The Cowboy And The Cop. Christine Wenger

was unusually free of calls for a Monday morning, so Amber pulled out her study guide for the state police exam and went through the questions that she’d missed before. Opening a notebook, she jotted down some key words. She’d look up what she’d gotten wrong, make notes and study those for the future.

      But even with a perfect score, Amber knew the biggest obstacle still was ahead, namely the background check. Even though her father claimed that his used car parts business was on the up-and-up, Amber could never be sure. And, if the officials found anything questionable, Amber would find herself stuck here in a town that still looked at her as Marv Chapman’s kid.

      She’d tried to believe her father when he’d said they’d all be crime-free while she was a deputy sheriff and that no “funny business” would be going on, but could she trust him?

      She was already a traitor in her father’s and three brothers’ eyes because she had gone “over to the other side.” They were mostly kidding when they teased her—mostly.

      The residents of Beaumont looked down on the Chapmans and always would. But her goal for the longest time was to bring some respectability to the family name. That’s one of the reasons why she’d become a cop. The other was to keep her father and brothers in line. So far, so good, on that count.

      Her mother had been looking for the same respectability. Kathleen Chapman had stayed with her husband and sons and tolerated their minor brushes with the law until Amber was accepted into college. Then Kathleen had taken a job in the cafeteria at the University of Oklahoma and the two of them had shared a small apartment.

      Those were some of Amber’s happiest times.

      And although they’d never divorced, Kathleen still had a soft spot for Marv and her three boys who followed in Marv’s footsteps: Aaron, Kyle and Ronnie.

      There was some kind of loud commotion in the hallway. Amber was just about to lay her study guide down and check it out, when the door opened and a man—or rather, a cowboy—walked in.

      He wore the typical dress of every other cowboy in town: jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a dinner plate of a buckle, a hat and dusty boots.

      Leaning over the counter, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Amber was holding a study guide. She quickly closed it and tossed it into her desk drawer.

      “Hello, Luke. You made it.”

      “If I’m not disturbing you—”

      “You’re not disturbing me. Although the noise in the hallway did. Was that your fan club?”

      “Uh...just some people who were congratulating me on my wins in Billings and Oklahoma City.”

      “Let me add my congratulations.”

      “Thanks, Amber.” He took a deep breath and looked down at the marble floor. Finally he asked, “How about filling me in on my father’s arrests?”

      Amber pulled a folder from her bottom drawer and opened it. Although she knew its contents by heart, Luke Beaumont always made her jumpy, and it gave her something to do with her hands.

      “I think I told you that I arrested him three times. They were all at Tommy Lang’s bar. For the first two arrests I recommended to Judge Bascom that he just give him a stern warning and tell him to go to AA, but not the third time. That time, I recommended some days in jail along with probation and inpatient rehab. Your dad’s a fighter when he’s drunk and he can get quite mean, especially if someone brings up your mom.”

      Luke grunted. “I’m sure he’s more miserable than ever, but tell me what he did at the bar. Obviously he was drunk. Any damage?”

      “Yeah. The last time he jumped a biker who called him an old drunk. Your father said that he might be a drunk, but he wasn’t old. More words were exchanged relative to size and stature, and when the peanut shells settled on the floor, the damage totaled one thousand bucks.”

      “I’ll pay it.”

      “Your father is supposed to pay his own restitution,” Amber instructed.

      “Yeah, well, my money is going to have to do.”

      “That’ll teach him,” she mumbled.

      “Where’s the tax department? I have an appointment to see Connie McBride.”

      “There’s a sign right next to the entranceway, but your fans were probably blocking your view,” she teased. “It’s on the second floor. Up the stairs, turn left. Sign on door.”

      “Thank you, Sergeant Chapman.”

      Her heart was pounding in her chest. Why did he have to be so hot?

      “I’ll leave you alone now, so you can get back to your reading. I’m glad Beaumont is crime-free, except for our fathers, huh? State police study guide?”

      She wanted to coat him with pepper spray from the top of his Stetson to the bottom of his boots.

      “If you want to pay your father’s restitution, so he wouldn’t have learned a thing from his experience, you can do so on the third floor in the Beaumont County Probation Department. Do you want me to draw you a map?” she said, trying to get back at his teasing her.

      “I can handle it. Riding bulls hasn’t scrambled my brains that much.”

      She grinned. “The jury is still out on that, Luke.”

      He touched the brim of his hat to her. “Maybe I’ll stop in and see Matty Matthews while I’m there.”

      As he walked toward the thick oak door and opened it, Amber couldn’t help but notice his tight butt.

      That cowboy can really work a pair of jeans.

      She could hear his boots knocking on the marble floor until they faded.

      Sergeant Chapman hurried to the refrigerator in the break room, opened the freezer and let the air cool her flaming face.

       Chapter Three

      Amber looked great in the navy blue and white Beaumont County Sheriff’s Department uniform with full cop regalia, but Luke still remembered her at the senior prom, all sparkly and glowing. Crazy Kenny Fowler had been her date and he’d paid more attention to everyone but Amber.

      During the prom, Luke got word that Kenny had Chapman moonshine on him and even more jars of the stuff in his car that he got “on sale” for taking Amber to the prom.

      Luke had known exactly when Amber had heard Crazy Kenny say that stupid sentence. With head held high, she’d left. He’d excused himself from his date and secretly followed Amber home, just to make sure she’d gotten there all right.

      He couldn’t help but hear her soft sobs as she’d slipped out of her heels on the sidewalk and kept on walking.

      Funny, he remembered Amber that evening but he couldn’t remember whom he’d taken to the prom.

      Reaching the second floor, he found the door labeled Beaumont County Department of Taxation and walked in. The office smelled musty, as if fresh air had never hit all the ledgers, microfiche and file cabinets. Looked like the tax department hadn’t caught up to the digital age.

      “I know why you’re here, Luke,” said Mrs. McBride from behind the counter. Connie McBride was the mother of Leann, the head cheerleader he had dated during his sophomore year. “I’ve been expecting you.”

      Reaching to her right, she slid a file from the top of the stack and positioned it in front of him. Using a stubby index finger with a nail cut to the quick, she pointed to a figure he knew was reachable but would be painful for his brothers and him.

      “And these are the penalties.” She pointed to another figure.

      Dammit, Dad. What have you done?

      “I