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“Fine, fine. What was the name of that ranch again where the guy, the gnome stealer, worked?”
“Um…Rocking Double D.”
Kelly’s third youngest, Kyle, stopped by for her to adjust his swim goggles, and then was gone. “I’ve heard of that place. It was in the paper last month.”
Montana, the fourth largest state in the US, is huge. With less than a million people living in the entire state, there was a lot of open land. Lots of ranch land. For Montana, I was considered a city dweller and rarely, if ever, became involved with ranch life. The only time I saw ranchers was at the county fair when they brought in their cows, sheep and other animals to promote their ranch, sell or compete for blue ribbons. I didn’t know anything at all about growing crops or raising cattle. I got my food at the farmers market, grocery store or butcher shop.
But Kelly had grown up in Bozeman and knew lots of people, and lots of people knew her—way more than I did. Ranchers, townies, whomever. Her parents knew even more. Add Goldie to the mix and I swear they knew everyone between Butte and Billings. But the fact that the Rocking Double D ranch was in theChroniclemeant city folk like me should know about it, too.
“A cow there had triplets.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say. In fact, it distracted me so much I sprayed sunscreen up my arm and into my hair. I now smelled like coconut and chlorine. I had to imagine triplets, then a cow giving birth to them. How big was a calf at birth? I couldn’t picture the mother cow with three in there. Her belly must have grazed the ground.
“I didn’t even know it was possible. Triplets?”
“I guess it happens on occasion, but not all three usually live. Some kind of mother-rejecting-the-extra-calves-thing. Who knows, but it’s rare enough all three lived that the paper picked up on it.”
“Huh.” What the hell did a vial of bull semen in a gnome have to do with triplet cows?
6
“Absolutely nothing,” Ty said that night after dinner. He’d come over to check on me. Which I didn’t mind. Not one bit. “No one can plan a cow giving birth to triplets. It just happens. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the vial.”
“Triplets or not, the vial most likely came from the Rocking Double D ranch. It makes sense. Morty Moore must have stolen it from there.”
We sat on my front steps. They led to the front door painted a deep pumpkin, which stood open. Two planters were on either side filled with bright geraniums and other plants I couldn’t name.
I’d showered and changed back into shorts and a T-shirt after the pool, but skipped shoes. Ty sat close to me, his hands resting on bent knees. I could see the small scratches on his forearms from the explosion and our dive into the ditch. He smelled of soap and clean laundry. It was hard not to look at his mouth, not to lean in and kiss him again. The attraction was almost too strong to resist. His kisses were like a drug and I wanted another hit, but being chaperoned by two kids kept things G-rated.
“You’re probably right. He may have been trying to make a little money on the side. But we don’t know what his job is at the ranch or how he had access to the vials. And, why the hell did he stick the vial in the gnome?” His eyes dropped to my mouth as they seemed to always do. Maybe he was having a similar affliction. “You smell good.” He reached up and ran a hand over my hair.
“Chlorine,” I murmured as I leaned into his palm. It was warm, calloused, and the simple gesture was soothing, like a hug.
The boys were in the garage puttering around, one minute pulling out their scooters, the next getting a soccer ball to kick. They were self-entertaining and being creative. No TV or video games in sight.
The street was quiet except for a lawnmower in the distance and the smell of cut grass in the air. The crows had set up home in the pine tree across the street and their cawing or whatever their talk was called could drive someone to drink. The Colonel took his slingshot out at least once a day to scare them off. Right now though, they were quiet.
The dinner dishes were done, the evening had cooled down and my skin glowed pink from the inside out thanks to the sun. I heard the boys chattering away. It was a simple summer night and I was content. After the crazy morning and the insanity of the pool with nine kids, it was calm and quiet. Peaceful.
“What are you guys up to?” I called. I didn’t want to move away from Ty to find out. His hand ran absently over my knee. Zing! If the boys weren’t yelling at each other or crying in pain, I tended to keep out of it. Especially now when a hot guy told me I smelled good, his hand was on me and his mouth within kissing range.
“Working on our bikes!” Zach hollered back.
“Great. Occupied kids.” Ty leaned in and kissed me at that soft, highly sensitive spot behind my ear. I couldn’t help but gasp at the contact. Heat shot straight south.
“Um…any word on Morty Moore? Has he shown up yet?” I asked Ty, trying to keep my sanity. It was one thing to practically climb him like a monkey behind a fire truck, another when the kids could pop out of the garage at any time. “We know he didn’t die in the explosion and he was here running away from you last night. Oh, God.” His warm hand moved up the bare skin of my thigh, his fingertips just below the edge of my shorts.
He nipped at the spot where my shoulder met my neck. Hot flash!
“The DMV provided us with his license photo,” he murmured, as he kissed the sting away. “Morty Moore was definitely the man on your doorstep last night.”
Ty would be able to identify him better than I. They’d stood face to face long enough for that. I’d only seen the man as he ran off down the street.
“The fire department talked with Moores in Arizona. Their son, Morty?—”
I did all I could to keep my hands at my sides, even clenched them into fists. They wanted desperately to curl into his hair and pull his head about five inches lower. “What kind of parent names their son Morty Moore? He must have been teased mercilessly in school.”
I felt Ty grin into my neck. He had to agree with me. “Morty has been living in the house. With the economy, the Moores aren’t even trying to sell. They haven’t heard from him in over a week. The whole business has been handed over to the police.”
