Page 42 of Stormy Ride

“Pancakes,” said Harlan. “I like pancakes and syrup.”

“You’re easy.” Savanna winked at him.

Harlan chuckled. He obviously liked Savanna.

“I’m in for pancakes,” I said. “I’ll fry up a pan of bacon while you make the batter.”

To Billy’s horror, Brenda stayed for breakfast. She couldn’t go open up her dress store in Shelby because Billy was trying his damndest to break up with her and she wasn’t letting it happen.

I cleaned up the dishes and loaned Savanna Uncle Carson’s umbrella to get to her truck.

“See you in a while,” I said. “I’m bringing Harlan shopping later.”

Dodging raindrops, Savanna ran to her truck, and I gave her a wave.

“She got one of them girly stores too?” asked Harlan.

“Nope. Feed store for the ranchers. Farm supplies. Tools and guns and like that.”

“I like her.”

“She’s nice. Just broke up with my friend Jack, who runs the roadhouse. Billy’s cousin. You’ll meet him later.”

“You call my sister yet?”

“I’ll do it as soon as we get to the station. I was going to leave you here to help Billy, but Brenda is here, and they need some privacy to sort out their mess. You need clothes and boots, so you can stick with me today.”

“Dogs go to the cop shop?”

“Yep. Their harnesses are in the back of the squad. Let’s try to stay as dry as possible getting to the truck.”

“I got no jacket to keep me dry,” said Harlan.

“You can wear one of mine for now.” I grabbed a lined denim jacket out of the front hall closet and Harlan put it on. A bit big but it would keep him dry.

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

I parked behind the building, and we ran for the back door in the pouring rain.

“Shit, I’m wet,” said Harlan. Water funneled off his dark hair and down his face.

Standing under the skimpy overhang, I fiddled with the key and finally got it to turn. The dogs pushed in first and ran the length of the building at top speed to get to Molly.

“The dogs are in a hurry.”

I laughed. “Molly gives them a biscuit when they get here in the morning. They don’t like to keep her waiting.”

We could hear her talking to the dogs as we walked down the hall and into the squad room. “This is Harlan, Molly.”

She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Harlan. You look about the same age as Tammy.”

Harlan nodded.

“Would you like a donut?” Molly pushed the box across her desk towards him.

“Okay, sure.” Harlan picked out a donut and followed me to the break room where I showed him how to make coffee.

We sat down at the table with our mugs and Harlan asked, “What you got to do today…like being the sheriff of butt-fuck, Montana?” He laughed.

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