The Lawman Read online

  Joe hesitated and glanced at Kyle. “Is that okay with you, son?”

  “Daddy, you aren’t gonna ride that...that Romeo, are you?”

  “Not today, that’s for sure.”

  “You might ride him some other day?”

  Joe put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I doubt that, Kyle. Don’t worry about it. I’d appreciate your helping Miss Singleton get our stuff while I talk to Mr. McGuinnes.”

  “You mean her?” Kyle pointed to Leigh.

  “Yes. Miss Singleton.”

  “She said to call her Leigh.”

  “Oh.” Joe’s glance flicked to Leigh and she nodded. “Okay.” He dug in his pocket for the car keys and handed them to her. “Thanks, Leigh.”

  She’d waited a lifetime to hear her name spoken with that subtle intonation that hinted of future passion. “You’re welcome.” She took the keys, her fingers brushing his. The texture of his skin was tantalizingly familiar. As she’d have expected, the key ring was plain with no whimsical identification hanging from it. A unicorn dangled on her key chain. “Come on, Kyle.” Leigh held out her hand, and after another apprehensive look in his father’s direction, Kyle put his hand in hers. As she started away from Joe, she could feel his gaze on her and knew from an abrupt absence of warmth the very moment he turned away and returned his attention to Ry.

  “I take it you like `Star Trek,’” she said to Kyle as they neared the battered car.

  He nodded vigorously.

  “How about `The Next Generation’?”

  Kyle glanced up at her in surprise. “Have you seen that show?”

  “Yes. I didn’t watch all the episodes, but I’ve seen a few.”

  “I’ve seen them all but what I like best is the movies.”

  “And your favorite character is Spock.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “How did you know?” When she smiled, understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, yeah. My ears.”

  “That was my first clue.”

  “Dad wanted me to take them off, but I didn’t.”

  “You mean those aren’t your real ears?”

  He giggled. “No. ‘Course not. I’m not a Vulcan really.”

  “Well, they look real.”

  “They sure do.” He gazed up at her with the sunniest expression she’d seen since he arrived. “You know what I have in the car?” he said. “The bridge of the Enterprise! I’ll show it to you.” He started to pull away from her.

  “Wait a minute, Kyle.” She gently tugged him back. “Let me go inside the car first. There’s broken glass, and I don’t want either of us to get cut.” She led him around to the driver’s side of the Cavalier and opened the door.

  “It should be on the seat.” Kyle bounced around behind her, trying to see inside. “That’s where I left it.”

  “Let me check.” Leigh picked a couple of pieces of glass from the driver’s seat and put her knee down gingerly. When no hidden glass bit into it, she held the passenger seat headrest for balance and leaned over, searching for Kyle’s toy. Nothing occupied the seat but a shower of glass.

  “Do you see it?”

  “Not yet. I’m looking.” She peered on the floor, but only found more glass, a discarded Big Mac box and a map. With a sinking sensation in her stomach, she leaned farther across the seat so that she could see into the caved-in space between the seat and the door. A crumpled piece of multicolored plastic was wedged there. She’d never seen a model of the bridge of the Enterprise, but she was pretty sure she was looking at the ruins of one now.

  “Is it in there?” His voice was pitched higher now, as if he’d guessed the fate of his treasure.

  She longed to tell him she couldn’t find it, unload the trunk and let Joe handle this. She backed out of the car and crouched to Kyle’s level. “I’m afraid the bridge is done for, Kyle. It fell between the seat and door, and when the bull—”

  “I wanna see!” He made a lunge for the interior of the car and she caught him just in time. “I wanna see!” he cried again, struggling in her arms.

  “You can’t. There’s glass everywhere. I’m sorry, Kyle.”

  “Spock is in there!” From Kyle’s tragic wail Leigh could almost imagine Leonard Nimoy himself squashed in the wreckage.

  “We’ll get him out,” she said, holding fast to the squirming boy. “But it might take a crowbar to get that door open. And I don’t know what you’ll find.”

  Sobbing, Kyle collapsed against her. “My bridge. My bridge.”

  Leigh held him as tears misted her own eyes. Poor little guy. He’d have a hard time living up to the rough-and-tough image his father seemed to hold in such esteem.

  “What’s he crying about now?”

  She glanced up to see Joe standing less than a yard away, his legs braced apart, his hands bracketing his hips, his expression clearly annoyed. But it was his use of “now” that set her off. “He just discovered his favorite toy was smashed in the door when the bull charged,” she snapped. “And he has every right to cry about that, in my opinion.”

  Joe’s eyes narrowed, just as she’d imagined they would when facing down a gunslinger. “I don’t remember asking your opinion. Kyle, come here.”

  Kyle slowly disengaged himself from Leigh’s arms, turned and walked toward his father, his head bowed.

  Joe crouched. “We’ll get another bridge, Kyle.”

  Kyle sniffed. “I want Spock,” he said brokenly.

  “Stop crying and be a big boy.”

  Leigh clenched her teeth in frustration. She glanced around for Ry, but he must have found an errand elsewhere. She’d have to deal with Mr. Macho on her own.

  “I want Spock!” Kyle cried.

  “We’ll get another Spock.”

  Kyle’s head came up as if his father had uttered a blasphemy. “No, Daddy! We have to get him out!”

  “Kyle, it’s just a plastic—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Leigh stormed around the car and grabbed the handle. Focusing all her strength on the task, she yanked the door. It came open, the remaining window glass tinkling as it spilled to the dirt. A little figure in a blue tunic toppled out. She picked him up. He had a couple of nicks, but at least he wasn’t missing any body parts.

  Joe had come around the car, Kyle’s hand firmly gripped in his. Leigh avoided his gaze as she handed the tiny figure to Kyle.

  “Thanks, Leigh,” he whispered, holding Spock against his chest. Then his glance fell on the mangled bridge smashed up against the seat and his lower lip trembled.

  “That’s enough, Kyle. Go on over by the blue truck while we unload the car.”

  The little boy started over. Once, he turned back and gazed with grief-stricken eyes at his beloved bridge, but at a nod from Joe he trudged on.

  “Don’t you see that it’s more than just a piece of plastic to him?” Leigh asked.

  “That’s what bothers me. He’s in tears at the drop of a hat.”

  “And I don’t suppose you’ve ever cried, have you?”

  “Not since I was a lot younger than he is. Not that it’s any of your business, if you’ll pardon my being blunt.”

  “If you’ll pardon my being blunt, Kyle is nothing like you. He’s a sensitive, imaginative little soul who needs careful nurturing.”

  His jaw muscles tensed. “If he is, it’s because he’s been mollycoddled.”

  “I suppose you consider what I just did mollycoddling?”

  “Yes.” When she started to protest, he cut her off.

  “Kyle is my son,” he said with fierce emphasis. “My son.”

  “You sound as if I mean to take him away from you!”

  “That’s ridiculous!” He walked quickly past her toward the car. “We’re wasting time. Let’s get the stuff out of the trunk.”

  Her anger drained away. So that was it. Although he’d moved rapidly to hide his response, she’d seen the flash of stark fear in his eyes. He was a divorced father afraid of losing touch with his only child. Leigh wondered if it ha
d already happened, or if fate had tossed them all together just in the nick of time.

  3

  AS JOE RODE with Leigh and Kyle up to the ranch house, rainbows flashed in his face from the crystal she’d hung from the rearview mirror. Damned distracting and probably a road hazard, he thought. He’d noticed a rainbow painted on the fender, and a unicorn hung from her key chain, swaying with every jolt of the rutted dirt road. So she was into the New Age scene. Next she’d be asking him what sign he was born under so she could figure out why he was such a mean father.

  He wondered if things could possibly be worse. Kyle was afraid of everything about the ranch, except, of course, for his new idol, Leigh Singleton. As they drove, Leigh pointed out a jackrabbit and a roadrunner to Kyle, who seemed entranced with every observation Leigh made. Joe would be lucky if he’d get any time alone with the kid now. Kyle would be Leigh’s shadow for the next week.

  On top of that, Joe had begun to believe there really was a sabotage problem at the True Love. Apparently, he’d given up New York felons in exchange for Arizona saboteurs. Had he really been naive enough to imagine he’d find a different world out here? And his car was smashed in, not to mention Kyle’s favorite toy. He’d felt bad about that, but pampering Kyle wouldn’t help the kid grow up. The world was a rough place, but Kyle wouldn’t learn that from Emerson J. Pope. Teaching Kyle those lessons was up to Joe.

  “Did Ry send you any pictures of the ranch house?” Leigh asked, glancing at Joe.

  “No.” He decided to tack on a little more explanation so he wouldn’t sound belligerent. Leigh had already caused him to display his feelings more than he cared to. “But he did describe it as whitewashed adobe, so I have a mental picture.”

  “Leigh, what’s adobe?” Kyle asked.

  Joe noticed which adult Kyle asked for information.

  “It’s building blocks made of mud and straw,” she said. “In the old days, they baked the blocks in the sun, but now they fire them the way you would a clay pot.”

  “Could I make some adobe blocks and bake them in the sun?”

  “Sure. I mean—” She shot a look at Joe. “We’ll have to see how the time works out. I’m sure you have a lot of things planned to do with your father.”

  “Not really.”

  Joe clenched his jaw. “Leigh’s a busy lady, Kyle. She’s the head wrangler for the ranch, which means she has to take care of all the horses. I don’t know if she’ll have time to—”

  “I have time.” Her voice had an edge to it.

  Joe felt as if she’d just drawn a line in the sand with the toe of her boot. “So do I,” he said.

  “So do I!” chortled Kyle. “We can all do it together.”

  A dry chuckle came from Leigh’s side of the cab. Then she steered the truck around a bend in the road and the ranch house came into view. “Well, here we are.”

  A small smile of satisfaction came unbidden to Joe’s lips. The graceful one-story ranch house, shaded across the front with a wide porch, looked exactly as he’d pictured it. Pots of red geraniums and a line of cane chairs occupied the porch, although no one was sitting there in the heat of early afternoon.

  “That’s a big house,” Kyle said. “How many people live in it?”

  “That depends.” Leigh parked the truck in front of a low wall that embraced a front yard of grass and two large trees. “We don’t have many guests this time of year. August is always slow. But when all the guest rooms are full, we have close to sixty people here.”

  “Then it’s just like an apartment,” Kyle said. “Only stretched out flat instead of stacked up.”

  Leigh turned to him and smiled. “That’s right. We have room to stretch out on the True Love.”

  She had a way with double meanings, Joe thought. And that smile. He’d never seen one quite like it. It warmed and welcomed, yet hinted of untold secrets. He was a sucker for secrets.

  “Belinda makes the best lemonade in the valley,” Leigh said, opening the door of the truck. “Who’s ready for some?”

  “Me!” Kyle said. “Who’s Belinda?”

  “She’s been in charge of the kitchen for more than fifty years.”

  “Wow.” Kyle slipped under the steering wheel and got out on Leigh’s side. “I need my backpack.”

  “I’ll get it,” Joe volunteered. “You two go ahead. I’ll bring the suitcases.” He wanted some time alone to savor the setting as well as a few minutes to neutralize Leigh’s effect on him. In spite of his earlier anger and her instant camaraderie with Kyle, he was drawn to her. If he didn’t exercise some care, he’d soon be following her around just like his son.

  He watched the two of them go up the flagstone walk as if they’d known each other for years. Kyle grabbed Leigh’s hand and pointed, with obvious excitement, to a pair of cottontails munching on the grass. Crouching next to him, Leigh said something Joe couldn’t hear and Kyle nodded solemnly. His heart heavy, Joe turned away and walked around to the truck’s tailgate to retrieve the luggage. Kyle was supposed to be responding to him like that, instead of to some woman who had been a stranger only two hours earlier.

  He slung Kyle’s backpack—a Star Trek model, of course—over one shoulder and hefted a suitcase in each hand. He hadn’t brought much, figuring Western clothes would be cheaper out here than back in New York. He’d sublet his apartment, leaving it furnished; it had been no trick to turn his back on that depressing little place. Leaving the station had been tougher than he’d imagined, though. He couldn’t quite believe he was no longer a cop. After twenty years, it felt weird to be a civilian, to know he wouldn’t be putting his life on the line every day.

  But the charging bull had thrown him right back into the old adrenaline rush, and he had to admit he’d missed it. He wouldn’t go back to police work just to get some excitement in his life, but becoming a bull rider... With a faint smile of anticipation, he headed up the flagstone walk.

  His boots clomped satisfyingly on the wooden porch as he crossed to the heavy set of carved doors. He set down one of the suitcases, opened one of the doors and propped his shoulder against it. But as he reached down to retrieve the suitcase, Lavette appeared and grabbed it instead.

  “Just in time, Joe,” Lavette said. “We’re trying to get everybody together so Amanda can report on the ad campaign for the True Love Rodeo.”

  “The what?” After some quick thinking, Joe remembered that Amanda was Lavette’s wife’s name, but this was the first he’d heard about a rodeo.

  “We have to do something to improve business,” Lavette said. “We decided to hold a rodeo.” He set Joe’s suitcase down on the brick-colored tile and glanced around. “What do you think of the place?”

  Joe put down the other suitcase and took in the high-beamed ceiling, beehive fireplace, massive leather furniture and huge picture window looking out on a sparkling pool. To his left, through an archway, was a dining room with several rugged-looking tables flanked by ladder-back chairs. “I can’t imagine why business isn’t booming,” he said. “This is fantastic.”

  Lavette lowered his voice. “It’s the damned accidents. The True Love’s getting a bad reputation. Ry called up here from the corrals and told me about the fence. We’re hoping you—” A baby’s lusty wail interrupted him. Lavette grinned and looked toward a doorway off to the right. “The kid’s got a good set of lungs.”

  Joe recognized fatherly pride in Lavette’s tone. “Must be the famous baby I’ve been hearing about.”

  “Yeah.” Lavette turned to Joe and his grin widened. “That’s Bart, the wonder baby, conceived in the cab of the prettiest Peterbilt you’ve ever seen. Amanda’s in Freddy’s office changing his diaper. She’ll bring him out when he’s decent.”

  Joe envied Lavette, just starting out with his son. Chase had a chance to do it right, while Joe wondered if he’d ever make up for the years he’d lost with Kyle. “Speaking of kids, where’s mine?”

  “Leigh shuttled him to the kitchen for lemonade and cookies.”


  Joe swung the backpack from his shoulders. “I’d better take him this.”

  “Just go through the dining room. The kitchen is beyond the swinging door on the right. The working end of the ranch house is all in that wing and the guest rooms are on the other side. While you’re gone, I’ll find out where these suitcases go and have them transferred.”

  “Thanks.” Joe started toward the archway leading into the dining room.

  “Joe?”

  “Yeah?” Joe turned back toward Lavette.

  “Maybe Belinda should keep your son in the kitchen while the rest of us talk out here. Ry’s on his way up and wants to go over the incident with the fence. No use scaring your son with stories about what’s been happening around the ranch.”

  “Sure.” Joe started through the dining room and fought his irritation with Lavette. Didn’t anyone credit him with any sense about being a father? Of course he wouldn’t let Kyle hear their discussion. Introducing him to horses and cowboys was one thing. Exposing him to adult violence was quite another. But Lavette was new to this parenthood business and probably thought he knew more than anyone else. Joe remembered a time when he’d felt that way, too.

  He pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, a large room equipped with a commercial-size stovetop, two wall-mounted ovens, numerous cupboards and wide counters. At a small table to his right sat Leigh, Kyle and an older couple. An aluminum walker stood next to the old fellow’s chair. An animated discussion came to a halt as everyone glanced up when he came in.

  “Hi, Dad,” Kyle said, his mouth full. “The cookies are great. You should have one.”

  “Maybe in a little while. I thought you’d want your backpack.” Joe couldn’t remember a time in the past three years when Kyle hadn’t been frantic to have his backpack next to him.

  “Sure.” He put down his cookie and slid unhurriedly from his seat before coming toward Joe to take the pack. “Thanks.”

  Leigh stood. “Joe, I’d like you to meet Belinda and Dexter Grimes. Dexter was the foreman here for years.”

  “But a blood clot zapped into his brain, Dad.” Kyle shouldered his backpack and walked over to stand next to the aging cowboy, who gazed at Kyle with a bemused expression. “He can understand everything, but he can’t talk so good, right, Dexter?”