Candy Halliday - A Ranch Called Home

“What’s this about court?”

Sara and Dessie both turned. Sheriff Dillard walked out of his office into the lobby.

“Sara was right, Howard,” Dessie said. “Coulter wants Ben. When Sara wouldn’t take his money, he threatened to take her to court.”

“Well, I just got off the phone with the sheriff in Pitkin County, Colorado,” Sheriff Dillard said.

Dessie looked over at Sara. “Howard ran a check on Coulter’s license plate. The Coulter ranch is located near a town called Redstone.”

“And the Crested-C Ranch is one of the largest family-owned quarter-horse ranches in the state,” Dillard added. “Sheriff Carter not only knows our boy, but Gabe happens to be an old fishing buddy of the sheriff’s. Carter said Gabe is one of the most respected men in his county.”

“That’s strike two against you, Sara,” Dessie warned. “He has money and he has a good reputation.”

“There’s something else that might shed some light on why he continued looking for you after his brother was killed,” Sheriff Dillard said. “Gabe was at the rodeo when his brother was injured. And according to Carter, Billy made Gabe promise during the ambulance ride to the hospital that he would find his son and bring the boy home.”

Sara shuddered, thinking about the news footage she’d seen on TV. She hadn’t realized one of the men hovering over Billy immediately after the accident was his brother. And apparently neither had the media, because Sara knew that story would have been milked for all it was worth.

“I hate to say it, Sara, but that’s strike three against you,” Dessie said, shaking her head sadly. “There isn’t a jury alive who would rule against a man trying to carry out his dead brother’s last wish.”

“Will you stop being so negative, Dessie,” Sara scolded. “What happened to the ‘march in there and tell him he’s messed with the wrong mother’ lecture you gave me earlier?”

Dessie ignored Sara and directed her question to the sheriff. “Is Coulter married?”

“Oh, please!” Sara said. “What does his marital status have to do with anything?”

“His marital status has everything to do with this situation,” Dessie argued. “If Coulter doesn’t have a wife, who would take care of Ben if he did manage to win custody?”

They both instantly looked at Dillard for the answer.

“No wife,” Dillard said. “The sheriff described him as a loner, completely devoted to the ranch and his horses.”

“Well?” Sara asked, looking at Dessie, then back to the sheriff. “No wife means one point for my side, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Dillard said. “Carter said their folks were killed in an accident when Billy was in grade school and Gabe was still a teenager. Gabe stepped up to the plate, took over the ranch, and raised Billy himself.”

“And we all know how well that worked out,” Dessie snipped.

“Now, Dessie,” Sheriff Dillard said. “I hate to come to the man’s defense, but a bull killed his brother. Not a lousy upbringing.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” Dessie snorted. “Coulter intends to raise Ben on a ranch with a bunch of rough and tough cowboys, the same way he raised his brother. If you ask me, that’s too much testosterone for anyone’s own good.”

Sheriff Dillard let out a loud groan. “Can we please not turn this into a man-versus-woman thing?”

“Oh, hell, Howard,” Dessie grumbled. “It’s been a man-versus-woman thing since the beginning of time.” She grabbed Sara by the arm. “Come on, Sara. We’re wasting time talking to this old coot.”

Sheriff Dillard immediately stepped in front of them.

“Stop right here, Dessie. I’ve known you too many years not to recognize that look on your face. You’re up to something. And when you’re up to something, it always means trouble for me.”

Dessie pushed past him but said over her shoulder, “I’m depending on you to keep that boy locked up until tomorrow, Howard. And if you intend to be reelected next term you’ll do your job.”

With that said, Dessie marched Sara out the door.

GABE STOOD when he heard the door at the end of the hallway open. He was hopeful Sara Watson had thought things over during the past three hours, and had finally decided to reconsider his offer. Fifty thousand dollars, after all, was a lot of money for anyone to throw away on foolish pride.

His hope evaporated when the sheriff approached the cell. In typical lawman stance, both hands were at Dillard’s waist, feet planted firmly apart.

He frowned at Gabe and said, “Your first mistake was offering Sara money in exchange for the boy.”

Gabe didn’t even bother to argue.

He’d already figured that much out for himself.

“Your second mistake,” the sheriff said, “was threatening to take Sara to court.”

“Well, what did you expect me to do?” Gabe asked. “She threatened me first with a restraining order.”

“Do you really blame her?” Dillard asked. “You admitted you’ve been chasing her all across Texas for over a year now.”

Gabe frowned. “I told you. I only wanted to talk to her.”

“And it never crossed your mind the only reason she kept running was because you were chasing her?”

“Bullshit,” Gabe said. “She kept running because she can barely keep a roof over her son’s head.”

“And you never considered offering Sara the money so she would be able to keep a roof over Ben’s head?”

“This isn’t about just keeping a roof over his head,” Gabe said. “This is about his heritage and his future. Half of the Crested-C Ranch belongs to Ben now. And one day I hope he’ll be the fourth generation to run it. But that isn’t going to happen unless Ben grows up on his own land and the ranch actually means something to him.”

“Then why didn’t you tell Sara that instead of flashing your money in her face?”

“I didn’t think it would make any difference to her.”

“You don’t have much experience in dealing with women, do you, son?”

Gabe sent him a warning look. “I’m in no mood for an education on dealing with women, Sheriff.”

“That’s too bad,” Dillard said, “because your threats just put Ben and Sara in danger.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Desperate people do desperate things,” Dillard said. “After Sara left I sent my deputy over to the diner to keep an eye on her. I found out a few minutes ago she’s taking the boy to Mexico.”

“Mexico?”

“Dessie has a niece who runs a resort in Juarez just across the border from El Paso,” Dillard said. “I’m sure that’s where Sara will go. But do I need to draw a picture for you? Juarez is a dangerous place. Mexico’s underground prostitution is big business in Juarez. And Sara and Ben would both bring top dollar.”

Fear sucker punched Gabe in the stomach.

He shook the iron door in front of him.

“Then let me out of here, Sheriff! Help me stop her.”

“Not so fast,” Dillard said. “First, you tell me how committed you really are to your nephew.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Dammit! Gabe didn’t have time for stupid questions. Not with a dozen horrible scenarios already running through his mind.

“But are you here for the right reasons? I did a little checking on you, Coulter. I talked to your old pal Sheriff Carter. So look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to give Ben the chance to grow up on his own land? Or are you really just trying to keep a half-assed promise you made to your dead brother?”

For the second time that day, Gabe was thankful for the iron bars in front of him. Had it not been for those bars—and the fact Dillard was thirty years his senior—Conrad’s sheriff would have found himself flat on his back, compliments of Gabe’s own fist.