by SUE FINEMAN
Callie slammed the door and twisted the lock. “Sweet Lord, are we ever in trouble now.”
“It’s my turn,” muttered Bo. “I’ve pulled my brother’s ass out of the fire so many times, my hands are singed. He can bail us out when he gets here.” He just hoped the deputy would have calmed down by the time they left the attorney’s office.
While Bo cradled his sore arm and took deep breaths to try to control the pain, Callie quickly filled Mr. Houser in about the charges against her, spewing out words at a rapid clip. “Tommy Ray got a warrant for my arrest. He said I stole Billy Smith’s car, but I never even touched that car. Tommy Ray made it up so he’d have a reason to arrest me and beat on me again. Last time he found me, he nearly killed me, and if he kills me, he’ll get Brady. I need you to do something to make sure he can’t ever get my son. Tommy Ray doesn’t care beans about Brady and Brady isn’t his anyway.”
The attorney looked at Bo and lifted his chin as if asking the question.
“It doesn’t matter who fathered Brady,” said Bo. “He isn’t Tommy Ray’s kid, and Tommy Ray has no business near that little boy or any other kids, for that matter. Brady is scared half to death of him, and if you saw the scars on the boy’s back, you’d understand why. Any man who beats a kid like that doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s father.”
Randy Woford pounded on the door and demanded to be let in. Bo yelled, “Be right with you, Deputy.”
Callie handed Mr. Houser her grandfather’s will. “This says he left the ranch to me, but Tommy Ray thinks my daddy gave it to him. Would you please check the county records to see who owns the ranch now?”
“I’ll do that, Callie, and I’ll see if I can get you released, so you two won’t have to spend the night in the jailhouse.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.”
He made a copy of the will and gave the original back to Callie.
Bo glanced at Callie. “Ready?”
“I ‘spose.” Her face was a mask of worry, and Bo couldn’t blame her. By kicking the deputy, Bo had made the situation worse.
As Bo opened the door, Mr. Houser said, “I’ll be along as soon as I can get the judge to set bail.”
Callie stood in the open door and asked, “Mr. Houser, are you seeing Judge Trumble?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Be sure to tell him that Bo’s arm was shattered by a bomb while he served our country in Iraq.”
A collective gasp from outside told Bo they had an audience.
A wide grin spread on the attorney’s face. “Oh, yes, ma’am. I reckon that’ll make a difference in the judge’s opinion.”
Callie walked out to the sidewalk. “Put that gun down before you shoot yourself with it, Randy. Lord knows you can’t hit the long side of a barn with the darn thing.”
“I can shoot better’n you,” said Randy.
“I wouldn’t bet on that,” a man yelled from across the street. “Callie’s the best shot in town.”
Randy ignored the jibe and narrowed his eyes. “Put your hands up, shut your mouth, and walk on down to the jailhouse.”
Bo couldn’t put his left hand up if his life depended on it. He glanced around to see several people standing on the sidewalk and in the street, watching them. One older man in overalls asked, “Can we get anything for you, son?”
“A pillow to prop his arm on,” said Callie. “And an ice pack to take the swelling down. Thank you kindly for your trouble, Albert.”
The old man flashed a semi-toothless smile and two women walked toward the drug store. Bo nodded his thanks and walked down the street toward the jail.
A woman shouted, “Randy Woford, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Bo caught Callie’s eye and raised his eyebrows. Her eyes sparkled. “That’s Randy’s mama,” she said just loud enough for Bo to hear.
The pain pills took the edge off the pain, and Bo felt like he’d walked into an episode of Mayberry. Aunt Bea hollered at Barney Fife, and even though they were on their way to jail, the whole town seemed to be on their side. And when had Snow White turned into Calamity Jane?
There were no other prisoners in the jail, but Callie insisted on staying in the same cell with Bo, “So I can help ease his pain,” she told Randy. Poor Randy looked so cowed, he didn’t argue. And, to Bo’s surprise, he didn’t lock the cell door.
Minutes later, two ladies came in carrying lunch trays covered with napkins. Salad, huge sandwiches thick with tender slices of beef and cheese, and apple pie. Callie smiled and thanked them. The women ignored poor Randy, but after the ladies left, Callie said, “Randy, would you like half my sandwich? You can have the pie, too. I can’t eat all this.”
Bo gave Randy his salad, but he wouldn’t give up his pie even if the Wicked Witch of Hooterville made it. His mouth watered from the smell.
After lunch, Bo stretched out on the narrow bunk. Callie pulled a stool over and put a pillow on top to cushion his elbow. The swelling had gone down a little, but it puffed out, red and inflamed. There were things moving inside that weren’t supposed to be moving. Another piece of shrapnel had broken free, the pins had come loose, or there were more bone chips in there. The pins should have come out two years ago, but after that stupid Army surgeon screwed up, Bo wouldn’t let another surgeon touch it. He thought if he gave it time to heal, the pain would eventually go away, but it didn’t, and it wouldn’t until someone who knew what they were doing took care of it. Greg knew a good bone surgeon, but he wasn’t a military doctor, and a civilian doctor could cost more than Bo could pay.
In the meantime, Callie gave him enough TLC to get through anything. Or nearly anything. If the sheriff came back before Mr. Houser got them released, there’d be hell to pay.
While Bo slept off the pain pills, Callie used the restroom and returned to the cell to sit on the other bunk. She left the cell door open, since Randy didn’t seem concerned about locking them up. He seemed satisfied just having them where he could keep an eye on them, which was fine with Callie.
She had to figure out a way to get Bo out of here before Tommy Ray came back. It wasn’t right to put Bo’s life in jeopardy when he’d only been trying to help her and Brady.
Bo’s cell phone rang and Callie jumped to her feet. “Can I answer that, Randy?”
He shrugged. “I ‘spose.”
She walked out to Randy’s desk and picked up the cell phone from among the contents of Bo’s pockets and her purse. “Hello, this is Callie.”
“Greg here. Where’s Bo?”
“He’s sleeping right now. He hurt his arm and took some pain pills.”
“Okay. Where are you?”
“We’re prisoners in the jailhouse in Caledonia. It’s on the southeast corner of the town square. You can’t miss it.”
“Jailhouse?” Greg’s voice held a hint of laughter. “This I gotta see.”
Callie put the phone on the desk and walked back to the cell to wait quietly with Bo. Poor Bo. If only she could do something to make him feel better. At least Mr. Houser was fixing to talk to Judge Trumble. The judge was a war hero himself, and his two sons served in Bosnia and Afghanistan. He’d understand about Bo’s being sensitive to anyone touching his sore arm, and Bo would be released. Of course, she still had that charge against her. She’d likely stay here in the jailhouse until Tommy Ray came back and they went to court. And with Tommy Ray back in town, she wouldn’t be safe even in a jail cell.
She’d never found the need to have a will before, but she did now. She had Brady to think about, and the ranch. If Tommy Ray killed her, she wanted Bo and his family to keep Brady. The foster care system was all right, as systems go, but she didn’t want her little boy to be passed from family to family until he was too old to be adopted. Without her, Brady would need a new family. If Bo didn’t want him, she’d ask Greg if he and Neen would take him. Brady seemed happy with them.
As a wave of self-pity washed over her, Callie covered her face with her hands and tried not to cry. What had sh
e done to deserve this?
Randy walked over. “You all right, Callie?”
Dropping her hands to her lap, she said, “No, sir. I’m scared and I’m worried sick about Brady. Who’s gonna take care of him after Tommy Ray kills me?”
Randy gaped at her. “Kills you?”
She nodded. “Tommy Ray is so mean I couldn’t take it no more, so I ran away. He found me in Florida last month and beat me up real bad. If someone hadn’t come along and scared him off, he would have killed me. I spent three days in the hospital in Tampa and then I stayed in a shelter, so Tommy Ray couldn’t come back and finish the job.”
Randy shook his head. “Tommy Ray wouldn’t do something like that to a woman.”
“I’ve known you all my life, Randy. Have you ever known me to lie?”
“Well, no, but...” He stared at Callie. “Are you telling me Tommy Ray beats on you?”
“Oh, yes, sir. He beats on Brady, too. Poor kid is so scared, he won’t even talk when Tommy Ray is around. I can’t let him touch my little boy again.”
She prayed Tommy Ray didn’t find Brady. If he did, he might hurt Neen and Bo’s mama, too. And then he’d come back to Caledonia and kill her.
<>
Bo was still half-asleep when Greg arrived. He had his cowboy hat perched on his curly head and an attitude sure to get them all in a whole lot more trouble, as if they didn’t have enough trouble already.
As usual, Greg spouted off before understanding the situation. “My name is Adam Gregory, and I demand you release my brother,” he said to Randy.
Bo called, “Greg, don’t—”
“Why in the hell is he in jail?”
“Well, sir, he—”
Bo yelled, “Shut your mouth, Greg. I assaulted an officer of the law. He had every right to arrest me.”
Bo walked to the open door of the cell. “Randy was just doing his job, but he grabbed my sore arm and I snapped. Damn thing hurts like a toothache. Callie’s attorney is working on getting us out.”
Randy lifted his chin and tugged at his gun belt. “You watch your mouth, mister, or you’ll be in there with ‘em.”
“I apologize for my brother, Randy. He suffered too many life-threatening injuries when he worked for the DEA. Apparently the last one damaged his head.” Bo forged ahead, hoping the look of wonder on Randy’s face meant he was impressed with Greg’s DEA career. “Law enforcement runs in our family. Our sister is a police officer in Tacoma, Washington, our brother is a defense attorney, and our father was a police officer killed in the line of duty. Greg should know better than to speak to an officer of the law like that.”
Greg gave Bo a hidden thumbs-up sign.
Bo forged ahead. “I didn’t go into law enforcement. I joined the Marines instead and damned near got myself killed.”
“How’s your arm?”
“I need another operation, but I came here to help Callie first. She’s in a world of hurts and if somebody doesn’t take Tommy Ray out of the picture, he could kill her the next time he gets his hands on her. Whatever you do, don’t leave her alone with Tommy Ray.”
Randy stood taller than his five-six, skinny frame and put his hand on his gun. “Nobody is gonna hurt Callie while I’m on duty.”
Greg pointed to the cell. “Is it okay if I go in and speak with my brother?”
“Yes, sir, go right ahead.”
A look of amusement lit Greg’s eyes as he strolled in and sat on the cot beside Bo. “Don’t pick on Barney Fife,” Bo said quietly. “Poor guy has had a bad day.”
Callie walked around the corner and smiled. “Well, hello, Greg. It’s nice to see you.” She called, “Randy, I’m back in the cell now.”
“Okay.”
Greg burst out laughing. “What kind of jail is this?”
Bo grinned. “The friendly kind.”
Callie sat beside Bo. “Bo, while you were sleeping, Mr. Houser came by. He said if you don’t press charges against Randy for police harassment and Randy doesn’t press charges against you for assaulting him, you can leave any time.”
“What about you?”
“I have to go before a judge to answer the charge against me, so I imagine I’ll be staying here until Tommy Ray gets back.”
Bo saw the look of fearful resignation on Callie’s face. “I’m not leaving you here alone, Callie.” He couldn’t leave her here in Caledonia or at the ranch where Tommy Ray could get to her. He could lose her for good, and he couldn’t live with that.
Greg pulled a packet of pictures from his pocket and handed them to Callie. “This should help.” He handed another envelope to Bo. “Chance sent along a deposition with Brady’s statement about how he incurred those injuries. After he sees this, no judge in his right mind would let Tommy Ray put his hands on Brady again.”
Bo shook his head slightly. “This is Caledonia, Texas. They don’t do things the same way in this town.”
Greg leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. “All right, what’s the plan?” He looked from Callie to Bo. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” said Callie. “You take Bo to the hospital and have his arm fixed. I’ll see if I can get loose long enough to go out looking for whatever Daddy had buried out by the old cabin. If I give it to Tommy Ray—whatever it is—he might let me go.”
Bo shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere without me. I’ll see a doctor when we get back.”
“Then we’ll all go,” said Greg. “First, we have to spring Callie from jail.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” she said. “I’ll just invite Randy to come along. That way he can keep an eye on me and—”
Greg shook his head and Bo began to laugh. “Hey, this is Mayberry. It might work. Go ahead. Invite him along. We’ll need Betty Grable and Buttercup and a couple more—”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” said Greg, but Callie was already on her way out to Randy’s desk.
Bo didn’t know if it was the pain, the pain pills, or just this place, but he’d been a little off kilter since he arrived, and the way things were going, he’d stay that way.
Callie came back to the cell with the deputy. “Randy said we can stay in the motel tonight and first thing in the morning, we’ll ride out from the ranch.”
Bo looked up and nodded his thanks to Randy, and the little man stood a little taller.
As soon as Callie and Randy walked away, Greg said, “I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone or on Gilligan’s Island.”
Bo slapped Greg on the back and grinned. “This is Caledonia, Texas, brother. Same difference.”
<>
As Bo pulled into the long dirt drive of the Caledonia Ranch the next morning, the first streaks of sun crept over the hills, touching the land with golden fingers of light. Randy stood with two men beside a horse trailer, trusting that Bo and Callie would be there. Bo had met Albert in town yesterday. The other man, Junior, looked like a younger version of Albert. They were both shaped like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Albert’s nearly bald head glowed in the morning light, and they both had friendly smiles.
Bo, Callie, and Greg stood by the car as Randy sauntered over. “Morning. Albert and Junior brought Buttercup and Betty Grable, but Snickers threw a shoe and—”
“Horses?” said Greg. “We’re supposed to ride horses?”
Bo couldn’t hide a smile. “You don’t like horses?”
“You know damn well I don’t like horses. I thought you meant we’d ride out to wherever together, like...” He waved his hand. “Like a convoy or something.”
Albert and Junior led two horses out of the trailer. One was a pretty mix of gold and white, and the other was the most gorgeous golden palomino Bo had ever seen. “Betty Grable?”
Callie’s face glowed. “Yes, sir, that’s my baby. She was born here and she lived here on the ranch every day of her life until two years ago, when Tommy Ray sold her.” She walked over to rub the nose of her baby and the horse nuzzled into her neck,
obviously as happy to see Callie as Callie was to see her.
Bo raised his eyebrows and stared at his brother. “How much money you got on you?”
“Not enough to buy a horse, Bo.”
“Two horses.”
Greg leaned back against the car and crossed his arms. “Tell you what. You ride out with Callie and I’ll see if I can find a helicopter to bring us out this afternoon. And I’ll try to work a deal for the horses.”
“Deputy Woford, what do you say?” asked Bo. “Would it be all right if Callie and I rode out alone?”
Randy tugged at his belt. “Well, sir, I’m not any too fond of horses myself.”
Greg grinned and slapped the deputy on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over. “Then it’s settled. The deputy and I will be out later, with Skeeter.”
Bo cocked his head. “Skeeter?”
“He’ll be in around noon. He called yesterday, so I told him what was going on. He wants to help.”
Callie went into the house and came out wearing boots and a hat.
Bo plucked the white cowboy hat off Greg’s head. “Since you’re not riding out with us, you won’t need this.”
Greg looked down at his feet. “You want my boots, too?”
Bo shook his head. They wore the same size, but he needed two good arms to pull on boots, and right now, his left arm was next to worthless.
Greg asked, “Is there any way to get where you’re going without a horse?”
“I don’t think so, unless you can get close coming down the river. I haven’t seen the place yet, so I don’t really know.”
“Well, why in the hell didn’t you say so? Boats I can do, but not...” Greg waved his hand at the horses Callie and Junior had saddled. “And when did you learn to ride?”
“Remember that month I spent in Florida with Skeeter?”
“Yeah.”
“His folks lived on a horse ranch at the time. We rode nearly every day. Skeeter grew up on that ranch.”
“Last time I got near a horse, the damn thing bit me.”