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“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.
