Taming a Texas Devil - Katie Lane Page 0,18
possible on him.
She pinned on a bright smile. “Hi, Mr. Daily.” She held out a hand. “Deputy Dixie Meriwether.”
He pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped off his hands before taking hers for a brief shake. “Cal Daily. Nice to meet you.” He looked between her and his daughter. “What’s going on, Deputy? Is there a problem?”
“Just a tiny one, but not anything to get too concerned about. I’m so sorry to hear about your mama. God bless the mamas of the world and may she rest in peace.”
“Thank . . . you.” He glanced at Cheyenne who was still cuddling Queenie close. “What kind of problem? And where did you get that cat?”
“It’s my . . . official deputy cat. And there’s really no problem. Just typical kids’ antics. Nothing to get upset about. I’m going to let Cheyenne tell you all about it later. Right now, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to help me out. Cheyenne mentioned that you worked on cars and I happen to be in desperate need of a mechanic. My patrol car seems to be making this weird pinging noise.”
He hesitated for a second before he nodded. “Sure. I can take a look at it. Just pop the hood.”
Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t found what was causing the pinging noise, but Dixie had regaled him with some of her funniest pageant stories and had him grinning like a fool.
“I’ve heard some amusing stories in my life—especially when I worked as a bartender at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s in my early twenties—but I never thought the funniest stories would come from beauty pageants.” He slammed the hood closed. “And here I thought those women did nothing but fight.”
“There were a few of those, but mostly we got along like sorority sisters. Being in a beauty pageant is hard work and stressful and as my mama always says, ‘Family warms the heart, but friends warm your soul.’ Now what do I owe you, Mr. Daily?”
“Please call me Cal. And not a thing. I couldn’t find the ping.”
“That doesn’t matter. You took the time to look and I get a certain amount from the county for upkeep on my vehicle anyway.”
He paused. “I tell you what. You could use an oil change and the fluids refilled. Bring it by here next week and I’ll give it a more thorough check. We’ll find that pinging yet.”
She doubted it. “I think we’ve got us a deal, Cal. Now I better get going. A deputy’s job is never done.”
He wiped his hands off on the rag and squinted at her. “I guess you aren’t going to tell me what has Cheyenne looking like a dog on bath day.”
She glanced over at Cheyenne, who was sitting on the front steps cuddling Queenie and looking forlorn. “Nope, that’s her job. But I will say this. I think she’s learned her lesson so I wouldn’t be too hard on her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Deputy Meriwether.”
“Dixie. Call me Dixie.”
He smiled. “Thanks for bringing her home, Dixie.” He paused. “I thought you were a lot like Sheriff Willaby. He’s had it out for me since I came back to Simple. I can’t move without the man pulling me over for one trivial thing or another. But you’re nothing like him.”
“I take that as the highest compliment.” She leaned in and whispered. “Just don’t tell him I said so.”
By the time Dixie collected Queenie and had her strapped in her kitty car seat, Cal was talking with Cheyenne. Like any guilty girl, Cheyenne was crying. Like any good daddy, Cal pulled her into his arms and held her close. It seemed like everything was going to turn out just fine. As Dixie drove away, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d had a part in making things turn out. Even if she hadn’t done anything at all except drive a sweet young thing home and try to put her daddy in a good mood so he wouldn’t be too mad at her. And yet, it felt like she’d done something important.
Maybe being a deputy wasn’t all that hard. Maybe she should quit hiding in the office and start getting out more.
On the way out of the trailer park, she noticed the other trailers weren’t kept up as nicely as Cal Daily’s. Most were rusted with cracked windows and broken screen doors. If the yards weren’t filled with weeds, they were filled with tireless vehicles. Dixie had seen poverty before, but never