Cowgirl Up! (16 page)

The phone stopped ringing and Sam could hear a voice leaving a message on her machine.

“Hey doc,” said Mitch. “I wanted to let you know I can’t meet tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

Sam froze. Her eyes were locked with Cheyenne’s as he slowly rose and stood up. The moment had passed, and she could see the anger in his face.

“Before you jump to any conclusions, let me explain,” Sam started. “Mitch called the night he was fired and wanted to talk to me. He said he thought he knew what was going on but he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. He asked me to meet him but I told him it would have to wait until Sunday.”

Cheyenne was clearly furious. “Samantha, Mitch is one of the top suspects in Marietta’s murder. He was caught putting a threatening note in the Wilson’s mailbox and there are inconsistencies in his background check. It’s not safe for you to meet with him!”

“But when I agreed to meet him it was before Marietta was murdered and before you got your background report.”

“Are you still going to meet with him?”

Sam hesitated. “I don’t know.” She could remember seeing Mitch in her rearview mirror rubbing
Brilliante’s
neck when she left the ranch that morning in March. She couldn’t believe someone with so much compassion for animals could be a killer.

Cheyenne grabbed Sam by the arms and lifted her up so they were eye to eye. “Listen, Sam. This is not just some jealous rage I’m feeling. Okay, maybe it is, but he could be a killer and I don’t want you meeting with him.”

Sam bowed her back. She’d never backed down from a fight, especially with Cheyenne, and she wasn’t going to start now.

“I don’t believe he’s the killer and I don’t believe you have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Cheyenne slowly put Sam down and released his grip. He grabbed his shirt and put it on as he walked toward the door. He turned around and faced her. “I guess that’s true. I don’t have that right.” He walked out quietly and closed the door. A few seconds later she could hear the Boxter start up and roar down her driveway.

Sam picked up her clothes as Dundee came out of the bedroom and gave her a sleepy look. She reached down and sadly stroked his head. “Guess I’ll never find out if cowboys go commando now.”

AFTER CHEYENNE left Sam called Isabella. “Is your invitation still open for that sleepover tonight?”

“You bet! How come you’re home so early? It’s only 10:00 o’clock.”

Sam sighed. “Cheyenne and I had an argument and parted ways, probably for good.”

“Get your butt over here sister and tell me everything.”

Sam threw some clothes in a bag, grabbed dog food for Dundee and the two of them climbed into her truck and headed for Denver. .

An hour later she was in Isabella’s bedroom eating Hershey’s chocolate kisses, drinking red wine and spilling her guts to her best friend.

“I don’t know what made me so bull headed all of a sudden,” Sam told Isabella. “I just didn’t like it when he got so bossy. Why are men like that?”

Isabella shrugged. “Some women like bossy men and some don’t. You’re one of those who don’t.”

“Is Max bossy with you?”

Isabella thought for a moment. “Well, he hasn’t been yet, but he probably could be under the right circumstances. You have to remember one thing, Sam. You’re caught up in all this murder stuff now and that’s serious business. Cheyenne was probably trying to protect you.”

Sam popped another Hershey’s in her mouth. “Yeah, maybe I was too hard on him,” She said sadly. “Geez, and I was about to find out if cowboys really go commando when the shit hit the fan.” She sighed again. She was doing a lot of sighing that night. “I guess I have too much pride to go crawling back to him now and I know he won’t apologize to me. I guess we’re at a Mexican standoff.”

Sam looked over at my friend and grinned. “Can I say that in front of you?

“Why not? You’re dad is always teasing me about being a wetback.”

Sam laughed. “How do you stand us? We’re totally a politically incorrect family.”

“Yeah, you’re
basura blanca
— white trash, sister. If it wasn’t for Mason I wouldn’t be able to tolerate any of you.”

They both giggled and talked until late in the night. When Sam’s head finally hit the pillow she was out like a light. Sometime in the early morning she woke up and thought she heard coyotes howling in the distance. I must be dreaming, she thought sleepily. They don’t have any coyotes in Denver. Then she drifted back to a restless sleep.

The next morning, Isabella and Sam slept in late but they managed to get up in time to get ready for church. Jaime was going to read a special poem he had written for his priest that morning so the whole Ramirez family was going to attend Mass at their old historic Catholic Church, Our Lady of Guadalupe.

“Oh, God! Do I have a headache,” Sam moaned as she rushed to get ready. “I think I overdosed on chocolate last night, is that possible?

“Aye yi yi,” Isabella grabbed her head. “My head is pounding too. I don’t think it was the chocolate we overdosed on. I think it was that bottle of wine we downed with the chocolate that’s causing our problem this morning.”

It took a few aspirin and several cups of coffee before Sam felt better. The walk to church helped clear her head and by the time she sat down with Isabella and her parents in their pew she was back to normal.

A young Mexican family came down the aisle and the man stopped to shake hands with Jaime.

“
Como estas, Pablo?
” Jaime asked.

“
Muy bien, gracias,
” Pablo answered with a smile. “We are fine,” he said proudly.

“I’m teaching English to Pablo and his wife, Delores,” Jaime whispered to Sam as the couple settled in a pew across from them.

Sam smiled. Jaime was always teaching someone English.

At eleven o’clock, the church was filled to the brim with people waiting for Father John to begin the Mass. As the time grew later and Father John did not appear, Sam could hear murmuring growing among the congregation. “
Donde esta Padre Juan
?” Where was Father John? He was never late. Suddenly, a side door opened and one of the parishioners rushed over to Jaime and whispered something in his ear. Jaime immediately stood and followed the man out of the church. Everyone was overcome with curiosity and followed the two men out the door.

At first Sam didn’t understand what was happening. People were speaking excitedly in Spanish, running around and pointing toward a police car about a half block from the church. As Isabella and Sam pushed their way closer to the car, Sam could see why Father John was not in the church saying Mass. He was lying across the road in front of a police car. Jaime was lying under the wheels in the back. Sam had a feeling Mass was going to be
really
late that morning.

Isabella walked over, bent down and talked to her dad for a moment and then stood up and went over to speak to the policemen. On the sidewalk a small Hispanic woman with a box of tamales was crying and wailing in Spanish. Sam recognized Pablo standing next to her. More people surrounded the woman as if to protect her. Isabella went to Father John and spoke a few minutes and then walked back to the police. Seconds later she turned and came over to Sam, shaking her head.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“The police want to arrest that lady for selling tamales without a license. Her husband just died and she’s trying to earn money to feed her children. She’s a poor woman who speaks very little English and doesn’t understand what is going on. She’s frightened and afraid they will take her to jail. Father John was walking to church when he heard the woman crying and saw the police. He tried to talk to the officers but they wanted to take her to the police station. That’s when he laid down in the road to block the police car from moving. He sent someone to get my dad for help.” She cut her eyes over at Sam.

“Now this is what you call a
real
Mexican standoff!

The policemen looked around at the crowd and scratched their heads.

“I have an idea!” Isabella rushed over to the police and Sam could see her discussing something animatedly. They looked over at the poor, crying woman and then at each other. They shrugged their shoulders and held up their hands as if to say okay and then bent down to talk with Jaime and then to Father John.

A few seconds later, Jaime rose to his feet, brushed off his clothes and shook the policemen’s hands. People rushed over and helped Father John get up. He shook hands with the policemen and then they got in their car and drove away.

Applause and cheers erupted and the happy, enthusiastic crowd headed back to the church with a bewildered but smiling tamale lady. Isabella came back over to Sam.

“What did you do?” Sam asked

“I told the police that the church would help the woman get the license she needs tomorrow. I promised she wouldn’t sell anymore tamales until then, so they agreed to leave.”

When everyone was settled back in the church, Jaime got up and delivered his powerful and emotional poetic tribute to his priest. Tears flowed and people clapped when Father John got up to conduct the church services.

That Sunday Sam thought the Mass was the best she’d ever heard, even though it was all in Spanish and she only understood a few words.

Sam was in her office early on Monday morning. The phone rang and she hesitated a moment before answering it. Maybe it was Cheyenne. It wasn’t.

“Samantha, this is Sheriff Olson.”

“Oh, good morning Sheriff,” Sam answered trying not to sound too disappointed.

“I was wondering if you would come by my office sometime today so I can get your statement.”

“Sure thing. I have several appointments I need to make this morning, but after I finish I’ll head on over. I should be there by eleven, would that be okay?”

“That’ll work fine. Thanks”

Sam hung up and grabbed her gear. In a matter of minutes she and Dundee were on their way. Sam tried not to think about Cheyenne as she made her morning rounds. She hadn’t talked to him since Saturday night. Mitch hadn’t called back either.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked Dundee when they were stopped at a red light. They were heading for their last appointment that morning and Sam couldn’t get Cheyenne out of her mind. “You’d think a man would appreciate a woman who is strong and independent, wouldn’t you?”

Dundee put his head in her lap and licked her hand.

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up. You’re the only male I can talk to right now.”

Sam noticed two older gentlemen in the car next to her truck. They were watching her with bewilderment. What’s their problem, Sam thought to herself. Haven’t they ever seen someone talk to their dog before? Then she looked over and realized they couldn’t see Dundee. Oh, great. They probably think I’m some nut case riding around in my truck talking to myself. Sam rolled down her window.

“I’m talking to my dog,” She told them. “You can’t see him but he’s sitting beside me.”

The men smiled slowly and nodded their balding heads.

“No, really. He’s right here. Get up Dundee!” Sam commanded.

Dundee sat still and licked her hand again.

The light turned green and the old gentlemen drove off laughing and shaking their heads.

“Thanks a lot! You’re a big help!”

Dundee jumped over the seat to his pillow.

Minutes later they drove up to Ralph Anderson’s dairy farm. He had called earlier that morning and asked Sam to come out and give his bull, Sampson, a checkup.

“He’s not acting right,” Ralph had told her.

“Get him in a stall. I’m on my way.” Sam told him.

When she got there she jumped out of her truck with Dundee and they walked to the barn where Ralph was waiting. Sampson wasn’t in a stall.

“I couldn’t get Sampson to move, doc,” he told her when Sam gave him a questioning look.

“Well, let’s see if I can check him in the field. Where is he?”

Ralph pointed to a pasture where a mountain of cow dung was piled high and Sampson was lying down at the top.

“Where did all this cow manure come from?” Sam asked.

“I’ve been scraping the pasture every so often and piling it up. I’ve been letting it sit and purify, so to speak. When it’s good and ripe I’m going to call one of those fertilizer companies and sell it to them as ‘natural fertilizer’. “Hell, it doesn’t get any more natural than this!” Ralph said with a laugh.

The three of them approached Sampson. The big bull turned and gave them a curious look but didn’t move.

“What are his symptoms? Has he been off his feed, lethargic or what?”

“He doesn’t move from that spot, doc. I haven’t seen him eat much at all. He sits there from morning to night. It ain’t natural.”