Guardian Cowboy. Carla Cassidy
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Janis being loose and wild. “This is the work of some no-count creep. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s cleaned up before morning, but first we need to call Dillon.”
Dillon Bowie was the chief of police for the small town. More recently he had become the husband of Cassie, who owned the ranch Sawyer called home.
“And I should call Gary,” she said as she drew in several deep breaths in an obvious effort to push back her tears.
Gary Runyon owned the bar and Sawyer agreed that he should be called, as well.
The minute the calls had been made, Janis got out of the truck. Sawyer quickly followed her. She stood with her back to him and stared at the building where the letters were faintly visible in the illumination from a nearby streetlight.
He could hear that she was still softly crying and could see that her entire body visibly trembled. “Janis,” he said softly as he grabbed her by one arm and turned her around to face him.
She instantly came into his arms and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her in an effort to somehow comfort her.
“Nobody will see this except us and Dillon and Gary,” he said. “I’ll make sure it’s painted over by morning. I promise.”
“But why would somebody do this to me?” Her breath was a warm caress against his neck. She released a small laugh that had nothing to do with her being amused. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think my mother was behind this.”
“Your mother?” Shock swept through him.
She shook her head. “Never mind. Like I said earlier, it’s a long story for another time.”
What kind of story could make a woman believe her mother was capable of doing something like this? Sawyer couldn’t imagine. “Come on, let’s get back in the truck to wait. It’s cold out here.”
They got back in the truck, where he started the engine to get some heat blowing from the vents.
“I’m sorry, Janis,” he said.
She turned and looked at him in surprise. “Why are you sorry?”
“I feel partially responsible for this. It probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t spent the night with you last night.”
“I’m a grown woman and I have a right to a personal life without somebody judging me for it. This is just so embarrassing...and...and it’s vile. I hope Dillon finds the person responsible,” she replied.
Sawyer didn’t want to tell her that he seriously doubted Dillon would be able to catch the culprit. In any case, at that moment Dillon arrived, his lights whirling blue and red across the building.
Sawyer and Janis got out of the truck as Dillon departed his police car. “Nasty piece of work,” he said in greeting. He looked at Janis. “Any idea who might be responsible?”
She shook her head. “None. I can’t imagine who would do something like this.”
“I, uh... I spent the night with Janis last night,” Sawyer said. “Maybe that has something to do with it?”
“Janis’s business should be nobody else’s business,” Dillon replied. “You’re both consenting adults.”
“Wait...maybe I do know somebody who would do something like this. Last night at work I poured a beer in Zeke Osmond’s lap,” Janis said.
“Was it an accident or on-purpose spill?” Dillon asked.
“On purpose,” she replied. “He kept grabbing my backside and I’d finally had enough.” Her gaze went back to the building. “He was definitely angry enough at me to do something like this.”
“Or maybe you have a secret admirer who didn’t like the idea of you being with Sawyer,” Dillon said in speculation. “I’m going to look around to see if I can find a paint can that might have been discarded. But, honestly, there isn’t much I can do about this.”
Gary Runyon’s van pulled into the parking lot. Gary was a big man, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He and his wife, Abigail, had recently celebrated their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary. They had two daughters.
“Gary, I’m so sorry,” Janis said. “Please don’t let me go.”
“Let you go? You mean fire you?” He shook his head. “Janis, honey, did you paint the back of my building?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she replied.
“Then why on earth would I let you go? You’re the best damned bar manager anyone could have.” The big man nodded at Sawyer and then walked over to Dillon, who had begun his paint can hunt.
Sawyer flung an arm over Janis’s shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.
“As okay as I can be,” she replied as she moved even closer to his side. She looked over to where Dillon was walking around and Gary was on his cell phone. “Dillon isn’t going to be able to find out who did this, is he?”
Sawyer hesitated a moment and then replied, “Probably not. But somebody who has the mentality to do something like this will possibly brag to a friend, or get drunk and say something incriminating. Zeke Osmond isn’t the brightest star in the sky.”
Gary walked over to where the two of them stood. “I’ve called in Miguel and James to repaint the building. They should be arriving within the next half hour or so.” He smiled at Janis. “Don’t you worry, honey. This will all be gone well before morning.”
Sawyer knew both men in passing and they had always been friendly. Miguel Gomez was one of the cooks and James Warner worked as the bar’s janitor.
“Dock my pay,” Janis said. “I know those two will expect to be paid for working on something like this in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t you worry about it. I’ve got this,” Gary replied. “Why don’t you get out of the cold and get inside where you belong?”
She took Gary’s advice.
Minutes later she sat on the bed inside her room with Sawyer seated next to her. They had taken off their coats and hung them on hooks on the wall next to the door. “You sure know how to make a date exciting,” Sawyer said in an effort to lift the darkness from her eyes.
She gave him a small smile. “I like a little excitement on my dates, but not quite this much.” The smile lasted only a minute and then fell away. “Sawyer, you don’t have to stay any longer. I’m fine.”
“I just thought I’d hang around until Miguel and James show up to get things cleaned up and then I’ll head home.” He wanted to ask her about her mother. He also wanted to know if she always smelled so good and if he’d really been a good lover the night before. But now wasn’t the time or the place for those kinds of conversations.
“At least I can thank you for a wonderful evening before you brought me home,” she said. She wiped at her cheeks. “And I suppose I look like a raccoon now from all my blubbering.”
“A very pretty raccoon,” he replied. It was true that some of her mascara now rested beneath her eyes where it didn’t belong, but even that didn’t detract from her natural prettiness.
Unexpected desire surged inside him and he got up from the bed. “Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before I leave?” He gestured to the machine she’d used that morning to make him a cup of brew. “Although I imagine you could probably use something stronger.”
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You work here and you don’t drink?”
“Maybe it’s because I do work here that I don’t,” she replied. “I’ve seen a lot of people act the fool because of too much alcohol and it’s just really never interested me.”