Page 31 of The Cowboy Comes Home

Lily Highwater gave him a curious look, but answered. “He was hit by a vehicle and killed, about three blocks from here.”

He’d half expected to hear the man had been shot by some fleeing criminal, or worse. But then again… “Intentional?”

“No. It was complicated, but they’re certain now it was an accident.” She lifted a brow at him. “That was an interesting question.”

“Just…curious.”

“About the life—and death—of a cop?”

He shrugged, avoiding answering. And poking the sore spot.

“Anything to do with the fact you spent a lot of last night chatting with our own lovely Emily Stratton, another hero?”

He nearly gaped at her then. Or maybe he really did. “That Last Stand grapevine needs to come with a warning label.”

“Grape!” little Steven shouted, startling Tucker even more.

“Ah. The hungry bell rings,” Lily said with a smile at the child that was so loving it tightened Tucker’s throat a little. “Why don’t I stop by the Baylor ranch this afternoon, and we’ll chat?” She gave him a smile that made him think he had a clue how the kid felt. “You can always change your mind. I’m good that way.”

“I…” Tucker wasn’t sure what impulse made him say it, but the word was out before he could stop. “Okay.”

As she went off to address that hungry bell, Tucker watched them go with an odd sensation he couldn’t name welling up inside him. It was unsettling. He wondered just how much he was going to regret saying yes to her interview.

Determinedly he started walking again, the same way he’d been going before that statue had caught him. The wine-tasting room on the corner wasn’t open at this early hour, which he supposed was wise. Next was the western wear shop, whimsically named Yippee Ki Yay. It made him smile, thinking of Jackson’s “acceptance hat,” as Nic called it.

A rack of leather belts caught his eye, beautifully carved with intricate detail, with everything from horses to bluebonnets, and trimmed with gracefully done metal buckles. He knew without looking these had to be Rylan Rafferty works, which Tris had told him about. Which also meant the gleaming, intricate buckles were Logan’s work.

He gazed at them for a long moment, and it warmed him down deep. They had found such happiness here, these dear friends of his, each of them in different ways. And that in turn made him happy. At least, as happy as he was capable of.

Maybe there was something magical about this place, or at the least a layer of good fortune as thick as the spring covering of those bluebonnets.

Laughing at his own fanciful thoughts, he walked on, continuing his tour, wondering if that magic would ever spread to someone who didn’t already have a connection here.

And he couldn’t help that, when that thought formed, the first image that flashed into his mind was Emily.

Chapter Fifteen

Emily stood inthe briefing room reading the overnights—reports of any activity that might need following up on today. She was scheduled for the walking beat this afternoon, something that the chief insisted every officer take periodically, to stay in touch with the local businesses. And this week it was upped to two a day, morning and afternoon, because it was rodeo week. The hubbub was bigger and louder when it was on a weekend, but when it hit mid-week the uproar went on all week. Hence the double patrols. Plus at night everybody was either out or on call. Including the chief himself.

Emily didn’t mind the foot patrols. She liked walking up and down Main Street and its feeders to see what was new. It would be good for Lobo, too. Not just to get him more used to walking among crowds but to make up to him for being left at home while she’d gone out to the saloon. At the thought her mind wanted to careen off in just one direction. Tucker Culhane. As if she hadn’t obsessed enough about him last night. Practically all night.

She made herself shift back to the dog. He had the run of her fairly spacious two-story town house, and when she’d come home she knew from a slight fur deposit that he’d been snoozing on the couch. And that had made her smile, because at first he’d been too restless and nervous in this new-to-him place.

She looked down at the big shepherd lying patiently at her feet and smiled. “Good boy. Just let me make a couple of notes on things I want to check out today, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Add a stop at the Carriage House to your list, will you?”

She’d heard somebody step into the room but hadn’t looked up, wanting to finish that last incident report. But when she heard the voice of the chief, her head snapped up. It wasn’t unusual for him to be here on the weekend, but the frequency of that had dropped since he and Lily had gotten married, and especially since little Steven had been born.

“Of course,” she said immediately. “What’s up?”

He took a sip of coffee from the mug he held. “Just wanted to let them know that kid who broke the window will be turning up Monday morning to start that work they agreed would suffice.”

Emily knew the chief had negotiated that, and quietly agreed with his assessment that having to play busboy and janitor during rodeo week would probably get through to the kid, whereas a couple of days in the juvenile lockup over in Fredericksburg would have just made him mad and sullen. The kid would be kept occupied, and the Carriage House could avoid at least one extra hire during the crazy week ahead.

“I’ll deliver the message. Happily.” She tilted her head slightly to study her boss for a moment before she said, “You missed the gathering last night.”

There had been a time, she knew, when the chief and his brother avoided anything more than necessary contact. They’d spent a lot of their childhood and into adulthood in sibling conflict. But that had changed, quite visibly, since the women they loved had come into their lives, and their long-lost and searched-for brother had finally come home.

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