The Cowboy And The Cop. Christine Wenger
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didn’t realize that he spoke the words out loud until Amber replied, “Good for you, Luke. Don’t forget to hire the town people back. They’ve worked hard for the Beaumonts. You don’t know the half of it.”
He looked around and saw the boarded-up windows and remembered the propped-up portico. “I think I do.”
Outside, he heard yelling and shouting and the tinny sound of cowbells ringing.
“What’s that?” he asked, walking over to the front door.
Amber followed him. “I hear it, too.”
On the way, Amber disturbed a pyramid of beer cans. Some thin, white rolling papers, which were sprinkled on the floor, attached themselves to her foot. Remnants of the kids’ parties, she assumed.
Luke upset a drawer full of mice and they scattered like pool balls all over the room.
What a mess his home had become.
The noise outside became louder. It was several of the townspeople leading horses, bulls and cows and more toward the house.
“Welcome home, Luke!” shouted a man in a rumpled cowboy hat and a poncho, leading a gigantic bull.
“We’re glad you won the auction. Hope you’re staying and fixing the place up, Luke.”
Luke recognized the neighbor from his position on the porch where the front door used to be. “I am, Santiago. I am. My brothers and I will be working hard this summer to restore the old place.”
“Good!” Santiago grinned and cheers went up, loud enough to spook a couple of horses.
Amber arrived next to him, and he moved over so she could see. He slipped an arm around her waist to steady her.
“This is your stock that we are bringing back, Luke. We kept the animals for you—the ones that Mr. Beaumont gave to us. Big Dan—he just doesn’t care,” said Michelle Goldsmith, another neighbor.
“I know.” Luke nodded.
“We’ve been taking care of them until someone returned. They are yours now,” Santiago said.
Luke shook his head. “I can’t thank you enough, but you all should keep them. You’ve been providing for them, so they should be yours.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Michelle said. “We’ll put some of the horses in the paddock and the rest in the pasture. All right? No arguing with us, Luke.”
“I feel so...humbled,” he whispered, and he doubted if anyone could hear him. Well, maybe Amber heard. He glanced at her and knew that she’d definitely heard. She was wiping away tears,
“What a beautiful thing to do,” she said, her voice cracking.
Luke felt his own eyes stinging at such a caring gesture, even after Big Dan had left them without jobs.
He swallowed hard. “Thank you, my friends. For once, I am speechless.”
“More will be returned when word gets out that you’re back. By the way, nice riding in Billings,” said Slim Gomez, the long-term foreman of the Beaumont Ranch.
Luke nodded. “When I’m done getting the house fixed up, we are going to have a barbecue the likes of which Beaumont has never seen.”
Amber let out a little squeal. She must be a woman who liked her barbecue.
Then he noticed that Amber suddenly swayed and was about to fall on some stacked boards probably from the portico. Rusty nails peppered the boards.
Luke caught her. It was as if he was dipping her at the end of a dance. Not that he ever did that, but it was good to know that he could do it!
He stared into her stunning green eyes. They were round with surprise.
“You were going to fall,” he explained, barely breathing. She felt so good in his arms.
“I-I know. You can let me up now. Someone is giving us a wolf whistle outside.”
“Sure.”
He let her up and looked back at the parade of animals in front of him. “Need help?” he asked.
“Uh...no. You can go back to what you were doing.” Florence, who owned nearby Star S, laughed.
Everyone joined in laughing.
“Is that Sergeant Chapman?” Florence asked.
Amber waved to her from a more secure position. “Yes, Flo. It’s Amber.”
“Good for you. Carry on.” Florence gave her two thumbs-up.
Luke noticed that Amber’s face was turning a bright pink.
“Don’t mind them,” Luke said.
She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “Um, I’m not.”
Luke pointed to another group walking up the driveway. “I’d better go help them, Amber. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course. Go ahead and get the animals situated.”
He had so much to do, it got his blood pumping, just like when he rode bulls. He’d always loved ranch work and to be home for a while with a list of improvements and to be surrounded by friends—well, he was going to enjoy every minute.
And it felt so natural to hold Amber in his arms and look deep into her green eyes. If he didn’t know any better, by the way she studied his lips in anticipation, he’d think that she was interested in him.
But he knew better. Amber didn’t have much use for him. In fact, she had to drag him back to Beaumont in order for him to take care of his legacy.
“I’d better buy some feed and hay,” he said, thinking out loud.
Amber checked her watch. “You have to eat, too. How about dinner at the crazy Chapman household in a couple of hours? One of my brothers is picking up barbecue.”
“I’ve been thinking of just that. Thanks. I’d love to.” He jumped from the opening, as if he were a superhero, and was gone.
* * *
LOOKING AROUND, AMBER found a broom in the kitchen pantry and a box of garbage bags. Perfect. She might as well help out while Luke was tending to his stock.
The first thing she was going to do was to change from her uniform. She had workout gear in her car. That’d do.
Then she was going to get rid of the chickens and mice, right the furniture and sweep. The big, thick Mexican tiles needed to be washed several times, but they had to be swept first.
So, what was she doing helping Luke?
She had a feeling that he was overwhelmed. Bringing some of the stock back could have waited until tomorrow, but these were the animals that Big Dan hadn’t sold. He’d just told his workers to help themselves. He probably hadn’t counted on them being taken care of and brought back.
That’s what friends are for.
Amber swept all the trash by the beer cans. Anything with fur or feathers, she scooted out the back door the best she could.
A cat ran into the room and perched itself on top of the couch as if it had done the same thing many times before.
Cautiously, she approached the gray and black cat. It wore a collar and let her pet it, so it wasn’t feral. Her tag showed that her name was Miss Kitty. “Okay, Miss Kitty, clear out the mice, please.”
The cat sat there like a princess, cleaning her paws. “Let’s go, Miss Kitty.”
Nothing.
She abandoned the idea of any help from the cat and went back to sweeping.
All the water-stained pictures she put into a garbage bag with the intention of telling Luke that there was a fabulous