The Texan's Christmas. Linda Warren
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okay.” She brushed it away. “It was just a shock seeing him after all these years.” She reached down and scratched Ollie’s head. “I’ve got to go. I have to meet Travis in a few minutes.”
“Lucky.”
“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about Kid.”
“I’m not worried about Kid. It’s Travis. I want you to get out of this job.”
“It’s what I do and I’m very good at it.”
“It’s dangerous.”
She sighed at this same old conversation. “I’m well trained and can take care of myself.”
“You’re a woman and cattle rustling is a man’s game.”
Her job was top secret and she knew her father would never tell anyone. It would endanger her life. She worked as an undercover agent to a special ranger for the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association. Cattle rustling was on the upswing because of the economy. Not only cattle, but tractors, ATVs, farm equipment, saddles and tack—anything that could be sold. She spent most of her day selling beer and listening for tidbits of information. Sometimes it paid off and they could shut down an operation or a petty thief eager to make a fast buck.
“Don’t worry.” She kissed her dad’s cheek and headed for the door before he could get in another plea.
In her Chevy pickup she sped toward an old dirt road that was rarely used. She tried to push thoughts of Kid away, but he was always there in the hidden corners of her mind. So many wasted years of regret. She wished she could erase him like a recording and all that would be left would be a blank tape—a place to rewrite, a place to start over.
She spotted Travis’s truck. Parking behind him, she pushed a button and the window slid down. The heat of the late afternoon was still oppressive, or maybe it was just the warring thoughts inside her.
A tall lean man with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes walked toward her. At the lowest point in her life she’d found a friend—a true friend who wanted nothing but to help her.
When her dream of having a nursing career had fallen apart, she’d had to search for work. No way could she come home with her tail between her legs. The old biddies in High Cotton said she would never amount to anything. How could she? She was practically raised in a bar. The Bible-touting women did little for her self-esteem, but Kid had restored her confidence in herself, in life.
And then he’d destroyed it.
She’d fought the memory like she’d fought for so many things. After years of menial jobs, she was hired as a gopher for a big convention center in Austin. It was still a menial job, but it was interesting. That’s how she’d met Travis. The Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association was having a big meeting and Travis was the keynote speaker, educating people on how to keep their cattle and their equipment safe.
He’d arrived early as she and another lady were setting up microphones, video equipment, tables with water and every little thing that had been requested. One of her jobs was to make the guests comfortable with coffee, water or whatever. She liked Travis and he was easy to talk to. Before she knew it she was telling him about High Cotton, her dad, The Beer Joint.
It was a one-meeting-type thing, or so she’d thought. He’d called the next day and asked if she was interested in a job. When he’d told her what he needed, she was shocked and told him she had no experience. His answer was she’d have to be trained. She went to seminars at the police academy in Austin, took self-defense classes and learned to use a gun.
It was exciting compared to her ho-hum life. While they were working a case, she’d asked him why he’d picked her without any qualifications for an undercover agent. His answer was simple—he’d liked her character and she knew her way around a bar. Surprisingly, that didn’t hurt her feelings. Beer and rustling seemed to go together.
She’d worked several counties with Travis where rustling was the strongest. Her cover was always in beer joints in small, out-of-the-way towns. Then her dad had fallen and that had given her the courage to return home. She was still the barkeep’s daughter, but ironically it didn’t matter anymore. Even though no one knew her real job, she felt good about herself. And that’s all it took—belief in herself.
Like Kid had once made her feel.
As Travis stopped at her window, she wondered why she’d never fallen for him. He was handsome, personable and trustworthy, but the passion, that special chemistry, wasn’t there.
She feared she’d used it all up on a man who hadn’t deserved it.
“Got anything?” he asked, tilting his hat. Sweat peppered his forehead. For the first week in September, it was still hot.
They usually met once a month if they were working a big case, but most of their contact was through the phone and text messages. She was careful to delete everything from Travis in case someone managed to get her phone. His name wasn’t even on her cell. His number was under a fake name. They were very cautious.
“No,” she replied. “The three cowboys came in, but they didn’t let anything slip. They only stayed about thirty minutes and were more interested in flirting with me.”
“Lucky, be careful. These guys are no good.” Concern coated every word.
“I’m always careful. You know that.”
“Yeah. You throw yourself into these cases and sometimes I feel guilty. You should be married with babies.”
Her heart stopped and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. He was right. At thirty-eight she should be married.
I’ll love you forever, Lucky.
But Kid hadn’t loved her at all. Why couldn’t a starry-eyed teenager see that? Because she wanted to believe.
“Nine cows and six calves were stolen from the Hopper place last night,” Travis was saying. She blinked and forced her thoughts back to the conversation.
“The Hoppers are in their seventies and they use the money from calf sales to supplement their Social Security. Now it’s gone—” Travis snapped his fingers “—just like that. I preach infrared digital game cameras to ranchers all the time. They’re relatively cheap at a sporting goods store, but I have a hell of a time getting anyone to use them until something is stolen.”
Lucky had installed two on their property in trees overlooking their corral and the fence line. They were battery operated and snapped photos of anything that moved, even at night. Her father had also used calf sales to supplement their income. He usually sold calves around Christmastime so Lucky could have a good Christmas. One year rustlers wiped out his herd and Christmas was very lean at their house. Lucky always remembered how hurt her father had been. Maybe that’s why she was in this business. She didn’t want anyone else to go through that. Or maybe she enjoyed doing something meaningful for the community. It boosted her self-worth and confidence.
“It’s always an afterthought,” she said, running her hand along the steering wheel.
Travis reached for his cell and showed her several photos. “There’s the Hopper brand that’s on the cattle. And here’s a silver inlaid saddle Mr. Hopper was going to give to his great-grandson.”
She studied the pictures. “The Hoppers are really nice people.” She didn’t know them personally, but they were big in the church and spoke to Lucky whenever they saw her. Most of the holier-than-thou people turned their heads without acknowledging her presence.
“Yeah. My guess is the cowboys will try to move the saddle quickly. If they come back in tonight, they’ll probably have a lot of cash.”
“I’ll watch for the signs.”
Travis patted the window opening. “Just be careful. I’ll be patrolling the back roads tonight. Call if you need anything.”
He strolled to