Chapter Nine
The moment Dinah Hart sauntered into his shop, tan sheriff’s shirt neatly tucked, hand lightly resting on the gun on her hip, expression solemn, Austin knew she had a bone to pick with him.
Though he could meet her somber expression easily, he didn’t care to do that. Like always, he found it a heck of a lot easier to don his good-old-boy attitude and wear it proudly, with style. “Sheriff Hart, it’s a pleasure to see you. What brings you in? Need a new pair of jeans, perchance?”
That—as he’d hoped—brought her up short. “I’ve never heard a man say ‘perchance,’ Austin.”
“That’s because I’m an individual. Some might even call me unique.” He raised a brow. “Or haven’t you heard?”
To his delight, he saw her lips twitch, signaling that somehow, someway, he’d broken through her serious facade. “I have heard that. Much to my shame.”
He walked around the counter and made a show of looking her jeans over. As if she could ever not fill them out well. “So, what are you thinking? Size-four Wranglers? Or maybe something a little fancier?” He waggled his brows. “Or tighter?”
Smoothing her hands down a pair of very fine hips, Dinah looked more than a little taken aback. “I didn’t know you had gotten so adept at sizing women and their jeans.”
“It’s been a lifelong project. It’s taken a bit of practice, but my ability to guess a woman’s clothing size is uncanny.”
“I can only imagine the homework you had to do.”
He sighed dramatically. “It was a difficult job, but it had to be done. For the sake of the store, of course.”
“Of course,” she echoed sarcastically. “I’m surprised the women you’ve practiced on haven’t started a club…or a support group.”
“Work always comes first, you know.” Staring at her, he tried to figure out what was specifically different about her. She was upset about something, and it wasn’t the usual. “You’re not still fixated on Vanessa, are you?”
“No. I do owe you an apology for the way I sounded. I know you wouldn’t fool around with a married woman. And Vanessa wouldn’t act like that, either.” Her cheeks flushing, she swallowed hard, then continued. “In addition, Vanessa’s never been anything but nice to me, and Duke’s wife, Angie, has even mentioned that she’s been a sweetheart with her son, Luke. I can only blame my peevishness on being tired and stressed out.”
“I’ll take that.” For a moment, he was tempted to run his hands over her shoulders. Plant a thumb under her collar and rub her smooth skin. Ease those muscles.
More than that, she looked as though she needed someone to believe in her. “You can’t do it all, Dinah,” he said quietly. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Maybe it was the mention of being human. Maybe she thought he was insinuating that she was weak. But whatever the reason, her softness vanished as if it had been a figment of his imagination. “Austin, I didn’t come in here to get outfitted. Or comforted. By you.”
That “by you” pissed him off. “Why did you come in here, Dinah?”
Oh, that drawl. Oh, the way that starched blue shirt made his eyes look so beautiful. Steeling herself, Dinah said, “I need to know what you were doing last night. And I need to ask you if I can take a look around the store.”
“Excuse me?”
There was a part of her that completely got his irritation. Shoot, she would have been irritated, too. No one wanted to be a suspect, especially not on a trumped-up hunch that someone might have seen his old truck in the vicinity “sometime” around the time of the suspected robbery. Even if that witness had been Pete Boone.
“There was a robbery last night, Austin. I need to know where you were.”
“Why?” His voice hardened. He folded his arms over his chest. “Are you thinking that I might have something to do with it?”
“I didn’t say that.” She rolled her shoulders. Though it sounded lame, she said, “Actually, I was kind of hoping we could talk through what you were doing last night.”
“Talk through?”
“You know, as friends.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Friends? I don’t think so. I don’t know what we are, but I think calling us ‘friends’ might be stretching the definition of our relationship.”
His words stung. Even though they were true. She wanted to kiss him, that was true. But she didn’t trust him. At all.
She didn’t know what they had become, but the sad truth was that they’d long ago said goodbye to their former friendship.
Now it didn’t matter what they were. “Austin, look, this is making me uncomfortable, too. But someone said that they might have seen your truck in the vicinity of a recent robbery. It’s my duty to investigate every loose end.”
“I wasn’t out stealing tack on Monday night, Dinah.”
“So where were you?”
Instead of answering, he lobbed another question her way. “Where was the robbery? Whose ranch?”
“I’m not going to tell you that.” Please, she begged silently, just tell me your story and let it have witnesses!
“I’m not going to tell you where I was last night.”
“Were you here?”
“Not all night.”
“Who were you with? Can you give me her name?”
“‘Her name’?” His expression became colder. “So you’re assuming that I was with a woman…if I wasn’t out gallivanting around the countryside stealing saddles.”
Her heart suddenly felt as though it was about to jump out of her chest. “I didn’t say that.”
“It was close enough.”
“Come on, Austin. Just tell me.”
“No. Where I was isn’t any of your business.”
It made no sense, but she felt a fierce stab of jealousy coil through her. “If you were with a woman, I don’t care. I promise, I won’t embarrass her. I just need an alibi.”
He bit his lip, looking torn and troubled and more than a little bit horrified, but he stuck to his guns. “I wasn’t with a woman, Dinah. I’m not going to tell you where I was.”
Obviously, they’d reached a standstill. She tried another tack. “I’m going to walk in the back and look around.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Austin, don’t be difficult,” she snapped. Lord have mercy, why did the man have to argue and fuss about everything? If he’d only give her a straight answer every once in a blue moon, their relationship would be a whole lot smoother. “You and I both know that I’m trying to do my job.”
But her offer of conciliatory conversation went over about as well as a deflated hot-air balloon. His scowl deepened and his voice dipped to a dangerous low. “As far as I’m concerned, I still have rights. Is that true?”
With extreme effort, she refrained from rolling her eyes. “Of course it is.”
“Then I’m very sorry, ma’am, but if you really feel the need to search my store, you’re going to have to go get yourself a warrant.”
Getting a search warrant meant a heap of paperwork and a call to either a district attorney or a judge. It meant more bitter feelings and more time wasted.
It meant more time fussing and waiting instead of using her limited time to check out other leads.
Because, darn it, didn’t he see that she was really trying to clear his name?
“Think about what you’re saying.”
His gaze lit on her like laser beams, pract
ically scorching her with disdain. “Oh, I’m thinking about it. I’m thinking about how you’ve taken to waltzing in here, time after time, and always suspecting the worst of me. Fact is, I’m pretty darn sick of it.”
“That’s not fair, and it’s not true.” Though, maybe it kind of was? Ace seemed to think she was always jumping on the no-good-Wright bandwagon.
His blue eyes, which had always looked so dreamy on the rodeo circuit and perfectly warm in the sunlight in the park, looked icy cold and frosty now. “I completely agree with you. This doesn’t feel fair at all. But someone real smart once told me that life wasn’t fair.”
“And your point is?”
“My point is that this inquisition of yours chaps me something fierce, Dinah Hart. I know you always considered me white trash. But I thought you at least thought I was the honest kind. If you want to pin a string of robberies on me, if you really think I’m capable of stealing from my friends and neighbors—and then being fool enough to sell the stock in my store—then you can go get yourself a damn search warrant and do it legally.”
As she stood there, mouth open in shock, he turned away from her and walked right down the main aisle to his back storage room.
Feeling a bit like a girl getting jilted at the dance, she watched him leave.
And realized that while he was putting her down, he’d uncovered something she’d kept carefully hidden: after all this time, she still had a whole lot of feelings for Austin Wright.
And the realization came at the exact wrong time and the exact wrong place.
And he was right. Life wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.
“You just wait. I’m going to go get that damn warrant, Austin!” she called out. “And when I come back, you better be here.” Cocking her head, she braced herself for his comeback.
But she heard nothing other than the frustrated silence of a man on the edge.
Pivoting on her heel, she stomped out, hoping she could find a judge to give her a search warrant in under twenty-four hours.
* * *
THE MOMENT HE HEARD THE FRONT door of the shop close, Austin rested his head against the wall of his makeshift office and counted to ten.
His hands were shaking, he was so frustrated with that woman. A sudden, sharp need for a shot of Maker’s Mark hit him hard. Shoot, even a bottle of Bud would do the trick.
That’s what he needed, what he craved. Just a few hours of comforting oblivion. Where he wouldn’t have to think about his reputation or Dinah’s suspicions…or the way he suddenly felt a hell of a lot like his dad.
Before he knew it, he’d grabbed his hat and his keys, ready to lock up and spend the next few hours on a date with a bottle of bourbon.
Only the jangle of the door opening again saved him. “Austin? You in here?”
There was only one woman who had that husky, almost breathless voice. His sister, Cheyenne.
And he was so grateful, he almost kissed her. “Yeah,” he said after a cough. “I’m in the office. I’ll be right out.”
“Don’t bother, we’ll come on back.” She popped around the corner, her long auburn hair swinging around her shoulders with every sway of her hips. But the moment she took a good look at him, sitting on his chair behind his desk, her happy smile dimmed. “You look beat-up.”
He knew she was talking about the strain on his face. Knowing how he looked, and knowing how much he hated the reason behind it, he tried to laugh it off. “That good, huh?”
Glancing over at Sadie and Sammie, he noticed that they were watching him with wary expressions. Not wanting to scare them, he smiled their way. “I got some new coloring books at your table, girls. Want to see?”
They nodded and followed him to the little table and chair set he’d put in his office especially for their visits.
After Cheyenne got them settled and they were happily cracking open a brand-new box of crayons, she turned his way. “Austin, what’s going on?”
“Everything.”
Hesitantly, she pulled over a stepping stool and perched on the edge of it. “That much, huh? Want to talk about it?”
They were kind of new to this brother/sister talking thing. Though she’d called often from California, he’d always felt that her worries over their father were misplaced.
In addition, he felt that she had never been willing to completely open up about everything that had gone down with her and her husband, Ryan. He wished that he could have been there for her. But because she hadn’t reached out to him all that much, he realized that he hadn’t completely earned her trust.
Once again he wished he knew the right words to get her to trust him. “There’s kind of a lot to get into,” he said. Deciding to sidestep things instead of delve into the truth, he said, “And maybe now’s not the best time. The girls are here.”
“The girls are always with me. And they’re fine. Those crayons will keep them busy.” Cheyenne crossed her arms over her chest. “So start talking. We’ve just come from visiting with Leah and Mrs. Hart, so I have all the time in the world.”
The mention of Mrs. Sarah Hart only made Austin think of Dinah again. And yet again it made him get more than a little uncomfortable. “Before I talk, why don’t you tell me what put that pretty smile on your face?”
“Oh, it’s nothing all that special. I was just going to share that I got a big sale.” A slow, sweet smile lit her face.
He could tell that she was trying real hard to act blasé, but there wasn’t any reason to. She was pleased as punch, and as far as Austin was concerned, she had every reason to be. Ever since she’d come back to Roundup, she was doing her best to get her life back on track.
Because he was genuinely happy for her, a smile he didn’t know he still possessed inside of him peeked out. “With whom?”
“The Ladies Auxiliary Club of Roundup.”
He scratched his head. “I had no idea such a group existed.”
“Me, neither.” She shook her head. “But how it all happened is so amazing, Austin. I sold a necklace and earring set to Ace and Flynn Hart, and they gave the set to Mrs. Hart as a present. Then she wore it out to a meeting.” Shrugging a little bashfully, she said, “I guess Mrs. Hart was showing them off, and next thing you know, they decided to give my bracelets as party favors for their next big benefit.”
“That’s real good.”
“I think so, too! That’s twenty bracelets right there.”
“I’m proud of you, Chey.”
Her smile faltered, as if she suddenly remembered his condition when she walked in. “Thanks. Listen, I don’t know if you’re up for it, but I thought maybe we could celebrate or something.” Looking just as she did when she’d gotten her first 4-H ribbon when she was seven, she grinned. “We could go out to dinner and have a beer or a glass of wine or something.”
Austin felt as if he was getting torn in half. He didn’t have the heart to break hers by blowing her off.
But her entrance had given him the strength to be a little stronger than he thought he was. And now that he was back on track, a couple of those speeches from his AA meeting still rang in his ears like fire alarms. After finally getting up the courage to attend a meeting, he wasn’t in a big hurry to become a failure there.
In addition, he was still focusing on that last bit of advice he’d gotten from Vanessa. That he didn’t think about a lifetime of sobriety. Just a day.
“Um…listen. Going out sounds fun, but I kind of need to stick around
here for a while.” He stood up and enfolded her in a hug. As usual, his sister felt like a doll in his arms. She’d always been a petite little thing. He still couldn’t bear to think of how she’d managed to carry that pair of babies inside her, and that was a fact.
When he pulled away, he said, “What do you say you go get us all a couple of burgers from the Number 1 Diner? We can eat them here.”
“If I do that, will you tell me what’s got you in a funk?”
He ached to confide in her. If anyone would understand what he was going through and the problems he was facing, it was her. After all, she’d lived with Buddy Wright, too.
Shoot, she still was living with him. “I’ll try.”
Her gaze warmed. “I can work with that.” After getting his lunch order, she left with a twenty out of the cash drawer.
After checking on the girls, he pulled out his phone and punched in the numbers.
“Austin?” Alan asked. “Is that you?”
“Yeah.” His voice was husky. “Are you busy? I just need a few minutes.”
“I’ve got time. What happened?”
He closed his eyes, pushed away his shame and made himself talk. “I almost closed up my store and spent the afternoon upstairs in the dark with a bottle of Maker’s Mark.” Austin ached to tell Alan more. About how it looked as if Dinah was never going to see him as anything other than a pretty handsome cowboy who was destined for failure. But he stopped himself. After all, he was only willing to admit one weakness at a time.
There was a pause at the other end. Austin felt the muscle in his cheek jump. No doubt the guy was about to tell him how many ways he wasn’t ready to enter a program…especially one where he was expected to monitor himself.
“What stopped you from cracking open that bottle?”
“My sister. She came in with her girls and wanted my company.” Still staring at the door and praying that it would stay closed for a few minutes longer, he said, “But if she hadn’t…” His voice drifted off. Lord, his words sounded as stark and bleak as the back wall of his father’s barn.
Austin: Second Chance Cowboy Page 8