Austin: Second Chance Cowboy

She could have cursed her tongue. Now he was probably going to ask why she’d even brought up the other women. And then she was going to have to admit that she hadn’t been able to get the picture of Austin hugging Vanessa out of her mind.

But since she’d started, she continued on. “I’m just saying there’s more to me than just being a good-time girl with a lot of great hair.”

“Hey, now. Hair?”

“I’m just saying that Vanessa sure has a lot of hair for being a nurse in a medical practice.”

He sat up straighter. “Wait a minute. You’re talking about Vanessa Anderson?”

“Yes, though I bet you know plenty of Vanessas.” Now that it was all out in the open, she felt worse than catty. But how could she backtrack without seeming like more of a fool? “You know what I’m talking about, Austin,” she said with a whole lot of bravado. “Vanessa must have more hair spray in that head of hair of hers than Miss Texas.”

He scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with her hairdo. She’s got pretty hair.” She knew that. That was the problem. “And, she’s got a good brain and a good heart, too. She’s a nurse, Dinah. And she’s married!”

“She’s a real pretty nurse. So, did she check you out?”

Stuffing the remainder of his sandwich in his plastic grocery sack, he glared hard at her. “Jeez, Dinah. I never thought you were the type of person who went around stereotyping others. Especially not other women, and especially not on a whim, just to be mean.”

Did Austin Wright just say whim? “I don’t stereotype.”

He got to his feet. “I think you must. You’re talking about Van like she’s got nothing for nothing just because she’s a beautiful woman who’s embraced her share of the Walmart beauty aisle.”

“I saw you hugging her.” Even as the words spewed out of her mouth, she felt ten times as foolish. And suspiciously like a stalker.

“I was thanking her.”

“For giving you a shot?” The moment her question left her mouth, she ached to take it back.

“I was thanking her for a lot of things, not that it’s any of your business.”

Dinah folded her arms over her chest. “I bet everything between you two was all business, all right.”

“You don’t know a thing.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he chose his words. “I think you’re a real fine policewoman, Dinah, but at the moment, I’m thinking you’ve got a real prejudice toward me. And for the record, I just want to say that I’m plumb tired of it.”

His words, and the unspoken hurt that lay behind them, made her cheeks flush. “I don’t—”

“I think you’ve gone out of your way to give me more than a wide berth because of who my father is. And because of our past.”

She felt more than a little sucker punched. “That’s not true. I went over to your place for dinner on Saturday night.”

“You know that was a fluke. Usually you avoid me like the plague.”

“I—I don’t…” she sputtered. It was a whole lot easier to call him a liar than to admit he was right.

“I think it might be truer than you want to admit.”

Because she had eagerly hoisted an empty brain on Vanessa so she wouldn’t have to look at her own insecurities, Dinah fended off his words by holding up her sandwich. “I don’t think there’s a reason in the world for us to continue this conversation. To make it easy for you, I’m going to stay right here and eat this while you move on.”

Looking down at her, his too-handsome features were marred as he scowled. “Don’t worry, Sheriff Hart. I won’t make a point of sharing a bench with you anytime soon.”

Wisely, she kept her mouth shut as he sauntered off. But boy, howdy! What was it with him and her reaction to him? All he had to do was be within breathing distance and she turned into some kind of high-strung, nagging witch who made petty comments about other girls in town.

That definitely wasn’t her.

Gazing at her sandwich, she did what she usually did best. She analyzed things. Maybe her problems with Austin stemmed from the memories he triggered?

His wild ways made her remember too much. The way she used to run around without half a care in the world and a chip on her shoulder. She’d made mistakes, some in an inebriated fog that had made it almost impossible to recall them in detail.

Now when she looked at Austin or heard about his escapades, it brought back all those memories. Including the way she’d once plastered herself to him in a kiss that was so hot it could have set their clothes on fire. Even the memory of it made her ache with embarrassment all over again.

Now so glad she hadn’t eaten more than she did, she wadded up her napkin and she tried that excuse on for size. Was that really the root of her problem? Austin merely brought back memories?

Chewing, she thought about it some more and tried to convince herself of that fact.

And then realized that while a person could fool a lot of people some of the time, it was near impossible to fool yourself.

Not more than once, anyway. Tossing the rest of her sandwich in the trash, she stomped to her office, checked her emails, then two hours later got into her cruiser and headed back over to the high school.

When they visited before, she’d been pleased to realize that Mrs. Marks had been willing to accept Dinah’s suggestions for getting some of the kids back on track. They’d both agreed that getting to know the kids better was key, so she was going to visit a couple of classrooms.

Dinah had a feeling getting the kids to trust her was going to be something of a challenge. After all, when she had been in high school, the last thing in the world she would’ve wanted to do was visit with a sheriff.

Suddenly, she remembered what Flynn had said about those puppies of Angie’s. Picking up her cell, she called Angie and asked if she could borrow a couple of the stray pups for a few hours.

She could use the puppies as a reason to talk to the kids. Talk to them about the dangers of dropping off stray animals.

A lot of people would go out of their way to avoid the sheriff. But a pair of cute, cuddly puppies?

Now, that was a whole other story.

Chapter Six

His first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting was in a smallish Sunday school classroom in the back of the church. Austin strode in with five minutes to spare and feeling more nervous than the moment when the chute flew open and he was sitting bareback on a horse with an attitude.

Could he do this? Everything inside of him was screaming no, he could not. But his head seemed to be in control for once and kept him firmly in tow. The entrance area was empty. The only sign of recent life was a neat rectangular-shaped whiteboard. On it, the daily schedule listed a whole slew of meetings and coordinating rooms.

Nowhere could he find a listing for the AA meeting.

Flummoxed, he pulled the sheet of paper where he’d written the meeting’s date, time and place. Yep, he was in the right place at the right time on the right day.

Deciding to go another route, he glanced at the times. At seven o’clock, there was a meeting for Friends of Bill W. in Room 11. Vaguely he recalled hearing that was the code for the meeting.

Seeing shadows approaching on the sidewalk, he knew it was time to make a move. He could either walk down to the meeting, or he could make up a bunch of lies to the people who entered, and to himself. He’d definitely lied about his goals and intents before.

But then he remembered Dinah and the way she’d trotted off in a huff. He recalled the disdain he was sure he’d spotted in her holier-than-thou hazel eyes.

Finally he remembered that he’d woken up not too long ago with a phone call from a woman he didn’t recall talking about events he didn’t remember. If he didn’t change his ways soon, he knew there was a good chance that the next phone call he got wasn’t going to be as kind, and that the events were going to be a lot different than being rowdy and disgusting at a local bar.

That fear was enough to propel him down the hall. Door 11 was open and there were seven or eight men and women either talking or sitting quietly. He paused at the doorway, suddenly feeling as if he was back in Sunday school.

A man a good ten years older than him looked his way and paused. “Hi. I’m Alan. Are you here for our meeting?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” He lowered his voice. “I’m here for an AA meeting?” Oh, he hated how he sounded. Like a squeaky, nervous kid.

The way he sounded years ago when he and Cheyenne went to visit his dad in prison.

But if Alan thought he was a weak-willed wuss, he didn’t act like it. Instead he nodded in a relaxed, easygoing way. As though Austin had asked if he thought it might rain. “You’re in the right spot. First meeting?”

“Yep.” As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’m glad you came. You made the right decision.”

Gathering more courage than it had ever taken him to climb on the back of a temperamental bronc, he said, “We’ll see about that.” Already he was thinking about exiting out of there quickly.

“No one’s going to make you say a word.” Alan smiled encouragingly. “But you can talk if you want to.”

“I think I’ll just do the watch-and-listen thing.”

“Good enough.” He stepped backward and let Austin walk on in.

He hesitated, then continued forward. Hoping all the while that he would learn the secret to sobriety. ’Cause he was already so nervous, his mouth was near parched. And the only thing that sounded as if it could quench his thirst involved Kentucky Bourbon.

There were chairs set up in a circle. Too ashamed to see anyone he knew, he took a chair in the middle of three empty ones, then immediately regretted his decision. Did sitting by himself make him stand out even more?

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