Express passenger van. She’d almost made it to the highway when her cell phone rang.
“Pony Express, Lucy Durango speaking.”
“Lucy, it’s Bob out at the Saguaro Cactus Lounge.”
“It’s only eight o’clock and you have a pickup for me?”
“Not yet but I figure he’ll need a lift by ten.”
“You’re prebooking a ride?”
“Yep.”
“Is he a regular?”
“Nope.”
If the cowboy wasn’t a regular, it usually meant the guy was drinking off a heartache. “Who is he?”
“Tony Bravo.”
Tony? At least he wasn’t on duty. “Did he say why he’s drinking?”
Bob chuckled. “Border patrol agents don’t need a reason to drink.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She disconnected the call then turned onto the highway. Tony had never been a big drinker. Even when he and Michael celebrated their twenty-first birthdays, the guys hadn’t gone on a bender because they’d had to rodeo the following day.
There were only a handful of vehicles parked in the lot when she arrived at the bar. As soon as she entered the tavern, Bob nodded to the stool where Tony sat hunched over a beer glass. He was drinking tap beer—the cheap stuff.
Lucy passed a pair of cowboys throwing darts and four more playing cards before she slid onto the stool next to Tony. She tapped a fingernail against the bar, keeping time with the George Strait song playing on the jukebox. Tony ignored her. After a minute, she broke the silence. “I’m sorry you didn’t make it to eight last weekend.”
Keeping his gaze on his beer, he said, “Thought you’d left the rodeo before my ride.”
“I stayed.” She’d missed watching Tony and her brother tangle with bulls. “Tough draw.”
“Hardly.” He guzzled the amber liquid in the glass.
“Just so you know, I’m here on official business,” she said.
“This is my second—” he counted the glasses on the bar “—third beer.”
“Bob reserved a seat for you in the van.”
“I can handle my liquor.”
Chilled by the air conditioner mounted on the wall next to Tony, she asked, “You want to go somewhere and talk?”
His dark gaze unnerved Lucy. Did he assume she wanted to talk about the past—more specifically their past?
Tony fished his wallet from his pocket, left a ten-dollar bill on the bar then nodded to the door. “Lead the way.”
As soon as they stepped outside, Lucy said, “I haven’t had supper. Let’s head up the road to Vern’s.”
“Leave the van here.” He threw her his truck keys.
Lucy hopped behind the wheel of the black Dodge and adjusted the seat and mirrors then drove toward town. The drive-in was crowded with teenagers but she found a parking spot. When she lowered the windows, the smell of greasy hamburgers and fries filled the cab and her stomach growled.
“That wasn’t very ladylike.” Tony grinned.
“Sorry.”
A young girl with an order pad stopped at the truck. “Welcome to Vern’s. What can I get you?”
“Two cheeseburger baskets with root beers.”
“Be ready in a few minutes.” The waitress dropped off the order at the service window, then chatted with her friends sitting at the patio tables.
“I thought Hector drove the Pony Express van,” Tony said.
“He does, but he’s sick tonight.”
“You should hire a second driver. It’s not safe for a woman—”
“Don’t think you’re saying anything I haven’t heard a million times over from my parents. I know it’s risky, but I don’t do it often.” Before Tony badgered her more, she said, “Tell me about this human-trafficking ring you’re trying to bust.”
“For the past year we’ve been tracking a well-known drug cartel with routes through Arizona. After the first of the year, they switched their cargo from drugs to teenage girls.”
“Why?”
“Prostitution is a lucrative business, and from a cost perspective, the gang spends less money transporting humans across the border than growing and processing weed.”
“And you’re sure the gang is cutting through our ranch?”
“Yep.”
“That doesn’t make me feel very safe.”
“You shouldn’t feel safe. There’s no telling what these guys will do if they feel threatened or cornered.” Tony cleared his throat. “I want to set up a sting operation on your property. Put a couple of lookouts in the desert so we can mark their trail and get close enough to identify individual members of the gang.”
“Here you go.” The young girl arrived with their food and Tony got out his wallet.
“My treat,” Lucy said. She handed the girl a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks for the burger.” He devoured it in five bites.
“You must be hungry,” she said.
“I don’t know why. I had dinner at my mom’s tonight.”
Lucy hadn’t seen Maria Bravo in a long time. “I should visit her at the truck stop when I’m out that way.”
“She’d like that.”
“What did you think of Shannon Douglas last week?”
“She’s impressive.” Tony dug into his French fries. “Have you seen her compete before?”
“Last weekend was the first time.”
“I competed in the Canyon City Rodeo last summer, and after watching Shannon and her lady friends, I couldn’t figure out if the women were stupid or really brave.”
“Shannon’s got a lot of talent.”
“I won’t argue with that. She’s been a tomboy all her life, but the others—” He shook his head. “They looked like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“They’re the kind of girls who enter beauty pageants not rodeos.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lucy’s pulse raced when Tony’s gaze momentarily dropped to her breasts.
“You’re as beautiful as I remember.”
Feeling short of breath, she said, “You’re a chauvinist, Tony Bravo. Just because a girl is pretty doesn’t mean she can’t be tough, too.”
“Hey, I’m all for women’s rights. I work with female border patrol agents and they handle the job as well as, if not better than the male agents. But bull riding is best left to men.”
If Shannon called with good news soon, Tony’s opinion would be put to the test, because Lucy intended to ask for his help in preparing for the rodeos. There was no sense bringing up the subject now and giving him an opportunity to talk her out of it.
“I was surprised you stayed in Stagecoach after you graduated,” Tony said, changing the subject.
“Really? Why?”
“Memories.”