Read Online Always a Cowboy by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online Page A

chief of police, and whatever else she might be, Thelma was no criminal. Drake wondered what she meant, although he wasn’t stupid enough to ask.
    Thelma had ringlets of gray hair, pale blue eyes, and wore her glasses on the end of her nose. As far as Drake could tell, she didn’t actually need them; they seemed to be mainly for effect, probably so she could glare at people over the top.
    Then he abruptly remembered and said, “Oh, the accident. Yeah, I heard. Sorry about Frankie.”
    She’d named her 1966 bright yellow Impala Frankie, and since this was Mustang Creek, he knew that car well. “That out-of-town asshole had no insurance. It’s going to cost me seven hundred bucks to fix the car. I can take that idiot to small claims court, and Spence is going to make sure his license is suspended, but that won’t do Frankie any good, will it?” She blew out a loud breath. “I’m really pissed off.”
    Now, there was breaking news.
    â€œAs soon as Spence gets here, your food will be out.”
    Tripp made the mistake of saying, “We haven’t ordered yet.”
    Thelma sent him a look that would’ve scared the average grizzly bear. “All of you will have the special.”
    Every one of them wanted to ask what the special might be, but none had the guts to do so.
    â€œGet it?” she demanded, just in case they didn’t know what was good for them, which was whatever Thelma thought was good for them.
    They sure did. Not one of them said a thing as Thelma walked away, ignoring a table full of customers madly waving to get her attention.
    â€œI was kind of hoping for the bacon cheeseburger, but I’ll take whatever she sets in front of me,” Tate said. “Whew. I wouldn’t want to be the guy who made that grave error in judgment and hit her car. That had to be one hell of a conversation.”
    â€œIf I was Spence, I’d throw him in jail for his own protection.” Tripp drained what was left of his beer.
    Drake didn’t disagree. “Now, back to the menu... I’m praying for chicken-fried steak, but I’ll roll with whatever happens to come my way. Did Red have a chance to talk to your dad?”
    â€œAbout the bull, Sherman? Yeah, Jim will handle it—does him good to get involved. He misses that sort of thing.”
    Jim, Tripp’s stepfather, had run the ranch for a long time before Tripp took over. Drake nodded. “I feel regretful about it. Sherman was great in his prime, but he’s not doing real well right now. Slowing down, you might say.”
    Tripp got that faint grin on his face. “So, tell us about the student. The one who’s cuter than a pup in a little red wagon. That’s Red talking as you might’ve guessed, via Jim.”
    â€œI already figured that out.” Drake took a long cool drink. It tasted great. “She’s fine. She’s trying —in more ways than one.” Tripp rolled his eyes at the pun, but Drake ignored him. “She’s a pretty graduate student who has no idea what she’s doing.”
    â€œHow pretty?” That was Tate, also grinning.
    â€œVery,” he admitted, remembering the gold highlights in her hair.
    â€œThat’s what we heard.” Tripp was clearly teasing, but before Drake could respond, he lifted a hand. “I actually think that what she’s doing is important. I’ll bet most of America isn’t even aware we have wild horses, much less that they can be a problem. My two cents’ worth.”
    Spence’s arrival stopped the discussion. He slid into the fourth chair at their table. Tall, with a natural air of command that wasn’t overstated, he was both confident and good at his job. “Thelma’s still mad, I take it.”
    â€œShe’s steaming,” Drake informed him. “Don’t try to order off the menu, my friend. She’s decided we’re all having the special,