Page 11 of Seducing the Sheriff (Charming Butte #2)

Chapter Six

Cash

I hated cows.

Not in a ‘they ruined my picnic’ kind of way. No, I hated cows in the ‘they led a conga line down the highway while being chased by sirens and sad little cones’ kind of way.

Cow: 1. Stupid humans: 0.

Dex said cows were intelligent creatures. Dex also once got kicked in the head by a goat and thanked it for the ‘spiritual realignment,’ so forgive me if I didn’t take his bovine wisdom too seriously.

That was a joke. Seriously, could you imagine Dex saying anything like that?

No, that was from Meyer. He came out with some weird shit at our dinners.

I swear Dex was ready to throttle him by the end of our evenings.

But about cows, Dex was so wrong. If they were so smart, why was this one twerking into traffic with a state trooper yelling “STOP RESISTING!” behind it?

Did the cow listen? Hell no.

Dex also said their eyes are windows to their souls. I looked into this cow’s eyes and saw nothing but nihilism and the faint glint of murder. That cow had plans.

Meanwhile, I was out here, instead of taking care of Greg—who was probably being interrogated by Rosie right this moment about his past, his future, and whether there were more bodies stashed in his house, as she cleaned his hands—but no.

I had sweat trickling down my back as I hauled ass after a literal slab of future brisket in ninety-degree heat while it moonwalked across lanes as if it owned the road.

Okay, okay, it did own the road, and we were being unkind trying to save its miserable existence.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse—BAM—the cow kicked one of the troopers. Full-on Chuck Norris hoof to the thigh. I swear I heard a sound like a snapping glow stick.

The trooper went down as if he were poleaxed.

Why the heck had he gotten so close to the beast in the first place?

There were a chorus of snickers and mutters of “Rookie,” from the cruisers which didn’t help matters.

But they did leap out to protect him from the cow.

That trooper was never going to live this down. If he walked again.

I let the troopers focus on their fallen rookie while I glanced warily at the cow who swung around and looked straight at me as if to say, “Wanna take me on?”

No, I don’t. I would rather drink an iced tea on my porch with a certain new man in town beside me. I was sweating as if I were a sinner in a confessional and seriously considering my life choices. Maybe I could become a barista in Destiny’s coffeeshop.

“What do you want us to do?” my deputy, Diego Sanchez, said as he joined me.

I was thinking BBQ, but I’ve learned that no one wants their boss to make a crack like that. We weren’t allowed a sense of humor.

“Have we found out what ranch it belongs to?” I asked, eyeing the cow warily.

“She.”

“Huh?”

“She. It’s a cow, not a bull.”

I kinda guessed it wasn’t a bull. Too much sass.

“Have we found out which farm she belongs to?”

“The old MacKay farm, wherever that is. I spoke to Tobias Crane. His family have just moved in. I guess no one checked the fences. They’re on their way.”

I squinted at him. “Really? That’s miles away. Was the cow trying to jog back to its old home?”

“They said the old b—” — he coughed —“uh…the old cow always was ornery. They weren’t surprised it was Buttercup causing trouble.”

“Buttercup? That’s it’s…her name? I thought it’d be Elvira or something.”

Sanchez laughed. “Nope. Buttercup. And she’s a family favorite, even if she is a nightmare.”

I regarded Buttercup for a long moment, then I sighed. “It’s a good thing someone loves you.”

I swear she was laughing at me.

But not long later, a truck with a trailer arrived, and two men dressed in plaid shirts and well-worn denims hopped out. The older one headed to me while the young one ambled over to Buttercup who stood patiently, as if she’d never caused a moment of trouble.

“You the sheriff?” The old man had the craggy face from years of working outside and his voice sounded like my boots crunching in dry leaves on the ground in late Fall.

“That’s me. Cash Lawson. Are you Tobias Crane?”

“He is.” The man jerked his thumb at the younger man, now loving on Buttercup.

“He’s my son. I’m Zeke Crane. Sorry about old Buttercup, Sheriff Lawson.

She can be a real princess. We’ve just moved in and the guys from the movers left the gate open when they drove away.

Buttercup was out the gate and down the road before we realized she was gone. ”

They were lucky to have only one walkabout cow. “You need to talk to the State Troopers about this. Buttercup took out one of their own. She’s got a mean back kick.”

Zeke Crane grimaced. “Understood. I’ve been on the receiving end only too often.”

“Why do you keep her?” I asked without thinking, but he didn’t seem to take offense as his exasperated expression softened.

“My son brought her into the world. He was only eight and on his own. It was a difficult birth, but he succeeded. She was always going to be his cow.”

I heard the pride in his voice and understood.

I mean, I kind of understood. I’m not a country boy, but I’ve lived in rural areas long enough to understand the affection farmers have for their animals.

That made me think of Greg. I really hoped he stuck with sheep and not cattle. Sheep had to be easy to handle, right?

I watched as Tobias Crane led Buttercup to the trailer. I expected her to cause a song and dance about getting on the trailer, but she walked up the ramp as sweet as anything.

There was some muttering from one or two of the Troopers, but most of them seemed unsurprised that Buttercup turned sweet as pie for the young man who brought her into the world.

I let Zeke talk to the Troopers about any citations.

The cow would be on its way home, we could open the highway, and the day would return to normal.

I had one job to do and then I’d head to the office.

I walked over to a trooper guarding the back of the ambulance with a bored expression.

He looked as if he were what my mom would say: well-seasoned.

“How is he?” I asked, nodding at the closed doors.

“He’s fine,” the trooper said cheerfully. “His leg is bruised, not broken. The rookie’s a city fella. Next time, he’ll learn not to get so close to livestock.”

So much for sympathy for his co-worker.

“I’m glad it’s not bruised. I thought I heard a crack.”

The trooper’s expression turned gleeful. “That was his brand-new, real expensive, phone. The screen is shattered.”

I flinched. “Poor guy.”

The trooper shrugged. “Just another day at the office.”

We exchanged wry smiles, totally unsympathetic. Yeah, this was a typical day at the office…with added cow.

I left Sanchez to liaise with the troopers, and I headed back to my office to write my report. Between the shoplifter and old Buttercup, it had been a busy day.

I had a forlorn hope I’d see Greg too, but the business with the cow had taken a lot longer than I expected and of course, I was approaching the office when I received another call.

“Sheriff. It’s Dean. Are you nearing Charming? Mrs. Torres is in labor. She tried to drive, but the baby’s coming quicker than expected. The ambulance was held up by a cow and her husband is on the other side of the county. He’s on his way. Could you go check on her. This is her first baby.”

I was a trained paramedic, so I wasn’t surprised to receive this call. Moms in labor weren’t my favorite callout. There was so much that could go wrong, and the last thing a new mom needed was an uncertain sheriff at the business end.

However it was my job, and I was better than nothing.

“I was almost at the office. Give me her address and let her know I’m on my way, Dean.”

“Will do, sheriff.”

Dean rattled off the address, and I typed it into the GPS as I was still learning my way around this side of the county. She was nearer Bobcat Stump and as the highway was now open, there was a good chance the paramedics would arrive before me.

I had to smile as I did a U-turn in the road and headed toward Bobcat Stump.

I grumbled a lot about never having time to park my ass, but I liked days like this.

We caught a felon, old Buttercup returned home safely after her twerking adventure, and hopefully, there was a new life coming into the world. It was a good day.

I parked on the road so the ambulance could park on the drive and jogged over to the front door. I tried the handle, relieved when the door opened.

I pushed it cautiously open. “Mrs. Torres? It’s Sheriff Lawson.”

“Come in, sheriff. I’m out the back.”

Her voice sounded strained, and I hurried to the back room. My first impression was of a sunny, airy room, painted in lemon, and the second was a young woman on the couch, her arms around her swollen stomach. Glossy black hair covered her face, and I couldn’t see her expression.

“Mrs. Torres?” I joined her at the couch but knelt in front of her, not wanted to jostle her or the baby. “How are you and the baby doing?”

She raised her head, blew strands of hair away from her flushed face, and attempted to smile at me.

“Call me Ellie, sheriff. Little Elena is anxious to make an appearance, I don’t think she’s going to wait for her daddy.

” She panted her way through the sentence.

“I thought I had a bit of bellyache, you know? She’s not due for another two weeks. ”

So many women had told me the same thing, only to find themselves in full-blown labor.

I smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m going to wash my hands, then we’ll see about bringing your baby into the world.”

Ellie bit her bottom lip, then said, “Have you done this before?”

“Four times,” I said, making my tone as business-like and cheerful as possible. “Although two of those were twins. Don’t tell anyone,” I added conspiratorially.