“It’s no problem. You might want to talk to the doctor about having her work with the horses here, then over at the BAC.”
“The BAC?”
“An hour here and there, with me. I read up on some therapies, and a lot use animals. It’s horses for Alice, though she likes the dogs, too. She grooms Sundown as if he’s going to a beauty pageant. She could handle more of that.”
“Maybe.” Her mind hadn’t gone there, but now that it had, she saw the benefits. “Maybe it would do her good to do some work, outside, in the stables. She’s been helping Clem in the kitchen. You’ve got a brain, Skinner.”
She gave him a friendly poke in the ribs.
“Sometimes I even use it.”
“The work makes her feel useful, and feeling useful makes her feel normal. You should talk to Dad about it. See how she does here, then we’ll talk about her spending a little time at the BAC, if she wants.”
Alice obviously enjoyed the evening. She talked to her mother about the sweater she’d started, and, surprisingly, to Hec about the horses, watched Rory’s little video countless times.
For himself, Callen bided his time. Under starlight with Chase slipping off to Jessica’s, and Rory to a date with Chelsea, he sat with Sam on the front porch.
Cigars and whisky equaled a good way to end the day.
“You put in a lot of time with Alice,” Sam said after a long stretch of easy silence.
“She put in a lot of time with me.”
“Before we go into that, I’ve got something to ask you. I figure, since I don’t remember a time you weren’t, you’ll be straight with me on it.”
Callen felt the quick, slippery knot slide and twist in his belly. He’d been preparing for the boot to drop about Bodine, and had yet to formulate answers to questions her father might ask.
“There might’ve been a few times I slid under the straight line about things Chase and I got into.”
“Not if I asked you direct.”
“No, not if you asked me direct.” Evasion? Well, that was just being cautious about something or other. Lying was lying.
“So I’m asking you direct: Are you planning to go after Garrett Clintok?”
The knot loosened. He found it a hell of a lot easier to answer that than a father’s what-are-your-intentions-regarding-my-daughter.
“He’s out on bail.” Lazily now, Callen dragged on the cigar, watched the smoke trail off into the night. “I’m healed up. It’s going to be up to him whether we have a conversation or something more … physical. But I can’t let it go. It’ll be harder if you ask me to let it go, but I still couldn’t.”
“What I’m going to ask is you don’t go start that conversation alone. I don’t doubt you can handle yourself, Cal, but you’d fight fair. It’s how you’re built. He won’t, as that’s not how he’s built. He’s got a streak in him, and always has.”
Sam sipped some whisky. “And now he’s ruined himself around here. Nobody’s going to take his side on this. Can’t say what the courts will do, but nobody’s going to take his side. He’ll never be a peace officer again wherever he goes—and go he will, if he doesn’t end up in prison. He’ll want to do more than bloody your nose.”
Sam drew on his cigar, let the smoke go. “I’m going to ask you for that. Don’t go for him alone. Take somebody you trust to bear witness to a fair fight.”
It grated some, but the fact was Sam Longbow invariably talked plain sense. “I won’t go alone.”
“All right then. Now, why don’t you tell me what you want to ask me about? If it’s my daughter’s hand, I’m likely to give it, but it’s still going to twist up my heart.”
The knot came back, slipperier than before. “I’m not … we’re not going there right yet.”
“All right. To save us the awkward moment when you are, consider it already given. We don’t have to go back here.”
“I don’t have any land,” Callen heard himself saying.
Sam angled his head, gave Callen a considering study. “Did you blow through all the money you made in California on whisky and wild women?”
“Only a small percentage of it.”
“You’re planning to keep working for a living, I expect.”
“As long as you don’t fire me, I’m good.”
“Well, her grandmother didn’t fire me when I slipped off with her daughter, so you’re safe on that. Now, if you didn’t want to talk to me about that, what’s on your mind?”
“How would you feel about hiring on Alice?”
“Hiring Alice?”
“I was going to ask how you’d feel about letting her help some with the horses. Stable work. She’s damn good at grooming, and she could muck. She’s strong. The limp hampers her some, especially if she’s tired, but she’s strong. She’s got a good way with horses. The dogs now, too. I guess it’s animals altogether. But when I thought more on it, it seemed to me she’d get more pride out of it if she drew a little pay. Wouldn’t have to be much.”
As the night birds called, Sam contemplated his cigar. “I never thought of it.”
“I said something to Maureen before, and I know she wants to talk to Nana and to the doctor. That’d be the right way, but you run the ranch, so…”
“It’s a good thought, Cal. A good one. And judging from what I’ve seen the last couple weeks, the right one, too. We’ll see if we can make it work. Somebody’s coming.”
Even before he saw the headlights, Sam heard the engine, off in the quiet of the night.
“Late for visiting,” Sam added, but crossed his boots on his stretched-out legs, a man confident in his own.
“Sheriff Tate,” Callen said quietly when the truck got close enough.
They waited as Tate stopped the truck, got out.
“Evening, Sam, Cal.”
“Evening, Bob. You look tired out.”
“Because I am.”
“How about a chair, a whisky, and a cigar?”
“If I take the cigar, I’ll pay for a week. You could have a hazmat team hose me down, my wife would still smell it. But the whisky I wouldn’t mind. I’m off duty.”
“Take the chair.” Callen got to his feet. “I’ll get the whisky.”
“Appreciate that.”
Before Callen could reach the door, Bodine opened it. “Sheriff.”
“Evening, Bodine.”
“I’m just getting him a whisky.”
“I’ll get it.”
When she shut the door again, Callen picked up the cigar he’d set in the ashtray, leaned back against the porch rail.
“I was on my way home, and felt I should come on by, tell you where we’re at. I’ve been talking to some people the last few days, pushing on the business Callen passed on that Alice passed to him. People we know are active or more than sympathetic to militias. True patriots being one. That’s the phrase she used to you?”
“A couple times,” Callen agreed.
He paused when Bodine came out. “Thanks. Long day.” He took a slow sip. “Long, dry one. Those people dug into those groups aren’t very likely to cooperate with a police investigation, especially with one who isn’t what they call a ‘constitutional sheriff.’”