Catch Me a Cowboy by Katie Lane Page A

him, especially if he’s set his sights on Shirlene.”
    “I won’t have a problem durin’ the day,” Sam said. “But Myra expects me home by six for dinner.”
    “I can take the late shift, sheriff,” Kenny jumped in.
    After a full minute of indecision, Harley slapped Kenny on the back. “Give it your best, son. Remember, you’re protectin’ our little Shirlene.” He hitched up his pants. “Welp, I better get back to work if we want a Founder’s Day to remember.”
    There was a grumbling of agreement as the townsfolk moved toward the door.
    Once the diner cleared out, Billy flipped over his coffee cup and waited for Rachel to fill it. It didn’t take her long. The woman was a whirlwind of efficiency.
    “Well, stranger or not, I’m shore happy to see that little gal gettin’ back in the saddle,” Rachel said as she filled Billy’s cup to the brim. “She was shore tore up after Lyle’s death.”
    Tore up? Obviously, Shirlene Dalton had fooled the entire town with her big Texas smiles and pretty green eyes. But she didn’t fool Billy. From the first moment he’d been introduced to her, he’d had her pegged. No woman who looked like that would be married to a man almost twice her age unless she wanted to get her hands on his money.
    Billy added some cream to his coffee before taking a sip. “Funny thing,” he said as nonchalantly as possible. “I thought I saw Shirlene this mornin’ out on Grover Road.”
    Rachel laughed. “That’s doubtful, sugar, seein’ as how she hasn’t lived out there for over ten years.”
    “She grew up out there?”
    “Born and raised.” Rachel grinned. “But she shore moved up in the world. She married Lyle just a couple years after high school and has been livin’ the high life ever since.”
    “Really?” Billy set down his cup. “So I guess Dalton Oil’s problems haven’t affected her lifestyle.”
    A confused look settled over Rachel’s face just as Moses Tate, who sat two barstools over, spoke up.
    “You fishin’ today, boy?”
    Billy tried to steer clear of Moses. While the rest of the town saw only what they wanted to see, Moses’ aging eyes missed very little. Even now they were pinned on Billy with an intensity that had him fidgeting.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Moses spit a stream of tobacco in the plastic cup he always carried in his front shirt pocket. After he wiped off his mouth, his eyes narrowed on Billy. “For fish?”
    The laugh Billy forced from his mouth sounded as fake as it was. “What else would I be fishin’ for, Mr. Tate?”
    After a breakfast of light, fluffy biscuits and thick, rich country gravy, Billy was ready for a nap. Between Bootlegger’s and the surprise visit from Shirlene Dalton, he hadn’t gotten more than a couple hours’ worth of sleep. Still, the thought of heading back to a hot trailer and a lumpy mattress didn’t appeal to him. Instead, he headed over to the town library, a pretty, single-story brick building that sat right next to the park.
    He pulled open the glass door to a blast of refrigerated air that was a welcome relief from the scorching July heat.Inside, the library was like all libraries, rows of books surrounded by hushed silence—a silence suddenly broken by the tap of fingers on computer keys.
    Pulling off his cap, Billy followed the sound to the checkout counter in the center of the library. Behind the desk sat the librarian, Ms. Murphy, her attention intent on the monitor before her.
    After he’d first met Ms. Murphy, Billy had relegated her in his mind to the position of the town’s old maid. But studying her features behind the wire-framed glasses, he realized he’d made a mistake. Despite her calf-length skirts and buttoned-up blouses, Ms. Murphy looked no older than he was.
    “Howdy, Ms. Murphy,” Billy said as he leaned across the desk.
    And even though his words were whispered, the woman almost shot out of her conservative black heels. Her butt did leave the chair. Unfortunately, when it