The Lawman Read online

  His hands clenched at his sides and his breathing quickened. “My God, you test a man’s control.” His look burned as it swept over her, as if making an unspoken promise that the fire raging between them would be dealt with soon. “Go on back. I’ll follow in a minute.”

  Leigh did as he suggested, not because she was willing to comply with his orders, but because, at the moment, a little boy’s needs were more important than her own.

  When she reached the ranch house, an unfamiliar BMW sat in the parking area outside the low adobe wall. She hurried down the flagstone walk, her instincts on red alert. Opening the front door, she found Kyle and Belinda standing with a chunky man, whose silk tie looked uncomfortably tight around the collar of his white dress shirt. He wore glasses and was beginning to grow bald. But the most important thing about him was the way he rested his hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

  Belinda glanced at Leigh. Her expression was distraught, but she maintained her poise and spoke with her usual pleasant manner. “This is Emerson J. Pope, Kyle’s stepfather,” she said, confirming what Leigh had suspected. “Mr. Pope, this is Leigh Singleton, our head wrangler.”

  Pope turned, but he didn’t offer her his hand. “Kyle called his mother yesterday,” he said. “His stories of rampaging bulls and flash floods made her hysterical with worry. We’re convinced this isn’t a safe environment for the boy. I’ve come to take him home.”

  10

  JOE LEANED his backside against the picnic table with a sigh. Folding his arms, he studied the damp, sandy ground at his feet. Leigh was so tuned in to him that he’d have to be very careful. She wanted to help him with the investigation. This could be her way of leading him to the person she’d hired and ending the destruction without implicating herself. Maybe she was in league with Eb Whitlock. He hated to think it, but he had to stay objective, despite the way she heated his blood. Even despite her good intentions with Kyle.

  He now believed she really wanted to help him connect with his son. So, Kyle thought he hated him. Funny, Joe had figured it the other way around. He thought Kyle didn’t have much use for his rough, crude father, the fish killer. Every move Joe had made seemed to be the wrong one, so he’d relegated himself to the role of bad guy, the unpopular person destined to teach Kyle about reality. But he didn’t want Kyle to think he hated him. He loved the little guy, Spock ears and all. Yet he’d never said so, never felt comfortable with stating his feelings straight out like that. And gushing about love wouldn’t help the kid toughen up, which he desperately needed to do if he was to survive.

  Joe started up the path and thought about what he could say to Kyle that would convince the boy he didn’t hate him. Maybe he could tell him how proud he’d been that Kyle had fended for himself while his dad had been busy with the investigation. That would reinforce self-reliance. Joe could admire the adobe blocks Kyle had made and compliment him on picking up a new skill, which conveyed another good message.

  As he reached the ranch house, he felt better about the coming conversation with Kyle. At least he had a plan. He noticed the relatively clean BMW sitting outside the adobe wall and wondered who had driven in from town. Most of the people in the area had pickup trucks, and with all the rain that had fallen recently, the fenders were usually crusted with mud.

  Striding down the walk, he went over what he would say to Kyle. He wouldn’t make fun of the stick-and-string fishing pole. Leigh had been right about that. Better to keep away from the subject of fishing altogether. He opened the front door and started inside. Then suddenly, he stopped, one hand still on the door handle, and stared at Emerson J. Pope.

  Pope stared back.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Joe bellowed.

  “You weren’t entirely candid about conditions out at this ranch, were you, Joe?” Pope said. “Hardly a place for a small boy, wouldn’t you say?”

  Joe’s gaze shot from Pope to Leigh, who looked upset, to Belinda, who looked grief stricken, to Kyle, who looked cowed. “What do you mean, conditions?” he asked, turning back to Pope. “Talk like a normal human being, if that’s possible.”

  Pope’s cheek twitched, a tic that had caused him some problems in the courtroom, Joe happened to know. Joe had liked nothing better than quizzing cops who had testified at trials where Pope had been the lawyer for the defense. Especially trials where Pope lost. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen often enough to suit Joe.

  “I’m referring to the bull incident,” Pope said. “As if that weren’t bad enough, you took the child into the middle of a lethal flash flood. Darlene instructed me to bring him back to New York. I’m prepared to get a court order, if necessary.”

  “You son of a—” Joe remembered Kyle and censored his language. “Is that what Kyle wants?”

  “I’m not prepared to let a seven-year-old make that sort of decision. He’s coming with me.”

  “Not if he doesn’t want to, he’s not.”

  “Look, Gilardini, don’t make me use the power of the courts. I—”

  The front door swung open and Freddy burst into the room. “Leigh! I called from the corrals earlier but you weren’t here, so I drove up—” She noticed a stranger in the room and paused.

  “This is Kyle’s stepfather, Emerson J. Pope,” Leigh said. “Why did you want me?”

  “Penny Lover’s showing all the signs. Since it’s her first foal, I know it could be a while, but I think you’d better get down there. Duane’s with her now.”

  Kyle broke free of his stepfather’s grip and rushed toward Freddy. “Penny Lover’s going to have her baby?”

  Freddy grinned. “I think so. Want to watch?”

  “Boy, do I!”

  Pope cleared his throat. “I have return plane reservations for both of us in three hours. That leaves just enough time for Kyle to pack and for me to return the rental car. He won’t be able to go with you to the stables, or whatever you’re talking about.”

  “No!” Kyle whirled toward his stepfather. “I have to stay, Em! Penny Lover’s going to have her baby.”

  Joe stepped closer to Pope. “He’s staying.”

  Pope adjusted his glasses. “I’m afraid not. I promised Darlene that—”

  Leigh edged her way between the two men. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t you stay at the True Love tonight as our guest, Mr. Pope? I’m sure you can change your plane reservations, and Kyle’s mother can’t possibly be worried about him now that you’re on the scene. Kyle has been waiting for this foal to be born, and I hardly think you want to deprive him of an educational experience I’m sure you couldn’t duplicate in New York City. You’re welcome to come down to the corrals, yourself, if you like.”

  Joe watched with interest as Leigh turned up her compelling gaze to full wattage. Joe knew well the effect of that wise serenity.

  Pope squirmed and finally looked away. “I—ah—see your point. The boy is very bright—gifted, in fact. Darlene’s family is very intelligent. She’s always trying to expose Kyle to new experiences, challenge his intellectual capacity. Let me call her and discuss the situation.”

  “Leigh,” Freddy said, urgency in her voice. “We have to go.”

  Leigh gave a slight nod and returned her attention to Pope. “By all means, call her. Belinda can reach us down at the corrals if your wife still insists that you and Kyle be on that plane tonight, but I have a hunch she won’t.” She put out her hand to Kyle. “Let’s go.”

  Kyle took it and looked up at Joe. “Are you coming, Dad?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Joe fell into step beside Kyle as Freddy led the way out the door. Behind them, Belinda directed Pope to the phone.

  When they were all safely headed down the walk toward Freddy’s truck, Joe glanced over at Leigh. “That was one of the slickest things I’ve ever seen.”

  Leigh just smiled, but Freddy laughed outright. “You don’t want to get into a verbal contest with my sister.”

  “But that guy’s a trial lawyer!” Joe said.
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br />   “But Leigh read his mind,” Kyle said. “Didn’t you, Leigh? That’s how you knew what to say.”

  Leigh flicked a glance at Joe before smiling down at Kyle. “I could see that your stepfather really had your best interests at heart, so I simply pointed out that in this case, it would be in your best interests to stay and watch Penny Lover give birth. It’s true, after all.”

  “It sure is!” Kyle said, almost skipping along beside her.

  “Somebody’s going to have to ride in the back of the truck,” Freddy said. “All four of us can’t squeeze into the seat.”

  “I’ll ride in back,” Joe volunteered.

  “Me, too!” Kyle said.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Joe said. “I don’t want your stepfather taking a look outside and discovering I allowed you to ride in the back of a pickup. He has enough charges racked up against me already. I wonder how he found out about the flood and the bull?”

  Kyle looked miserable, but he squared his shoulders and faced his father. “I called and told Mom. It’s my fault, Dad. All this is my fault.”

  Joe met the admission with a swell of pride. “It took guts to tell me that, Kyle. Congratulations.”

  “Then you’re not mad at me?”

  “Of course not.” He gave Kyle’s hat a tug. “Now get in the truck. We have business down at the corrals.”

  Leigh held the door as Kyle clambered into Freddy’s muddy white truck. Just before she got in, she glanced back at Joe. Her smile was bright enough to light the universe. Or at least his corner of it. He grinned back and vaulted into the truck bed. He’d never met a woman to equal Leigh Singleton.

  * * *

  TWO HOURS LATER, quite a festive group had gathered around Penny Lover’s corral as the mare took her time about going into labor. Joe stood leaning against the fence with Ry and Duane while Duane told stories of previous births and Ry kept wondering aloud if he ought to send somebody into town for cigars. For the moment, Kyle sat on the top rail right next to Joe’s shoulder. He alternated between that perch and standing between Freddy and Leigh while the two women stroked and crooned to the expectant mare.

  The other hands kept dropping by the corral to check on Penny Lover’s progress. Joe’s three days of familiarizing himself with everything about the ranch had included learning their names. Curtis was the tall blonde; the guy with the big belly and mustache was Davis; and everyone called the earnest young kid with freckles Rusty.

  They all seemed to have adopted Kyle. Curtis and Davis even coaxed Kyle over to pet Romeo in his pen behind the tack shed.

  “He’s pretty nice, really,” Kyle confided to Joe afterward.

  Ry had arrived about an hour ago, bringing with him a message from Emerson J. Pope. He and Kyle’s mother had decided Kyle could remain another night and witness the birth of the foal. Pope had decided to stay at a resort closer to town, where he could get what he termed “a decent meal.” Joe was determined to make the most of this reprieve.

  Duane bit off a chaw of tobacco and tucked it under his lip. “Any of you city fellers ever seen anythin’ born?”

  “Nope,” Ry said. “This will be good practice for when Freddy has a baby.”

  Freddy looked over her shoulder at him. “Does that mean you expect me to give birth in the middle of a corral?”

  Ry nudged back his hat and winked at her. “Sure would save a pile of money, sweetheart.”

  The hands all laughed, and Joe grinned, shaking his head at his partner. He’d bet Ry and Freddy would be trading barbs on their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

  “I’ve never seen anything born,” Kyle said. “Have you, Dad?”

  “Yep.” Joe poked Kyle gently in the middle of his chest. “You.”

  “You did? I didn’t know that.”

  “Best day of my life,” Joe said.

  “It was?” Kyle’s eyes shone with eagerness. “What did I look like?”

  “A bright red monkey.”

  “Dad.”

  “A handsome bright red monkey.” And I was so happy, I cried when the doctor handed you to me. But this wasn’t the time or place to say that. Joe wasn’t sure if there was a good time to admit something so personal. Even Darlene hadn’t noticed, because he’d turned away before she could see the tears streaming down his face, the tears that had dripped onto that screaming, bloody, fantastic miracle of life that was his son.

  Leigh left her charge for a moment and walked over to the fence where Kyle was sitting. “I’m not sure when things will get started around here,” she said, her eyes encompassing both father and son. “Maybe you’d like to go back up to the house and have something to eat.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” Kyle said. “I might miss it.”

  “I could go and get Belinda to pack us a picnic or something,” Joe offered.

  “That’s a thought.” She stood in the glow from the setting sun, surrounded by light the color of ripe peaches. Joe had never wanted to kiss someone so much in his life.

  “I tell you what we’re gonna do,” Duane said. He paused to spit on the ground. “Penny Lover would prob’ly appreciate it if we’d move a little distance away and give her a chance to concentrate. We got that fire pit over by the bunkhouse and some mesquite stacked up near it. I say let’s have us a barbecue while we’re waitin’ for this baby to get born.”

  “Yeah!” Kyle said. “That would be great!”

  “Wonderful idea,” Leigh said with a smile. “An old-fashioned cowboy camp fire.”

  “I’ll go start the fire,” Duane said, sauntering off.

  “And I’ll run up to the house and get the steaks and the beans,” Ry offered, heading for Freddy’s pickup.

  “This will be fun.” Leigh turned to the cowhand named Davis. “How about fetching your guitar?”

  Davis hoisted his belt over his large belly. “I can do that.”

  “Do you know any Lionel Richie songs? My mare is partial to Penny Lover.”

  Davis looked offended. “Lionel Richie is not a country singer, ma’am.”

  “Just thought I’d ask,” Leigh said with a chuckle.

  By the time the sunlight faded from the sky, everyone except Leigh and Freddy were gathered around the fire. Ry slapped a few steaks on a huge metal grate and Duane stirred beans in a cast-iron pot. Beer and soda cans were passed around, and fat chunks of wood were pulled around the camp fire for seats. Joe remained standing next to Ry while he nursed a beer and kept an eye on the corral. And on Leigh, he admitted to himself.

  Freddy walked over, looped an affectionate arm around Ry’s waist and tucked her hand in his back pocket. “Leigh suggested we take fifteen-minute shifts watching Penny Lover. She’s on the first watch, and Duane will be the second. I think Penny Lover did need a little more privacy than we were giving her. She seems much calmer now.”

  “I’ll take a shift,” Kyle volunteered.

  “Maybe you’d like to come along on my shift,” Freddy suggested. “I’m after Duane.”

  “Sure!” Kyle said happily. “You know what this is like, with everybody together? The crew of the Enterprise.”

  Freddy smiled. “I guess it is, at that. And our mission tonight is to bring a foal into the world.”

  Joe silently blessed her for agreeing with Kyle so easily. “Can I get you something to drink, Freddy?” he asked.

  “A ginger ale would be great, thanks.” She smiled at him, but there was a wariness in her eyes. She obviously hadn’t forgotten that he considered her a suspect in the sabotage case.

  Walking over to the ice chest to get Freddy’s soda, he wished he could forget all the lessons he’d learned in his twenty years of being a cop. But perpetrators of crimes were seldom complete strangers, and this case had all the earmarks of an inside job. Yet, as he walked back into the firelit circle and looked around, it seemed impossible that anyone sitting there sharing a meal and swapping stories could be guilty of stampeding herds, setting brushfires and dynamiting dams.

  Duane walked
over and helped himself to some more beans from the pot. “Ain’t this like old times, Freddy?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is,” she agreed. “A scene like this would have made Thaddeus and Clara Singleton proud, after all the things they went through a hundred years ago to keep this place going.”

  “What things?” Kyle asked with his mouth full.

  “The Apache Indians tried to wipe them out once,” Freddy said.

  “Really?” Kyle’s eyes grew wide.

  “And then, there was a summer when it didn’t rain much, and most of their herd died. There were some terrible dust storms, too.”

  “How do you know?” Kyle asked.

  “Lots of people kept diaries in those days,” Freddy told him. “Leigh and I have Clara’s, and another one written by Clara’s daughter-in-law, Ellie. After that generation, we don’t have as much—a few letters, some scrapbooks.”

  Kyle chewed thoughtfully. “I’d like to see them.”

  “I’ll show them to you tomorrow,” Freddy promised. “Hey, Davis, how about a song?”

  “You bet.” The paunchy cowboy strummed a few experimental chords on his guitar and began “The Streets of Laredo.” Curtis and Rusty joined in, and Duane sang along until he had to leave for his shift with Penny Lover.

  By the time Leigh arrived in the circle, Davis had switched to “Red River, Valley,” a song about a woman who was leaving the valley and taking the sunshine with her. Joe thought of what this valley would be like with the True Love gone. And Leigh gone. Unimaginable.

  He levered himself to his feet and went over to take the tin plate she held in her hand. “Go relax. I’ll get you something to eat. I assume you’re just having beans and bread.”

  “And a beer?” she added with a grin.

  Joe touched the brim of his hat. “Sure thing, ma’am.”

  “I do love a polite cowboy,” she said, and walked over to sit on a stump beside Kyle.

  The casual statement hit him with unexpected force. He didn’t want her to be casual with a word like that. Not around him. He wanted her to save a word like that for...what? God, he was getting muddled.