Her mother’s cheeks bloomed, but she shooed off the fancy talk with a swish of a dishrag. “Ace, we were just talking about Austin Wright when you came in.”
His gaze sharpened. “Oh, yeah? How is Austin doing, Dinah?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
For once, her mother wasn’t her defender. “I don’t think that’s quite true, Dinah. As a matter of fact, I think you know real well how Austin is doing.”
Ace crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Let’s hear it, then. Tell me some news.”
“It’s nothing special. In fact, all I know is plenty I wish I didn’t.” For a moment, she considered tattling on the man, talking about his latest mess at the honky-tonk and her weak suspicions about his involvement in the thefts, but refrained. If she started down that path, she would be treading dangerously close to being unprofessional.
“Is that right? What do you know, Dinah?”
“Nothing. Ignore me. I’m just tired and spouting nonsense.” She could feel her neck start to heat that very moment. Yes, she might be able to shoot her Glock with practiced ease, but talking boys around her brother showed she still had a whole lot of emotional maturing to do.
“Huh. I don’t think that’s it.”
She looked at her eldest brother thoughtfully. “Now it sounds like you know something I don’t. Spill.”
After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Ace joined the two of them at the island table. “I don’t know all that much. It’s just that I’ve always thought there was more to Austin than anyone gave him credit for.”
“Because of how he rode?” He could have been a real contender in the circuit if he’d wanted to go that route. In Sheridan, Duke told her that he won a good amount of money. Enough to get his old black truck fixed right, and with a little left over, too.
“Well, yeah. He is a fine bareback rider.” He paused, sipping his coffee. “But I was really thinking more about how he grew up.”
She knew quite a bit about Austin’s family. But yet again, it sounded as if Ace knew more. “What about it?”
Glancing sideways at their mom, he said, “I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up in the shadow of a man nobody respects. A man who spent a couple of years in the state prison out near Deer Lodge. That would be real difficult, I think.”
Her knee-jerk reaction was to push that off. She’d been in law enforcement long enough to know that a whole lot of folks didn’t have the best home lives behind their closed doors. But that was unkind—and putting things too simply. A lot of people might not have the best home life, but they also were a long way from having a father who’d been to prison.
“I haven’t heard much news about Buddy Wright lately. He must be keeping his head down.”
“Or cleaning up his act,” their mother said. “I heard that when Cheyenne came back with her girls, she put her foot down on Buddy’s drinking.”
Dinah didn’t want to be unkind, but she kind of figured there was barely a snowball’s chance in hell that Buddy Wright had decided to suddenly stop drinking and become a model citizen for his granddaughters. “Maybe. Time will tell, I guess.”
A line formed between Ace’s brows. “Dinah, I might be inclined to agree with you about Buddy, but Austin’s a good man. He started that store out of next to nothing, and he’s making a success of it. And while all of us have each other to depend on…he’s had no one to speak of. Not until Cheyenne came back from California.”
“Have you spoken to her lately?” their mother asked.
“I haven’t.” Dinah inwardly winced. Cheyenne was yet another of her friends she hadn’t made much of an effort to get back in touch with since she’d been elected sheriff. That was a shame, too, since Cheyenne, Leah and she had had some great times when the three of them had been competing in barrel races.
Maybe it was the reminder that she wasn’t quite the model of society that she was hoping to present to the public. Maybe all this talk of Austin’s problems felt vaguely disloyal.
But whatever the reason, she got on her high horse. “You know, Austin’s not quite the sorry, lonely man you make him out to be, Ace.”
He lifted his hands and stepped backward. “Whoa, Dinah. What’s up with you? A little touchy about him?”
“No, I’m trying to concentrate on the facts, not speculation.”
“All right…since you’re all into speaking like the law, and since you seem to know Austin real well right now, I’ll let you have that one.”
Now she was embarrassed. “I didn’t say I knew him ‘real well.’”
“Whatever. But I will ask you this. How would you have felt if not a one of us came to your graduation from the police academy? I’ve always thought it would be hard to go through life alone. Everyone needs something or someone to lean on.”
Even the thought of one of the most important days of her life passing without their support took her breath away. They’d had her back every step of the way.
“You know I wouldn’t be who I am without our family.” It hurt to agree with him, but she couldn’t deny his reasoning.
“And you would agree that family helps us all get through hard times?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me ask you this. How do you think I’d feel if Flynn was constantly wondering if I was sneaking around, drinking and carousing?”
“I’m not doing that. And I’m the sheriff.” She also wasn’t Austin’s wife!
“You’re not thinking like a sheriff. You’re thinking like a woman.”
“Sometimes a woman has every right to be suspicious of the man in her life,” she snapped. “Sometimes he has secrets.”
Darting a glance at her mother, Dinah gasped. Her mother was pale, but to her surprise, she didn’t refute Ace’s words. Or ask that he honor their father’s memory in a better way.
So she stood up for her father. “Ace, what you’re bringing up, that’s not fair.”
“No. It sure as hell isn’t. Gossip like that can be real hurtful, don’t you think?” To her chagrin, Ace winked before pushing away from the table and standing up. “See you later, Mom. I’m gonna go get back to Flynn.”
“Night, Ace,” their mother said with a soft smile as he walked out the door.
Dinah, on the other hand, felt as though she’d been given a talking to.
She just wished she knew what she’d done wrong.
Chapter Eight
When the phone rang in the pitch-black comfort of her warm bed, Dinah knew there was only one person who could have been on the other side of the line.
“Duke, what happened?” she said wearily.
“Another robbery.”
Sitting up and stifling a yawn, she glanced at the old-fashioned alarm clock on the side of the bed. “It’s barely midnight.” So far, the majority of the thefts had taken place in the early-morning hours.
“I know. It makes no sense…but there you go.”
Most of the time, she loved Duke’s quiet, no-nonsense way of laying everything out in the open. But tonight, bleary-eyed with sleep? It made her itch for a lead. “Okay. Give me the facts. When was it reported? Whose ranch?” Oh, please don’t let it be her family’s, she thought selfishly.
“It was the Emersons. They reckon several thousand dollars of saddles and bridles were stolen, including their daughter Janine’s show saddle.”
“Crap.”
His voice deepened. “Dinah, I think we both need
to show up for this one.”
Dinah agreed. The Emerson ranch, Emerald Sky, was a top-of-the-line outfit at the edge of their jurisdiction. The owners, Curt and Kelly, were good people but a little high in the instep and a bit high-strung, too. They were definitely a family who was used to people bending down to their reputations.
Dinah felt sure that they would find a way to make the robbery the sheriff’s responsibility—even if their cameras weren’t working or if they had a new hand they hadn’t checked out good.
“Want to come pick me up in ten?”
“Will you be ready in ten? Because, you know, I could give you fifteen minutes. It’s not like the Emersons are going anywhere.” His voice was laced with amusement.
Now that Duke was married, her normally shy cousin seemed to have a whole new awareness of the time it took a woman to primp. Even though Angie seemed to be strictly wash-and-wear, it was a fact that long hair and makeup took a little more time than splashing water over a face and throwing on a hat.
“Ten will be plenty.”
“All right…”
Thinking about Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, and how she was going to need every bit of ammunition at her disposal to be at her best, she chuckled. “Actually, you’d better make it fifteen minutes, Duke. I think I better look as sharp as possible for our visit.” And that, of course, meant that she needed to tame her curls into some kind of semblance of order.
“I’ll slick back my hair, too.”
She laughed as she hung up, then turned on her bedside lamp. Though it was true that she didn’t primp all that much, she had a feeling most folks would be surprised to see her little set of rented rooms at the back of the old Victorian.
The walls were painted a slick eggshell, reminding her of fresh cream in the morning. Through mail-order catalogs, she’d ordered lace curtains and a thick quilt that was cream, too.
On the smooth wooden floor lay an old Oriental carpet done in shades of blue that she’d spied at a garage sale a couple of months ago. The blues and grays in the carpet were pretty much the only color in the room. Everything else was soothing and delicate.
Walking over to her dressing table, complete with a pewter colored lamp and an oval mirror, she hastily took a straightener to the worst of the curls and slipped on a sweater, jeans and a pair of recently polished boots. Once she was satisfied with that, she walked past the jumble of romance novels she kept meaning to organize and the two pairs of boots she kept meaning to put in her closet. Maybe one day she’d actually take the time to do those things.
Maybe one day she’d actually have some extra time!
Efficiently, she holstered her gun, slid on her uniform jacket and strode out the door, locked it securely behind her and went outside to wait for Duke.
So far, no one besides family had actually come inside her place. She’d liked it that way. The last thing she needed was for anyone to realize that she was a whole lot softer than people thought.
That could only get a lady sheriff into trouble.
* * *
AS SHE’D FEARED, WHEN SHE and Duke got to the Emerald Ranch, the whole gang was fired up and ready for blood. Wisely, Dinah sent Duke straight out to the barn to start questioning while she headed up to the main house.
It was an oversize Spanish-style hacienda with wide-planked wooden floors, priceless Western paintings and bronzes. The thick walls seemed to give a sense of quiet that had never been a part of Thunder Ranch.
Ava, their housekeeper, let her in and escorted her across the wide foyer, down a hall filled with framed and matted photographs of various Emerson men and women winning awards and buckles. At last, she entered a large living room with two ornate Oriental rugs at either end.
Mr. and Mrs. Emerson were sitting side by side on a tan leather couch and watched her approach.
Forcing herself to not slow her pace, she strode forward, hoping her purposeful stride covered up the nervousness she was feeling. “Hear you’ve had some trouble,” she said in greeting. “I’m sure sorry about that.”
Mr. Emerson stood up and shook her hand. “Dinah. Thank you for coming out here so quickly.”
Dinah knew he wasn’t calling her “Sheriff Hart” on purpose. Just a way to make sure that she knew her place. “Duke is already outside talking to your hands. Want to fill me in?”
Curt Emerson glanced at his wife, then shrugged as he took a seat and gestured for Dinah to sit down, as well. “Not much to say, Dinah. One of the hands buzzed me an hour ago from the equestrian barn, saying that the back door had been jimmied. Didn’t take a whole lot of detective work to see that Janine’s show saddle had been taken.”
Unfortunately, the story sounded all too familiar. What also was familiar was the slow, raging burst of anger that threatened to blow her temper once and for all. She was sick and tired of being two steps behind the idiots.
She took out her pad of paper and pencil and wrote down the details. “I’m assuming your foreman has some photos of the saddle.”
“He does. Insurance folks do, too.” Frowning, Curt said, “It was hand-tooled leather, designed by Beau Adams himself.”
Mrs. Emerson spoke for the first time. “When Curt first told me he wanted to catalog most of our belongings, I thought he was being a bit paranoid. But I guess you can’t be too careful these days. It’s a sign of the times.”
Or a sign that their local sheriff couldn’t get a break in the case, Dinah thought wryly. However, it would do no good to share that thought out loud. Instead, she kept her armor of confidence firmly wrapped around her as she stood up. “Yes, ma’am. Well, I think I’ll go on out and see what Duke found out.”
Mr. Emerson stood, as well. “It would mean a lot to me if you apprehended these thieves real soon, Sheriff. Folks around here have enough to deal with without having to beef up their security details.” He paused. “You know, back when Babcock and Clark were talking about needing a man for your job, I thought they were just being jerks. But if things don’t get better soon, I’d be tempted to listen to them.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, swallowing her pride. The men he spoke of had boys who had been burrs in the backside for her and Duke more than once. It had felt as if Rory Clark and Tracy Babcock were simply waiting for her and Duke to make a major mistake.
What no one seemed to remember, however, was that her family had also been targets of the thieves. In addition, they were missing their champion horse!
Not that anyone in the area really cared two sticks about that.
Keeping her game face on, she held out her hand to the couple. “It’s going to take us a while to check for prints and collect evidence. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You just find that thief, Dinah. You can even string him up with our blessing.” Mr. Emerson’s smile was cordial, but his voice had a touch of iron in it.
With that command still ringing in her ears, she turned on her heel and ventured out to the barn—where she hoped Duke was having more luck.
He was—but his good news just about broke her heart, though she didn’t even want to admit to herself why.
Duke’s expression was grim as he waited for her to respond. “Though Pete said he thought it was Austin’s truck, we both know that doesn’t mean much,” he said slowly. “Why, over the last few months, I’ve seen a dozen so-called eyewitness reports where everyone claimed they saw a different man or vehicle.”
“I hear you, Duke. But i
f Pete says he saw an old Chevy truck that had a chrome bumper exactly like Austin Wright’s, I’m going to have to check it out. Pete has no reason to lie that I know of.” She’d also known Pete for years. She’d never known him to make things up.
“It’s a crying shame, though. Austin would be about the last person in the world I’d want to see resort to stealing tack.”
She felt the same way. Ace’s words were still ringing in her ears, reminding her that Austin hadn’t had an easy time of it. She wanted to give him the same benefit of the doubt that so many other people had given her. But while it was true that some people did grow and change, it was also a simple fact that others did not.
And what was also in Austin’s corner, working against him almost every hour of the day, was that he came from a troubled home, with a parent who had served time in prison for stealing cattle. That couldn’t ever be ignored.
“I’ll talk to him in the morning.”
Duke narrowed his eyes. “It’s only midnight. It might be better if we went by right now.”
“I don’t think so. All that would do is put both him and me on the defensive. This isn’t a kidnapping or even a horse-napping, right? It’s merely a saddle theft.”
“Damn expensive saddle theft. Janine Emerson’s saddle was appraised for over eight grand.” Duke scratched his head. “This has gone from bad to worse, Dinah. Every time we turn around, our no-good thieves seem to raise the stakes.”
With the exception of Midnight, she agreed. It did seem as if the thieves were getting pretty darn expensive tastes.
After another hour or so, they headed home. Duke, to his sweet Angie.
Dinah? To a night of sleepless tossing and turning. Waiting for dawn. And waiting to question a man who had one time been a real good friend. And who she’d come very close to kissing just a few nights ago.
Now that things between them were bound to get worse, Dinah kind of wished she had.
Austin: Second Chance Cowboy Page 7