Beau: Cowboy Protector

“Sure did. He said he’d call in a few days.”

Beau shoved Phillips’s contact information into the back pocket of his jeans. “How’s married life?” Heavy footfalls sounded overhead and both men looked up at the decorative tin ceiling.

“Married life is good. Real good.”

The bell on the door clanged and Ace Hart entered the store, wearing a scowl. Beau attempted to humor his cousin. “For a man who’s about to become a father, you don’t look too happy.” When the teasing remark failed to lighten Ace’s somber expression, Beau said, “Flynn’s feeling okay, isn’t she?”

“Aside from swollen ankles she’s fine, thanks for asking.”

“What’s the matter? You look pissed,” Austin said.

Ace stared pointedly at Beau. “Colt said you suggested Midnight compete in South Dakota next month.”

“A win there would increase his breeding value,” Beau said.

“I know better than anyone when Midnight’s fit to compete again.” Ace rubbed his brow.

Beau sympathized with the tough position his older cousin was in. Ace was under a lot of pressure to insure the family’s investment paid off. If the stallion got injured, had to be put down, or for some reason could not be bred, Ace could lose his livelihood. With a baby on the way, his cousin had to protect his interests.

“Are you saying Midnight can’t compete next month?” Beau asked.

“I haven’t made up my mind,” Ace said. “By the way, congrats on your win.”

Austin slapped Beau on the back. “You sure are lighting up the circuit since Duke quit.”

“Mind if I have a minute alone with Beau?” Ace asked.

“No problem. I’ll be in the storeroom.”

After Austin walked out of earshot, Ace spoke. “Colt mentioned you ran into Tuf in Wyoming.” The lines bracketing Ace’s mouth deepened. “Did he seem okay?”

“He said he’s working through some stuff.”

“Tuf needs to come home.”

For as long as Beau remembered, Ace had been the strong, confident one in the family. At times his cousin could be too rigid, too controlling, but there was no hiding the concern in the man’s eyes for his little brother. Ace cared deeply about his family and wanted Tuf home where he could be looked after.

The bell on the door clanged a second time. Sierra.

“Let me know if you run into Tuf again.”

“I will.”

Ace left, tipping his hat to Sierra on the way out.

Once the door shut behind Beau’s cousin, Sierra’s smile wilted.

“I was planning to stop by the diner after I talked with Austin,” Beau said, closing the gap between them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She grappled for the door handle.

“Wait.” Beau pried Sierra’s fingers from the knob but didn’t release her hand. “I finished my business with Austin. Walk with me?”

“Sure.”

He ushered Sierra outside then led her around the corner. Single-story homes lined the street and a small park sat in the middle of the block. “If you’re cold we can talk in the diner,” he said. The afternoon temperature was in the low forties, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“I’m fine. The sun feels good on my face.”

They strolled in silence, Beau holding Sierra’s hand. That she didn’t pull away stroked his ego. When they reached the park, he guided her to the lone bench near the swing set. “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I won’t pressure you for an explanation about last night.”

“That’s generous, but…” She twirled a button on her coat then noticed her action and shoved her hand into a pocket. “How do you feel about your dad and my aunt dating?” she asked.

Amused by the delay tactic, he chuckled. Heck, no one was more surprised than Beau that his father was goo-goo eyes over Jordan Peterson.

“I’m serious, Beau. Are you okay with their relationship? Because I believe my aunt really cares for your father.”

He’d be a lot happier about the matchup if Jordan didn’t distract his father from his ranch chores, but Beau didn’t want to discuss the older couple. “They’re both adults. They don’t need anyone’s permission to date.” He opened his mouth to change the subject when a shout down the block drew his attention.

“Z-Zorro!” Duke’s stepson, Luke, chased Duke’s German shepherd. The dog sprinted, the leash flying in the air behind him. The seven-year-old was no match for Zorro and Beau made a dash for the sidewalk.

“Zorro, heel!” Beau extended his arm and the dog skidded to a stop, his legs becoming entangled with his leash. Luke caught up, his little chest heaving.

“Th-thanks, Uncle Beau.” Luke took the leash. “B-bad dog, Zorro.”

“Where’s your mom?” Normally Angie didn’t let her son out of her sight.

“T-talking with Dad in the jail. I was t-taking Zorro for a w-walk but—” Luke sucked in several breaths.

Pitying the kid’s miniature lungs Beau said, “Come with me. There’s someone who’d like to meet Zorro.” Beau steered Luke and the dog toward the park bench.

“Hi, Luke,” Sierra said. “I guess Zorro wanted a run, not a walk.”

Luke smiled. “He went after M-Molly.”

Sierra spoke to Beau. “My aunt takes her seeing-eye dog for a stroll around town in the afternoons.” She switched her attention to Luke. “Is Molly still with my aunt?”

“Yeah. M-Molly never runs off.”

Sierra rubbed Zorro’s head. “Poor boy…chasing after a lady who doesn’t want you.”

Beau cringed. He hoped Sierra’s comment hadn’t been meant for him.

“Luke! Luke, where are you?”

“Here!” Beau waved at his brother and Duke jogged toward the group.

“What happened?” Duke asked.