The Cowboy And The Cop
Christine Wenger
THE BULL RIDER HEADS HOMESergeant Amber Chapman didn’t come all the way to Oklahoma City for Luke Beaumont’s autograph. His family ranch, a major tourist attraction, is on the auction block. She’d drag the star bull rider back in handcuffs if it meant saving her hometown! But the biggest attraction is Luke himself…even if he’s always been out of reach for the girl from the wrong side of town.Luke can’t help himself—he’s drawn to the quick-witted and sassy sheriff, even as they track down the cattle rustlers targeting his ranch. Unless he can make Amber see they’re perfect for each other, Luke might lose her. If he has his way, they’ll be together forever—this cowboy’s betting the ranch on it!
THE BULL RIDER HEADS HOME
Sergeant Amber Chapman didn’t come all the way to Oklahoma City for Luke Beaumont’s autograph. His family ranch, a major tourist attraction, is on the auction block. She’d drag the star bull rider back in handcuffs if it meant saving her hometown! But the biggest attraction is Luke himself...even if he’s always been out of reach for the girl from the wrong side of town.
Luke can’t help himself—he’s drawn to the quick-witted and sassy sheriff, even as they track down the cattle rustlers targeting his ranch. Unless he can make Amber see they’re perfect for each other, Luke might lose her. If he has his way, they’ll be together forever—this cowboy’s betting the ranch on it!
“What’s wrong, Amber? Did I say something to hurt you?”
“Of course not.” She shook her head. “Let’s go.”
Luke held on to her upper arms and searched her face as if her reason for her meltdown was inked on her face.
It would be so easy to step into his arms, just to lay her head on his chest for a while or get a warm hug.
Instead, Luke gently held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. It was so tender, she almost cried again.
“I hate it when women cry, especially you, Amber. You’re such a strong woman—something must be really bothering you.”
“I can’t tell you. Not right now, Luke. I will someday if the occasion presents itself.”
He bent his head and kissed her lips—softly, lightly. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
When he stopped, she wanted to scream. Then his lips closed over hers again, and it was just like her dreams, only much, much better. With each kiss, she knew that she’d never be the same again.
Dear Reader (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953),
Welcome to Beaumont, Oklahoma, the home of the three bull-riding Beaumont brothers: Luke, Reed and Jesse. They are all Gold Buckle Cowboys.
Luke Beaumont’s story begins my “bull-riding Beaumont brothers” trilogy, which I hope you’ll enjoy.
Of course, Luke is a sexy bull rider (is there any other kind?) who ignored Sergeant Amber Chapman throughout high school. But then she arrives at a public autograph session and gives him a piece of her mind. A big piece. Luke is a prize-winning cowboy who has some personal items to deal with, including Amber Chapman. Lots of luck, Luke!
Life is also good in Central New York, where I live, but I’m writing this in sunny Florida in our new motor home. We plan on driving to some PBR events as well as visiting some rodeos.
See you there!
Chris Wenger
The Cowboy and the Cop
Christine Wenger
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTINE WENGER has worked in the criminal justice field for more years than she cares to remember, but now spends her time reading, writing and seeing the sights in our beautiful world. A native Central New Yorker, she loves watching professional bull riding and rodeo with her favorite cowboy, her husband, Jim. You can reach Chris at PO Box 1823, Cicero, NY 13039, or through her website at christinewenger.com (http://www.christinewenger.com).
To all cowboys and cops,
Be careful out there!
And to Michele Goldstein, new friend, who keeps smiling through every challenge. Chocolate will help!
Contents
Cover (#udaa3cdec-eaea-5c44-a00a-b8991a990ce9)
Back Cover Text (#u7e7446cc-0e1c-5491-b1b0-f078350bba1a)
Introduction (#u9d81f741-12ed-5ac5-8acb-8578c688fcef)
Dear Reader (#u76098d13-3236-5498-b873-106829c92e2e)
Title Page (#u2ef6c898-7467-5b79-8547-4c8d4020cb38)
About the Author (#u0f9dc150-cda7-537e-aa05-be6e3489c4ae)
Dedication (#udbb3947f-93ee-5361-b779-f4501db56d79)
Chapter One (#u56b1c13f-2ea4-5f96-9af6-a970953143c4)
Chapter Two (#ubf3c5f9d-d0d8-5a86-a4fb-905da698634a)
Chapter Three (#u84541bbf-03e9-5379-8f6f-1f369ceab50d)
Chapter Four (#ufbd44a15-1ad3-5ecf-9798-74026bc96603)
Chapter Five (#u70656e90-2238-5627-bd30-deed143f9c6f)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953)
What am I doing here? I feel like a buckle bunny.
Several times Amber Chapman thought of leaving the Professional Bull Riders autograph session in the huge Oklahoma City arena. She’d stood in bull rider Luke Beaumont’s line way too long so she could give him a piece of her mind.
I have a million things to do back home.
Maybe she should just let the three Beaumont brothers find out on their own that they were going to lose the ranch that had been in their family for generations, but she just couldn’t do that to the brothers, not even Luke, no matter how much she disliked him. Besides, their town would suffer the most, since the Beaumont Ranch employed many of the locals...or at least it used to.
Not anymore. Not in its present state.
Luke barely looked up at her when Amber finally stood in front of him. Robotically he slid over a glossy eight-by-ten picture of himself.
“Who would you like me to sign it to?” he said, a black felt-tip pen poised over a large photo of him riding a huge bull.
“Sergeant Amber Chapman of Beaumont, Oklahoma, but actually you can skip the autograph and the photo.”
Luke looked up from his place at the long table of bull riders signing and posing for pictures with their fans.
He grinned. “Amber? Amber Chapman. Hey, it’s been a long time. I didn’t know you were a fan.”
She had forgotten that he had the brightest blue eyes—more like turquoise. The lights of the arena made them even bluer.
Amber noticed, of course, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t there to look at his eyes or at how his muscles stretched out his chambray shirt, or how good he smelled. Like leather and pine.
She refocused on the task at hand. Placing her hands on the table, Amber leaned over so only he could hear.
“There’re a couple of things I need to make you aware of, Luke, but I’m not going to go into them now. There are too many people within hearing distance, and you have a long line waiting. What I have to say is for your ears only. You can fill your brothers in later.”
She looked down the long parade of tables. She spotted the other two Beaumonts: Reed and Jesse, Luke’s younger brothers.
Amber whispered, “I saw a bar across the street from the stadium. It’s called the Silver Spur. I’ll meet you there. And, by the way, I’m not a fan of yours.”
Okay, that was a lie. He was a good rider who’d probably win the Finals. Besides, he was a hometown celebrity and that brought a lot of attention to the town of Beaumont.
“And here I was hoping you waited in line for my autograph and a selfie.” Luke grinned. “Are you still mad at me over the senior prom?”
Yeah, she was still mad at him. It seemed ridiculous to hold a grudge for so long, but there was only one senior prom in her lifetime, and it had been the worst night of her life.
“I’m not here to talk about that, and don’t flatter yourself, Luke. I’m not one of your groupies.” She rolled her eyes. “And why would you think I was?”
“Because you had to drive here from Beaumont. Let’s see...Beaumont to Oklahoma City...that’s more than a three-hour drive.”
“I like to drive. I like bull riding in general.”
“But you still haven’t forgiven me, huh?”
“Not particularly. How am I supposed to forgive you when you ruined one of the most important events of senior year by getting my date drunk and sending him home in a taxi?”
“He was a jerk.”
“He was my date. Maybe someone should have had the courtesy of telling me where he was.”
“I should have told you right away. I admit it. Can we just forget about it?”
“I suppose it was a long time ago. I can think about forgiving you.”
He raised a perfect black eyebrow. “Well, at least you asked me out to a bar. That’s a start.”
Amber gritted her teeth. “I need to talk to you, that’s all. No more.”
“It must be really important.”
“Of course it’s important. Or why would I have driven all this way? Oh, and by the way, when the Beaumonts are champions of our hometown again, Luke, then you can autograph a picture for me and we can take a selfie. Just meet me after this circus so we can talk.”
* * *
LUKE BEAUMONT SCANNED the packed bar for Amber. It seemed that the entire arena had emptied out and gathered into a two-thousand-square-foot building. People were packed elbow to elbow; most sported denim and clutched a beer in their hand.
The dance floor was equally full. Patrons were dancing in between tables, some on the tables.
The Silver Spur wasn’t the quiet spot that Amber wanted.
Suddenly applause started—low at first then it picked up steam. Everyone turned to look at him. Cheers resounded through the room.
“Yeah, Luke!”
“Congratulations, Luke!”
“Yeehaw!”
He didn’t particularly like the attention. Yes, he’d won the PBR event tonight, but there were a lot of other bull riders who deserved applause for great rides. He’d just got lucky.
Luke tipped his hat to the crowd and they went back to what they’d been doing. No one approached him for autographs or selfies, but a waitress came over with a frosty longneck and a stack of bar tokens toward drinks.
Sweet.
Finally he saw Amber waving to him.
The crowd parted as he zigzagged toward her, but he had to run a gauntlet of handshakes, backslaps and flirty smiles along with pieces of paper slipped into his shirt pocket. Phone numbers.
He’d never called one of the numbers given to him. Never.
He tipped his hat to Amber, slid into a chair opposite her and pulled out his stack of tokens. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’ll have a ginger ale. I have to drive home tonight.”
All he had to do was hold up his hand and a waitress was at his side.
“A ginger ale for the lady and I’ll take another one of these.” He pointed to his bottle.
While he waited for Amber to tell him what was on her mind, he leaned back on his chair and wondered why she looked so different to him. He’d seen her around town occasionally, but he’d never really looked at her. She was just there, like most of Beaumont. He knew just about everyone casually and had gone to school with a good chunk of the population—after all it was a small town—but he didn’t really know Amber.
He’d seen her in a sheriff’s uniform once and that had surprised him. Her father and brothers weren’t exactly pillars of the community. They tried just about every get-rich-quick scheme known to mankind, and their junkyard was known for hot car parts. And their moonshine...well, when the word got around that a new batch was ready, there was usually a line at the junkyard’s back door.
Their drinks were delivered along with more tokens. Still, he waited for her to tell him what was on her mind.
After the waitress left, Amber crossed her arms and leaned toward him. Her usually full lips were clasped together in a thin, white line, but her eyes were the greenest of green, like emeralds. Her shoulder-length hair had various shades of blond, and she wasn’t loaded with makeup, but those emerald eyes began to narrow.
This wasn’t going to be good.
“Luke, have you been home lately?”
“If you follow the PBR, you know I haven’t. Every weekend, there’s another event. I’m on the tour and close to winning the season. If you’re worried about us seeing my father, we got him a cell phone and call him a lot. He knows that I can’t be around much. The same with my brothers.”
“Isn’t there a summer break coming up soon?”
“Yep. After Billings, Montana, this weekend.”
“As you recently told me, you are only three hours from home.”
“I know, but I might as well be in Alaska. I have way too many things I have to do right now and the week after Billings.”
“You’d better change your plans and the sooner the better,” Amber said.
“Why, what’s going on?”
She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse, unfolded it and handed it to him. “It’s a copy. Your ranch is going up for auction for back taxes in two weeks.”
He scanned the letter. “Dammit!”
“Big Dan didn’t tell you?” she asked.
“Of course not. My father doesn’t care about the ranch. Not since my mother died.” Looking at the letter again, he shook his head. “And that’s when my father stopped paying taxes. I know he doesn’t give a hoot about the ranch anymore, but I thought he was at least keeping up with the taxes. We’ve been sending him money...”
He shrugged.
“It’s easy to see that Big Dan hasn’t been putting money into the ranch, Luke. It’s been a mess since Hurricane Daphne. Your outbuildings are falling down, the main barn’s roof has a hole in it, and the handful of stock your father didn’t sell is scattered to the wind. Your neighbors and former workers took them in and have been taking care of them. The homestead’s portico is hanging on by one post and some windows are blown out. My brothers boarded them up.”
A plan was already formulating in his mind but he had to get Jesse and Reed, his brothers, involved. The Beaumont Ranch had been part of their heritage since the late nineteenth century land rush in Oklahoma. Old Pierre Beaumont might have been a “Sooner,” someone who jumped the whistle too soon, but he’d plopped his wagon on acres of prime cattle and horse land. Throughout the decades, his descendants had added a total of twenty-thousand acres to the original homestead.
“I promise that I’ll get home in two weeks, and take care of things,” he said.
“That’ll be cutting it close, but you’ll make the auction.”
“You mean I can’t buy it back before then? I could send a check.”
“It’s too late for that.” She shook her head. “And that’d have to be one big check.”
“Did my father get notices?”
“Of course he did. I happen to know that Connie McBride, who runs the tax department, personally delivered several notices to him.”
He took a long draw of his beer. “This is just getting worse and worse by the second. But you drove all that way, watched the bull riding, stood in my autographing line. Why did you put yourself out? I mean, we’ve barely seen each other since high school. Why are you helping us?”
“Because the Beaumont Ranch employs a good chunk of the town, and the town is suffering, Luke. The homestead used to be a tourist attraction, which added to our economy. It’s on the list of national historic places, for heaven’s sake. Now the high school kids are using it for partying at night.”
“I didn’t know, but thanks for telling me.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Amber held up a hand to stop him. “Hang on, there’s more. Much more, and it gets way worse.”
Luke had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. What could be worse? Any adrenaline left over from his win was quickly vanishing.
“You might not know, but I’m a sergeant with the Beaumont County Sheriff’s Department. I arrested your father three times.”
“Arrested Big Dan? Three times?” His voice grew loud then he lowered it. “What the hell did he do?”
“Bar fights. Big Dan is turning into the town drunk, Luke. And he’s a shadow of his former self,” Amber said softly. “He’s wasting away. But with any luck, his probation officer, Matty Matthews, and inpatient rehab will help him.”
He tapped his fingers on the table to get rid of some nervous energy. “I know Matty. We were in junior rodeo together. But probation? And inpatient rehab?” Luke sat back in his chair. “I can’t picture my father being successful at either.”
“I’ll tell you more about it when you come home. I really should be leaving soon. I have an early shift in the morning.”
“Listen, Amber.” Luke sighed. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but, truth be told, I’ve been avoiding going home. In that way, I’m a lot like my father. And sometimes I feel like I’ve lost both parents. So I threw myself into bull riding to forget everything.”
Amber made a move to put her hand over his, but clearly changed her mind at the last minute and took a sip of her ginger ale instead.
“I really should get going, Luke.”
“Thanks for making it a point to tell me everything. I really appreciate it. So will my brothers. If we lost the ranch, well...it’d be a tough blow. Let me walk you to your car.”
They walked to the lot near the arena in silence. “Here is mine.” She pointed. “The red Honda SUV.”
He waited as she opened the door. “Well, see you at home, Luke.”
“Give me a week after Billings. I’ll get right on a plane and will land at the auction.”
She smiled.
It didn’t seem like Amber smiled often; she was very serious. Then again, she’d had some very serious things to tell him.
He’d opened up to her and couldn’t figure out why. He’d never told anyone what he’d just told her.
But Amber had changed. In high school, she was quiet and had ten-foot walls around her that only the brave—or stupid—would approach. She hadn’t had many friends, mostly due to her family’s moonshining activities and rumors of them selling hot car parts. The fact that she lived in a fairly dilapidated house surrounded by a junkyard made her the brunt of even more hurtful comments.
He’d always quelled those kind of jokes, because he’d seen the sadness in her eyes, the tightness of her lips. He’d seen her hurry away for the protection of a dark corner, and then he’d seen her cry.
Why hadn’t he done more to stop the jokes? Instead, he’d only succeeded in his classmates not joking about her in front of him, but he knew that it still occurred.
He should have done more back then to help her, and now Amber had given him the biggest gift of his life by telling him about his ranch.
“See you at home, Luke.”
He took her hand and couldn’t decide whether to shake it or kiss the back of it. So he pulled her toward him in a hug and kissed her forehead.
He heard her slight gasp and he smiled.
She was smiling, too.
There was a little crack in that wall around her and he wondered if he could knock it down for good and get to know more of Deputy Sheriff Sergeant Amber Chapman.
Chapter Two (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953)
“Six...seven...eight! He did it, ladies and gentlemen! He did it!”
The announcer’s voice echoed through the cavernous arena in Billings.
Luke did a flying dismount from his bull, Cowabunga. Then the animal pushed him with his huge nose across the arena dirt as if Luke was a rolling pin. Luke felt that the bull actually knew he’d beaten him. That was Cowabunga’s revenge.
Every bone in his body screamed and his teeth rattled in his head. He knew he had whacked his knee again. It took all the effort he could muster to get up, run to the chute gate and climb to safety until the bullfighters got the massive bull out of the arena and into his pen.
“The winner of the Iron Cowboy Showdown is none other than Luke Beaumont!” Dwight Frenza, the arena announcer, said enthusiastically.
Luke knew the drill. When Dwight said, “Everyone put your hands together for the winner...” it was Luke’s signal to stand in front of the Professional Bull Riders sign and be interviewed and presented with a gold buckle and maybe a new pair of boots.
The big check would come later.
Good. He needed it.
Behind the chutes, several monitors were set up and he stopped to see the updated stats. Between the slaps on his back and hearty handshakes from other riders and PBR personnel congratulating him, Luke noticed that his two brothers had dropped a couple places on the standings, but he had no doubt that his brothers would move up. Out of the top twenty-five professional riders, he was number one. Reed was now fourth and Jesse was fifth. Together they were known as the Beaumont Big Guns.
Speaking of Reed and Jesse, both came bounding out of the locker room. Reed had a bag of ice taped to his shoulder and a black eye. Jesse had a bandage around his right hand and wrist.
Reed pumped his hand. “Incredible ride, bro.”
Jesse gave him a fist bump with his good hand. “You did it again, Luke! Three wins in a row.”
“Everyone fairly okay?” Luke asked.
“Just a little nick from my last bull’s horns,” Reed said.
“Nothing worth mentioning.” Jesse shrugged. “But how are you doing, Luke? You took quite a rolling from Cowabunga.”
“I think I trashed my knee again. It hurts like hell. I’ll head to Sports Medicine. They’ll probably tape it and remind me again to get surgery.”
“Don’t forget the autographing, Luke. As usual, the fans will be lined up to see you,” Reed said.
Luke looked forward to signings because he loved talking to fans of the sport. Once in a while, someone from his past would go through his line and it was cool to get reacquainted.
Just like Amber Chapman. But they really hadn’t gotten reacquainted. She’d sternly pointed out that he’d better take care of the ranch and the town or both would disintegrate.
Amber had looked good. Her shoulder-length hair was various shades of blond and her green eyes had looked like new spring grass. He didn’t know why he was being poetic when he thought of Amber. He must have been bucked off too many times and smacked his head.
He’d thought about what Amber had told him for the entire week before the Billings event, but what he hadn’t done was talk to his brothers. He’d wanted to do that in person, and now was the time.
Their Oklahoma roots went back to about 1836 when their great-great-grandfather, Pierre Beaumont, rode from Gonzales, Texas, to fight for the Alamo and stayed to establish a town and a ranch on the outskirts of San Antonio that he called Beaumont.
Although there had been several Beaumonts who’d run the ranch, expanded it and cared for it like Pierre, Big Dan hadn’t given a hoot about anything since his lovely wife, Valerie Lynn O’Malley Beaumont, had died in his arms after being kicked in the head by a horse.
Big Dan had easily fallen into booze and gambling, and resorted to yelling at his sons when they came to visit. He insisted that he didn’t want the ranch touched. Instead he wanted it frozen in time—the time that Valerie died.
Luke waved his brothers over to a corner of the locker room. “I have to talk to you both. There’s a great steakhouse down the street. It’s called Old Barn or something like that. After the autographing, let’s grab some steaks and talk.”
“Anything important?” Reed asked.
“I think it is.”
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT the three Beaumont Big Guns were treated like celebrities at the Old Barn. Over thick, rare steaks and curly fries with brown gravy, they posed for pictures, signed various pieces of clothing and several programs from the event.
“You are so handsome, Luke, and the best rider—ever,” a much-too-young girl said with her hand on his arm. “Reed is the brainiac, and Jesse is the party guy, but you’re...uh...like both of them, and you’re the best. I have your poster over my bed.”
As he removed her hand, he was amazed that she had his two brothers nailed perfectly. And he...well, she wasn’t the first fan who’d commented on his looks. As for being the best rider ever, he could think of many who were much better. He was just lucky enough to be on top right now. It could change at any minute.
Actually it was going to change soon. He wasn’t going to ride in other circuits over PBR’s summer break. He was going home for a while before Amber Chapman handcuffed him and dragged him home.
During a quiet moment, Luke turned to his brothers. “Hey, I want to talk to you about the ranch. It’s going on the auction block for back taxes in one week. Dad hasn’t paid the taxes since Mom died.”
“But we sent him money,” Reed said.
Luke sighed. “Obviously, he drank it away.”
Reed took a draw on his beer. “Three years is a lot of back taxes.”
“How do you know all this?” Jesse asked.
“I talked to Amber Chapman—or rather, she talked to me and let me have it. You remember Amber. Now she’s a deputy sheriff, and said she’s arrested Dad three times. The third time he got probation and is in rehab right now. His probation officer is Matty Matthews.”
“No kidding,” Jesse said in disbelief.
Reed grunted. “Dad’s on probation? And sitting in rehab? Knowing how he has been acting since Mom died, he isn’t going to last long at either one. I know Matty Matthews and he’s not going to take any crap from Dad. Big Dan will soon be in big-boy prison and doing big-boy time.”
Luke leaned forward. “We could pay off the taxes. There’s one week before the auction. If you guys are going to keep riding, I’ll go home and bid on it. During the summer, I’ll get things repaired and fixed up.”
The three brothers sat in silence until Jesse spoke.
“It’s all hard to take, but remember when we were kids, we constantly played Musketeers. Remember our oath?”
Jesse put his right hand in the middle of the table, palm down. Reed grinned and put his on top of his younger brother’s. Luke put his hand on top of the stack.
“One for all and all for one!” the Beaumont brothers vowed.
“Good.” Luke knew his brothers would come through. “I’m glad you feel the same as I do. Mom wouldn’t have wanted the ranch to fall into ruin. When Dad snaps out of his funk, he’ll realize that he almost lost the whole enchilada. Maybe he’ll care then, maybe not.”
Luke continued. “We’ll have to pool our resources for the auction, and it might take a huge chunk of change, especially if other people bid, too. Luckily, we’re all riding great and winning at the present moment.” Luke chuckled. “I have a bunch of commitments that I can’t escape during the next several days—pictures for some calendar and a jeans commercial. But I’ll be at the auction—I promise—and I’ll be in touch with more information.”
Jesse nodded. “Looks like Reed and I will be picking up another circuit for the summer to keep the money coming in. Okay with you, bro?”
Reed took a draw on his beer. “No sweat. We’ll ride in Tucson.”
Luke got up from the table. “We need some wins, brothers, so good luck. The ranch is going to take a lot of the green stuff.”
“Don’t forget the check, Mr. Gold Buckle.” Reed picked up the bill and handed it to Luke. “You know our rule—winner pays.”
“Yeah, cowboy. You make the big bucks,” Jesse added.
Since his brothers hadn’t hesitated to pitch in to get the ranch back in shape, Luke was never so happy to pay a check and take their kidding.
Now, if only things would go as well with Big Dan Beaumont.
* * *
THE TOWN OF Beaumont was unusually free of calls for a Monday morning, so Amber pulled out her study guide for the state police exam and went through the questions that she’d missed before. Opening a notebook, she jotted down some key words. She’d look up what she’d gotten wrong, make notes and study those for the future.
But even with a perfect score, Amber knew the biggest obstacle still was ahead, namely the background check. Even though her father claimed that his used car parts business was on the up-and-up, Amber could never be sure. And, if the officials found anything questionable, Amber would find herself stuck here in a town that still looked at her as Marv Chapman’s kid.
She’d tried to believe her father when he’d said they’d all be crime-free while she was a deputy sheriff and that no “funny business” would be going on, but could she trust him?
She was already a traitor in her father’s and three brothers’ eyes because she had gone “over to the other side.” They were mostly kidding when they teased her—mostly.
The residents of Beaumont looked down on the Chapmans and always would. But her goal for the longest time was to bring some respectability to the family name. That’s one of the reasons why she’d become a cop. The other was to keep her father and brothers in line. So far, so good, on that count.
Her mother had been looking for the same respectability. Kathleen Chapman had stayed with her husband and sons and tolerated their minor brushes with the law until Amber was accepted into college. Then Kathleen had taken a job in the cafeteria at the University of Oklahoma and the two of them had shared a small apartment.
Those were some of Amber’s happiest times.
And although they’d never divorced, Kathleen still had a soft spot for Marv and her three boys who followed in Marv’s footsteps: Aaron, Kyle and Ronnie.
There was some kind of loud commotion in the hallway. Amber was just about to lay her study guide down and check it out, when the door opened and a man—or rather, a cowboy—walked in.
He wore the typical dress of every other cowboy in town: jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a dinner plate of a buckle, a hat and dusty boots.
Leaning over the counter, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Amber was holding a study guide. She quickly closed it and tossed it into her desk drawer.
“Hello, Luke. You made it.”
“If I’m not disturbing you—”
“You’re not disturbing me. Although the noise in the hallway did. Was that your fan club?”
“Uh...just some people who were congratulating me on my wins in Billings and Oklahoma City.”
“Let me add my congratulations.”
“Thanks, Amber.” He took a deep breath and looked down at the marble floor. Finally he asked, “How about filling me in on my father’s arrests?”
Amber pulled a folder from her bottom drawer and opened it. Although she knew its contents by heart, Luke Beaumont always made her jumpy, and it gave her something to do with her hands.
“I think I told you that I arrested him three times. They were all at Tommy Lang’s bar. For the first two arrests I recommended to Judge Bascom that he just give him a stern warning and tell him to go to AA, but not the third time. That time, I recommended some days in jail along with probation and inpatient rehab. Your dad’s a fighter when he’s drunk and he can get quite mean, especially if someone brings up your mom.”
Luke grunted. “I’m sure he’s more miserable than ever, but tell me what he did at the bar. Obviously he was drunk. Any damage?”
“Yeah. The last time he jumped a biker who called him an old drunk. Your father said that he might be a drunk, but he wasn’t old. More words were exchanged relative to size and stature, and when the peanut shells settled on the floor, the damage totaled one thousand bucks.”
“I’ll pay it.”
“Your father is supposed to pay his own restitution,” Amber instructed.
“Yeah, well, my money is going to have to do.”
“That’ll teach him,” she mumbled.
“Where’s the tax department? I have an appointment to see Connie McBride.”
“There’s a sign right next to the entranceway, but your fans were probably blocking your view,” she teased. “It’s on the second floor. Up the stairs, turn left. Sign on door.”
“Thank you, Sergeant Chapman.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest. Why did he have to be so hot?
“I’ll leave you alone now, so you can get back to your reading. I’m glad Beaumont is crime-free, except for our fathers, huh? State police study guide?”
She wanted to coat him with pepper spray from the top of his Stetson to the bottom of his boots.
“If you want to pay your father’s restitution, so he wouldn’t have learned a thing from his experience, you can do so on the third floor in the Beaumont County Probation Department. Do you want me to draw you a map?” she said, trying to get back at his teasing her.
“I can handle it. Riding bulls hasn’t scrambled my brains that much.”
She grinned. “The jury is still out on that, Luke.”
He touched the brim of his hat to her. “Maybe I’ll stop in and see Matty Matthews while I’m there.”
As he walked toward the thick oak door and opened it, Amber couldn’t help but notice his tight butt.
That cowboy can really work a pair of jeans.
She could hear his boots knocking on the marble floor until they faded.
Sergeant Chapman hurried to the refrigerator in the break room, opened the freezer and let the air cool her flaming face.
Chapter Three (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953)
Amber looked great in the navy blue and white Beaumont County Sheriff’s Department uniform with full cop regalia, but Luke still remembered her at the senior prom, all sparkly and glowing. Crazy Kenny Fowler had been her date and he’d paid more attention to everyone but Amber.
During the prom, Luke got word that Kenny had Chapman moonshine on him and even more jars of the stuff in his car that he got “on sale” for taking Amber to the prom.
Luke had known exactly when Amber had heard Crazy Kenny say that stupid sentence. With head held high, she’d left. He’d excused himself from his date and secretly followed Amber home, just to make sure she’d gotten there all right.
He couldn’t help but hear her soft sobs as she’d slipped out of her heels on the sidewalk and kept on walking.
Funny, he remembered Amber that evening but he couldn’t remember whom he’d taken to the prom.
Reaching the second floor, he found the door labeled Beaumont County Department of Taxation and walked in. The office smelled musty, as if fresh air had never hit all the ledgers, microfiche and file cabinets. Looked like the tax department hadn’t caught up to the digital age.
“I know why you’re here, Luke,” said Mrs. McBride from behind the counter. Connie McBride was the mother of Leann, the head cheerleader he had dated during his sophomore year. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Reaching to her right, she slid a file from the top of the stack and positioned it in front of him. Using a stubby index finger with a nail cut to the quick, she pointed to a figure he knew was reachable but would be painful for his brothers and him.
“And these are the penalties.” She pointed to another figure.
Dammit, Dad. What have you done?
“I had no idea it was so much,” Luke mumbled.
“As I told you on the phone, according to the rules, I have no choice but to put your property up for auction,” Mrs. McBride leaned over the counter. “Hopefully, no one else will bid on it and you can buy it back. It has to go for at least these two figures. That’s the bottom line. The sale starts at ten o’clock sharp, Luke.” She checked her watch. “It’s nine thirty now. I’d better get going.”
“Is it downstairs?” Luke asked.
“No. It’s in the lobby of the courthouse. Not here.”
How could he be so stupid? He took her hand and shook it. “Thanks, Mrs. McBride. Oh, and how’s Leann?”
“She’s just a saint. She’s married and living in Fargo with an immature husband and four hellion boys—two sets of twins. I don’t know how she does it.”
He tipped his hat. “Thanks, Mrs. McBride.” He’d have to pay his father’s restitution for the three bar fights at a later date.
As he walked, he phoned Reed and told him the total amount. “Good. We’re covered and there’s some left,” Reed said.
“Is Jesse with you?” Luke asked.
“Yeah. I’ll put you on speakerphone so he can hear. We’re in Tucson now, chowing down on some cold pizza for breakfast and sitting outside on the balcony of our hotel.”
“Someone could outbid me, but I still think I have it covered,” Luke advised. His heart beat fast in his chest. A lot was at stake. Not only now, but for future generations of Beaumonts. The ranch was a living history of his family, and it made him get both misty and mad that his father had forgotten that. “Thanks, guys. I’d better get moving. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Good luck with Dad, bro,” Jesse said. “He was ornery and stubborn the last time I visited with him at the ranch. Not a lot of fun.”
“He’s really going to blow when he finds out that we’re going to save the ranch,” Reed added.
A sick feeling came over Luke, when he thought about the ranch. It used to be prosperous and whatever his father touched had turned to profit. They’d been noted for their rough stock far and wide.
But Big Dan had given away all the stock—bulls, horses, everything. The first to go was the horse that had kicked his mother in the head.
Erasing all memories of his thriving ranch was how his father had grieved. This devastated the brothers, who couldn’t stop Big Dan, so they threw themselves into riding bulls and staying away from the ranch and their father.
In retrospect, the whole bunch of them should have gone to counseling.
“Jesse, it’s time for you to win,” Luke said, shaking off what he still didn’t want to deal with.
“No kidding,” Jesse said.
They said their goodbyes and Luke disconnected.
As he walked to the courthouse he thought he’d rather ride a two-thousand-pound, bucking Brahma bull with horns as big as baseball bats than deal with his father.
* * *
“SERGEANT CHAPMAN, I’m assigning you to the tax auction. Crowd control. Then you need to direct traffic when it’s over,” Captain Fred Fitzgerald informed her.
Amber hated working tax auctions, but as Captain Fitz had said previously, “Someone has to keep all of them from killing Connie McBride, and I outrank you.”
She was always that someone.
As the only woman on the small force, Captain Fitzgerald gave her the assignments that none of the men wanted, or the ones that Fitz felt were beneath his macho deputies, and that made her feel frustrated and angry. She’d tried talking to Fitz on several occasions, and he’d always insisted that he was treating her the same as the other officers, so she got nowhere.
A larger force with more opportunities for advancement was one of many reasons why Amber wanted to get into the state police. Although there were probably Fitz types in the state police, there were more departments to transfer into if she got a Fitz.
When they offered a state police exam, she’d have to pass that, be reachable on the list, submit to a background check and several interviews along with the agility test.
Agility test. Ugh. She couldn’t get much agility sitting behind a desk. She jogged, of course, but she really should work out more. Maybe with a punching bag.
She vowed to join Marco’s Fit-nasium. It was the only gym in town.
Connie McBride was her usual busy self. Thank goodness she had an auctioneer who was going to do the actual sale of the property. Connie would faint if she had to do that chatter.
Bidders had been lined up since dawn and they were loud. They complained about everything like death, taxes and how rock-and-roll singers were taking over traditional country music, but mostly about taxes.
Luke Beaumont was in the crowd. She saw him leaning against the beige marble wall, a couple of fingers through the loops of his jeans. She couldn’t tell if he was amused or irritated, but he kept looking at the clock. Nine thirty-five.
Less than a half hour to go.
Amber didn’t think anyone in Beaumont could outbid him if Luke had the money, but there were always out-of-town speculators and condo builders looking for big chunks of land like the Beaumont property.
Amber walked toward Luke. When he saw her, he tweaked the brim of his hat. She liked it when guys did that. It was very gentlemanly.
“Having fun?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Now you know how your fans feel when they are waiting in line for your autograph.”
“I’ve always known how they felt,” Luke said. “And I appreciate every one of them.”
She was just about to tell him that on several occasions she’d been one of those fans waiting in line for him, but always changed her mind at the last minute—except for the time that had brought him here.
Amber looked around. “I recognize a couple of men who have traditionally bought up property at auction. Be ready, Luke. And I hope you have a lot of money in reserve.”
“Between my brothers and me, we ought to win the bid. And, Amber, thanks for coming to Oklahoma City and letting me know about...everything. I appreciate that you gave me a wake-up call.”
She shrugged her shoulders. She was only helping an old high school friend. That was all. Right?
“Good luck, Luke.”
“Thanks.”
Amber told herself that she just wanted to keep Beaumont the way it was—a nice, small town with lots of scenic grazing land dotted with cattle, horses and sheep and no absentee landlords.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Luke Beaumont was always traveling. Now he had to stay home for a relatively long period of time.
Not that she’d notice.
Moving to the back of the room, Amber eavesdropped on three men she didn’t recognize. They were looking at a survey map. She was almost certain it was the plot of the Beaumont Ranch. When she got an opportunity to peek, her suspicions were confirmed.
Luke had better be ready with buckets of money.
Everyone knew that he was a star with the Professional Bull Riders, and had made a lot of money riding with them. She also knew that he’d had a lot of injuries and that medical insurance for PBR riders, if anyone would insure them, was astronomical. She’d bet that Luke had a lot of medical bills that he had to pay.
Amber looked at the sign-in sheet which showed the times that everyone signed in. Perfect! The three strangers were last to sign in.
Amber Chapman made a split decision to help Luke.
Because she didn’t want him to feel indebted to her, she hoped he’d never find out.
After all, she was only doing her job.
* * *
IN THE LOBBY of the courthouse, the auctioneer pounded his gavel on the makeshift podium—a dark gray metal desk that had big rust spots on three sides.
“Now we have the Beaumont Ranch, which consists of a four-thousand-square-foot historic ranch house, several barns, several outbuildings and over twenty thousand acres of prime land. You all have the information—now let’s get started.”
Suddenly, Amber Chapman’s voice rang out. “Attention, please. Attention! We are over capacity in the lobby. I’m sorry, but I have to ask the following individuals to step out. You were the last to sign in, and because of our fire rules, you have to be the first to leave. The individuals are Mark McGee, Dave Hartman, Jr. and Ray Maldonado. Please step outside, gentlemen.”
“Are you serious?” said one of them.
“I am,” Amber replied.
“But we are going to bid on the Beaumont property,” said a stocky, bald man. His face was flushed.
Luke heard him say that loud and clear. Thank goodness the three men had to leave. Interesting—Luke never thought that the Beaumont Sheriff’s Department was a stickler on details, like kicking three guys out due to the fire rules, but it was to his benefit.
“Please step outside, gentlemen, and we’ll discuss the matter. Just as soon as another three people leave the facility, I can let you three back in.”
She held the door open for the three to pass.
“We could care less about any other property, Sergeant. We’ll be leaving this jerkwater town,” one of them said. “And for the record, Beaumont’s rule about having to be present to bid is medieval. We could have sent a proxy and not wasted our time.”
Amber was glad that Beaumont had that rule, or all types of speculators hoping to grab up property would descend on their tax auctions. Of course, they could sell the property at any time to whomever they wanted, but Beaumont’s rule added just one more level of making things a little more difficult for out-of-town bidders.
As soon as the last one cleared the door, Amber closed it and stood against it. “Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Auctioneer. Please proceed,” Amber yelled over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, Sergeant Chapman. Now, let’s start the bidding, folks.”
When the dust settled, Luke Beaumont and his brothers owned the Beaumont Ranch, or whatever was left of it.
That hadn’t been his plan. He was just going to pay the back taxes. That’s all. It’d still be in his father’s name.
But not now.
According to county rules and regulations, because he had the winning bid, he owned the Beaumont Ranch.
Since his brothers had pitched in their fair share, sooner or later he’d have to put the deed in their names, too.
He felt elated and relieved. The ranch had almost slipped through his fingers, but it was back. It was a close call, but, thanks to Amber, there was a positive outcome. Luke was thrilled that he and his brothers were able to preserve and protect his family’s legacy.
Later, Luke would have to tell Big Dan that he was out and the Beaumont brothers were in. Even though Big Dan didn’t care about the ranch, Luke had a feeling he’d certainly care about the fact that his sons were taking over and going against his wishes.
But Luke and his brothers felt that their mother wouldn’t have wanted to see the ranch go into disrepair. They’d fix it up in honor of her memory.
No matter how they sugar-coated what had just happened in the lobby of the courthouse, Luke dreaded his father’s reaction.
* * *
As ASSIGNED BY Captain Fitz, Amber had to direct traffic safely out of the courthouse parking lot onto Main Street. She stood in the middle of the street, dividing the traffic into those turning right and those turning left to quickly clear out the parking lot. It was one of those boring jobs that the other deputies hated, and the Cap felt that was perfect for her.
But she wasn’t going to feel down. She’d just done a fabulous deed in keeping the Beaumont Ranch in the hands of the Beaumonts and away from the hands of outside investors.
“Well, if it ain’t my daughter the sergeant. What is our pillar of justice doing now?”
Her father, dressed in greasy coveralls, a greasy baseball cap and greasy sneakers, slapped the back of her crisp white uniform blouse with a hand.
“I’m directing traffic, Dad. Can’t you see? Get to the curb. You can’t be here in the middle of the traffic with me.”
“I’ll take full responsibility, Sergeant.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She positioned her arms to direct drivers. “What brings you downtown?”
“I had to go to the license place.”
That did her heart good. He was doing something according to the law.
“If I didn’t get my license, you can bet you cops would be all over me.”
“And I’d be leading the charge,” Amber said, blowing her whistle at a particularly fast car. “Slow down! Tell me what you want, Dad. I’m a little busy here, and, again, I don’t want you to get hurt in this traffic.”
“I never get a chance to see you, daughter.”
“Dad!” She blew her whistle at another car. “Spill it or get to the sidewalk and we’ll talk later.”
“I want you to move back home to the bosom of your family.”
“The what?” She laughed. “You mean you want me to cook, clean and keep the law off your back.”
He shrugged. “Guilty. Will you come home?”
“When pigs fly, Dad.” She knew her father was teasing her, but she’d never leave her cute apartment over the Happy Tea Pot and China Shop unless she was moving out of town for a state police job. “Now get to the sidewalk, please.”
“Come over for dinner and we’ll discuss. Kyle is picking up some chicken and ribs and those corn muffins that you like from Smokin’ Sammy’s House of Hickory.”
Yum. She did like Smokin’ Sammy’s.
“I’ll come over for dinner. Thanks for the invitation.” She smiled. He was so transparent. He knew it, and she knew it. “But I don’t want any talk of me moving in. Wait a minute, you’re not still moonshining, are you?”
He didn’t answer, but she held up traffic while he walked to the sidewalk. He clutched at his heart. “Amber—I mean, Sergeant Chapman, how can you ask me such a thing? I’m as pure as the newly fallen snow.”
She laughed at his theatrics. Her father could always make her laugh.
“What about my brothers?”
“The same. They ain’t making moonshine.”
“They’d better not be!”
“Six o’clock?”
“I’ll be there, Dad.”
The traffic had dwindled to a few cars. It was then that she saw Luke Beaumont exit the courthouse and walk to the lot.
He waved to her and she walked toward him.
“What luck, huh?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“That you had to ask those three guys to leave because of the fire code.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“I found out that they were going to bid on the ranch. I’m not sure I could have outbid them. That was a close one.”
“Good.” Amber nodded. “I’m very happy for you.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t know that the Beaumont Sheriff’s Department were sticklers for fire code violations.”
“Oh. We are. Absolutely. It’s very important to enforce all codes as that are on the books.”
That sounded pompous, but she didn’t want Luke to think that he was receiving special treatment from her because he was a Beaumont.
Nor did she want him to think she had helped him because she was some kind of devoted fan.
She did it for the town.
“I’m off duty, Luke. Do you need a ride?”
“Since I taxied right from the airport, I was going to hitchhike to visit my father in rehab, but I’m not ready to deal with him yet. Would you mind driving me out to the ranch? Hopefully my truck is there and working, and I can drive up and see my dad later, but, yeah, I’d appreciate a ride home. Thanks.”
She radioed Dispatch that she was off duty and pointed to her cherry-red Honda CRV. “That’s my car.”
They walked to her car and Amber clicked open the locks. “Hop in.”
Chapter Four (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953)
It was about fifteen miles to the ranch; most of it was highway except for the last five. They made small talk about the weather, bull riding and the town in general. Amber was careful not to talk about the condition of his ranch. Luke would see it soon enough.
“What happened to the entry arch?” he asked as they arrived.
“Hurricane Daphne. The storm is responsible for pretty much everything.”
“Hmm...the entry arch is the first thing I’m going to fix.”
It contained the logo of the Beaumont Ranch, five ornate B’s in a circle for Big Dan, Valerie Lynn and their three boys. It was made of wrought iron, from what Amber remembered, and every vehicle and pedestrian passed under that arch.
Obviously, it bothered Luke that the symbol of his family was on the ground.
“Hang on.” He got out of her car and pulled the arch to the side of the driveway.
He got back in and she started up the long drive to the homestead. Luke stuck his head out the window as they passed by several outbuildings in need of repair.
“Dammit!” he shouted. “Look at those wrecked buildings.”
“I’m sorry, Luke.”
The homestead came into sight. The roof had collapsed in the middle and the land that used to be around it was either bare or choked with weeds. Amber remembered beautiful flowers around the home—Valerie Lynn Beaumont had had a green thumb—but whatever had once bloomed had vanished. The portico had collapsed, twisted, and was hanging on by a couple of thick boards someone had propped up against the main portion.
“That has to be replaced,” Luke said.
Two of the big picture windows had also blown out and were covered by sheets of plywood.
The whole place was in need of paint, but that was probably the least of his problems. He had yet to look inside. There was no need for a key. The door was half off its hinges.
“Let’s go in, Amber. I might as well see inside.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stay here.”
“C’mon with me. Please.”
She got the impression that he didn’t want to be alone when he saw the condition of the homestead that had been in his family for generations.
“Okay,” she finally said, feeling like she was intruding on something private. Something that was strictly reserved for the family that belonged there.
Too bad she didn’t have the same feelings about the sad little bungalow in the middle of a junkyard. That was just a place where her parents fought about everything from rusted car parts to illegal moonshine.
When she looked around at the inside of the Beaumont ranch house, she wanted to cry.
Magnificent Stickley furniture had warped and was unsalvageable except as firewood. Fabulous blankets and baskets were covered in mud. Actually, the whole floor was warped and muddy. The beehive fireplace in the middle of the room had cracked and the remnants had fallen to the ground. Black mold crept up the walls.
It broke her heart to see family treasures destroyed. Some might be able to be saved, but most of what she’d seen would have to be trashed.
There were pictures and portraits of some long-ago Beaumonts. Some were intact, some had watermarks and were bulging out of their frames.
Amber turned to Luke, whose mood seemed to be alternating between sad and mad.
She wanted to hug him, but felt that was too forward. They’d only been high school acquaintances, nothing more. She hoped he didn’t know that she’d had a crush on him since Mrs. Maloney’s first grade.
So here she was at thirty years old without having a serious boyfriend at the present.
Most of the time, she was too focused on her career. She was devoted to keeping Beaumont a safe place for everyone to live, in which children would thrive.
To that end, she coached mixed teams of soccer, softball and basketball, and led the Beaumont children’s chorus and drama club.
She divided her marriage “close calls” into three categories, although there were probably more. The cops were too full of themselves and moved on to their next conquests; the adventurers were too hyper and moved on; and the playboy types found younger women.
They all left her about when they figured out she was more devoted to the job than to them. But they always parted as friends, having mutually enjoyed themselves.
It would only take four steps to walk in Luke’s direction and wrap him in a comforting hug.
Sergeant Amber Chapman, who had arrested some of the worst criminals in the county, had to decide if she was woman enough to embrace Luke Beaumont or stay rooted where she was like a big blue chicken with a badge.
* * *
OH!
Luke took a step back in pure shock when he saw Amber’s face and noticed her arms move. It seemed like she was about to cry and hug him at the same time.
No way. He had to be wrong. She didn’t even like him. But maybe she was feeling sorry for him.
That was it!
But he didn’t want any pity. Not from Amber Chapman; not from anyone.
The Beaumonts would pick themselves up by their bootstraps and put things right, even if they had to ride every rank bull from here to Australia and everywhere in between to get the money to rebuild.
The Beaumont Ranch would be restored to its former self.
“I’m not going to rest until there are cattle on the hill again, rank rough stock in the field and prize horses in the barns. And the ranch house will be just like my mother left it.”
He didn’t realize that he spoke the words out loud until Amber replied, “Good for you, Luke. Don’t forget to hire the town people back. They’ve worked hard for the Beaumonts. You don’t know the half of it.”
He looked around and saw the boarded-up windows and remembered the propped-up portico. “I think I do.”
Outside, he heard yelling and shouting and the tinny sound of cowbells ringing.
“What’s that?” he asked, walking over to the front door.
Amber followed him. “I hear it, too.”
On the way, Amber disturbed a pyramid of beer cans. Some thin, white rolling papers, which were sprinkled on the floor, attached themselves to her foot. Remnants of the kids’ parties, she assumed.
Luke upset a drawer full of mice and they scattered like pool balls all over the room.
What a mess his home had become.
The noise outside became louder. It was several of the townspeople leading horses, bulls and cows and more toward the house.
“Welcome home, Luke!” shouted a man in a rumpled cowboy hat and a poncho, leading a gigantic bull.
“We’re glad you won the auction. Hope you’re staying and fixing the place up, Luke.”
Luke recognized the neighbor from his position on the porch where the front door used to be. “I am, Santiago. I am. My brothers and I will be working hard this summer to restore the old place.”
“Good!” Santiago grinned and cheers went up, loud enough to spook a couple of horses.
Amber arrived next to him, and he moved over so she could see. He slipped an arm around her waist to steady her.
“This is your stock that we are bringing back, Luke. We kept the animals for you—the ones that Mr. Beaumont gave to us. Big Dan—he just doesn’t care,” said Michelle Goldsmith, another neighbor.
“I know.” Luke nodded.
“We’ve been taking care of them until someone returned. They are yours now,” Santiago said.
Luke shook his head. “I can’t thank you enough, but you all should keep them. You’ve been providing for them, so they should be yours.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Michelle said. “We’ll put some of the horses in the paddock and the rest in the pasture. All right? No arguing with us, Luke.”
“I feel so...humbled,” he whispered, and he doubted if anyone could hear him. Well, maybe Amber heard. He glanced at her and knew that she’d definitely heard. She was wiping away tears,
“What a beautiful thing to do,” she said, her voice cracking.
Luke felt his own eyes stinging at such a caring gesture, even after Big Dan had left them without jobs.
He swallowed hard. “Thank you, my friends. For once, I am speechless.”
“More will be returned when word gets out that you’re back. By the way, nice riding in Billings,” said Slim Gomez, the long-term foreman of the Beaumont Ranch.
Luke nodded. “When I’m done getting the house fixed up, we are going to have a barbecue the likes of which Beaumont has never seen.”
Amber let out a little squeal. She must be a woman who liked her barbecue.
Then he noticed that Amber suddenly swayed and was about to fall on some stacked boards probably from the portico. Rusty nails peppered the boards.
Luke caught her. It was as if he was dipping her at the end of a dance. Not that he ever did that, but it was good to know that he could do it!
He stared into her stunning green eyes. They were round with surprise.
“You were going to fall,” he explained, barely breathing. She felt so good in his arms.
“I-I know. You can let me up now. Someone is giving us a wolf whistle outside.”
“Sure.”
He let her up and looked back at the parade of animals in front of him. “Need help?” he asked.
“Uh...no. You can go back to what you were doing.” Florence, who owned nearby Star S, laughed.
Everyone joined in laughing.
“Is that Sergeant Chapman?” Florence asked.
Amber waved to her from a more secure position. “Yes, Flo. It’s Amber.”
“Good for you. Carry on.” Florence gave her two thumbs-up.
Luke noticed that Amber’s face was turning a bright pink.
“Don’t mind them,” Luke said.
She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “Um, I’m not.”
Luke pointed to another group walking up the driveway. “I’d better go help them, Amber. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course. Go ahead and get the animals situated.”
He had so much to do, it got his blood pumping, just like when he rode bulls. He’d always loved ranch work and to be home for a while with a list of improvements and to be surrounded by friends—well, he was going to enjoy every minute.
And it felt so natural to hold Amber in his arms and look deep into her green eyes. If he didn’t know any better, by the way she studied his lips in anticipation, he’d think that she was interested in him.
But he knew better. Amber didn’t have much use for him. In fact, she had to drag him back to Beaumont in order for him to take care of his legacy.
“I’d better buy some feed and hay,” he said, thinking out loud.
Amber checked her watch. “You have to eat, too. How about dinner at the crazy Chapman household in a couple of hours? One of my brothers is picking up barbecue.”
“I’ve been thinking of just that. Thanks. I’d love to.” He jumped from the opening, as if he were a superhero, and was gone.
* * *
LOOKING AROUND, AMBER found a broom in the kitchen pantry and a box of garbage bags. Perfect. She might as well help out while Luke was tending to his stock.
The first thing she was going to do was to change from her uniform. She had workout gear in her car. That’d do.
Then she was going to get rid of the chickens and mice, right the furniture and sweep. The big, thick Mexican tiles needed to be washed several times, but they had to be swept first.
So, what was she doing helping Luke?
She had a feeling that he was overwhelmed. Bringing some of the stock back could have waited until tomorrow, but these were the animals that Big Dan hadn’t sold. He’d just told his workers to help themselves. He probably hadn’t counted on them being taken care of and brought back.
That’s what friends are for.
Amber swept all the trash by the beer cans. Anything with fur or feathers, she scooted out the back door the best she could.
A cat ran into the room and perched itself on top of the couch as if it had done the same thing many times before.
Cautiously, she approached the gray and black cat. It wore a collar and let her pet it, so it wasn’t feral. Her tag showed that her name was Miss Kitty. “Okay, Miss Kitty, clear out the mice, please.”
The cat sat there like a princess, cleaning her paws. “Let’s go, Miss Kitty.”
Nothing.
She abandoned the idea of any help from the cat and went back to sweeping.
All the water-stained pictures she put into a garbage bag with the intention of telling Luke that there was a fabulous restorer at the Beaumont Historical Society who could probably do wonders with them. She filled three garbage bags with pictures and loaded them into the back of her SUV.
Amber opened windows that were still intact and let the place air out.
She was just sweeping the dust, dirt and fallen chunks of plaster into the last garbage bag when Luke scared her by vaulting back into the room.
“Amber! Thanks so much, but you didn’t have to do all that work.” He looked around. “What a difference! There might be hope for the place yet.”
“You can fix everything up, Luke. You and your brothers. And I’ll help. So will my brothers. After all, I brought you back here. And as long as you can supply lumber, paint, nails and shingles, your friends and neighbors will help, too.”
“Thanks. Thanks for everything. Now, let’s go to your family’s house and have barbecue. I’m starving.”
“Help me shut the windows and we’ll go,” Amber said.
“Leave them open. I’ll stay here tonight.”
“You can’t, Luke. Black mold. It’s not healthy.”
“Then I’ll take a look at the bunkhouse. Maybe that fared better.”
The bunkhouse wasn’t much better. The floor was slimy and the mattresses were mildewed.
“Let’s check out the barn. I could sleep in one of the stalls.”
The barn was on higher ground, but all the ruined hay had to be removed. The cobwebs hung like Christmas tinsel, and the spiders were busy making their webs. There was a hole in the barn roof.
She shuddered thinking of all the spiders dropping on her like rain from the sky. “Let’s get out of here, Luke.”
The barn had to be readied for the horses as soon as humanly possible.
He shrugged, taking it all in stride. “I’ll tent outside. I think our old camping supplies are here somewhere. You know us cowboys. Nothing like sleeping under the stars.”
Amber almost snorted, but changed it in mid-snort to a fake cough. She’d bet her next paycheck that a bull riding star like Luke Beaumont hadn’t slept in less than a three-star hotel in several years.
He opened a wooden cabinet and fished out a forest-green nylon bag—probably his tent—a couple of rolled-up sleeping bags and a lantern.
She was just about to invite him to stay at her apartment on the couch, but she couldn’t form the words. It was just too soon.
Her face heated. That was a dumb thing to even think. Why would she even think about inviting him to stay with her?
Maybe she was just too scared to get close to Luke. Her past record with men was like throwing nothing but gutter balls on the bowling alley of life.
“Isn’t there any other place you can stay?” she asked.
“My father’s in rehab, so I can’t stay with him. He has an apartment in town, but it’s a senior citizen place and they have rules. And I’ve pretty much lost touch with my gang from high school and college. It’s hard to keep in touch with my friends when I’m never home.”
“I imagine it would be.”
He chuckled. “But once in a while, someone from home shows up in my autograph line.”
She noticed that he didn’t refer to her as a friend.
Amber didn’t know why that tweaked her. So what if he didn’t consider her one? She would rather consider herself a friend of the town of Beaumont.
Some friend she was. She couldn’t wait to get out of Beaumont and get a job with the state police.
“You can’t stay here,” she blurted. “Go to the Beaumont House. It’s been updated and it’s quite a nice hotel now.”
“I’d rather stick around here. Besides, I don’t know if my old truck is working to go back and forth to get supplies and to visit Big Dan.”
“Let’s give your truck a try,” she said. “I could always give it a jump.”
But no matter what they did, the ancient, faded red Ford 150 truck wouldn’t start.
She checked her watch. “Let’s get going over to my father’s house, Luke. You have to be hungry.”
He slammed the hood shut. “I don’t suppose you’re getting the barbecue from—”
“Smokin’ Sammy’s House of Hickory?”
“Yeehaw! It’s been a long time since I’ve had Smokin’ Sammy’s.”
“One of my brothers is picking it up,” Amber advised, pointing to her car. “There will be plenty, but let’s get going. That is, unless you’d rather not go to the Chapman lair.”
Luke stopped walking and pushed back his cowboy hat with his thumb. “Why would you say that?”
“Our families never got along. Let’s face it. The Beaumonts are the town’s leading citizens and the Chapmans lived on the other side of the tracks.”
“We were busy ranching and your family was busy—”
“Moonshining,” she said. “And selling hot car parts.”
Amber continued to be embarrassed by her family. She hated the jokes that inevitably came her way and supposed she should have laughed along, but she didn’t find them funny.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Everyone knows. And everyone enjoyed our moonshine, including the—”
“Beaumonts.” Luke grinned. “The Chapmans make the best moonshine.”
“Made the best moonshine. Past tense. My father and brothers are out of the business.”
Amber opened the door of her red Honda and Luke went around the front to the passenger side. “I really appreciate you driving me around.”
Amber started her car. “After dinner, if you’d like, I’ll take you to see your father.”
“No. You’ve done enough. I’ll hitchhike over.”
“Hitchhiking is illegal in Beaumont County,” she said in her best cop voice.
“It’s really not a problem. You could always rent a car at Willie Greenfield’s when he opens in the morning until you get your wheels working.”
“Sounds like a plan. Good idea.”
She laughed. “I got a million good ideas for you.”
Chapter Five (#uef810a4d-3d57-5a5f-871c-2f4d9356d953)
Luke had to look twice to locate the Chapman place.
It had gotten much worse since the last time he’d been home.
The sad-looking ranch house sat in the middle of a junkyard just inside the Beaumont town limits. In fact, when people read the Welcome to Beaumont sign, the first thing on their left was the Chapman place.
It looked like it needed a couple coats of paint, which should be easy judging by the rows of rusted paint cans dotting a little patch of lawn. Junk cars and shelving units stuffed with car parts dwarfed the house.
Ninety-nine point nine percent of the town looked on this junkyard as a blight on the historic, nice-looking town. It was common knowledge that several townspeople kept an eye on the tax rolls, hoping that Marv Chapman would slip up and not pay his taxes. Then they could buy the house at auction and level everything.
Funny, now the Beaumont Ranch, which spread its acres behind the town like a benevolent kingdom, was a blight in its present condition, too.
Thinking of the two families made him feel miserable. How ironic it was that his father was an alcoholic and Amber’s father made booze. Maybe he should have befriended Amber earlier, in high school, but it had never crossed his mind, a mind full of riding bulls and gold belt buckles.
Neither of them was like their father, and they both had to bear the emotional scars.
“You know, Luke. I was just thinking... My brothers are pretty good with a hammer. Maybe they can help you rebuild.”
It was just on Luke’s lips that charity begins at home, but he had no right to say such a thing. Then it dawned on him that it would bring him closer to Amber, and he liked that idea. Then again, he hated to ask for help.
“Thanks. But I don’t want to bother them. They probably have better things to do.”
“That’s what we do here in Beaumont,” she said. “We help our neighbors.”
“I can pay as long as our money lasts and my brothers keep winning.”
She turned off her car. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but I think that a guy should be paid for his labor.”
“And I think that neighbors should help neighbors. You can provide the food and drink.”
He nodded as he waited for Amber to lead the way up the rotted stairs to the front door of her father’s house.
She pointed. “Watch this rotted lumber.” She stepped over the offensive boards.
“Got it.”
On the front porch, she knocked on the door then walked in. “I brought us some company.”
“Why, Luke Beaumont.” Marv Chapman pulled him into what Luke assumed was the family room. “Welcome.”
He shook his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Chapman.”
Amber gave her father a hug. “I brought Luke with me. He just got the ranch back at auction, and he’s going to be hanging around town for a while fixing it up.”
“Great to see you, Luke. Sorry about your ranch,” Marv said. “Me and the boys hung up some plywood on your windows. Hope it did some good.”
“I have you to thank?” he asked. “I really appreciate it.”
“You have Amber to thank. She nagged us until we did it.”
He looked over at Amber. She was shifting on her feet and looking uncomfortable.
He had her to thank for a lot of things. If she hadn’t come to the autographing, the developers from Texas would be the new owners of the Beaumont Ranch.
There was so much more to her than the girl he once knew, and he’d like to get to know her better. He already knew that she had principles and loved Beaumont, and followed bull riding. They had that in common.
“Sit down, Luke. Sit down.” Amber pointed to a chair.
He had to step around a motor hanging from a rack. After he sat, he saw hundreds of wooden crates containing canning jars in various sizes.
Amber must have noticed his surprise. “They’re not moonshining anymore,” Amber said again, apparently feeling the need to explain. “So, then, Dad, what the hell are all those jars doing here?”
“Storage. I’m simply storing them for now.”
“I swear, Dad. If you are moonshining, I will—”
“Amber, stop. Will you quit being a cop for a while and just enjoy the evening with your family and Luke?”
“I can’t. I know my family and what they’re capable of. That’s why Mom isn’t here. Don’t you get that?”
Marv Chapman swore under his breath and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Sorry, Luke. It’s just our usual disagreement that we have to go through. I accuse and Dad denies. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine. Matter of fact, when we visit my father later, I’ll bet that our disagreement will make yours seem like a little speed bump.”
Her father returned with a six-pack of beer. “I also have soda,” Marv said. “But the beer is nice and cold. Luke?”
“A beer sounds good to me.”
Luke popped the top and just about drained the can. It was cold and refreshing, and he didn’t realize how thirsty he was.
There was a commotion on the porch and Amber’s three brothers came crashing in. Luke remembered the ribbing they’d given him in high school. They’d continually called him the “Prince of Beaumont” and “Your Majesty.” There was more, but he didn’t want to go there. He remembered Amber telling them to be quiet, and she tried to move them along, but they’d pulled out of her grasp and shushed her as if she were a bothersome fly.
Maybe the Chapman Clowns—what he’d immaturely used to call them—had grown up.
The Chapman brothers each carried takeout bags. “Well, if it isn’t Luke, Prince of Beaumont,” said Ronnie.
Some things never change.
Mr. Chapman gestured with his hand. “You know my boys, Aaron, Ronnie and Kyle?”
Luke nodded. “Sure I do.”
There were handshakes all around—strong, manly, hand-pumping handshakes.
Luke couldn’t figure out if it was a show of strength or if they were actually glad to see him.
He’d never hung around with the Chapman brothers in school, all three were younger than he was, but he knew their reputation throughout the years. He remembered that Big Dan had hired them to work as barn hands, stating that they needed legitimate jobs. But when they’d learned they could make more money selling hooch than shoveling manure, they’d quickly quit.
“How ya doing, Your Majesty?” Kyle asked.
Aaron was not to be outdone. “We are your three humble subjects, Majesty.”
Ugh!
“How’ve you all been?” he asked. “It’s been a while.”
“You’re the one who has been shaking up the PBR. You’re riding hot.” Ronnie pumped his fist.
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