Catch Me a Cowboy (12 page)

His office wasn’t what Shirlene had expected. The big desk and richly upholstered chairs fit, but the posters of kite-flying surfers were completely out of place, as was the small, brightly painted surfboard in one corner.

“I take it you like to surf,” Shirlene said.

“Kite boarding.” He waited for her to take a seat before he sat down in the leather chair behind the big desk. “It’s like surfing, but you can stay out for as long as the wind allows.”

Her gaze locked on the poster above his head. “So if you don’t mind me askin’, what’s a kite-boarding pastor doing in Bramble, Texas?”

“I guess you could say I was blown in this direction.”

Her gaze flickered back to him. “Harsh wind.”

He smiled. “Only if you fight it.” He leaned up and rested his arms on the desk. “So how have you been, Ms. Dalton?”

It was a question a lot of people had been asking lately, and normally Shirlene lied. But she was still worried about that lightning bolt so she stayed as close to the truth as she could.

“As fine as a recently widowed woman can be.” She crossed her legs and flapped a too-small flip flop as she tried to figure out how to get answers without breaking her promise to Mia.

Not that Shirlene had much of a choice. The teenage girl was as devious as she was pathetic. She had no qualms whatsoever about insuring Shirlene’s silence with a little blackmail. It seemed Mia was bright enough to figure out that something wasn’t right when the wealthiest woman in town suddenly showed up on Grover Road. But it wasn’t blackmail that kept Shirlene from calling Sheriff Winslow as much as it was the fear in Mia’s eyes.

It was possible that the kid was acting, but Shirlene doubted it. The best actress in the world couldn’t put on a haunted look like that. Still, she planned to do a little investigating before she made a decision on what to do.

She flashed a bright smile at Pastor Robbins. “So I was thinking about doing some charity work.”

The pastor nodded. “The church can always use volunteers, Ms. Dalton.”

“Actually,” she smiled, “I was thinking more of orphans.”

He blinked. “Here in Bramble?”

“Orphans in Bramble. Now that’s funny, honey.” Could you call a man of the cloth
honey
? She glanced up at the ceiling before continuing. “I was thinking more of Dallas or… Houston.”

Pastor Robbins smiled. “I think homeless children are a wonderful charity to choose, Ms. Dalton. Most short-term childcare facilities are busting at the seams and way understaffed.”

“So what happens to the kids that are put in places like that?” she asked.

“Ideally, they stay there for only a few months until they’re adopted or put in foster homes.”

“And these foster homes, are they nice?”

“Most are.” His gaze moved to the window. “As with all foster programs, there are abuses—hey, isn’t that Jesse?”

Shirlene turned around in time to see a freckled face pressed to the glass. The brown eyes widened before the strawberry-blond head ducked back down. Obviously, her word hadn’t been good enough for Mia.

She looked back at the pastor and shrugged. “Kids,” she said. “So what if someone wanted to be a foster parent for just a little while—say until the kids put in her care were adopted? How would that work?”

Pastor Robbins’s face registered surprise.

Shirlene was pretty surprised herself. It was one thing to want a child of her own and another to be stuck with four ornery kids all at one time—even if it was only short-term. Still, the kids hadn’t run away for nothing,
and Shirlene couldn’t bring herself to send them back to an abusive situation.

It didn’t take long for Pastor Robbins to pull himself together. “I guess the first thing a person would need is an information packet from the Department of Family and Protective Services.” He swiveled his chair toward a filing cabinet. “I think I have one around here somewhere. Of course, anyone wanting to foster children needs to meet certain criteria—they have to be over 21, have a home and be able to provide for a child, and be in good mental and physical health.”

Shirlene frowned. As of now, she had one out of five.

“Here it is.” He pulled out a thick package of paper and handed it across the desk. “After the paperwork is filled out, it needs to be processed—which can take up to a year.”

“A year?”

He nodded. “They’ll have to do a home study. At the earliest, it would be four or five months.”

In four or five months, Shirlene hoped the kids would be settled with a nice family, and she would be settled with a nice chunk of money from the sale of the house.

“Is there any way we could hurry that up?” she asked.

Sympathy filled Pastor Robbins’s eyes. Shirlene wasn’t much on sympathy, but if it helped the kids, she’d live with it.

“I might be able to call a few people and see what I can do,” Pastor Robbins said.

“I sure appreciate the help, Pastor.” She stood and held out a hand.

He got to his feet and cradled her hand between his. “Anytime, Ms. Dalton. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

She flashed a smile. “If there is, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Once outside the double doors, Shirlene hurried around the side of the church just in time to stop a fleeing Jesse.

“Why, you little sneak,” Shirlene said as she reeled him back by his Superman shirt, “what are you doing following me around?”

He jerked free and turned on her, his eyes squinty and mean. “Catchin’ a big fat liar! You told Mia you wouldn’t tell no one!”

“Would you keep it down,” Shirlene hissed. She lifted a hand and waved at Sheriff Winslow, who stood in front of the town hall talking to the mayor. “I didn’t tell anyone. But you can’t expect me to take on four homeless kids without asking a few questions.”

“We ain’t homeless,” the ornery kid huffed. “We had a fine home until you showed up.”

“That’s debatable,” Shirlene said as she walked back to the bench where she’d hooked Sherman’s leash.

The pig snuffled as he got up from the shady spot beneath the bench he’d been sleeping under, then he trotted over to Jesse and prodded the kid with his head until Jesse leaned down and scratched his ears. Obviously, Sherman didn’t believe in holding grudges. Jesse grinned from ear to ear until his gaze landed on Shirlene’s Batman t-shirt, a t-shirt she had been forced to wear when none of Mia’s other shirts had fit her.

“You better not stretch it out,” Jesse grumbled for the umpteenth time that morning.

“And you better quit following me,” Shirlene warned as she tugged Sherman down the street. First things first;
she needed a strong cup of coffee. After she had some caffeine in her system, she’d be able to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, before she could get to Josephine’s, a little pipsqueak of a bank manager came around the corner and almost ran her over.

The pig squealed a warning, and Mr. Peabody jumped back as if bitten.

“I wish you would keep that creature properly penned up, Ms. Dalton,” he said in his uppity voice.

Shirlene stared the man down. “And I wish you would give me back my house, Reggie.”

He looked thoroughly annoyed. “We wouldn’t be in business long, Ms. Dalton, if we forgave every loan.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. Just a little human kindness, is all.”

He cleared this throat. “Well, you’ll have to take that up with Mr. Cates.”

“And I plan to, Reggie. Just as soon as Mr. Cates gets back from his vacation.” She tipped her head. “Where did you say he went?”

“I didn’t.” The man hurried down the street as fast as his little legs would carry him.

“He stole your house?”

Shirlene turned to find Jesse standing behind her. She might’ve given the kid a piece of her mind for eavesdropping if a flash of white hadn’t caught her attention. As she watched the familiar SUV come down the street toward them, she couldn’t help tugging the Rangers cap lower and stepping behind Jesse. Unfortunately, Jesse was no bigger than a gnat, and Beau was more observant then she thought.

The Escalade pulled up to the curb, and the window rolled down.

“Ms. Dalton?”

Since there was no help for it now, Shirlene sucked in her stomach, pushed out Batman, and sashayed over. Except it was hard to sashay in a pair of too-small, worn-out flip-flops.

“I thought we’d gotten past Ms. Dalton.”

He smiled that sexy smile. “Mornin’, Shirlene. It sure looks like it’s going to be another pretty day.”

She sent him a sassy little smirk. “Only if you like your days sizzlin’ and your nights steamy.”

The dazzling smile reconfigured into one a lot more devilish. “A true Texan doesn’t like it any other way.”

Behind her, Jesse snorted. But she chose to ignore the kid.

“So how’s the vacation goin’? Any luck hunting down your ancestors?” she asked.

“No, ma’am, and I’ve pretty much given up.” He stared out the windshield for a few seconds before looking back at her. “You wouldn’t know where a man could go for a little fun in this town, would you?”

She rested a hand on her hip. “I guess that would depend on what your idea of a little fun is.”

He laughed. “How ’bout a little drinkin’, a little dancin’, and a little female companionship?”

“Then Bootlegger’s Bar is your place.”

He squinted up at her. “I don’t suppose you ever go there?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“You think it might happen tomorrow night?”

Since Shirlene already had more than enough on her plate, she probably should’ve turned Beau down. But she had always believed in keeping her options open. And an
attractive man with misty blue eyes was a nice option to have.

“It might,” she said with a slight smile.

Beau grinned from ear to ear before he tipped his hat at her and pulled away from the curb. As Shirlene watched the white SUV drive away, Jesse came up and stood next to her.

“I thought Bubba was your boyfriend.”

Shirlene snorted. “Not likely.”

“Then how come he looks so pissed at you for flirtin’ with that Beau feller?”

Shirlene glanced around, her gaze landing on the man who stood not more than three feet away, his shoulder propped up against the side of the library and his cap pulled low. Jesse was right. Even with the curled brim shading his eyes, Bubba Wilkes looked pissed.

Although his next words were as cool and country hick as ever.

“Why, Ms. Dalton, if I’d known you were interested in baby-faced cowboys,” he rubbed the scruffy whiskers on his jaw, “I would’ve tried out that hot waxin’.”

B
ILLY WAITED UNTIL
Shirlene Dalton had tossed him an exasperated look and sashayed down the street before he headed in the opposite direction. The woman annoyed the hell out of him, and it was best to keep his distance. Especially after the kiss they had shared out at Sutter Springs. A kiss that had been a mistake. A big mistake. Billy had too much on his plate to get wrapped up with some woman who flirted with every cowboy who came down the pike—every cowboy but Billy.

And maybe that was what had his back up. Shirlene hadn’t flirted with him once, yet she was more than willing to flaunt that killer body and flash that smile at a man she hadn’t known for more than a day.

Billy didn’t know who pissed him off most—Beau or the woman. But he figured it out soon enough when he crossed the street to his truck and overheard the mayor and Sheriff Winslow talking.

“…couldn’t find a thing on a Beauregard Williams from Houston who fits his description,” the sheriff said. “Which means he’s probably going by an alias.”

“I knew there was somethin’ fishy about the man.” Harley’s eyes narrowed as the SUV disappeared from sight. “A name is the most important thing a man has, and someone who lies about it is up to no good. Which means that we need to keep him away from Shirlene.”

“It may be too late for that,” the sheriff said. “Last night, Kenny Gene followed him straight to Shirlene’s mansion. And according to Kenny, the man didn’t even wait to be invited inside. Seems he has his own key and just up and let himself in.”

While Billy’s anger came to a full boil, Harley only shook his head. “I was afraid that somethin’ like this would happen. A fine-lookin’ widda woman attracts men like buzzards to roadkill.”

“So what are we goin’ to do, Harley? We can’t let some no-account varmint mess with our Shirlene.” Sam fingered the gun in his holster.

Harley shook his head. “Nope, we sure can’t. ’Course, we can’t go runnin’ in half-cocked either. Shirlene might not have a temper as bad as Hope’s, but she sure doesn’t like folks pokin’ their noses into her business. Which means, we need to have some hard evidence.” He hitched up his pants. “Have Kenny keep watchin’, and I’ll see what I can dig up.” He glanced up and noticed Billy. “Hey, Bubba, you gonna do a little fishin’ today?”

Billy plastered on a grin. “Nope, more like a little huntin’.”

It didn’t take Billy long to get out to Shirlene’s mansion. He saw the house long before he reached it. A huge, white, mission-style monstrosity that covered more land than Texas Stadium. Having grown up in a small farmhouse, it seemed like a blatant misuse of space and money.
Especially when the only two people that had lived there were Shirlene and her husband Lyle.