Taming a Texas Devil - Katie Lane Page 0,50
Dixie had told more than one lie when she’d messed up and didn’t want to get in trouble. Once, Dixie and her friend had made a blowtorch with Winona’s hairspray and caught the gardener’s shed on fire. A kid stunt like that made more sense than someone purposely setting the trailer on fire. But Cheyenne looked so distraught that Dixie didn’t push it.
“Well, we’ll figure it all out later.” She glanced around. “Where’s Queenie?”
Cheyenne’s face fell. “That’s another problem.” When Dixie looked back at the trailer with wide eyes, Cheyenne shook her head. “No, she’s okay. Well, sorta. She got a little excited when everyone came out and started shouting and turning on their hoses. She jumped out of my arms and ran up a tree.”
Dixie followed Cheyenne’s gaze to the huge oak tree. There was her cat sitting on one of the top branches. Dixie wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t like Queenie hadn’t climbed a tree before—at least, she wasn’t concerned until she noticed the tree was on fire. Two of the branches that hung over the trailer were smoldering. Cheyenne must have noticed it at the same time because they both yelled the cat’s name and raced to the tree.
“Get down, Queenie,” Dixie yelled up at the cat. “I mean it. Get down right now, you ornery cat, or you’ll get no tuna with supper tonight.” But Queenie didn’t even look at her.
“I’m so sorry, Dixie,” Cheyenne said. “I didn’t realize the tree was on fire. I’ll climb up and get her.”
“You’ll do no such a thing. I’ll go.” Dixie grabbed a low-hanging branch. But before she could pull herself up, strong arms encircled her waist and set her back on the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lincoln asked.
“I’m getting my cat out of a burning tree.”
He glanced up and heaved an exasperated sigh. He released her and yelled at the neighbors. “Get some water on this tree!” The neighbors tried to follow his orders, but their hoses weren’t long enough for their spray to effectively reach the burning branches. When Lincoln saw that, he turned to her and pointed a finger. “Stay right here. That’s an order, Deputy.”
“But my—”
“That’s an order.”
Before Dixie could argue anymore, he reached up and grabbed the limb and pulled himself into the tree. Like everything else he did, he seemed to be an expert at climbing trees. He avoided the burning branches until he got high enough so he could move over. When he was on the branch just beneath Queenie, he called down.
“She won’t come to me and I can’t go up to get her. My weight will break the branch.”
Dixie stomped her foot in frustration. “That stubborn cat. I wish we had her cat treats. She’d come for those.”
“Or if Lincoln was Luke Bryan,” Cheyenne said. “Queenie would follow Luke anywhere.”
“Luke Bryan. Of course.” Dixie pulled out her phone and tapped it until she found what she wanted. Then she turned up the volume and held her phone over her head so Queenie could hear it.
It took until the second verse of “Drunk on You” for Luke to finally draw Queenie’s attention. The cat got up and daintily jumped from branch to branch until she finally landed on the ground at Dixie’s feet. Dixie scooped her up and held her tightly as she called to Lincoln. “I got her. You can come down.”
Lincoln agilely made his way down until he reached the lowest branch and his boots slipped out from under him. He fell out of the tree and onto his back with a muffled grunt.
Dixie handed Queenie to Cheyenne and raced over to kneel next to him. “Oh my God, Lincoln, are you okay? Did you break a bone? Your back? Lincoln, talk to me.”
He sucked in a wheezy breath before he spoke. “Luke Bryan? Are you kidding me?”
The volunteer fire department finally arrived. It was too late for the mobile home, but the two men and one woman did a good job of saving the oak tree. Only two branches burned before they put the fire out.
While they worked to make sure there were no live embers left on the tree or in the trailer, Lincoln and Dixie interrogated every person at the trailer park to see if they had seen anyone messing around the Dailys’ trailer. No one had, and Dixie started to doubt Cheyenne’s story even more . . . until she found a hole cut in the chain link fencing right behind the Dailys’