Page 33 of Seducing the Sheriff
My file detailed the origins of the Vazquez family in the area, who had owned a massive ranchero in what became Charming since the mid-1800s. However, much of their property had been lost through a land grab when the mining company moved into town. What followed was decades of conflict over rightful ownership, with the Vazquez family ultimately on the losing end.
I rubbed my forehead as I read through various deeds, legal filings, hand-drawn maps, birth and death records, and more. One thing that caught my interest was that their primary industry was sheep farming. Somehow, that knowledge made me more determined to raise some of my own, almost as a tribute.
I glanced up to see both Cash and Jim equally engrossed in their own files. “Is there a map I can compare to the hand-drawn ones I have in here? I’m wondering if maybe the Jenkins property was part of the ranchero the Vazquez family owned.”
Jim shook his head. “No. The Vazquez property was on the other side of Bobcat. Stretches way out into the desert. The corporation that bought out the mining company owns part of it, and the rest was taken by the Federal Government.” He frowned. “Alisa Cortez lives with her great-grandmother, the last Vazquez. She’s Carmen’s caretaker.” Jim stretched. “Goodness. I think Carmen is almost a hundred by now. All they have left of the original ranchero is five acres, not too far from the diner.”
“That’s so sad.”
It wasn’t as if I was unaware of early land appropriation being an ugly truth in the settling of the US, but this touched me in a more personal, intimate way. Before me were Diego Vazquez’s handwritten records and maps, letters, and more. This was someone who was an integral part of the origins of my new home.
Jim sighed. “I’m afraid you’ll run across many stories like theirs the more we dig.” He checked his watch. “Dang it. We need to wrap this up in about twenty minutes. Feels like we just got started.”
“Same,” Cash agreed.
We bent to our task again, Jim handing us little notepads and souvenir firehouse pens so we could write down anything significant.
“Hey!” Cash straightened in his chair. “I think this might be something.”
I leaned over to see what he was pointing at, and Jim came around from behind his desk. Jim snatched up the old photo, his brow furrowing. All I’d managed to catch was a slightly blurry picture of a couple and two small children. It was also black and white, and the glimpse of what they wore suggested it was from an earlier part of the twentieth century.
Jim’s eyes widened. “Look at those rock formations to the right of the house. In particular, the boulder that’s partially sticking out.”
He placed the five-by-seven photo back on the desk, and we hovered around it. Jim turned on the desk lamp and bent the gooseneck arm to shine the light on the photo. Immediately, I saw what Cash meant.
“Those are the rocks behind my house, right off the deck!” I straightened, excitement thrumming through my body. “The house is much bigger now, so you can’t see them from the front anymore.”
Cash nodded with a big grin. “Which means Mr. Thomas Benning was probably responsible for building onto it.”
Jim straightened with a laugh. “I guess I never put two and two together.”
Cash tilted his head. “How’s that?”
“Well,” Jim began. “Benning was Charming’s first pharmacist. He came from New York and settled here with his wife. They eventually had four children, as I recall.” He scratched behind his ear. “I never delved much deeper than that. I’ll confess that I know more details about the troublemakers and heroes than the day-to-day folk who lived and worked here.”
I could understand that. Who doesn’t love a good story filled with action and adventure? There were plenty of books and movies about Billy the Kid, Butch Cassidy, and Kit Carson. Stories featuring Joe the grocer and Mabel the dressmaker’s exploits didn’t exactly star in people’s memories.
Cash ran a finger around the edge of the photo as he gazed down at the figures. If I could see what thoughts ran through his mind, I imagined he was as taken with their backstory as I was. It struck me that if that was true, it made me feel closer to him. He was invested in the story of my home.
“Dang it.” Jim sighed. “I should’ve left five minutes ago.” He regarded us. “Tell you what. I can’t let you fellas stay or take the files, but when you have time, come back. Even if I can’t search with you, I can give you access to the building whenever I’m in here puttering around.”
We both rose from our chairs, and Cash extended his hand to Jim for another shake. “We’d appreciate that.”
I was chomping at the bit, so I hoped the chief would be back soon. “Thanks. I’m dying to go through all the photos and read that pile of newspaper clippings.”
Cash chuckled. “Same. I think we might’ve struck gold.”
Jim walked us out, and I did my best to keep moving forward. My attention was grabbed several times, but I managed to tear my eyes away from the enticing exhibits before getting caught. Although judging from Cash’s side eye and smirk once we were outside, maybe I was more transparent than I realized.
As Jim climbed into the truck, Cash mentioned to him that I was interested in eventually having some sheep on my property and asked if Dex might have some tips for me. Jim said he’d pass that message along, and I thanked him for both the help with our search and the inquiry. I kept to myself how touched I was that Cash thought to ask him for me.
The signs were there, had been all day. My studlicious sheriff would only need a minor nudge in the right direction. Or more accurately, in my direction.
Convincing Cash to BBQ some burgers and knock back a couple of beers on my back deck, ‘so we could discuss our discoveries’, had been one of the easiest tasks ever. He’d even hinted that he was hoping I’d ask so we could come up with some theories while it was all fresh in our minds.
Suuuure…
But it had worked, and that was all that mattered.
