Page 44 of Stormy Ride

“Big store,” said Harlan as we walked through the front door. “Savanna own this all herself?”

“I think so.” I inhaled the familiar smell of feed and leather and saddle soap. “Grab a cart.”

Harlan frowned. “We getting that much shit?”

“You go on calls with me, you gotta have clean clothes on.” I winked at him. “How else you gonna impress the local hot chicks?”

“Yeah, how else is right.”

We started with the clothing section, and I grabbed two packs of boxers in his size, two packages of socks, two pairs of blue jeans, one pair of black jeans for good, two snap front shirts, two plaid flannel shirts and four t-shirts.

Then he tried on jackets and picked one he liked. He chose a ball cap, and then he tried on boots. His broken-down trainers were candidates for the trash.

“Pick the boots you like for work in the barn and daily wear. Next time we’re in Great Falls, I’ll get you a pair of Harley Boots for good.”

Harlan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t the state pay you back for my clothes—at least until they dump me at sixteen?”

“I’m not taking the state’s money, Harlan, and I’m not dumping you when you’re sixteen. You can forget that if that’s the way you’re thinking.”

“Why you doing this, Sheriff?”

I shrugged. “Because I want to. No other reason. I can afford to give you a home—you and Tammy—and I want to. That’s it. I got no other motive.”

Harlan went quiet.

I pointed to the front cash, and he pushed the cart up there and unloaded it onto the counter. I put the whole works on my card and Bonnie bagged everything up. “Here you go, Sheriff. Nice to see you again. Boss is in her office.”

“Thanks, Bonnie.”

We said hi to Savanna, then ran to the truck through sheets of rain and tossed all of Harlan’s bags into the back seat.

“Shit, it’s pissing down.”

Max stood with his front paws on the console trying to push into the front seat with Harlan and it made him laugh. “Hey, you sit in the back.”

My cell rang and it was the office. “Molly?”

“They came back, Travis. The horse thieves came back to the Pellegrino ranch.”

“We’re on our way.” I flipped on the siren and the strobes and sped out of the feed store parking lot.

Sarge howled in the back seat at the siren.

“What happened?” asked Harlan.

“The horse thieves hit another rancher. They’d already scoped out her ranch a couple of weeks ago, and she was nervous. I’ll kill the fuckers when I catch them.” I grabbed my phone out of the cupholder and called Molly back.

“Get a bulletin out on the same rig again, Molly, and send a special alert to State Highway Patrol. If they’re in a hurry, they might be on the interstate.”

“Copy that, Travis.”

Pellegrino Ranch. Shelby.

Marilyn’s laneway was a swamp of muck and the squad sloshed around prospecting for traction. “I hate this fucking weather,” I yelled as I pounded the steering wheel and the dogs growled.

“You can stay in the truck with the dogs, Harlan. You don’t need to get wet.”

“We bought rain gear.”

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