Free Once a Cowboy by Linda Warren Page B

she had to find him tonight, but she was compelled to confront him. The second test had to have hit him like a ton of bricks. Where would he go to nurse his wounds? Where would a cowboy go when he was down?
    A bar. A honky-tonk, good-time bar.
    She grabbed the phone book again. There were several places in Fort Worth where cowboys hung out, but she was betting that Brodie hadn’t gone that far. Stopping for a light, she thumbed to the yellow pages and ran her eyes down the list of nightclubs and bars. Good grief. This could take days.
    How could she cut down the list? Reaching for her cell phone, she poked out a number.
    “Hey, Dudley, this is Alex.”
    “Hey there, good-looking. What can I do you for?”
    Dudley was one of her information sources. He knew everything there was to know about Dallas and Fort Worth, including some things he shouldn’t know.
    “I’m looking for a bar or nightclub in Dallas where cowboys hang out.”
    “Ah, honey, those cowboys’ll do you in. They love their horses more than they’ll ever love a woman.”
    “Don’t be asinine. This is business.”
    “Mmm. You got a pencil and paper?”
    Alex dug in her purse, turned a corner and pulled to the curb. Dudley spouted out several clubs and she marked them in the book.
    “Thanks, Dud.”
    “Now, honey, if you want a good ride, look no further than Dud the man.”
    “You just never give up.” Alex laughed. Dudley was her father’s age, but he was always coming on to her. It was one of his quirky habits and she always ignored him.
    “Not when there’s a pretty lady involved.”
    “Good night, Dudley.”
    She heard his laugh as she clicked off.
     
    B Y THE TIME she found the fourth bar and Brodie’s truck wasn’t there, she was beginning to wonder if she had him pegged wrong. Maybe he wasn’t licking his wounds. Maybe he had accepted the fact that DNA didn’t lie.
    That wasn’t her impression of him, though. Brodie would not take this well. The fifth bar was Boots and Spurs and she drove around the block, looking for the truck. Bingo. There it was. Her instincts were right. Another truck backed out and she took the parking spot.
    Now what? She could wait for him to come out or go in.
    She slung her purse over her shoulder and got out, making sure her gun was within easy reach. Not that sheplanned on using it, but going into a bar alone after midnight was always a risk.
    Opening the door, she stepped into the dimly lit, smoke-filled room. A Willie Nelson song played loudly on a jukebox and couples moved around the small dance floor, clinging to each other. Other couples sat at tables and booths. Several cowboys were bellied up to a horseshoe-shaped bar. Every cowboy had his hat on. Evidently drinking and dancing did not require a cowboy to remove his hat. She spotted Brodie at the end of the bar with a brunette leaning in close, talking to him.
    She started to back out, but stopped. The brunette kissed his cheek and walked to a table. Alex weaved her way through the crowd to him. A cowboy stopped her.
    “Hey, there, blondie. How about a dance?”
    “No, thanks. I’m here to see someone.” He followed her gaze to Brodie.
    “You’re out of luck, blondie. Brodie ain’t in the mood tonight. Get my drift.” He winked.
    “Thanks for the information.” She winked back and pushed past him to Brodie’s left side. He didn’t turn, just kept drinking a beer.
    “Hi,” she said.
    “I told you I’m not…” His words trailed off as he saw who was talking to him.
    “Well, if it ain’t my favorite P.I.”
    “Could I speak with you, please?”
    The music was so loud she wasn’t sure if he’d answered or not, but from the look in his blue eyes she knew what his answer was.
    “Another beer, Joe,” Brodie said to the bartender. “And bring one for the lady.”
    “No, thanks,” Alex quickly replied.
    Brodie pushed back his hat and turned to her. “Lady, I figure I’m all done talking.”
    “This’ll only take a