Marin Thomas - No Ordinary Cowboy

“Sure thing. See you next time.”

Back inside her truck, Lucy angled the air vents toward her face and guzzled her drink. Once she’d quenched her thirst, she backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the highway. The drive between the ranch and Stagecoach was nothing less than boring—rocky brown landscape dotted with green cactus. Mesmerized by the wavy heat lines radiating off the pavement, Lucy slammed on the brakes when an animal shot across the road in front of the truck.

“Maddie!” Blast that dog. The purebred boxer charged across the desert. Lucy pulled off the road and turned on the truck’s flashers. She rummaged through the glove compartment until she found the whistle, then got out of the truck and blew hard.

The brown speck in the distance skidded to a stop. A stare-down ensued.

“Come back, Maddie. It’s too dang hot to chase you.”

The seven-year-old boxer had been a shadow of her old self since Michael died. No one had witnessed the accident, but everyone assumed Maddie had been riding in the bed and was thrown clear when Michael’s truck flipped and landed in the ditch. Not long after, Maddie had found her way back to the ranch and barked nonstop until she’d woken the family.

Lucy blew the whistle again. Maddie trotted forward then stopped and sat. What kind of game are you playing, girl?

Michael had come across the dog walking along a deserted highway on the outskirts of Flagstaff, and the pair had been inseparable until his death. Maddie had begun running away a month after Michael was cremated. At one point, Lucy and her mother had searched for days. Finally, when they’d driven past the site of the crash, they’d discovered the dog waiting in the hot sun for her master to return.

After that incident, her mother had insisted Maddie be put down, but Lucy had refused to allow her parents to euthanize Michael’s dog. Instead, she’d suggested they build an outdoor kennel and keep Maddie penned in. The darn dog must have dug her way to freedom.

A horn blast startled Maddie, and she took off like a jackrabbit, disappearing behind a thicket of scrub brush. Lucy shielded her eyes from the sun as a black truck drew closer and parked behind her vehicle. Tony Bravo.

* * *

LUCY HAD BEEN BACK from college for two years, and he’d managed to avoid any direct contact with her until she’d plowed into him at the Yuma rodeo. Now here they were, running into each other twice in one week.

“Car trouble?” Tony strode toward Lucy, grateful his mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes from view as he looked her over. Seeing Lucy up close in her tight jeans, sassy boots and formfitting T-shirt reminded him of the nights he’d stripped her clothes off in a motel room and they’d both been caught off guard by the explosive passion between them. Their series of one-night stands, strung together over the course of five months, had ended abruptly. After letting Michael down in the worst possible way, Tony hadn’t deserved to be happy, and because he hadn’t had the guts to tell Lucy the truth about the night her brother had died, he’d walked away from her without a word of explanation.

“Maddie ran off,” she said.

He scanned the horizon, realizing he hadn’t seen the dog since Michael’s funeral, when she’d sat beneath the tree across the street from the church. The memory of that afternoon flashed through Tony’s mind, but he slammed the door shut before the images came into focus.

“Will she come back?” he asked.

“Eventually.” Lucy didn’t sound confident.

Tony returned to his truck and grabbed the gallon of water he stored for emergencies and an empty fast-food salad bowl from yesterday’s lunch. He filled the bowl with water then placed it on the ground near Lucy’s feet. “If she comes back, she’ll have water to drink.”

“Thanks.” Lucy walked several yards away and blew the whistle. “It’s been over six months since her last break for freedom.”

Tony wasn’t surprised Maddie had run to the place Michael had crashed his truck. Dogs were intuitive animals, and Maddie’s internal clock had alerted her to the importance of tomorrow’s date—the second anniversary of Michael’s death. The sun had faded the white wooden cross Lucy had placed in the rocky ground after the accident. Michael’s name was barely discernible. Tony’s chest tightened when he recalled his last conversation—rather argument—with his best friend. Tony wanted a do-over of that night so damned bad. “Maddie’s how old?”

“Seven.”

Tony studied Lucy’s face. Her cheekbones were sharper than he remembered, making her blue eyes appear larger beneath the light brown lashes. She’d pulled her curly blond hair into a ponytail, and the little makeup she wore revealed a flawless complexion. He squeezed his hands into fists to keep from dragging a finger down her cheek to test the softness of her skin.

“Interesting uniform hat.” Lucy pointed to his head.

Grinning, he tugged the brim of his Stetson. “I’m a cowboy first, then a border patrol agent.”

Lucy laughed, the gesture showing off the tiny dimples in her cheeks. “Guess I’ll head home. Hopefully Maddie will turn up tonight.”

“I’ll spread the word to my coworkers to be on the lookout for her when they’re driving in the area.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

He watched Lucy get into her truck and drive off. Once the vehicle disappeared from sight he turned and spotted Maddie trotting through the desert in his direction. The sly dog had waited for Lucy to leave. Maddie stopped at the water bowl and drank it dry.

“Long time no see, girl.”

The dog lifted her head, water dribbling from her jowls.

Tony dropped to one knee and Maddie bounded closer, putting her paws on his legs and licking his face. “Guess I’ll have to take you home.” He grabbed the plastic bowl and opened the truck door. The dog jumped inside and sat in the passenger seat. After Tony started the truck, Maddie sniffed the air vents, then relaxed, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth as she panted.

Tony steeled himself against the ache in his heart when he scratched the boxer behind the ears. Maddie pressed her head into his hand and he rubbed harder. “I’ve missed you, girl. We had some good times with Michael, didn’t we?” The dog had traveled everywhere with Michael, and Tony had been in awe of their powerful bond.

“I miss him, Maddie. More than you know.”

The dog lay down on the seat and rested her head on Tony’s thigh. His throat tightened at the affectionate gesture. He shifted the truck into Drive and sped down the road. Tony had planned to speak with Cal Durango about a human-trafficking ring in the area, but had hoped to have more evidence before he asked the ranch owner for access to his property. Thanks to Maddie, Tony would be confronting Lucy’s father sooner rather than later.

Chapter Two

“You know he hates me, don’t you?” Maddie’s alert brown eyes shone with sympathy. Tony strangled the steering wheel as he drove along the highway on the outskirts of Stagecoach. He wasn’t looking forward to facing Cal Durango. The man blamed him for his son’s death and he had a right to.

Not a day passed that Tony didn’t regret leaving the bar after Michael had assured him he’d find a ride home if he drank too much. If Tony could travel back in time, he’d have stayed until Michael had finished celebrating, or he’d have coaxed him out of the bar before he’d had one too many beers.

He turned down the road leading to the Durango ranch house and passed beneath a stone archway with the iron letters DR at the top. A mile later, he parked in front of the sprawling hacienda with the covered front porch that ran the entire length of the home. The house sat in the shadows of a rocky incline that blocked the wind and provided shade from the afternoon sun. The yard had been landscaped with palm trees and colorful vegetation reminiscent of a California resort, not the Sonoran Desert.