for good measure,” the wrangler explained. “Miss Deputy, don’t you know when someone is feeding you a line of bullsh—uh—manure?”
She shot Tyler an exasperated look. “Evidently your man doesn’t understand he can get into deep trouble by lying to a law official. I could take him in, you know. For giving false statements, impeding an investigation and—”
“But you won’t,” Tyler interrupted. “Because you and I both know that Sheriff Hamilton doesn’t have time to deal with this sort of nonsense.”
“Neither do I,” she snapped.
Turning to Santo, she gave him a stern upbraiding before finally releasing him from the handcuffs. The horse wrangler didn’t press his luck by hanging around or tossing any more sarcastic jabs at the deputy, especially in front of his boss. Instead, he quickly headed in the direction of the stables with the other three ranch hands close behind him.
Lifting his hat from his head, Tyler raked a hand through his thick hair and heaved out a weary breath. This morning was hardly going as planned. “I’m sorry about this, Deputy Lightfoot. Santo is—well, he’s an independent cuss. He sometimes has the idea that rules are for other people to follow, not him. Believe me, I’ll get the message over to him.”
“That might be a good idea. Before he gets himself into a serious situation.”
She walked around the truck to where the driver’s door still stood ajar. Within the cab, he could hear the dispatcher relaying information to another officer and Tyler suddenly wondered if Deputy Lightfoot had already alerted the sheriff that she was making an arrest regarding the fire. He hoped not. It would hardly shed a positive light on her ability to judge people and the situation.
Whether she makes a fool of herself or not is hardly your business, Tyler. If she takes a fall for mishandling the investigation, it’s not your worry.
Even though the pestering voice in his head was giving him good advice, he pushed the annoying noise aside. For some reason he didn’t understand, he wanted this woman to succeed. And not just because it would be to his advantage to have the arsonist found and punished. No, this was a personal feeling. Something he’d been short on for a long, long while.
“Are you finished interviewing the men?” he asked.
“For now.” She climbed into the truck, shut the door, then looked out at him through the open window.
Amazed by the crazy pull she had on him, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer to the truck door. “I’d like to thank you again, Deputy Lightfoot, for being so understanding about Santo. His wife died a few months ago and he’s been struggling to get back to normal. If not for that, I would fire him. As it is—”
“Forget it,” she cut in briskly. Then, turning her focus back inside the truck, she started the engine.
“I’d rather buy your dinner,” he said, unable to stop the rush of words from tumbling out of him. “Just to show my gratitude.”
That jerked her head around, and Tyler could see shock arching her black brows and widening her dark brown eyes.
“Sorry. It’s against department policy to accept gratuities,” she said stiffly.
“Okay. Is it against department policy for deputies to eat dinner?”
A grimace tightened her lips. “No. We do get to eat from time to time.”
“Then would it be a crime for someone to sit down at your table and eat at the same time you were eating?”
She stared at him. “No. But you paying for it would be.”
He grinned and was totally amazed at the spurt of excitement skittering along his veins.
“Well, Deputy Lightfoot, you know how things sometimes go at busy restaurants. Meal tickets get mixed up. One diner’s order might get added to someone else’s. It’s all just innocent confusion.”
He could see the corners of her mouth twitch, making it clear that she was trying her best not to smile. The idea pleased him far more than it should have.
“You know, Mr. Pickens, right now you’re proving to me that you’d make a perfect criminal.”
He chuckled. “Perfect, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She let out an exasperated breath; then, after a few moments of mulling over the idea, she said, “All right. It just so happens that tonight I’ll be having a meal at the Blue Mesa. If you just so happen to stop by about eight o’clock, I’ll be sitting there in a booth.”
“Eight o’clock!” he exclaimed. “That late?”
“I’m working a split shift today. Some of us don’t get to hang up our spurs after the sun goes down, Mr. Pickens.”
Casting her a suggestive smile, he said, “Sometimes I wear mine all night, Rosalinda.”
“Deputy Lightfoot to you, Mr. Pickens.”
Before he could make a reply to that, the window slid upward and he could do nothing more but watch as she reversed the truck away from the barn, then drove away.
The dust of her vehicle had barely dissipated with the wind when a voice sounded directly behind him.
“What the hell was that?”
Turning, Tyler saw that Gib had walked up behind him. Apparently, the cook had noticed something going on here at the ranch yard and had walked down to check things out for himself.
“That was the deputy leaving,” Tyler told him.
“I’m not talking about the deputy. I meant you laughing. What was that all about? I can’t see anything amusing about part of the ranch going up in smoke and the law snooping all over the place.”
It was about him flirting and actually getting a charge out of the whole exchange between himself and the sexy deputy, Tyler could have told him. But Gib didn’t need to know that; especially since it had been a momentary thing. He didn’t want the older man worrying that he was going to get himself involved in another painful position with a woman. Because that was the last thing Tyler would ever do again.
“Oh. I’m just feeling good, I guess.”
Frowning, Gib said, “You sure as hell weren’t feeling good when you left to go to town a while ago.”
“That was before I saw parts of the burn in daylight. Made me realize how lucky I was to only lose one hay meadow and no cows.”
Gib thoughtfully stroked a thumb and forefinger against his chin. “That’s so. But she—that deputy—was about to haul Santo off to jail. I thought you’d be upset with her.”
“No need for that. She came around to my way of thinking.”
Gib studied him for another moment and then, with a puzzled shake of his head, replied, “I’m going to the house.”
The cook had taken only a few strides in the direction of the sprawling hacienda when Tyler called
