Hearing, but not printing it. “I have no reason to send him packing.” And she had every reason to want him around. Her first Dashing Deputy story needed more material. As it was, she’d only introduced the hero—a valiant crusader with an eye for the ladies. She was raring to give him an adventure. She carefully swept the papers on her desk into a tidy pile. Had the deputy found her morning scratchings about his steely jaw and broad shoulders? Surely not, but she couldn’t take any chances, even with her early drafts. “He was looking forward to breakfast,” she said to Uncle Fred. “Maybe you can bring him back.”
Uncle Fred called to Deputy Puckett from the step as Betsy entered the house to deliver the rabbit meat to Aunt Sissy. She plopped the bucket on the counter top. “Another breakfast?” she asked. “Today’s my lucky day.”
Sissy shot a worried glance at the fussing baby on the floor as she flipped the eggs. “Only enough for Fred’s guest. Don’t you go eating it all. You must have a tapeworm, girl.”
Betsy picked up Eloise and bounced her on her hip. If she’d gone and done what everyone expected of her, she’d have her own progeny by now. She kissed Eloise on the forehead. Sweet baby, but she’d just finished raising the baby’s half brothers when Uncle Fred and Sissy got hitched. Betsy was due a break before starting on another family.
The men entered along with Scott, who had been sent for a second pail of milk. Uncle Fred delightedly made introductions, but the deputy wouldn’t even acknowledge Betsy. So he was tetchy? She’d better be on her best behavior if she wanted to shadow him. No more poking fun. If only it were that easy. Betsy handed Eloise a wire whisk to play with as she stepped away from the table to give them some room.
“You came all the way from Texas?” Sissy passed the deputy a plate. “Which part?”
“North central. A town called Garber.”
“I bet it’s real fine there.” Sissy clasped her hands in front of her as he began eating. “Probably makes Pine Gap look pretty sorry by comparison.”
Deputy Puckett swallowed down the first bite. “Yes, ma’am, it sure does,” he said without lifting his head.
For crying aloud. If he were a real hero, he’d say something like, No, ma’am. Pine Gap has a charm that the big towns in Texas could never hope to duplicate. Or, From what I’ve seen, Pine Gap excels in one area, in the beauty of its womenfolk. Then he’d tip his hat and add an extra “ma’am” just for effect.
“But I might tolerate Pine Gap better on a full belly,” he added.
Betsy rolled her eyes. This cowboy had a long way to go before he’d be quotable. “If Pine Gap isn’t to your liking, then why did you leave Texas?” she asked.
He fixed her with a searing gaze. “It got too hot there,” he said. And took another sip of milk, all the while watching her over the rim of the cup.
“Hot? The temperature, or—”
“Those are some right substantial pistols,” Scott interrupted. “Can I shoot them?”
Sissy’s gasp quickly smoldered into some heavy fuming. She took up the skillet with a trembling hand and excused herself to the sink. Uncle Fred suddenly looked a sight older than he had just minutes ago. Before Deputy Eduardo could answer, Betsy’s uncle spoke up.
“My son has a fascination with the activity around here that we’d rather him know nothing about.”
Only his son? Uncle Fred would’ve liked to shoot the guns himself if Sissy and Scott weren’t watching.
Scott dropped his fist on the table. “All I’ve got is my .22 and that’s only good for squirrels. How am I going to be able to protect my family if I don’t get serious about this?”
This would be the perfect place for a hero to assure the family that he’d protect them—that there’d be no need for their boy to worry about the safety of his kin. Instead, Eduardo said around a mouthful of eggs, “I don’t let anyone touch my pistols.”
Scott slumped in his chair.
“Your hunting rifle is enough for now,” Uncle Fred said. “As good as you hit squirrels, you don’t have to worry about practicing with a pistol. And now that Deputy Puckett is here, what happens out in the mountains isn’t our responsibility.”
If only it were that simple. Again Betsy studied the deputy’s smooth brow. How old was he? People didn’t cotton to bossy youngsters. Still, he did a tolerable job putting on like he knew what he was about. Maybe he was older than he looked.
He glanced up. Betsy felt a jolt of lightning run through her when their eyes met again. He hadn’t really answered her question about why he’d left Texas, but from the way he watched her, she dared not ask again. She turned away and crooned over the baby as if she weren’t the least interested in the goings-on.
Scott spoke up again. “You ever wear chaps? Leather ones?”
Eduardo cleared his throat before answering. “And spurs, but I don’t wear them unless my horse needs reminding who’s boss.”
Scott fidgeted and grinned. “I never thought I’d meet an honest-to-goodness Texas cowboy. Do you rope?”