Gambling On a Heart. Sara Walter Ellwood
wrapped her arms around his neck.
The house was dark and quiet as he carried Mandy down the hall to her bedroom. He pulled off her sodden shoes, laid her down onto the frilly pink comforter, and left her to fetch a damp washcloth from the bathroom.
When he returned, he wiped the worst of the grime from her face, arms, and legs. Her black hair tangled around the limp sleeves of her blue dress. The scuffed and wet white patent leather shoes were unsalvageable. He didn’t have much hope for the filthy frilly dress either.
While the adults had been enjoying traditional dances and the whole garter and flower throwing silliness, Mandy and Bobby had played in the water of the lake at the edge of the front yard. If he hadn’t wanted to escape after he’d caught the blue garter Dylan deliberately tossed to him and after Tracy had caught Charli’s bouquet, he might not have found the two kids to get them the hell out of the water.
Besides her newfound friendship with Bobby, Mandy had attached herself to Tracy in a way he’d never seen her do with any other woman. Not that Mandy had much opportunity to become close to women outside of his family. Other than her babysitters and Deputy Dawn Madison, Mandy wasn’t around too many females.
With the worst of the dirt off her and on the washcloth, Mandy awakened enough to help him remove the dress and slip a nightgown over her head. He took her hand and led her into the bathroom across the hall where he helped her brush her teeth, then attempted to untangle her snarled hair with a brush.
Giving up on the hair, he carried her back to her bed and tucked the blankets around her small body. She yawned and folded her hands over her chest. With her eyes closed, she murmured the age-old bedtime prayer recited by children everywhere. “Now I lay me down to sleep...”
He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled as she asked God to take care of every member of her family, including her pony and horse.
“And let Momma know I love her, and me and Daddy miss her.”
He prepared for the twist in his gut when she asked God to send her mother home soon.
“And finally, Baby Jesus, keep Miz Tracy and Bobby safe. Amen.” She opened her eyes and smiled lazily up at him.
He swallowed past the thickness in his throat.
“I thought I should stop asking God to send Momma back to us, since I know now she can’t come home. It might make her sad because she can’t. But I thought it would be nice to add Miz Tracy and Bobby to my list.”
His smile grew stiff. He remembered their conversion over the wedding dinner. The little wheels in Mandy’s head were working. She hadn’t included Tracy and Bobby into her prayer without considering possibilities Zack didn’t even want to think about.
“That’s nice. Bobby is your friend,” he said past the dry tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
She yawned and shrugged under the hideously pink bedspread. The ruffle must have tickled her chin, because she pushed it away. “I like Miz Tracy, too. She’s your friend, isn’t she?”
Tracy and him friends...fat chance. He hoped he never had to deal with her again. “I suppose.” He patted her covered chest. “Nighty-night, baby girl. I love you.”
“Nighty-night, Daddy.” She grinned at him. “I love you more.”
He leaned over her and kissed her forehead. “I love you ’til the cows come home,” he whispered, and into her arms placed the stuffed bunny Lisa had given to her when she was a baby.
“We aren’t missin’ any cows.” She giggled and hugged the raggedy stuffed animal. “So, none of ’em needs to come home.”
It was an old ritual. He chuckled and stood, giving her one last kiss on her forehead and feathered back her black hair. “Then I’ll have an even longer time to love you. Now go to sleep.”
She nodded, yawning again. He tucked the sheet and comforter around her. For several moments after he’d turned out the light, he stood by the door until her breathing evened into sleep.
He snagged a beer from the fridge, then made his way into the big master bedroom next to Mandy’s room. His grandparents had built on the master suite when they’d married. He’d completely gutted the bathroom and modernized it, much as he had the kitchen, when he’d moved in almost two years ago. He’d never be as good at carpentry as Dylan Quinn was. Dylan had practically rebuilt the old house on Butterfly Ranch, but Zack had learned from trial and error and called in the experts when he got in over his head. The work had helped him come to terms with living in a house he’d always dreamed of sharing with Tracy.
Like the rest of the house, the walls of the room were off-white and the wood trim aged oak, but the flooring was plush forest green carpet, which his feet sunk into as he crossed to the sliding glass door leading out onto the patio. He looked out over the darkened land. A horse whinnied in the distance, and from somewhere out on the ridge, a coyote howled for its mate. Stars twinkled overhead and the last of the season’s fireflies flickered in the tall grass, which he really had to find the time to mow.
He drank from the longneck bottle. How many times had he and Tracy lain on the bank of the lake out in the pasture with fireflies dancing around them?
He gulped down more beer and turned away from the yard. What the hell was wrong with him? She’d cheated on him with his best friend. Regardless of what Mandy was planning in that precocious little mind of hers, he was never falling in love again. It hurt too damn much when it all fell apart.
Setting the bottle on the patio table, he pulled his smart phone from his pocket and checked his voicemail. The only message was from his mother-in-law wanting to know if he’d considered coming to Wyoming for Thanksgiving.
He supposed he should think about it. The Fosters had only seen their granddaughter a half-dozen times since Lisa’s death two years ago, and for all of those times, they’d come to Texas. But he wasn’t ready to go back. He’d sworn he’d never set foot in Wyoming again after Lisa’s death.
Surprised not to have a call from his second in command, he dialed Dawn Madison’s cell number. She answered and he asked, “Madison, what’s going on?”
“Sheriff, it’s your day off. Why the hell are you calling me?”
“Because I am the sheriff and figure it’s my duty to know if the people who elected me are safe.”
“Well, other than watching Simms get fatter with each creampuff he stuffs into his mouth and listening to Grant complaining about not getting any, all’s well in Dodge.”
He winced and looked up at the starry heavens. Larry Simms was on his way to clogging his every artery. Zack tried to promote good health among his deputies, but Larry didn’t care. Zack only prayed the man didn’t croak on county time. The paperwork would be a bitch. Doug Grant wasn’t the only one not getting any, but Grant’s reason–his wife had just had a baby–was a temporary one. There was definite light at the end of his forced celibacy tunnel. Zack’s was a black hole.
“So, are Kennedy and Timmons out on patrol?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Those cattle rustlers are getting bold.”
“Boss, do you take me for an idiot?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to think you doubted my abilities because I’m a woman.”
He laughed and shook his head. He was sometimes slow on the uptake, but he got the point this time loud and clear. “Madison, you and I both know I don’t think that.”
“Then why the hell are you calling on your night off?”
He sighed and picked up the beer. Because, besides my daughter, my ranch, and my job, I don’t have a life. “Take care, Dawn. Call me if you need backup.”
“Goodnight, Zack.” She hung up.
He slipped