Saved By A Texas-Sized Wedding. Judy Christenberry
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“How about you, Josh? He didn’t step on you, did he?”
“No, Susie.”
With a sigh, she stepped into the office. “I need to see Sheriff Cal Baxter, if he’s in.”
“Sure he’s in. Those Mary Lee and Rodger’s children? Poor babies. Who shall I tell him is calling?”
“Suzanne McCoy, guardian to Josh and Mandy.”
“Well, now, you just have a seat. My name’s Gladys. I’ll be right back.”
With a sigh, Suzanne took one of the chairs. She released Josh’s hand and patted the chair next to her. “Sit down, honey. I know you’re still sleepy.”
The little boy slumped against the chair. He hadn’t smiled once since Suzanne had gotten to Cactus. She was worried about him. Mandy had cried for her mother every morning so far, though she forgot her tears quickly. But when she slipped and called Suzanne Mama, Josh reminded Mandy that her name was Susie. That’s what Mary Lee used to call her.
Gladys reappeared with another tall cowboy behind her.
“Morning, Miss McCoy. Come on in the office. Do you want Gladys to look after the little ones?”
“No, they’d better come with me.”
When they were settled in the chairs before the sheriff’s desk, she explained about the thieving that had been going on and what she’d done about it. “I realized in the middle of confronting them that they might not react well, so I told them I’d already called you. I know I should’ve told you first and followed your directions. I lost my temper,” she added, her voice dropping.
He smiled. “You’re not the only one with a temper in Cactus. One of your neighbors just came in to tell me he thought something was going on. I was going to come see you.”
“Oh, that’s nice of him.”
“Yeah.”
“The old man said he was thinking about telling me,” she said in disgust.
“I reckon you mean old Al.”
“Yes, I think his name was Al.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive old Al. He’s in his eighties and that’s been his only home. He doesn’t move too fast these days.”
“I see. But he pointed out that I’d need some hands to run the ranch. I—I don’t know anything about ranching.”
“Best you talk with Ryan Walker. He’s your neighbor who just came in to warn me. He knows the most about ranching around here. And being next door will be convenient. Or you can visit the farm agent, but he’s…new on the job. He may not be able to offer much.”
“And you’ll catch those cowhands?”
“I’ll keep my eye out for them, me and my deputies, but I imagine they’ve left the state. I’ll talk to Al about what they did.”
“Thank you, sheriff.”
Once she and the kids were outside, standing on the sidewalk, she debated her next option. She found the farm agent’s office and noted that it didn’t open until eight. Then she spotted The Lemon Drop Shop across the town square. A quick look at Josh made her decision. “Josh, let’s go have a lemonade and a cookie or something while we wait to see the farm agent. Okay?”
The boy perked up a little, but not much. He shrugged, though he followed her a little less reluctantly. When they got inside, she found they were serving sausage rolls and sweet rolls. She made the choices for all three of them and moved to the cash register to pay.
“Hello. You’re the guardian of Mary Lee and Rodger’s children, aren’t you?”
Suzanne looked up in surprise. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“No, of course you don’t. I’m Katherine Dawson. Most people call me Katie. Why don’t you pick a table and I’ll bring over your order.”
“Oh, that would be so nice of you.” Suzanne relaxed a little. She stepped outside and chose an empty table. Josh crawled up into a chair and she sat Mandy down in the one next to him. Then she took the third seat. Katie appeared with a large tray holding their lemonades and the rolls she’d ordered.
“Mind if I sit with you a few minutes?” Katie asked.
Suzanne shook her head no and introduced herself. “I’ve moved from Dallas to take care of the children.”
“Oh, good. You’re going to stay. We were afraid you’d take the children back to Dallas.”
Suzanne shook her head, then added, “Maybe I should. I don’t know anything about ranching and—” she paused and then explained what had happened the previous night.
“Oh, no, how awful for you.”
“What’s wrong, Katie?” asked an older woman standing with a friend behind their table.
“Oh, good morning, Mabel, Florence. Have you met Suzanne McCoy?” She looked at Suzanne. “Do you mind if these two ladies join us?”
“No, of course not,” Suzanne automatically agreed, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her story to everyone.
It was Katie, however, who told her friends what had happened. Then she turned to Suzanne. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, the sheriff—”
“He’s my son,” Mabel Baxter inserted proudly.
“Oh, well, he said he would look for the troublemakers, but he doubted any of them would hang around.”
“So?” Florence asked.
“I’ve got to find someone who knows about ranching, some cowboys to take care of what herd we have left.”
“See Ryan Walker,” Mabel said with a determined nod of her chin.
“That’s what your son said.”
“He’s right. Ryan is a great rancher,” Florence agreed. Then she looked as if an idea had struck her. She looked at Mabel, then Suzanne. “Tell me, dear, are you—involved with anyone?”
Suzanne stared at her blankly. The sudden switch of subject surprised her. Finally she said, “No. I don’t know anyone here.”
“So you didn’t leave any broken hearts in Dallas?”
“No. But about my ranch—”
“Yes. I was thinking, you see, Ryan needs a baby-sitter,” Florence said, again surprising Suzanne.
“He does?”
“Yes. Beth is—how old is Beth, Katie?”