Callie's Cowboy by Karen Leabo Page A

Then her breath caught in her throat. At first she thought she was imagining things. But she couldn’t be mistaken. That distinctive, masculine scent could come from only one person. But even without the scent, she’d have known it was Sam. His body seemed to have an electrical field around it that did something to her personal ions.
    â€œWhat, are you doing here?” she asked without looking up. She imagined those blue eyes gazing at her, and her insides quivered.
    â€œI’m an interested citizen.”
    â€œYou came here to harass me.”
    A man in front of them turned and glared.
    Sam lowered his voice to a whisper, putting his mouth right next to Callie’s ear. “You owe me a kiss.”
    â€œI’m busy,” she groused, trying to pay attention to the discussion about improvements to the municipal building. It was bad enough he’d stolen her sleep with his impromptu visit, then invaded her dreams. Did he have to interfere with her work as well?
    â€œActually, I came to show my support for Alan Buntz. He’s arguing against that zoning ordinance that would allow commercial business in our neighborhood.”
    â€œOh.” She was ashamed at the disappointment she felt. Had she really thought Sam had come here specifically seeking her out?
    The man in front of them turned around to glare again, so they kept quiet during the remainder of the dull meeting. Sam raised his hand when the discussion about the zoning came up, and he expressed himselfeloquently, pleading that the council protect the peaceful, bucolic atmosphere of his neighborhood, which was about all it had going for it. That and a farming history that went back to before Texas was a state.
    The council voted the zoning measure down.
    â€œYou gonna quote me in the paper?” Sam asked when he noticed Callie taking notes.
    â€œIt’s news when someone who doesn’t even live permanently in Destiny can single-handedly sway the city council. Oh, don’t get your shorts in a knot. It’ll be a one-column story on page three of the Metropolitan section. You have a real phobia about the press, don’t you? Even if it’s good press.”
    He shrugged. “I’m entitled.”
    â€œI suppose you are.”
    He looked down and frowned. “What happened to your shoes?”
    â€œDon’t ask.”
    â€œI heard you had dinner with Sloan Bennett last night.”
    She had to stifle a giggle. She hadn’t seriously imagined that she and Sloan would become the subject of gossip. “Yes, I did,” she replied, deliberately mysterious.
    â€œI thought you weren’t dating anyone.”
    â€œSloan and I aren’t dating.” She paused, then added, “That was business.”
    â€œSomething to do with my father’s death? I read in your story that Bennett was the first cop to arrive on the scene.”
    Callie considered lying. She wasn’t obligated to talk about her behind-the-scenes research. But considering Sam’s understandable paranoia about the newspaper,she decided to tell him some version of the truth. “We did discuss your father. I was tying up some loose ends. I have no plans to write anything more about it,” she added. “But, Sam, I have to be honest with you. The police aren’t positive your father killed himself, and I have my suspicions too.”
    Sam stared at her in utter consternation. “Excuse me?”
    â€œThere are some things that don’t add up.”
    Thunderclouds moved across his face. “Are you insinuating someone killed him?” he said in a ferocious whisper.
    â€œIt’s a possibility. Look, I shouldn’t have even told you. But I didn’t want it to come out of left field if it turns into a real murder investigation.”
    â€œYou mean if suddenly there’s a story splashed across the front page announcing my dad’s murder? Thanks for the warning.” He started to turn