Christine Wenger - The Cowboy And The Cop

“You are so handsome, Luke, and the best rider—ever,” a much-too-young girl said with her hand on his arm. “Reed is the brainiac, and Jesse is the party guy, but you’re...uh...like both of them, and you’re the best. I have your poster over my bed.”

As he removed her hand, he was amazed that she had his two brothers nailed perfectly. And he...well, she wasn’t the first fan who’d commented on his looks. As for being the best rider ever, he could think of many who were much better. He was just lucky enough to be on top right now. It could change at any minute.

Actually it was going to change soon. He wasn’t going to ride in other circuits over PBR’s summer break. He was going home for a while before Amber Chapman handcuffed him and dragged him home.

During a quiet moment, Luke turned to his brothers. “Hey, I want to talk to you about the ranch. It’s going on the auction block for back taxes in one week. Dad hasn’t paid the taxes since Mom died.”

“But we sent him money,” Reed said.

Luke sighed. “Obviously, he drank it away.”

Reed took a draw on his beer. “Three years is a lot of back taxes.”

“How do you know all this?” Jesse asked.

“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.”