive saddles. Most folks who come in are looking for something a little more practical—more like something from King.”
Looking around a little more closely, Dinah realized she’d never spent much time in the place. Not enough to really study his merchandise, anyway.
In the front of the store there was a decent selection of shirts and Carhartt coats. A couple of racks of socks and gloves and hats. In the back was the “tack” section. Hanging neatly on pegs were bridles and reins, bits and cinches. Some new, but mostly used.
There were also six saddles. Even from the front, she could tell they’d seen a lot of action. Kind of like the man in front of her, she thought wryly.
She walked on back. Austin followed. “You here on official business?” he asked. “Or do you suddenly have a yen for a fancy new saddle?”
She thought everyone and their brother knew her family was having financial difficulties—like the rest of Montana. Plus, with her job and all, she never had time to ride.
Correction, she’d never taken the time to ride. “Business.”
“I see.”
Did he?
Her brothers expected her to be tough. The folks who’d elected her counted on her to be that way. The city council certainly paid her to be. But Austin? He was looking as though it would make his day if she revealed she was just a woman. Just like the girl she’d used to be, before she got her act together and figured out what she really wanted in life—to be respected.
Her mouth went dry as she looked blankly at the merchandise surrounding them. When was the last time she’d even thought about being just a girl? Just Dinah?
“See anything you like?” he drawled from behind her back.
She turned on her heel, opened her mouth to give him what for, to tell him that she’d heard that line before. Why, maybe even a dozen times.
But he was standing a whole lot closer than she anticipated. Actually, they were standing so smack-dab close that she could smell his cologne. And the starch on his shirt. And the worn leather of his old, scruffy boots and belt. And, well, everything else about him that made him distinctly Austin Wright.
Reading her mind, he grinned slowly. “Brings back old memories, don’t it?”
Her chin snapped up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A fresh set of lines showed up at the corners of his eyes. “Sure you do…and I do, too.” Leaning so close that it was almost uncomfortable, he whispered, “Remember when we used to see each other at the honky-tonks? When we used to flirt a little too much? Stand a little too close?”
Oh, yes, she did. At any age, Austin Wright had held the right combination of heat and bad-boy charm that she’d always found next to irresistible.
Back when she’d been eighteen? She hadn’t even tried to deny a thing with him.
Lifting a hand, he curved a stray lock of hair around her ear. “D, remember when we danced to Bon Jovi and thought we were cool?”
Glad for the memory, she laughed. “I was an idiot. I used to wear ridiculous band T-shirts.”
His grin widened as he stepped back and gave them a bit more breathing room. “And tight jeans. No one could fill out those Levi’s like you could.”
Yes, she had worn them tight. But then, so had he. And he still did.
Still reminiscing, he murmured, “You had a lot of hair back then.”
It had fallen to the middle of her shoulder blades. She’d kept it curly and a little wild. Now she kept her dark hair tamer. Every morning, she ruthlessly t
ransformed the out-of-control curls to gentle waves that rested on the tops of her shoulders.
Before she knew it, she was fingering the end of a wayward curl. She had loved her long hair. But it was best she didn’t look like that anymore. No one would have taken a woman like that seriously.
“You had quite a head of hair, too,” she countered.
He ran a hand along his neck. “I like mine short now.” He cracked a smile. “But we thought we were all that and a bag of chips back in those days. Remember?”
She did. Oh, she remembered a whole lot of things. The way they used to hang out together when they’d be off at some of the local rodeos. No matter how much she’d promised her mother she’d behave, before long, she and Austin would egg each other on. Next thing she knew, she was dodging her brothers’ watchful eyes and sneaking around to where the trailers were parked. There, they’d sit in the dark, smoke a little, drink a whole lot more. One time they finally had given in to their attraction and shared that one amazing kiss.
Damn! That was the second time she’d thought of that in two hours!
With effort, she pushed aside all those feelings of desire…and remembered also how she’d finally decided it was time to grow up and become respectable. And Austin?
He hadn’t made that choice yet. Maybe he wouldn’t ever want to stop his partying and his women and his idiocy. Which meant they had nothing in common now.
Which kind of made her sad, and that was more than a little distressing!
Turning away, she patted one of the saddles. “This is beautiful.”
“You’ve got an eye, and that’s a fact. Just got that one in.”
“Who from?”
He looked evasive. “A woman out near Miles City.”
Tenderly, she ran her finger along the initials etched in the leather. “Any special reason why she sold it?”
“Nah. Her family fell on hard times. Had to sell the horse…” He shrugged. “The saddle came next.”
She bit her lip. Bringing back memories of barrel racing, feeling the wind against her hair. Feeling sweat running down her back as she tried to beat the clock.
And how she’d given up riding but hadn’t ever asked her family to sell that saddle.
That shamed her. Who knows? The money might have come in real handy lately. Her brother Ace could’ve probably used the money to pay for some of Midnight’s feed. Or the ranch’s electric bill. But she’d been too intent on keeping her saddle to think about that. No, she’d been selfishly holding on to it, as if she couldn’t bear to completely forget all of her past.
“Want to go riding one day, Dinah?”
“No.”
“Sure? We could go to my dad’s.” His voice was bright now. Less suggestive, almost friendly. Almost cheerful. “I haven’t been out to see him lately, but I do know Dad’s still keeping a couple of horses. Some of ’em are top-notch. Riding for a few hours, forgetting our troubles? It would be fun.”
Mention of his dad made her think of the other little reason she’d come visiting.
“So, I heard you created quite a mess at the Open Range.”
His voice turned flat. “Bad news travels fast.”
“Always.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Is puking my brains out against the law these days?”
“No. But driving under the influence is,” she said quickly. Thinking of a reason for bringing it up.
“Your mole should’ve told you that I didn’t drive.”
Oops. She hadn’t even asked. “Who did?”
He shook a finger at her as though she was a naughty child. “Uh-uh, Dinah. No way am I going to tell you all my secrets. That ain’t no business of yours.”
“Look, Ted doesn’t care to be cleaning up those messes of yours.”
“I realize that.” His blue eyes narrowed. “And I hope when you spoke to old Ted that he also told you that I stopped by this morning and offered to pay for the cleaning.”
“He didn’t tell me that.” Irritation surged through her. If Ted had taken the time to whine to her, why the heck hadn’t he felt like telling her the whole story? “But you were drinking shots of tequila, weren’t you?”
“I do believe I was. Sheriff.”
Now she felt worse than a prude. Her job was to uphold the law, not become the moral majority. “I just wanted to make sure, you know, that you weren’t going to make overdoing it…a habit.”
“No, ma’am.”
A lot of men called women “ma’am,” but rarely in that tone of voice.
She backed up a step. His eyes were cool and hard now. Reminding her that she’d just crossed the line and hadn’t really played fair, either. Using friendship to get information wasn’t anything she was proud of.
Just as she was turning around, she glanced at the saddles again.
And happened to see a lightly tanned one, with roses hand tooled along the skirt.
She knew that saddle. And last time she heard, the owner had reported it missing.
She headed to the door before he noticed her staring at it. She needed to get more information before she asked him about its origins. One of the first things she’d learned at the police academy was to try not to ask questions you didn’t already know the answers to. “Look, thanks for the information about the Silver Royals. I’ll be seeing you, Austin,” she called out over her shoulder.
“Feel free to stop by anytime and give me grief.”
His words hit a nerve. She hoped he didn’t notice her stumble. Pushing open the glass door, she strode out and into her cruiser.
And as she drove down the main street through town, she grimaced with sad satisfaction. Suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. Austin Wright was a small-business owner and no doubt was struggling to keep a solid inventory. He was probably having money trouble—most everyone in the county was. Then, of course, there was the Wright name. It had practically become synonymous with sketchy practices. Why, everyone knew his daddy had spent time in jail.
Had Austin decided to start making money the easy way? If he had, and if he was now bound and determined to start following in his father’s footsteps…well, there was probably little he wouldn’t do.
She hated to think that way about him. But they weren’t really friends anymore. And she was far different from the girl she used to be when they were.
She needed to remember that.
Chapter Three
“I’m so glad you had time to meet with me, Flynn,” Dinah said as they took a seat in one of the booths at the Number 1 Diner. Though it hadn’t been in Roundup for all that long, every time Dinah entered the place she felt a burst of nostalgia. It probably had something to do with the old photos of miners decorating the walls.
Or maybe it was the bright cherry-red Formica tabletops. Or maybe seeing waitresses dressed in jeans and boots and those red-and-black aprons just made her smile. “I had a real need for girl time.”
“I’m always up for a cheeseburger, you know that. Carbs and saturated fat can do a world of good for a woman in the throes of pregnancy.”
Looking at her friend and sister-in-law with a real fondness, Dinah laughed. “One thing never changes, Flynn. Come hell or high water, you’re never afraid to tell it like it is. Even if it involves too much information.”
“It’s only TMI if people don’t care,” she said, rubbing her growing belly. “And I’m sure you do care.”
“I�
��m taking the Fifth on that one.” Grinning, she opened the plastic menu and skimmed over the choices, lingering on the idea of a burger and fries…then resolutely focusing on the salads and grilled chicken. She’d worked too hard at the police academy to ignore the physical regime and exams. No way was she going to slide down into a slippery slope of unhealthy choices.
By the time Karla stopped at their table, chomping her ever-present gum, Dinah had made her decision. “I’ll have the Cobb salad, dressing on the side, Karla.”
“Drink?”
“Diet.”
Flynn made gagging noises. “That’s what I love about you, Dinah. You’re nothing if not predictable. Karla, I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate shake.”
Karla winked. “Gotcha. Sure you don’t want to change your mind and get something with a couple of more calories, Dinah?”
What she wanted and could have were two different things. And, well, there was that secret stash of Snickers bars she couldn’t seem to ignore. “I’m good. Thanks.” Looking around, Dinah tried to catch sight of Sierra Byrne, the owner of the diner. “Karla, where’s Sierra?”
Karla shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure. Maybe she’s with her aunt Jordan? Sometimes Sierra and Jordan take Molly out on walks together.”
Dinah vaguely recalled seeing Sierra’s aunt Jordan and her Seeing Eye dog, Molly, walking in the park. “Oh. Well, tell Sierra ‘hey’ next time you see her.”
“Will do.”
When they were alone, Flynn crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you want to tell me why you called?”
“I just wanted lunch. And I wanted to hear how things were going at the ranch. And with the veterinary practice, too.”
“I’m sure Ace’s been keeping you informed.” Raising a brow, she said, “Ace said he talked to you about everything a few days ago. Did he actually call you?”
All her brothers called her on a regular basis—well, all except Tuf, she realized with a sinking heart. Ever since he was discharged from the marines, all they knew about Tuf was that he was somewhere in America. And that he had no desire to come to Roundup, Montana.
Austin: Second Chance Cowboy Page 2