“For an interim sheriff, you’ve been awfully busy, mister.”

Nick Scarpelli laughed at the pleasing voice, something he hadn’t done in a while. “It’s good to see you again, Patty. Do you mind if I come in?”

“I must admit, I’m surprised to see you, Nick,” said Patty after they had sat down on her living room sofa. “After you left my house so abruptly a week ago, I thought I must’ve done something really bad to turn you off.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here…to explain that.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, as you know, I’ve been  investigating the crimes out at the Travis Ranch, and since Wade Dawkins was one of the principal parties involved in that investigation, I thought it best that I not get involved with you…considering your relationship with Wade and all, but now—”

“My relationship with Wade? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Patty, I saw the picture of the two of you on your mantle, and I’ve seen you kissing, so, naturally, I just assumed that you were—”

“Sleeping together?”

“Well, I was going to say, ‘dating,’ but—”

“Nick…Wade and I are not dating. All he did was marry me.”

“Marry you? Wade Dawkins is your husband?”

“No, you fool! Wade is a deacon at my church. When my husband and I got married, we didn’t have a minister. In cases like that, Wyoming law allows a congregation to designate someone to perform wedding ceremonies, and that’s what Wade did.”

“But what was he doing at your house Thursday morning?”

“Thursday morning? How did you know about that?”

“I came by to talk to you then, but when I saw Wade coming out of your house, I…well…I—“

“Oh, never mind. Well,” she sighed, “You’ve heard of Mattie O’Toole? She’s an icon in this town, a direct descendant of Nellie Tayloe Ross.” Nick glanced up at the picture of the former governor on Patty’s mantle. “She was staying at my place for a few days while some work was being done on her house. She had forgotten her medicine, so Wade picked it up and brought it over to her. She doted on the Travises, and when they died, Wade took it on himself to look after her.”

“Oh, my God, Patty. I…I—”

“Nick Scarpelli! I do believe that you were jealous.”

“No, I just—”

“Oh, shut up, you sweet man, and kiss me.”

And so he did, but when he tried to go further, Patty startled him.

“I’m sorry, Nick. I thought I could do this, but I just can’t.”

“Patty, what’s the matter?”

“I really like you, Nick, but you’re just here on a short-term assignment. The elections are coming up in November, and once we have a new sheriff, you’ll be going back to the academy in Douglas, and I’ll probably never see you again. I thought we could just have a little fun, and then it would all be over, and that would work just fine if I didn’t really care that deeply about you. But I do care for you, Nick. A lot. And I don’t think I can do this and just walk away from it.”

“Are you quite finished?” Nick chided.

“Huh?”

“Maybe this will change your mind,” said Nick, flashing a piece of paper he had drawn out of his shirt pocket.

“What’s this?” asked Patty, opening up the folded document. “Is this…oh, my God! Nick, are you really?”

“Yep, I went down to the courthouse yesterday and filed the papers to run for sheriff.”

“Oh, Nick. That’s wonderful,” she exclaimed. Then, just as quickly, she pulled back again. “But Nick, are you sure you really want to do this—especially after the week you’ve had?”

“Well, it’s been quite a week, I’ll admit, but it’s also made me realize just how much I miss real police work. I think I can do some real good here, and hopefully, not every week will be like this one has been. I talked to Ben Carter, and he said he would endorse me, but I’m gonna need some campaign posters. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a good commercial artist, would you?”

***********

“Oh, my God, Brad! You’re awake!” screamed Jeremy.

“Yeah, so why are you crying, Jeremy?” Brad asked again.

“Nothing, buddy. It’s nothing.”

After pressing the nurses’ call button and phoning Amy with the good news, Jeremy went back to chatting with Brad.

The cowboy and the cop exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before Brad said, “I don’t know why, Jeremy…I hardly know you…but for some strange reason I feel a special bond between us.”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” replied Jeremy, fighting to hold back the emotions rampaging inside him.

When Amy and her folks arrived, Jeremy stepped out to get a cup of coffee and make some phone calls. First, he called the Millers to let them know about Brad and to check up on Brandon. “He’s a bit shaken,” reported Seth Miller, “but I think he’s improving. I’ve never seen anybody eat so much in my entire life,” he chuckled.

Then, Jeremy called the ranch to see how things were going there. “Oh, everything’s fine,” said Wade. “We’re gonna have to find some new ranch hands, but—”

“Why would we need new ranch hands?” asked Jeremy. “Those two new guys didn’t work out?”

“No, they didn’t,” replied Wade. “I’ll fill you in when you get home.”

“Well, no matter,” said Jeremy. “I may just have a solution to that problem myself.”

Of course, Jeremy also called Kenny to alert him, Kyle, and Red of the good news about Brad, and the three of them immediately hauled ass over to the hospital.

“He’s going to need some physical therapy for that leg,” said Dr. Chevalier, the Leveque’s primary family physician, “and there’s still the matter of that bullet in his brain. Dr. Galbraith will want to monitor that situation carefully to decide if and when to remove it. I’d like to keep him here for observation for a few more days, but if he continues to improve at this rate, I see no reason why he couldn’t go home as long as he takes it easy.”

Brad recuperated quickly over the next several days—physically—but he still had that selective memory loss. His memory of Jeremy was returning slowly, but he still did not recall him as Jack or the intimate moments they had shared.

“Get out of here, young man!” Dr. Chevalier barked teasingly. “Go home. Be with your family and friends. At this point, they can probably do more for you than we can.”

*******

With word of Brad’s imminent release, the whole gang assembled at the hospital for his return.

“Wait,” said Jeremy, as the Leveques were making preparations to take their son home. Turning to the patient, Jeremy said, “Brad, I have a proposition for you.”

Marie Bouvier Leveque pitched a royal fit when Jeremy suggested that her son go back to Wyoming with him, but when Jeremy explained how much he would be needed there, Brad agreed, and Pete and Amy Leveque persuaded the matriarch that the move would be good for him.

The next morning, Jeremy and Brad/Ford, accompanied by two of the biggest stevedores from the city, flew north on Pete Leveque’s company plane, but they weren’t headed for Wyoming. “We need to stop in Texas to pick up a couple of things,” said Jeremy. After Jeremy and Brad got off the plane, it set course for College Station with the two stevedores on board.

Brad and Brandon, seeing each other for the first time since the shooting, fell into each other’s arms. With each having survived extremely traumatic experiences, the bond between them grew even stronger.

In the morning, as he had done once before, Jeremy cooked a big country breakfast for everyone, only this time everyone—especially Brandon and even Brad—ate heartily, and Jeremy had to scramble up a second batch of country bacon and farm-fresh eggs. After breakfast, Mrs. Miller finally asked the big question, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go back to school, son?”

“I can’t go back there, Mama. I know you and Dad have worked hard to send me to college, and I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I just can’t go back there.”

“You haven’t disappointed us, son, but what do you plan to do?” asked Mr. Miller.

“I don’t know, Dad,” Brandon responded with growing trepidation. “I just don’t know.”

“Well, I do!” asserted Jeremy. “You’re coming back to Cheyenne with Brad and me.”

Carol Miller was just as stunned as Brandon was. Seth Miller was also surprised, but not quite as much.

“Jeremy, thanks, but I’ll be fine, and I can’t take your charity.”

“Who said anything about charity. I just found out that we’re short-handed at the ranch. You think you had chores here, you just wait ’til I put you to work on my ranch. You’ll be begging to come back to your folks, but they won’t let you.”

“And why wouldn’t we take our son back?” asked Mrs. Miller indignantly.

“Because he’ll also be in school.”

“Jeremy, I—”

“I know you’re not ready to go back to school right now, but come January, you’re going to enroll at the University of Wyoming. Laramie is just about the same distance from my ranch as Cheyenne, and you’ll have no problem driving back and forth in that slick BMW out there. What’s more, they have an animal science program that’s just as good as, if not better than, A&M’s.”

“But won’t it be too late to get admitted?”

“I’ve got friends there. You just let me take care of that.”

Cathy Miller started to express reservations, but her husband, having somewhat more insight into Jeremy’s relationship with his son, interrupted: “I think that’s an excellent idea. I’ll help you pack in the morning.”

“Seth!” she gasped, but seeing the excitement on Brandon’s face, something she had not seen since he was first accepted at A&M, she had to relent. “Oh, all right. But on one condition, young man. I expect to see you back here for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“We’ll be back for Thanksgiving,” replied Jeremy, but I’d like you to think about coming up to the ranch for Christmas if you would. Wyoming is really beautiful that time of the year.”

“Oh, well, I—”

“We’ll think about it, Jeremy,” replied Seth. “Won’t we, dear?”

“Well, I...I don’t...yes, yes, I don’t know why not! Yes, we’ll think about it!”

Brandon grabbed his mother to give her a big hug but then winced at the sore spots that remained on his body. Then, he ran off to his room to begin packing for the trip. The cowboy, the cop, and the college kid left early the next morning with Brandon driving Brad’s BMW.

*******

In northern Oklahoma, the trio pulled off of I-35 to get gas and grab a bite to eat at a Pilot Truck Stop. “Who’s the second most popular guy at a nudist camp?” asked one of the amiable truck drivers sitting across from them in the truck stop cafe.

“I don’t know,” answered Jeremy. “Who’s the second most popular guy at a nudist camp?”

“The guy who can bring you a dozen donuts with his hands full!” the man howled at his own joke. Jeremy and Brandon laughed along politely.

“Who’s the most popular guy at a nudist camp?” the trucker followed up.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy humored him. “Who’s the most popular guy at a nudist camp?”

“The guy who can eat the last donut!” The man bellowed at his cleverness.

After a few brief moments of chit-chat, the trucker’s partner asked, “So, what do you do up in Cheyenne?”

“I deliver donuts,” quipped Jeremy, which caused the truckers to laugh so hard that one of them nearly spit up his coffee through his nose. Once the laughter had subsided, Jeremy added, “Baker’s dozen.”

And after the next round of belly laughs died down, Brandon added, “And I’m the guy who eats the last one!”

The men all laughed raucously once more. “Damn, when I finish this meatloaf plate, I think I’m gonna be ready for some dessert myself. How ’bout you, Bo? You got room for dessert?”

“You know me, Tex. I’ve always got room for dessert.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Jeremy, holding Brad’s hand, “but I’ve got all the sweets I can handle right here.”