The Cowboy Next Door & Jenna's Cowboy Hero. Brenda Minton

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      It was after ten o’clock Friday night when Jay saw headlights easing down the long drive to the old farmhouse that Lacey had rented. He dropped his book and went to the window.

      “Who is it?” His mom turned down the volume on the news program she was watching.

      “I’m not sure. Someone pulling into Lacey’s.”

      Lacey’s house was dark.

      “You should go check on them. They don’t have a phone yet.” His mom had joined him at the window. She peered out into the dark night. Clouds covered the full moon but Jay could see stars to the south.

      “Mom, I think they can take care of themselves.” He shrugged off his own curiosity. “I’m not her keeper.”

      “You’re also a nice guy. Don’t try to pretend you’re not.” His mom gave him the mom look. “Jay, she’s a sweet girl and she’s worked hard to change her life.”

      “I’m sure she has. But I also don’t think you can take in every stray that comes along.”

      “Okay, fine.” She peered out the window again and then shrugged as if she didn’t care.

      “If it makes you happy, I’ll go check on her. But I have a feeling she isn’t going to appreciate it.”

      “Maybe not, but I will.” She smiled at him, and he knew he’d lost the battle.

      He grabbed a flashlight and his sidearm, sliding it into the holster he hadn’t removed when he’d walked through the door thirty minutes earlier.

      Pete woofed from the dog bed near the fireplace. The dog didn’t bother getting up. He was retired from the police force and usually didn’t care who did what.

      Jay walked out the door and headed across a field bathed in silver light as the clouds floated overhead. Pete woofed again and he heard the dog door flap as the lazy animal ran to catch up with him. Obviously Pete had decided the action was worth getting up for. Five years of sniffing drugs and searching for lost kids, and now he spent most of his time sniffing rabbit trails and chewing up perfectly good shoes.

      A shadow lingered in the front yard of the old farmhouse. Pete lumbered to Jay’s side, growling a low warning. Jay’s hand went to his sidearm and he walked more carefully, deliberately keeping an eye on the form that had stilled when the dog barked.

      Pete took off, his long legs pounding and his jaws flapping. The person in the yard ran for the car and was scrambling onto the hood. The outdoor security light had been shot out by kids nearly a year earlier. As clouds covered the moon, Jay thought about the mistake of not getting that light fixed.

      “Who’s there?” He recognized the trembling voice.

      “Pete, down.” The dog immediately obeyed Jay’s command. He walked through the gate and crossed the lawn to find Lacey cowering on the hood of her own car. He should have recognized the headlights of her Chevy.

      “Where in the world did he come from?” She didn’t move to climb down from the car. He almost laughed, but she had books and she might throw them.

      “He’s mine.”

      “Do you always sic him on people when they come home at night?”

      He held a hand out and she refused the offer. Lacey Gould, afraid? How did he process that information? She always seemed a little like David, confronting the world with five stones and a lot of faith.

      And she collected dogs. Of course, not real ones.

      “I didn’t know it was you. I saw a car pulling up to a dark house, late.”

      She grasped the books and shot him a “stupid male” look. “So, I can’t come home late?”

      “You were in Springfield this late?”

      “Do you interrogate all of your renters?”

      “No, I don’t interrogate all of them. It was a question, Lacey. You were going to Springfield after work. It’s late. We saw headlights down here and we were worried. Mom was worried.”

      Her shoulders slumped. “I have to get inside. I have the breakfast shift and I have to be at work at five in the morning.”

      “Let me help you down.”

      “Jay, do me a favor, grab your dog.”

      “He won’t hurt you.”

      “He’s huge and he has big teeth.”

      “You’re afraid of dogs.” More information to process. He reached for Pete’s collar. “What about that dog collection of yours?”

      He shouldn’t have asked. Asking meant he wanted to know something about her, something that didn’t quite make sense. He wanted to deny that she was a mystery to solve.

      He definitely didn’t want to get involved.

      “I love collecting dogs.” She stared at Pete. “The kind without teeth.”

      “Toy ones.” He smiled and she glared.

      “Don’t tell anyone. How embarrassing would it be if everyone knew?”

      “People can be afraid of dogs, Lacey.”

      “It’s a ridiculous fear. Some dogs bite.”

      “Pete doesn’t bite.”

      She smiled. “But if he did, he’d take a big bite.”

      “He chews on shoes, but he barely chews his own dog food.”

      “You chew it for him?”

      “Now that’s disgusting.”

      She slid down from the hood of the car, but stayed on the other side of the vehicle. “I need to get some sleep. Thank you for checking on us.”

      He nodded and in the sliver of moonlight that filtered through a break in the clouds he read the book in her hand. Algebra 2. She hugged it tight to her chest.

      “You don’t have to know all of my secrets, Jay. At least you know I wasn’t in town and up to no good.”

      “I never thought that.” But hadn’t he wondered? When she’d said she was going to Springfield tonight, hadn’t he suspected something?

      “You did. And that’s fine.”

      She turned and walked away. He held on to Pete’s collar and watched her go. Her back was straight and her step was less than bouncy.

      Pete pulled, trying to go after her. Jay almost agreed with the dog, but decided against it. One thing he didn’t need was more information about Lacey Gould.

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