Never Trust A Cowboy

He stepped forward to help, and they fell naturally into the two-person task of taking down sheets and folding them, meeting corner to corner, brushing hand to hand.

“So your dad’s kicking back and letting Brad take over?” Del asked.

“Take over what?”

“The cattle operation. Sounds like your brother’s stepping up.”

“Stepbrother.”

“Stepping on toes, is he?” He surrendered a smooth sheet to her charge. “Kinda feelin’ my way here. You hire on with a family operation, you like to get a feel for the pecking order before you step into the coop. Don’t wanna slip on anything the first day.”

She bent to the laundry basket. “You’ll be on the bottom.”

“And you?”

“I’m not part of the order. There’s no pecking in my coop.”

“Good to know.” He unpinned a stiff towel. “Is the bunkhouse part of the peck-free zone?”

“That’s up to you. Do you have any terrier blood in you?”

He laughed. “I can sure tell you do.”

“Here you go.” She selected a pair of blue towels, started to turn them over but paused for a quick nuzzling. “Mmm. Don’t you just love the smell of air-dried laundry?”

“Mine usually comes from the Laundromat.”

She straightened suddenly, her attention drawn to something just outside the play yard. “Bingo!” She dropped the towels in the basket, ducked under the clothesline and took off toward a mass of conspicuous greenery. “Bingo?”

A telltale hiss prompted Del to follow her. The woman could sure move.

“Lila, back off,” he shouted, and she froze at the edge of the vegetable garden. “Step back real slow. That’s not Bingo.”

The critter sprang a good two feet above an orderly row of bush beans. It was a badger.

“He’s got something cornered,” Del said quietly.

“Bingo!”

He grabbed her from behind, pulled her to his chest and clamped his arms around her. “Good Lord, woman.”

He held her close and still, and they watched the badger disappear and a rattlesnake spring forth. Snake down, badger up, like squeezing a long balloon, alternating ends. It might have looked funny if desperation hadn’t been alternating with brutality.

“Damn. We’re not even on their radar.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Lila whispered, mesmerized by the hopping and hissing. “Good thing Bingo isn’t around. He’d be right in the thick of it.”

“You were close.” And he wasn’t letting her go.

They were close. She turned her head and looked up at him, and for a moment he was as deep into her as the snake was into the badger. Just as surprised. Just as engaged. Her eyes were crystalline, as blue as the sky, and damn if they weren’t almost as big. They had power.

It wasn’t until she turned back to the combatants that he was able to draw breath. He loosened his arms reluctantly but didn’t let go, and she seemed a little reluctant to be let loose. An even match, neither could gain without yielding. It was too late to compromise, too soon to take prisoners.

Too late for a handshake; too soon for a kiss.

“I can’t tell who’s winning,” she whispered.

He chuckled. All things considered, he’d made gains.

“No, really,” she insisted. “Can you?”

“I think they’re both hurtin’. Probably both wishing they’d never met.”

Finally the two animals jumped apart as though someone had blown a whistle, then turned tail and took off in opposite directions.

“What do you s’pose that was all about?”

“Home.” His arms were a little lazy about letting her go. “Some dank hole in the ground. Had to be. They sure as hell weren’t fighting over the same female.”

“As long as it wasn’t about my dog.”

“I didn’t hear either one call out, ‘Bingo!’”

“You’re funny.” Her little smile settled the urge to apologize. “I like that.”

“You really love your dog. I like that.” He grinned. “How about going to supper with me?”

“You’re expected at the other house.”

“That’s what I mean. How about going with me?” He shoved his thumbs into his front pockets. “When I get my first paycheck I’ll take you to the best café in Short Straw.”

“I thought you’d been to Short Straw.”

“I’ve been to Bucky’s Place. Had a sausage-and-egg sandwich there this morning. Fresh out of the microwave.”

“I can make you some lunch.”

“My stomach’s still working on that sandwich. Iron gut chippin’ on a rock.”

“It doesn’t get much better in Short Straw. As for Flynn ranch fare...” She glanced past him, nodded toward the road to the other house. “Here comes your boss. Do you have much experience working cattle?”

“I’m a good hand, yeah.”

“Don’t let Brad get to you. He likes to give orders.”

The red Chevy short box turned off the road and sped across the grass in their direction. Brad leaned out the window. “Hey, Fox, you ready to get to work?”

“Been ready.”

“Hop in and I’ll show you around.” He pulled on the brim of his straw hat. “What’s up, Lila?”

“Have you seen Bingo?”

“What, that old dog? You lost him?”

“I can’t find him.”

“Then he must be dead somewhere. I guarantee you, nobody would steal him.” Brad caught Del’s eye, expecting an ally. “Good for nothing, that dog. Except making a lot of noise.”

“Only when you come around,” Lila said.

“Recognition of the alpha. One thing about dogs, they know their place.” He stroked his scraggly mustache with thumb and forefinger, then grinned, basking in the perfection of his observations. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. If I see hide or hair, you want me to bag it up for you?”

“If you find him, I’d like to have him back. Del’s already searched the right-of-way.”

“Del, huh? Just remember he works for me, Lila.” He watched Del slide into the passenger seat. “Don’t let her boss you around, man. She likes to give orders.”

“Just something to do while I was waiting on the boss.”

Del’s smiling eyes connected with Lila’s as he propped his elbow on the open window and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

Chapter Two

Lila wasn’t taking the new hand seriously. She’d known he was kidding when he asked her to go down to her father’s house with him for supper. She had managed not to look out her kitchen window more than once or twice, checking for signs of life at the bunkhouse. She told herself she was only parking her horse in Dad’s corral now because it was time to check in. She hadn’t seen her father in more than a week, and she was suddenly missing him.

She stuck her socks in her boots and left them in the elaborate mudroom June had added to the plans for the new house, padded through a kitchen filled with the smell of beef and fresh bread—interesting, since she’d never known June to bake bread—past the kitchen table normally used for meals and ventured into the dining room.

“Well, look who’s here,” Brad said. “There’s an empty chair next to me and one beside our new hired hand. Take your pick.”

“Your new hired hand asked me to go to supper with him.” Del almost managed to get out of his seat and pull out the chair before she claimed it herself. Lila tamped down a smile. “So I choose him.”

“You should’ve told me you had a date, Del. We could’ve picked her up.” Brad peered across the table at Lila. “How’d you get here? Don’t tell me you finally decided to put the crazy woman in the closet and get behind the wheel of a car again.”

She eyed him right back. “The horse I rode in on is helping himself to your hay.”

Frank laughed. “My daughter is no crazier than I am, son. I’m taking up bread making. Watched one of them videos and got the recipe off the internet. How’d I do?”

“I knew he’d find it relaxing,” June said. Her red hair looked freshly styled, the color skillfully revived. Dar’s Downhome Dos had done it again. “It’s very good, my darling. And you notice, the baker in the video was a man. The best chefs are men. So it doesn’t surprise me that this bread is delicious. No more store-bought for us.” She flashed Frank a doting smile. “No surprise, he especially enjoyed kneading the dough.”

“What else has he been kneading?” Brad pulled a fake double take. “Never mind. We probably don’t want to go there with our parents. Right, Lila? I mean, we’re eating.”

Once begun, half done, Lila reminded herself.

“He experimented with the dough hooks that came with that new mixer I got him, but that didn’t do it for him. Right, Frank? I’d say mission accomplished, technique perfected. What do you think, Del?”

Del brandished the buttered heel he’d just torn into. “Great bread.”

“There’s more in the kitchen,” Frank said.

“Just for you,” June told Del. “When Brad said he’d hired a new hand, Frank was all about welcoming you with a good meal.”

Frank gestured with the point of his table knife. “If you’re as good as Brad claims, I’d like to keep you around for a while. Guess Thompson took off without saying too much. I never thought much of him, tell you the truth. Brad says he called a guy you worked for, what? Couple of years, right? Said you’re a top hand.” He turned to Brad. “Where’d you say that was? Colorado somewhere?”

“Denver,” Brad said.

“So you came along at the right time. You mind puttin’ up hay?”

“It was a four-month job,” Del said quietly. “This last time. But I’ve worked for Walsh before. And I guess I wouldn’t be much of a ranch hand if I minded putting up hay.”

“I used to hate that part of the business, but nowadays, with the new equipment we’ve got, I can just—”

Brad’s knife clattered to his plate. “I’ll make sure Del has plenty to do, Dad. I drove him around all afternoon, so he knows what he’s in for. He’s like you. Says his cowboy ass ain’t sittin’ on no ATV. Right, Del?”

“Brad fixed me up with a good mount.” Del glanced at Lila, an I’m-on-your-side look in his eyes. “Nice big buckskin.”

“Hombre,” Brad told Frank. “Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Best horse on the place.” Frank grinned. “He should be ridden, and by somebody who knows how.”

Between her father’s grin and the look in the hired hand’s eyes, Lila suddenly took heart.

“Sounds like something I’ve heard before,” Brad said.

“That’s what Rhett Butler said to Scarlett,” June put in.

“Kissed.” Lila attended to buttering her bread. Attention with a secret smile. “He said she should be kissed often.”

“I don’t get to many movies,” Del said. “This Butler, is he a cowboy? You got a horse needs ridin’ or a woman needs kissin’, you find yourself a real cowboy. Ain’t many of us left.”

“Probably just as well,” Lila said. “Hollywood isn’t making many Westerns these days.”

“R-e-a-l,” Del instructed. “Not r-e-e-l. The world is full of actors.”

Lila flashed him a richly deserved smile.

“You like that?” His answering smile lit a true twinkle in his nearly black eyes.

“I do.”

“What’s going on here?” Brad said. “If I didn’t know better...”

“You’d think I was rackin’ up points with the boss’s daughter. But I can already tell she doesn’t give out easy points. I’m just trying to keep up with the conversation.” Del glanced around the table. “Lila and I witnessed a rare sight this morning.” He nodded at her. “You tell it.”

“We watched a fight between a badger and a rattlesnake. They tore up my garden.”

“I thought I tore up your garden,” Brad said.

“You ran over a flower bed.” She took Del’s cue and kept going. “It was amazing. They really kept at it for, I don’t know, five minutes, maybe... They just kept at it.” She turned to Del. “Didn’t they?”

A loaded look accompanied Del’s nod. “Time stood still.”

“In fact...” Damn, he was good-looking. Nearly black hair, chiseled cheekbones, angular jaw and no white-above-the-eyebrows farmer tan on this cowboy’s face. Unless she was mistaken, he’d be head-to-toe brown. Lakota, probably. It took her a moment to turn her attention to her father. “Del caught me before I walked right into the fray.”

“How awful. I hate snakes of any kind.” June gave a tight end-of-story smile. “And I really hope you’ll start joining us for supper regularly, Lila.”

“I didn’t have any kids today. Del helped me look for Bingo. I’ve been searching on horseback, still haven’t found him.” She lifted one shoulder. “So I was...in the neighborhood.”

“I haven’t seen the pup at all lately.” Frank turned to his wife. “Have you? You’ve been out quite a bit getting groceries and whatnot.”

“I thought he always stayed around your yard,” June said, turning to Lila.

Lila nodded. “That’s why—”

“Bingo is the first dog we’ve had around here since Lila left for college,” June explained, apparently for Del’s information. “I’m not a dog person. Kind of allergic.” She turned to Lila. “I think that’s why you decided to move into the old place when you came back, isn’t it?”

“That’s my house,” Lila said.

“I know, but it’s as old as the pyramids, all dark and depressing. We’d like to see more of you. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m not far away, June. You have to drive past my house to get to the highway. We see each other all the time.” Lila welcomed the mental distance that slid over her like a cool cloud. “And your hired hands are always perfectly positioned to keep an eye on me.”

“That happens to be where the bunkhouse is,” Brad said. “The men don’t give you any trouble, do they? You tell me if they do. I never hire anybody without checking him out. And I don’t tell them to keep an eye on you.” He turned to Del. “I never told you to spy on her, did I?”

Del shook his head. “This was a fine meal.” He tucked his napkin under the edge of his plate and slid his chair back from the table. “It’s been a long time since I had any homemade bread. Sure was good.”

“Now, listen, you tell her I never said anything about—”

Del chuckled. “In my line of work you quickly learn when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em. Hold your tongue, fold your napkin and leave the table.” Which he did, all but the tongue-holding part. His calm, cool parting shot was aimed at Brad. “I can handle most any chore, but spyin’ ain’t one of ’em.” He nodded at June. “Thank you, ma’am.”

* * *

Lila found Del in the barn currying the buckskin. He’d had time to saddle up after making that break for it, killing the time she’d allowed to pass before she left the house. Nothing further had been said on the subject after he left. Maybe they all felt ridiculous. Keep an eye on her. If Brad had asked—and she had her doubts about that—Del would have refused. She’d only been around him for a few hours, but she’d learned a lot, and she had no doubt he would have said no.

“So that was awkward, huh?” She ducked under one of the cross ties and scratched Hombre’s throatlatch. “I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Whatever that was about, it’s for you guys to deal with.”

“But we put you in an uncomfortable spot, and I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. It had nothing to do with me.” He glanced at her. “Unless you think otherwise?”

“I don’t. I know you wouldn’t go along with anything like that.” She smiled. “I realize we just met, but I’m a pretty good judge of character. Brad can’t push you into doing anything you don’t want to. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“I’m here to work, and I’ve been at this kind of work long enough to know when to excuse myself from the table.” He ran his hand down the horse’s back and patted his rump. “I’m the one who owes an apology. I asked you to come with me for supper, and then I didn’t show up.”

“You were working.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. Should’ve taken my own pickup instead of getting in with Brad. But now that I’ve got this guy...” He lifted a familiar black saddle onto the buckskin’s back. “Brad didn’t tell me he was Frank’s. You think he minds?”

“I think he’s glad to have you ride him.”

“Is he a good judge of character, too?”

“Sometimes. He’s already taken a shine to you.”

“So...” He gave the saddle cinch a firm tug. “Would you like some company on the ride back to your ancient digs?”

She smiled. “Would you like a tour of the ruins when we get there?”

“You got any mummies?”

“I had one, but she died when I was twelve. Now I just have a stepmummy.” She gave a shy smile. She knew she was being too cute by half. She was far afield of her comfort zone. “You?”

“Mine’s dead, too. So’s my dad. Been a while, so, uh...” He lowered the stirrup. “We should cover new ground on the way back. I didn’t get much chance to look close, flying around the pasture in Brad’s pickup—hey, that man sure has a lead foot—but I tried to be on the lookout. You know, for...any kind of sign.”

“See what I mean? You’re obviously a nice man.”

“You want me to throw a saddle on that pretty black?”

“I pull out my own chair and saddle my own horse.” She smiled. “But thanks for the thought.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He touched his hat brim. “Always thinking.”

* * *

The sun hovered above the sawtooth horizon and the air was still, leaving the horses to stir the grass and offering the crickets a quiet setting for their serenade. Lila had covered the side of the road before supper, so they took the south side, zigzagging separately, cutting across a wide swath. She knew the odds of finding anything weren’t great, but every search was a chance, and she wouldn’t rest until she knew for sure. She’d adopted Bingo from a shelter in Rapid City, and he’d seen her through some lonely times.

“Was he sick or anything?”

Lila looked up and saw Del staring at something on the ground. His dismount was as fluid as any she’d ever seen. Reins in hand, he squatted on his heels, picked something up and sniffed it.

“C’mon, Jackpot.” She trotted her horse in his direction. “Anything?”

“Too old.” He stood up and tossed his discovery. “A piece of something hairy, but all dried up.”

“Why do I have a feeling you haven’t always been a cowboy?”

“I don’t know.” He used the horn as a fulcrum and swung back into the saddle without benefit of a stirrup. Grinning like the boy who’d taken a run and jumped all the way over the creek, he adjusted his hat. “Maybe I started out as a trick rider.”

She narrowed her eyes, considering, and shook her head. “What else you got?”

“I like to work my way up, one surprise at a time. Keeps ’em guessing.” He braced his forearm over the horn and took a turn studying her. “Where’d you go to college?”

“Minneapolis.” He’d started moving. She nudged her gelding to catch up. “Were you ever a cop?”

He gave her an incredulous look, caught himself and laughed. “How did you come up with that?”

“The way you examined the evidence.”

“Too many detective movies and not enough Westerns, college girl. What did you study?”

“Art history, music, British history, literature—”

He whistled appreciatively.

“—business, library science.”

“That’s a lot of studying.”

“I didn’t quite finish,” she said quietly.

A meadowlark answered Del’s whistle.

“I’m listening,” he prompted after a moment had passed.

“I had a bad car accident.”

He let the words have their due. The grass swished, crickets buzzed, the sun settled on the sharp point of a hill.

“Hurt bad?”

“I wasn’t. The person I hit... She was.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t drive anymore.”

“Not at all?”

“Not at all.”

More grass sound filled in.

“She okay now?”

“Were you ever a reporter?” she retorted stiffly.

He said nothing. He’d gone one step too far. Game over.

“Put it this way,” she amended. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who usually asks a lot of questions.”

“I’m not the kind who’d strike you at all. I’m the kind who’d do his job, tip his hat when you walk past him and keep his thoughts to himself.”

“Sounds like we’re two of a kind. Or were, until you took an interest in helping me find my dog.”

“You’d do the same, right? It’s all about the dog.”

“We were talking about ancient history before,” she reminded him. “Mummies and all like that. Been a while, you said. For me, too. And the passage of time helps. I know it does. It takes the edge off regrets, shuts down the what-ifs.” They were riding slowly now, the search all but set aside. “She recovered, but it took a long time, and it changed her life. Don’t ask me how it happened. It doesn’t matter.”

He nodded.

She knew she didn’t have to tell him not to discuss it with anyone. It wouldn’t kill her if he did, but somehow she knew he wouldn’t. They had things in common, spoken and unspoken things. What things they were didn’t matter as much as how they felt about them. They could move on without exchanging details.

“I have to find Bingo, no matter what. I have to bring him home.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“You’ll know him when you see him. He’s the only little black terrier around. This isn’t exactly terrier country.”

“What’s the cell phone reception like around here?”

“Terrible. You have to go up on a hill, and even then it’s hit or miss. You’re welcome to use my old reliable landline anytime.”

“I was thinking if I find the dog and he won’t come to me...”

“He loves cheese.” She tucked her hand in her back pocket, pulled out a chunk of it wrapped in brown paper and reached between horses to hand it to him. “He won’t care if it’s a little squashed.”

“Funny dog.”

She smiled. “You two will hit it off just fine.”

* * *

At breakfast the next morning Del was assigned his first official chore. No surprise, he was to ride the fence and check for breaks.

“Neighbor called and told Dad there’s been cattle disappearing again. I’m gonna head down to the south pasture and start counting.”

“If I find anything, you want me to fix it right away?” Since he knew where to look, he was going to help himself to a second cup of coffee. He gestured with the pot, and Frank offered up his cup for a refill.

“Well, yeah,” Brad said. “That’s one job you can be sure gets delegated.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“If we’re missing cows and we don’t find them, we’ll let the sheriff in on all the details.”

Frank took no notice. Either he didn’t hear, didn’t want to hear or his agreement went without saying. In any case, nobody was too concerned about preserving a possible crime scene.

Del took his time riding the fence along the dirt road that separated two Flynn Ranch pastures. He knew he would find the wire down less than a mile off the blacktop, but along the way there was a chance he might run across Lila’s dog. He found himself hoping otherwise. This far from the house, it was bound to be a sad discovery.

A faint set of tire tracks in the dry ground led to the hole in the fence. Three loose strands of barbed wire curled away from the steel post in three different directions. A qualified lawman would be able to get a clue or two, and fixing the fence wouldn’t make too much difference. But it would make some. Not to Del, of course. He’d been a witness. Now he had to figure out where Frank fit in, and he knew better than to ask questions he didn’t know the answers to.

He fixed the wire, and then he followed the fence line until it took a right turn at the highway. There he saw the grass stir. It could’ve been a snake or a grouse, but it wasn’t. He knew before he reached the spot that he’d found the little black dog.

Not quite what he’d expected, but it was small and male and black. Who else could it be? And he was alive, which was a whole lot better news than he’d expected. Del whistled. The paper crinkled as he unveiled the chunk of cheddar.

“Got some cheese for you, Bingo. Come and get it, boy.” He sank to his knees, and the pup bounded through the grass and pounced on the cheese. Del’s left knee cracked in protest as he stood with his arms full of wiggly, scrawny, finger-licking dog. “I thought you’d be fuzzier. How’d you get this far from home on such short legs, huh?” The dog seemed a little young, but maybe that was because he was scared and hungry. He rooted around Del’s shirt, struggled to get his nose in Del’s scratching hand. “That’s all I’ve got, boy, sorry. We’ll go get you some more. Lila sure is gonna be happy to see you.”