Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(33)

They arrived on four-wheelers, with dogs that Shotgun did not like, to round up their cattle and take them back to River Bend Ranch. Honey was decked out in a cute little snug-fitting light blue jacket that matched her gloves and stocking hat, tight jeans, and cowboy boots.

“Does she go to bed with her hair done and makeup on?” Callie grumbled.

“Well, hello, Finn,” Honey said sweetly as she parked her four-wheeler right up next to the porch. “Looks like somebody done cut the fence to our pasture of prize breeders and turned them loose on Salt Draw. You reckon your bodyguard did that? We called the sheriff on our way over here to tell him. I reckon he’ll have a few questions for her. I suppose I would be willin’ to drop all charges, which I do plan to file, since I’m sure you probably got at least one high-dollar breedin’ from the best bull on River Bend Ranch while my herd was mingled up with yours.”

“Callie didn’t do any of this. She’s been in the house all night,” Finn said gruffly.

Callie never wanted to slap the shit out of someone so bad in her entire life, and right here at Christmas when folks were supposed to be nice and have kindness and love in their hearts.

“I’ll drop the charges against her if you’ll go out with me on Friday night,” Honey said. “Little dinner at my place. Little movie afterward with some wine, and then we’d see where it leads.”

“For one thing, you twit,” Callie said, “you can file all the charges you want to, but there’s got to be some proof for them to stick. I was either in this house all evening or on the porch and have witnesses to prove it.”

“Guess that answers your question,” Finn said. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone gunnin’ for the Gallaghers.”

“That’s exactly why we called the sheriff. Damn Gallaghers have gone too far this time,” Declan said. “We’re going to nail their asses to the wall and laugh when they have to spend time in prison for this. Honey, get back on your machine and help us. We’ll be until daylight gettin’ them all back in our pasture. Don’t suppose you’d want to help us, Finn?”

“Ain’t my feud or my problem. I didn’t cut a fence, yours or mine. You get your herd back through and make sure ain’t none of them carryin’ my brand or the Salt Draw one, and I’ll fix my own fence.”

Sheriff Orville showed up at ten minutes past one while Honey and Declan were trying to herd one rangy old bull from behind the house toward the gap in the fence out near the road. He parked the car, sidestepped every cow pile between there and the house, and handed Callie a box of a dozen frosted doughnuts with sprinkles on the top.

“Most of the shops shut up in the middle of the afternoon, but Walmart stays open all night.” He smiled. “You can have them for breakfast. Might be a little warmer inside for me to take down your report of what’s happened here.”

Honey skidded to a stop beside the porch, hopped off, and popped both hands on her hips. “Orville, I’m pressing rustling charges against Callie Brewster and Betsy Gallagher both. Way I see it is that Betsy cut the fences and Callie intended to sell my cattle on the black market.”

“Way I see it is that y’all are back in the middle of your feud, and Miz Callie ain’t got a thing to do with it. You can press charges all night, but if you ain’t got evidence to bring to court, you might as well spend your time primpin’ and cussin’,” Orville said. “You can come on down to the office tomorrow afternoon and give me your statement.”

“You can come to the ranch,” Honey said.

Orville crossed his arms above his doughnut belly. “I could, but I ain’t. Last time I got in the middle of the feud, I got shot. I ain’t goin’ nowhere near them ranches unless it’s life or death. This ain’t. So you got something to say, you come to the office.”

“I’ll put these doughnuts inside. Thank you for them. It’s late, Sheriff. Maybe we could tell you our side of the story tomorrow, too,” Callie said.

“That’d be just fine, and it’s Orville, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and headed back to his car. In his haste, he stepped in a fresh pile of manure.

“Well, crap!” Callie said when he was in his vehicle.

Finn chuckled.

“What’s so damn funny?” Callie asked.

“You’re right. He is flirting. We can share the doughnuts with Martin tomorrow. You going to help me fix a fence?”

“Who says I’m sharing? And, yes, I’ll hold the flashlight,” she answered.

***

Martin was out the door and running toward the school bus before Callie realized he wasn’t wearing his good shoes again that morning, but then she’d only had two hours of sleep after helping Finn with the cut fence. Thank goodness for Shotgun, who kept Salt Draw cattle at bay so they could get the barbed wire tightened enough to keep their cattle in and anyone else’s out.

“Don’t go out there. Danger. Danger. Danger,” Joe fussed when Martin left.

“Why couldn’t your owner have liked country music instead of cop shows?” Callie made a mental note to check Martin’s shoes the next day. She’d paid good money for new shoes, and he’d picked them out himself, so be damned if they were going to sit in the closet until he outgrew them.