Tina Radcliffe

Finding The Road Home


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the time.”

      “Exactly.” Mitch shook his head once again. “I thought Kate was coming home for the summer.”

      “She called me last night. Another opportunity opened up. She’s headed to Oregon. Can’t help it if our little sister is good at what she does.”

      “Good at what she does is fine, but it would be nice if she’d find a less dangerous calling.”

      “Don’t start that again. You’re proud enough of her when you see her on the television.”

      “This isn’t about being proud of her,” Mitch said.

      Reece met Mitch’s gaze. His brother’s blue eyes bore into his soul. “It’s been five years, Mitch. You can’t bring Levi back by blaming yourself. You’re not in charge of everyone’s well-being. It’s time to turn it over to God.”

      Yeah, right. They were the same words he’d been telling himself since his little brother died. It wasn’t his fault. Except it was.

      “Are you even listening to me?” Reece asked.

      “Yeah. I heard you.” Mitch rubbed a hand over his face. “So hire someone to cover for Kate. I can’t work two jobs.”

      “I’ve got a guy coming down from Montana. Won’t be here until Monday. I need help with the hoedown.”

      “Okay, fine. But this is the last time. I can’t be a part-time cowboy when I’m a full-time police chief.”

      “This is the last time.”

      Mitch grumbled under his breath. “How many guests are we talking?”

      “I’m booked solid.” Reece dusted off his hands. “Thinking about expanding. Guess we can talk about it at the next family meeting.”

      “Sometimes it’s better to stay small and in high demand than expand and dilute the quality,” Mitch said.

      “That so?”

      “I’m just saying.”

      “I’ll take that under consideration.” Reece headed out of the barn. “By the way, Mr. Temporary Cowboy, the door is always open for you to work full time at the ranch. I’d like nothing more than a little help with the decision making around here on a daily basis.”

      “Not going to happen. I like my job.”

      “Do you? ’Cause the way I see it, being police chief isn’t much different from raising children.”

      “The way you see it?” Mitch scoffed, annoyed that his brother was spot-on in his observation. “You don’t have any kids.”

      The sunlight greeted them as they walked out of the barn. “All the same,” Reece continued, “if you worked at the ranch, you could toss those saddles of responsibility off your shoulders. Start enjoying life.”

      “You’d hate having me around all the time.”

      “Not true.”

      For a moment, Mitch considered his brother’s words. He’d never imagined Reece would turn the ranch around as he had. The place was a success. There was plenty of work at Rebel Ranch, but could he be happy as a full-time cowboy? He’d always been in charge. Didn’t know anything else.

      “Can you at least pray about it?” Reece asked as though reading his mind.

      “I can do that,” Mitch said. He nodded as he spoke, and when he raised his head, his gaze landed on Daisy, who stood on the front steps of the guesthouse waiting. When her eyes met his, they widened a fraction, and a smile touched her lips.

      Mitch could only stare, fascinated, as the breeze pulled a ribbon of curly gold-red hair loose from her tight knot and caressed her face with the strand.

      At the same time, an elbow jabbed his side, pulling him out of his daze. Reece chuckled. “You’re in trouble, and you don’t even know it, big brother.”

      Mitch swallowed. It occurred to him that Reece had just said the exact words the voice in his head had been spouting all morning. He took a deep breath as he realized that there wasn’t a single thing he could do about the situation except stay focused and keep his distance.

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      A drop of sweat trickled down Daisy’s face. She swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand before rolling down the window of the patrol vehicle and waiting for the spring breeze to pass through the car.

      The air was still.

      “Mind if I turn on the air conditioner?” she asked Roscoe. “Seems a bit humid today.”

      The senior officer chuckled from the driver’s seat of the Crown Victoria. “Help yourself.”

      Daisy rolled up the window again. She fiddled with the buttons, then leaned back in the cloth seats and sighed as the cool air touched her damp skin.

      “Oklahoma in June,” Roscoe said. “This ain’t nothing. Wait until July.”

      She grimaced. “Really?”

      “Oh, yeah. Sometimes the air’s so thick it’s like walking into a sauna with a sweater on.”

      Daisy pushed back a curly tendril of hair. Humidity. Her hair would love that. “I guess I’m used to Colorado’s dry heat.”

      “Yep. Gonna be a long summer for you.”

       “Officers in the vicinity of Main and Drummond, please respond.”

      Daisy eagerly straightened and listened as the dispatch call from Henna echoed into the vehicle.

      “Eighteen-zero-two, 10-4,” Roscoe said to dispatch as he pulled on his seat belt. “We got this, Henna.”

      “Negative, 1802. Eighteen-zero-five is en route,” Henna returned immediately.

      Roscoe slapped a hand on the steering wheel. “That’s the fourth time she’s done that this week.”

      “I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” Daisy said.

      “No coincidence about it. We’re six blocks closer to that location than 1805. I know when I’m being stonewalled.”

      “On purpose?” Daisy asked. “But why? And by whom?”

      “You tell me. The only thing I’m sure of is that I keep putting two and two together, and every time I get four.”

      Daisy tried not to smile at his words. Roscoe, she was learning, had a flair for the dramatic, and most of the time his references made no sense.

      “Does this have something to do with your retirement?” she asked.

      Her partner released a loud snort. “My retirement? Now, why would you say that?”

      “Maybe the chief thinks you’ve already retired.”

      Roscoe’s head jerked around and stunned eyes pinned her. “’Scuse me?”

      “This is Friday,” she said. “You were MIA most of Monday and left early for appointments on Wednesday and Thursday.” Daisy blinked as he continued to stare. Subtlety had never been her strong suit, and she’d already determined that Roscoe was a what-you-see-is-what-you-get guy. In the long run, he’d appreciate honesty. She hoped.

      “Don’t hold back now,” he muttered.

      “I’m only stating the obvious. It might appear to the chief that you’ve already checked out.”

      “Naw, that’s only one side of the story. It’s the chief who put me out to pasture. Ever since I saved that kid from drowning last summer.”

      “You saved a kid from drowning? Well done, Officer McFarland.” She reassessed the man,