Taming a Texas Devil (Bad Boy Ranch Book 5)

by Katie Lane

“Someone obviously didn’t want to be seen coming in the front gate,” Lincoln said as he examined the tire tracks. He stood and smiled at her. “Good job, Deputy.”

  The praise made Dixie feel a little giddy. She couldn’t help the swagger in her step when they headed back to the opening in the fence. “Now all we need to do is figure out the motive. Why would someone what to burn down the Dailys’ trailer? And with Cheyenne in it?”

  “My guess is that they didn’t know Cheyenne was in it. She should’ve been at school.” Lincoln held the fence back so she could get through and she did the same when she got to the other side. He bent to follow and grimaced.

  “You did hurt your back, didn’t you?” she said.

  He ducked through the hole in the fence. “I’m sure it’s just a strained muscle. It will be fine.”

  As they searched around the back of the Dailys’ trailer, she couldn’t help asking, “You don’t think this has anything to do with Sam Sweeney, do you?”

  “Unlikely. I doubt the Dailys even knew Sam. Cheyenne’s grandmother lived clear out here and Cal had probably already moved to Abilene by then. But it’s a good question to ask Cal when he gets home.”

  Cal arrived only minutes later. He looked completely stunned when he got out of his truck and saw the shell of his mother’s house. Cheyenne had gone over to the neighbor’s trailer with Queenie, but she must have been watching for her father because she came running out and hugged him. Cal hugged her back and tucked his face into her shoulder—no doubt hiding his tears. The sight just about broke Dixie’s heart.

  “Those poor folks. They have been through so much in the last year,” she said. “Now they’ve lost their home.”

  “It could’ve been worse. Cal could’ve lost Cheyenne. Things can be replaced. People can’t.”

  She glanced over at him and her heart broke even more. She had always known Lincoln was a strong man. She just hadn’t known how strong until she found out about his childhood. He was the definition of a survivor. He had survived the loss of both parents and child abuse and had still become a good man.

  A good man Dixie had accused of murder.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

  He glanced over at her. “Don’t apologize, Dixie. You were right to suspect me. I am a prime suspect. And just because I gave you a sob story doesn’t mean you should let me off the hook. Good law officers never let their emotions get in the way of doing their job.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you?”

  “That’s what a good deputy would do until she knows for a fact that I’m not guilty.”

  “I know for a fact you’re not guilty, Lincoln.”

  “How’s that?”

  “No murderer would climb up a tree to save a cat.”

  He shook his head. “That had nothing to do with that crazy cat. It had to do with me not wanting you to break your fool neck.”

  “My point exactly. I’ve given you plenty of reasons to want me gone, and yet you were still worried about me.”

  His dark eyes stared back at her from the shadow of his Stetson. “You’ve kinda grown on me, Deputy.” Before she could get a little misty-eyed over his declaration, he took out his phone and made a call. “Hey, Val . . . yeah, I’m good. Listen, I have a big favor to ask. I know you said you don’t have any rooms available at the boardinghouse until the end of April. But I was wondering if you would be willing to rent out the room you write in . . . yeah, the garden room. Cal and Cheyenne Daily’s trailer burned down and they need a place to stay for a while.” He paused. “You sure?” A smile lit his face. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  Dixie didn’t even wait for him to hang up before she started asking questions. “What did he say? Can they rent a room?”

  “No.” When her face fell, he tapped her on the nose. “Val and Reba are going to let the Dailys stay in their cottage for free while they take the garden room.”

  Dixie was so happy that she did something very unprofessional.

  She hugged a Texas Ranger.

  Surprisingly, he let her for a few seconds before he set her away from him. “That’s enough, Deputy Meriwether. We have reports to file and a family to get settled.”

  But it wasn’t easy to get Cal and Cheyenne settled. Cal stubbornly refused to accept Val and Reba’s offer of the cottage.

  “I don’t take handouts,” he said. “Cheyenne and I can stay at a hotel in Abilene until I can find work. Now that we don’t have a home, there’s no reason to stay in Simple.”

  “But Daddy—” Cheyenne sent Dixie a pleading look, and Dixie couldn’t help but jump in.

  “You have a job here, Cal. The people of Simple couldn’t be happier that they have their own resident mechanic. And the cottage isn’t a handout. I think Val was hoping you’d help him out while you were there. You know he’s a big-time writer. But since he married Reba and he’s helping her with all the new business at the boardinghouse, he hasn’t had much time to write. But if he had a handyman like you living there who could help him and Reba out every now and again, it would free Val up to do a lot more writing.” She winked. “And a lot more newlywedding with Reba.”

  While Cal paused to consider Dixie’s words, Lincoln surprised her by stepping in. “Just give it a couple months, Cal. You just lost your home and you’re shaken. Both you and Cheyenne need some time to recover. If by summer, you decide not to stay, I’ll help you find a job in Abilene. I happen to have a friend who owns a couple auto shops there.”

  “Please, Daddy,” Cheyenne said. “Please let me stay until the end of school.”

  That tipped the scale. Cal blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay.” He looked at Lincoln. “But make sure Val understands that I’ll be working for our room and board.”

  “I’m sure he’ll welcome the help with open arms,” Dixie said as she pulled Cheyenne close.

  Lincoln helped Cal load up the plastic garbage bags of clothes and keepsakes that Cheyenne had grabbed before the flames had reached the inside of the trailer. While they did it, they both gave Cheyenne stern lectures on going back inside a burning house. Dixie kept her mouth shut and thought about what she would grab if her apartment caught on fire. Queenie and the picture of her parents came to mind first . . . and her deputy badge. She had gotten pretty attached to it.

  Once Cal’s truck was loaded, Dixie went to the neighbor’s and got Queenie, then she and Lincoln followed the Dailys to Dixon’s Boardinghouse. Reba, Val, and Aunt Gertie were waiting for them on the front porch.

  Reba gave Cal and Cheyenne a big hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about your home, but we have the cottage all ready for you.”

  “About that,” Cal said. “I won’t take it for free. I’ll pay you what I can and work off the rest.”

  “Darn tootin’ you will,” Miss Gertie called down from the porch. “We’re not runnin’ a charity operation here. And another thing, breakfast is served at eight-thirty and supper at six. If you’re late, you’ll go hungry. Now send that young thing up here so I can make sure she’s not one of those drugged out teenagers who smokes that mary-juana and ditches school.”

  Cheyenne shot a scared look over at Dixie, and Dixie leaned in and whispered. “Just smile and win her over with your charm, honey. If you can get Miss Gertie on your side, you’ll win any war. Including the one with your daddy to stay in Simple.”

  Cheyenne immediately straightened and smoothed down her hair. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Gertie. I’m coming.” She hurried up the porch steps.

  “You know how to knit?” Miss Gertie asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Crochet?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Sew?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Miss Gertie snorted. “What is this world comin’ to?” She got up and grabbed her walker, where Rhett Butler sat in the basket. Dixie was thankful she’d left Queenie in the truck. She didn’t want her cat anywhere near Gertie’s vicious varmint. “Well, co
me on in,” Miss Gertie said. “We’ll need to start with knitting and work our way up.”

  When they were gone, Lincoln looked at Val. “Didn’t you say something about your lawn mower not working right?”

  Val looked confused for only a second before he played along. “Yeah, I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.”

  “I could take a look,” Cal said.

  “I’d appreciate it. It’s in the shed out back. Linc, why don’t you take Cal through the garden and show him the cottage and I’ll grab a few beers out of the fridge and meet you at the shed.” Val headed up the porch steps and inside.

  Once he was gone, Lincoln glanced at Dixie. “You coming, Deputy Meriwether?”

  “Lawn mowers and beer really aren’t my thing, so you boys go on ahead. I’m going to stay here and chat with Reba.” Or take a nap. She was exhausted. She hadn’t slept a wink the night before worrying about Lincoln being a murderer. Now she didn’t know how she could’ve entertained the thought for even a second. He was a good man.

  * * *

  ‘Then I’ll see you in a while,” he said. But instead of leaving, he reached out and brushed his warm fingers over her cheek. “Soot.” He turned and walked away.

  Dixie placed a hand on her still-tingling cheek.

  “They’re hard to resist, aren’t they?”

  Dixie lowered her hand and turned to Reba, who was smiling softly. “Double Diamond bad boys,” Reba repeated. “They’re hard to resist.”

  Since there was no use denying it, Dixie nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, he has no problems resisting me.”

  And she knew why.

  Lincoln’s daddy had left him. His mama had left him. And his wife had left him. He had struck out with love and he wasn’t willing to give it another chance. Dixie didn’t know why the thought made a knot form in her stomach. She wasn’t looking for love. She had a dream to fulfill.

  And yet, as she watched Lincoln step into the garden, she felt like her dream was right here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You want another beer, Linc?” Val lifted a bottle from the cooler that sat on the back steps of the boardinghouse.

  Lincoln accepted the beer, even though he should have declined it. He’d already had two while Cal looked over the engine of the lawn mower that wasn’t broken and two more with the dinner that Reba had insisted he and Dixie stay for.

  It had been about the best chicken potpie he’d ever had in his life. He’d enjoyed sitting at the long dining room table filled with the boardinghouse guests and listening to the steady flow of conversation as the fluffy dinner rolls Val had baked were passed around.

  After his mother died, it had been just Lincoln and his grandmother. Granny Hayes hadn’t been much of a conversationalist. Which was probably why he’d learned to eat fast and be excused. It wasn’t until he got to the Double Diamond ranch that he discovered mealtime wasn’t just about eating. It was about sharing thoughts and dreams and laughter with people you cared about and who cared about you. It was about feeling comfortable in a crowd.

  Like Granny Hayes, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. But Dixie was. And she had a knack for pulling him into every conversation and making him feel part of the group. It was a good feeling.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Val asked.

  “We don’t know who started the fire, but it looks like arson to me,” he said.

  “I wasn’t talking about the fire. I was talking about what’s going on between you and Deputy Meriwether.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” He took a deep swallow of beer. “We’re just working on Sam’s case together.”

  Val shrugged. “Okay, if you want to pretend nothing is going on, that’s up to you. But take it from me, it’s a waste of time. I did the same thing with Reba and the pretense will catch up with you.” He took a swallow of beer and moved on. “So how’s Sam’s case going?”

  Lincoln hadn’t told any of the boys about the bone, but it was time to. The forensic report would be back soon and the news would be out. If he didn’t share it now, his friends would be pissed. Although Holden would probably be pissed anyway. He thought Lincoln wanted him to drop Boomer by the ranch because he loved dogs.

  “We found a bone on the Double Diamond ranch.”

  Val choked on his beer. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. “A human bone?”

  Lincoln nodded. “The forensics report isn’t back yet, but I would bet money on it being Sam’s. We also discovered his truck—or a record of it having been towed. It was abandoned out off Highway 281 around the same time Sam was fired.”

  “Shit.” Val rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the bottle he cradled between his hands. “You don’t think Chester shot him and then he and Lucas got rid of the truck, do you?”

  “I don’t think so, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Lucas and Chester live by the code of the West and sometimes that code can be pretty brutal.” He stared out at the garden for a few moments before he spoke. “Chester did ride back to the ranch the day Sam threatened you. When he saw Sam leaving, he followed him and cut him off on the road. He claims he didn’t try to kill Sam. He just fired some shots at his truck.”

  Val blew out his breath. “A jury might see it differently.” He glanced up. “Have you told Holden? He might need to defend Chester.”

  “Damn, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Val reached out and placed a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “I know you feel torn between your duty and your love for those old cowboys.”

  Torn didn’t even come close to summing up how Lincoln felt. And the fact that he hadn’t taken Sam’s disappearance seriously made it even worse. “When the forensics report comes back, I’ll have to report what Chester told me. I’m just praying I figure out what happened to Sam before that.”

  “And you have no leads.”

  “It’s hard to find leads on a sixteen-year-old murder. I’m going to start questioning people in town about Sam.”

  “What about Maisy? Have you told her anything?”

  “No. And I’m not going to until we find out if the femur is Sam’s.” Then he needed to tell Maisy the entire truth, including the truth about his relationship to Sam. He owed her that. He also owed her an apology for being such an ass to her. She wasn’t Sam. She was just a young woman searching for her father. Which proved that she’d suffered from Sam’s abuse too. Maybe not physically, but desertion was a form of abuse.

  “Hey,” Reba peeked her head out the open screen door. “You two bad boys need to call it a night. Dixie’s done in.”

  Lincoln wasn’t sure what Reba was talking about until he got to the front porch and found Dixie sound asleep in the porch swing with Queenie asleep on her chest.

  He gently shook her arm. “Wake up, Deputy Meriwether.” The cat woke and jumped to the ground, but Dixie was dead to the world. Not knowing what else to do, he scooped her up and headed down the porch steps. Val hurried to open the passenger side door of Lincoln’s truck.

  Once Lincoln had Dixie inside, he reclined the seat so she would be more comfortable, then fastened her seatbelt. Strands of golden hair had fallen over her face, and he smoothed them back before gently closing the door. When he turned, Val stood there holding Queenie with a knowing smile on his face.

  “Yeah, you just work together.”

  Lincoln didn’t comment as he took the cat and headed around to the driver’s side of the truck. “Thanks for dinner, Reba,” he called up to Reba who stood on the porch.

  “Anytime, Linc. Same goes for Dixie.” She wore the same goofy smile as her husband.

  It was a short drive to Dixie’s apartment. When he pulled in front, he misjudged the curb and drove up on it. Obviously, he shouldn’t have had that last beer. The jarring bounce caused the cat on his lap to sink her claws into his thigh.

  “Sonofa—” He cut off, not wanting to wake Dixie, but only a second later she sat up in the seat and looked around.

  “What
. . . where are we?”

  He unhooked the cat’s claws from his jeans and handed her to Dixie. “Your apartment. You fell asleep on the porch.”

  She blinked sleepily and then yawned and stretched before noticing that one tire of the truck was sitting up on the curb. “What happened?”

  Lincoln cleared his throat. “I misjudged the curb a little.” He put the truck in reverse and tried to ease the tire off the curb, but the landing was still jarring.

  “A little?” Dixie looked over at him. Her hair fell around her face in mussed, sexy waves of butterscotch gold and her green eyes were heavy-lidded. She had never looked sexier. “Are you drunk, Lincoln?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. We need to fill out a report on the fire.” He waited for her to get out, but instead she reached across and pushed the ignition button, turning off the engine. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “My job.” She grabbed the key fob out of the cup holder before she opened the door and got out. She was almost to her front door before Lincoln got over his shock and jumped out of the truck.

  “Give me back my keys, Dixie.”

  “Nope.” She unlocked and opened her door. “You taught me that as a deputy I’m responsible for the safety of the people in my county. And I’m not going to let you drive all the way back to the Double Diamond ranch drunk. You shouldn’t have even driven here.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  “Prove it.”

  “How exactly would you like me to prove it? Do you happen to have a sobriety test with you?”

  She thought for a moment. “Pat your head and rub your stomach in a circle.”

  “What?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “You’re right. I can’t even do that when I’m sober.” Her eyes lit up. “Say ‘Rubber baby buggy bumpers’ three times really fast.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Where are my keys?”

  She looked down at the open collar of her deputy shirt. “Somewhere you have no desire to go.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Her smile was smug and annoying. “I did.”