Duke: Deputy Cowboy

“Speaking of Tuf... Susie Reynolds asked about him. I pled ignorance because I know Ace thinks he’s shirking. Really, what is up with Tuf?”

“I can’t imagine why he got out of the Corps and hasn’t come home. Mom said he told her he needs time. She’s okay with it. But it irritates Ace.”

“Maybe Tuf does need time. We can’t begin to understand the hell he’s been through.”

“You mean, maybe he’s injured and doesn’t want us to see him like that?”

“Your mom wouldn’t be okay with that. I mean the expectations of this family can be overwhelming. Maybe Tuf needs breathing room.”

Dinah looked unhappy. “If he can’t breathe on four thousand acres in the middle of Big Sky Country, he can’t breathe anywhere.”

“Pardon me for saying so, Dinah, but your attitude is a bit of what I mean about family expectations. Tuf may not be up to everyone demanding a piece of him.”

“We love him. He’d be better off decompressing with us. He should know that.”

Duke left it at that, and each fell silent until the phone on Dinah’s desk rang. “Sheriff Hart,” she answered briskly, then grabbed a pad and scribbled on it.

“What’s shaking?” Duke asked when she hung up and left her chair all in one motion.

“A car went into the ditch on the approach to the covered bridge. No injuries. I can handle this alone if you want to finish the flyer and start the blog we discussed.”

“Should I call for a wrecker?”

“Let’s wait and see if I can pull the car back on the road with the front winch on my patrol SUV.”

“Okay. If you’re not back by the time I have the flyer done, I’ll lock the office and start tacking them up. I may run some out to the two auction barns east of town while I’m at it, and finish up the other half of town in the morning.”

“It’s a plan. When you send Colt and Beau copies on their iPhones, ask them to print off flyers and pass them around as they travel home.”

“Will do. The thieves aren’t dumb enough to try and sell Midnight locally. Frankly I wish they were stupid.”

Being a perfectionist, it took Duke longer to set up a flyer than it should have. He agonized over writing the blog because he didn’t want it too wordy. But he also didn’t want it to be boring.

Dinah checked in once to say she wasn’t able to winch the out-of-towner’s van out of the ditch. It had broken an axle. “The driver tells me a feed truck passed him too close and forced him off the road. I’m trying to figure out who’s at fault. We have a gazillion ranchers hauling grain this month,” she said. “No one in the van got a license plate number.”

“That would make your job too easy,” Duke teased. “That’s why Roundup pays you the big bucks.”

She gave a snort and disconnected. Duke decided he needed a break from the computer and stepped outside to get some air. Zorro had been cooped up with him all morning. He needed the bushes planted between buildings.

Glancing up as he stood waiting for Zorro to do his business, Duke was surprised to see his dad emerge from the Number 1 Diner. “Hey, Pop,” he called.

Josh ambled over to join him.

“It’s unusual to see you in town this time of day. Is everything all right with Aunt Sarah and the ranch?”

“I ordered pipe fittings for the irrigation system. They came in, and Sarah asked me to pick up a few things at the store. I wondered if you or Dinah were in the office. I planned to stop by before heading home. Any updates on the robberies?”

“No. Dinah is out on a call. I put out an internet flyer on the horse. And I printed some off to post around town. I came out to take a break from writing a blog to send out to online trade magazines.”

“That stuff is all Greek to me.”

Zorro loped to the curb where the men stood. The arrival of a bus that came through once a week forced them to step back to keep from being in the way of the pneumatic door when it opened.

Zorro’s ears perked and he growled low in his throat. At first Duke thought it was the hiss of the door upsetting his pet, but then he saw the driver assisting a slender woman with short, silvery-gray hair down the steps. Along with her wheeling suitcase, she held the handle on a harnessed service dog. The woman thanked the driver and asked a question in too soft a voice for Duke to hear.

Josh seemed rattled by the incident, and he wore a funny look as he watched the woman and dog cross the street to where they entered the diner.

“Do you know that blind woman, Pop?”

“A long time ago,” his dad murmured, appearing totally distracted. “I need to go, Duke. Let Sarah or Ace or me know if you get any leads on Midnight,” he said as he rushed off. He recrossed the street behind the bus as it pulled out in a cloud of exhaust.

Duke wound his fingers in Zorro’s collar because he strained at his leash. It was more than odd to see his dad hurry back into the diner he’d left moments ago. If his dad intended to run after the woman, it was even stranger. In all the years their dad had been single, Duke had never known him to look twice at any available women his age in town. Duke assumed he was a one-woman man who never got over losing their mother. In fact, he liked that idea.

Slightly off-kilter himself, Duke went back inside the office and sat down to finish his project. But his mind kept revisiting his dad’s behavior. By the time he sent the piece off, he began to think about what surely must have been a lonely existence for a man raising twin sons alone. His thoughts leapfrogged back to Angie Barrington. Numerous times during the day she’d invaded his thoughts for no reason. He shut down the computer and put a stack of flyers in a manila folder.

Well, he did have reason to think of her. He’d promised to see if he could find a Wild Pony Race team for her son. And depending on the route he took to pass out his flyers, one direction would take him right by Gary and Pam Marshall’s ranch. Dinah’s suggestion to ask about their twins was more viable than any he’d come up with.

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