Taming a Texas Devil (Bad Boy Ranch Book 5) Page 5

  “What’s the job, sir?”

  “I got a call from Senator Meriwether. I guess his daughter has decided to become a sheriff’s deputy and he’s worried about her. He says you’re helping her with some missing persons case and asked if you could keep a close eye on his baby girl. I told him that wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Well, hell.

  Chapter Five

  “You’re really pretty.”

  Dixie glanced over at Cheyenne. The young girl looked a lot more comfortable in the front seat of the sheriff’s SUV than she had in the back seat. Of course, that could have to do with Queenie sitting on her lap. Animals soothed people. Especially kids. “Thank you, sugar. So are you.”

  Cheyenne shook her head as she stroked the cat’s head. “No I’m not. I have ugly hair and an ugly body and ugly . . . everything.”

  Dixie smiled. “I can remember feeling the same way when I was around your age. Every time I looked in the mirror, I found something else wrong with me. I think it has to do with all those puberty hormones racing around inside you.”

  “And my mama’s bad genes.”

  “Who said they were bad? Why, I would kill for those long eyelashes of yours and your full lips. Half my makeup time is spent applying mascara and lip plumper.”

  “I don’t wear makeup.”

  “My daddy didn’t want me wearing it either when I was your age. Of course, I finally talked him into it. Daddies will give their little girls just about anything if we work hard enough at it.”

  “It’s not that.” Cheyenne picked at a hole in the knee of her jeans. “I don’t want to ask my dad for the money when makeup is so expensive.”

  And so were tampons. Which was probably another reason Cheyenne had stolen them. Dixie was more than a little mad at herself for not figuring that out sooner. Instead of being scared about having to deal with a shoplifter, she should have assessed the situation and put two and two together.

  Like Lincoln had.

  The man really was Sherlock Holmes. A sexy Sherlock Holmes with a soft spot that had surprised Dixie. And kind of turned her on. The mixture of tough badass on the outside and mushy marshmallow on the inside was a heady combination. As was a bad boy turning into a Texas Ranger. She wondered if he had any bad boy tendencies left . . . like maybe in the bedroom. She doubted it. He seemed way too straitlaced. But it was an intriguing thought.

  “You’re going to tell my daddy about me shoplifting, aren’t you?” Cheyenne cut into her thoughts.

  Dixie didn’t want to tattle on the sweet teenager, but Lincoln was right. “If I don’t, he’ll just hear it from the townsfolk. It would be much better if he were to hear it from me. Or better yet, you.”

  “Do I have to tell him what I stole? I mean, he gets real flustered when he tries to talk to me about girl things.”

  Dixie cringed at the thought of what it would’ve been like if she’d had to talk to own father about puberty. Her mama had handled all those delicate subjects. In fact, her father hadn’t really talked to Dixie about anything but her grades and how she was doing in school. Senator Meriwether hadn’t wanted a girl. He’d wanted a boy. He loved Dixie. She never doubted that. But he’d never known quite what to do with her. Until recently, when he’d decided if he couldn’t have a son follow in his footsteps, he’d have to settle for his daughter doing it. And maybe that’s why she didn’t want to go to law school. She was terrified of disappointing her father.

  Just like Cheyenne.

  “If your daddy gets embarrassed just talking about feminine hygiene products, then he should understand completely why you didn’t want to ask him for them,” Dixie said. “And maybe it will make him a little more aware of your needs.” She paused. “What happened to your mama, honey?”

  Cheyenne pressed her lips together as she picked a bigger hole in the knee of her jeans. “She ran off when I was little.”

  The poor kid’s story just kept getting worse and worse. Dixie’s heart broke for her. “And it’s just been you and your daddy ever since?”

  “He had a girlfriend when we lived in Abilene, but then my grandma got sick and we had to move here to help her out. She passed a few months back and Dad’s been looking for another job in Abilene. Until he finds one, he’s been fixing people’s cars here since we have Granny’s trailer to live in.”

  Granny’s trailer wasn’t much. As soon as Dixie saw it, she knew Cheyenne hadn’t been lying about their money issues. The trailer was small and old. But it looked like it was also well cared for. The siding was painted a soft green while the trim and wooden steps leading up to the door were painted a darker jade. The rose bushes in front were pruned and a big oak shaded most of the yard where a beat-up pickup truck was parked with its hood up.

  “My dad’s home,” Cheyenne said with more than a little dread in her voice.

  Dixie pulled in behind the truck. “Don’t worry, honey. Dealing with daddies is one of my specialties. Now keep looking just like you’re looking—scared and on the verge of tears—and let me do all the talking.”

  As they climbed out of the SUV, a man with sandy hair and kind eyes peeked around the open hood of the truck. He first looked at Dixie, then at his daughter. Cheyenne’s guilty expression must’ve cued him in that this wasn’t a social call.

  “What happened, Cheyenne Danielle?” he asked. Poor man had to deal with losing his mama and finding a job. Now the cops had brought home his teenage daughter. Dixie vowed right then and there to make this as easy as possible on him.

  She pinned on a bright smile. “Hi, Mr. Daily.” She held out a hand. “Deputy Dixie Meriwether.”

  He pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped off his hands before taking hers for a brief shake. “Cal Daily. Nice to meet you.” He looked between her and his daughter. “What’s going on, Deputy? Is there a problem?”

  “Just a tiny one, but not anything to get too concerned about. I’m so sorry to hear about your mama. God bless the mamas of the world and may she rest in peace.”

  “Thank . . . you.” He glanced at Cheyenne who was still cuddling Queenie close. “What kind of problem? And where did you get that cat?”

  “It’s my . . . official deputy cat. And there’s really no problem. Just typical kids’ antics. Nothing to get upset about. I’m going to let Cheyenne tell you all about it later. Right now, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to help me out. Cheyenne mentioned that you worked on cars and I happen to be in desperate need of a mechanic. My patrol car seems to be making this weird pinging noise.”

  He hesitated for a second before he nodded. “Sure. I can take a look at it. Just pop the hood.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t found what was causing the pinging noise, but Dixie had regaled him with some of her funniest pageant stories and had him grinning like a fool.

  “I’ve heard some amusing stories in my life—especially when I worked as a bartender at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s in my early twenties—but I never thought the funniest stories would come from beauty pageants.” He slammed the hood closed. “And here I thought those women did nothing but fight.”

  “There were a few of those, but mostly we got along like sorority sisters. Being in a beauty pageant is hard work and stressful and as my mama always says, ‘Family warms the heart, but friends warm your soul.’ Now what do I owe you, Mr. Daily?”

  “Please call me Cal. And not a thing. I couldn’t find the ping.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You took the time to look and I get a certain amount from the county for upkeep on my vehicle anyway.”

  He paused. “I tell you what. You could use an oil change and the fluids refilled. Bring it by here next week and I’ll give it a more thorough check. We’ll find that pinging yet.”

  She doubted it. “I think we’ve got us a deal, Cal. Now I better get going. A deputy’s job is never done.”

  He wiped his hands off on the rag and squinted at her. “I guess you aren’t going to tell me what has Cheyenne looking like a dog on
bath day.”

  She glanced over at Cheyenne, who was sitting on the front steps cuddling Queenie and looking forlorn. “Nope, that’s her job. But I will say this. I think she’s learned her lesson so I wouldn’t be too hard on her.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Deputy Meriwether.”

  “Dixie. Call me Dixie.”

  He smiled. “Thanks for bringing her home, Dixie.” He paused. “I thought you were a lot like Sheriff Willaby. He’s had it out for me since I came back to Simple. I can’t move without the man pulling me over for one trivial thing or another. But you’re nothing like him.”

  “I take that as the highest compliment.” She leaned in and whispered. “Just don’t tell him I said so.”

  By the time Dixie collected Queenie and had her strapped in her kitty car seat, Cal was talking with Cheyenne. Like any guilty girl, Cheyenne was crying. Like any good daddy, Cal pulled her into his arms and held her close. It seemed like everything was going to turn out just fine. As Dixie drove away, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d had a part in making things turn out. Even if she hadn’t done anything at all except drive a sweet young thing home and try to put her daddy in a good mood so he wouldn’t be too mad at her. And yet, it felt like she’d done something important.

  Maybe being a deputy wasn’t all that hard. Maybe she should quit hiding in the office and start getting out more.

  On the way out of the trailer park, she noticed the other trailers weren’t kept up as nicely as Cal Daily’s. Most were rusted with cracked windows and broken screen doors. If the yards weren’t filled with weeds, they were filled with tireless vehicles. Dixie had seen poverty before, but never quite this close. It was disconcerting and sad. She wondered if the trailer park had always been this rundown and if the owners were just being facetious when they had named it Lucky Lane.

  Dixie had almost reached the highway when she noticed an old Airstream trailer parked in the last spot. The original metal siding was faded, but still reflected the setting sun like a shiny nickel. A cute red and white striped awning shaded a pair of lawn chairs and a little table with a matching red and white checkered tablecloth. To the left of the table and chairs, a woman in a western shirt, faded jeans, and a cowboy hat was barbecuing on a charcoal grill. The smell of something wonderful wafted in Dixie’s open window and Queenie started meowing.

  Which drew the woman’s attention. When she spotted the sheriff’s cruiser, she waved. Not so much in greeting as in waving Dixie down. As much as Dixie had decided she wasn’t going to hide anymore, she figured it might be best if she pretended she hadn’t seen the woman and keep right on going. But the woman wasn’t going to let that happen. She raced out from under the awning right in front of the SUV, forcing Dixie to come to a dust-spitting halt.

  The woman walked around to Dixie’s open window and pushed back her cowboy hat. Dixie immediately recognized the pixie cute face of the woman.

  “Maisy Sweeney!”

  “Last time I checked.” Maisy grinned, displaying the slight gap between her two front teeth. When Dixie had first met Maisy, she’d wondered why the woman hadn’t had it filled. But as she studied her now, she realized that it didn’t look so bad. In fact, it made Maisy’s smile uniquely hers. “What are you doing out here at the Lucky Lane Trailer Park, Deputy Dixie?” Maisy asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing. I thought you’d left Simple.”

  “I did, but after winning a fat purse at my last rodeo, I decided to take a few weeks off and stop by to see if the sheriff has discovered anything else about Sam.”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Dixie wasn’t about to tell her Sheriff Willaby’s farfetched theory about the Double Diamond boys. “And the sheriff has taken a little vacation and won’t be working on the case for a while.”

  “I heard it was more of a forced leave of absence?”

  Dixie laughed. “I guess there are no secrets in a small town.”

  “That depends. The last time I was here, I couldn’t get any answers from anyone. But as soon as I pulled into town early this morning, people couldn’t stop talking to me. I guess I was considered a stranger at first. Now I’m just Maisy Sweeney, the little gal who took first prize in the mechanical bull competition at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s.”

  “I heard about that. You made every women in town proud.”

  “And probably ticked off a whole lot of men. Some men don’t like to be shown up by a woman. Especially at a sport they think is their own. Maybe that explains why I can’t catch a man to save my soul.”

  Dixie could relate. “Believe me, I get it. There were numerous male cadets at the police academy who thought females had no business being there. Ironically, those men were the first ones to drop out.”

  “My mama always said, ‘The bigger a man’s mouth, the smaller his balls.’”

  Dixie laughed. “And my mama always said, ‘If you can’t catch a man, maybe you’re going after the wrong one.’”

  Maisy grinned. “I think our mamas should meet. And speaking of meat, I need to get back to my kebabs. You’re welcome to join me. I have more than enough.”

  Dixie started to decline, but then the contents of her refrigerator flashed into her brain—along with the image of another night spent watching reality television with only Queenie for company. “Do you like cats?”

  “As much as I love dogs and horses. I’d have a dog or cat now, but my Banjo just passed away and I’m still grieving that sweet mutt.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. Now come on or we’ll be eating charred beef for dinner.”

  Maisy turned out to be as good a hostess as she was a cook. Not only were the steak kebabs and green salad delicious, but so were the margaritas she made to go with them. After the first one, Dixie was feeling relaxed. After the second, she was extremely happy and talkative. They sat in lawn chairs and exchanged stories about bronc riding and beauty pageants. Their life paths couldn’t have been more different. Dixie had been brought up in a big city and Maisy had been brought up in a small town. Dixie’s father was a U.S. senator and Maisy’s stepfather a retired trucker. Dixie played dolls and beauty queens as a kid and Maisy had climbed trees and played sports.

  And yet, they were a lot alike. They had similar southern mamas who wanted to coddle them and they were both single women in Texas who had no desire to get married but would like to meet a nice man to hang out with.

  “It’s my own fault,” Maisy said as she scratched Queenie’s ears. The cat had taken to Maisy and spent most of the night on her lap. “I’m attracted to arrogant rodeo studs. I really need to get out more.”

  “Me too,” Dixie said. “All the men in my social group are trust fund babies or jerks who want some beautiful robot on their arm to wave at the crowds and further their political career.”

  “What about the guys in this town? I’ve seen quite a few hot men around.”

  An image of Lincoln popped into Dixie’s head and she let it swim around in her margarita brain for a moment before she pushed it out. “I don’t really socialize with the people in town.”

  “Why not?”

  Dixie hesitated for a second before she told Maisy the truth. She told her all about her daddy wanting her to be a lawyer and how she had just gone to the police academy to call his bluff and get her inheritance.

  “Wow,” Maisy said. “That’s a pretty desperate move.”

  “I thought he would give in as soon as I signed up, but he’s too darn stubborn.”

  Maisy laughed. “It sounds like he’s not the only one. You have to be pretty stubborn to stick it out for as long as you have. I can’t believe you went through the entire police academy. I heard it’s pretty tough. Especially the physical part.”

  “It really wasn’t that hard. I worked out and trained for hours every day when I was doing pageants. The written tests were the hard part. I’ve never been good at school.”

  “Me either. My mind was always on horses.”

  Dixie only he
sitated for a second before she told Maisy something she had never revealed to anyone. “I’m dyslexic.”

  Maisy smiled at her. “Then you should be damn proud of yourself for graduating college and the academy. That’s amazing. You are smart.”

  It was the first time anyone had ever patted Dixie on the back for being smart and it surprised her . . . and made her feel good.

  “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” she said. “It sounds like you are kicking butt in a man’s sport.”

  Maisy lifted her Solo cup. “To two amazing Texas gals.”

  Dixie lifted her cup and tapped Maisy’s. “Amen!” She went to take a drink, but realized her cup was empty. “Dang. I’m out.”

  “So am I,” Maisy said forlornly. “And there’s not a drop of tequila left in my trailer.”

  Dixie stared at her empty cup for a moment before she perked up. “Then maybe these two amazing Texas girls need to go out for more tequila.”

  Maisy grinned. “And maybe while we’re out we’ll find us some of those hot Simple cowboys.”

  Chapter Six

  “Sleep tight, Doris.” Chester pulled the stall gate closed, then looked at Lincoln and shook his head. “Only Lucas would name a horse Doris Day. I didn’t care for those romantic comedies she did, but she was damn good in Calamity Jane.”

  “My grandmother loved Doris Day movies.” Lincoln gave Chester’s horse Cookie a pat on the withers as he glanced out the open barn door. “Are you sure it’s okay for Lucas to drive into town at night?” Lincoln had been more than a little worried ever since the old cowboy had left in Chester’s truck right after dinner.

  “He’ll be fine,” Chester said. “He’s not night blind like I am. And there’s no keeping him away from his lady love.”

  Lincoln had been more than a little surprised to find out Lucas had a girlfriend. He had thought the two old cowboys loved the bachelor life and were quite content to live their lives without the hassle of a female. “So how long has this thing with Gertrude Dixon been going on?” he asked.