McAllister had to smile at that. He studied her, thoughtfully. "Then, MacKenzie, you should give Dixie the hat; just ask her to make sure it gets back to Thompson.

Mac looked down at the black Stetson, laying on the seat next to her. "I won it. And, it fits." She looked back up, fiercely determined.

Slowly, McAllister cleared his throat slowly, but, his voice was still gravelly as he said, "Yes, you won it—fair and square. But, it'll never fit you. If you keep Thompson's hat, he'll never forgive you. It's like stealing a man's horse. The hat--good or bad--is his. He'll outgrow the embarrassment of what you did to him; he may even learn from it. But, if you take that hat, he'll just curl up inside and rot. He's young and, maybe, a little wild--but not evil. Not yet, anyway. The way you handled him may just change his life. You don't need the hat. You've got the story."

Mac thought about it.

"I'm driving you home." He waved over to Dixie. "Dixie, I'm seein' them home. You keep these keys, till they come get the car. Okay?" Dixie took the keys, and hung them behind the bar.

Mac handed her the hat; and Dixie just nodded to her. "I'll see it gets back to him." She turned to McAllister, "Be safe, Marshal."

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Dixie. Save my booth and table."

Everyone left the bar. McAllister looked around before leaving them at the door to get his truck. When he pulled up in front of 'Cowgirls', the vehicle was a four-wheel-drive F-150 half-ton. It had markings of a badge of some kind, obscured by all the mud. Additionally, it sported a red, white, and blue light-bar on top, also splattered with dust and mud.

It had a winch, real off-road tires, a roll bar with a spare tire on top, a breather-tube for the engine, and no rear tailgate. There was a Winchester 30-30 hanging in the rear window behind the bench seat; the rifle was locked to the rack. It had a quick release combination lock and was positioned so that McAllister could reach back and pull it with one hand as he exited the vehicle.

He pushed the passenger door open. "Get in, ladies."

MacKenzie slid in next to McAllister followed by Nikki, who blithely began chattering away. "Cool four-wheel drive! My dad has a Jeep; I just love these things."

McAllister smiled, A Jeep ... huh? A less thoughtful man might have torn into Nikki about the vast differences between a heavy-duty all-terrain emergency vehicle and a recreational 4x4. One was a work horse, the other a toy. But, Muse merely said, "Glad you like my rig."

MacKenzie noted several radios mounted to the dash and overhead of the cab. Mounted on the dash was a small digital pager that glowed green, plus a satellite phone.

The door closed.

"Buckle up your seat belts. And where to, ladies?"

Nikki and Mac talked about their dad's dates. Both homes were probably busy with sex. McAllister picked up the sense of the family structures as they talked. Both dads were lawyers. He picked that up too.

"What about Mom's?"

"You think it'd be okay?"

"We better call." Nikki tapped in a number.

McAllister heard a woman's voice answer. Nikki talked to her a couple of minutes; then, she handed him the phone. "Yes, ma'am. I'm Muse McAllister; at this speed, we'll be there in about forty-five minutes. Their car is at a place called 'Cowgirls', 'cause they're in no condition to drive."

There were a series questions from the other end of the line.

"No, it's not necessary. Nikki had something to eat, and she's pretty good at giving directions. We're in McMinnville. I'll have them call you, when we're ten minutes out. After Grand Ronde, we won't have cell phones for a bit. If you have a minute when I get there, we should talk. And sure, coffee would be just fine."

Once that was settled, Nikki put her head on MacKenzie's shoulder and promptly fell asleep. Mac sat next to McAllister quietly for a few minutes; then, she spoke, "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Sure. Fire away!"

"Who is Muse McAllister?"

"He was a rodeo bull-riding champion for a few years. Then, he got married and older; now, he's just a cowboy."

"Why does everyone call you Marshal? That's not your first name. And what's the star on this truck? It has five points, instead of six like the Sheriff's cars?"

He cleared his throat. "I work for the US Marshal's office here in Oregon, and sometimes in other places."

"What do you do for them?"

"I find things or people, who are lost or don't want to be found."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm a tracker."

"Like a bloodhound?"

"A little bit better than that, but, yes."

She was quiet. "We made idiots out of ourselves tonight, huh?"

He looked down at her, knowing that what he said would affect who she was for a long time. "No." He he shook his head. "You didn't make idiots of yourselves. You're just young women. Very interesting young women, I might add, who went out trying to find out about life."

"You two did NOTHING unacceptable." Well, except maybe for the underage drinking.

"There was a time--not so long ago--that a young woman could walk into a place like 'Cowgirls' anywhere in this country and expect to be treated with respect. Nowadays, being a cowboy's not a way of life; it's a hobby. Just buy the right things to wear, ride a mechanical bull in a bar, put on boots and 'BE' a cowboy."

McAllister smiled at her. "You did okay in there, tonight. You never needed my help. You might have accidentally gotten into a mess; but, you got yourself out of it too."

He looked over at the sleeping Nikki. "Hell, even Nikki did good. She picked the only real cowboy in the place to play poker with. He wouldn't have let anything happen to her. And, if I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have let anything happen to you either. Jason Chism is good folk."

MacKenzie laughed, softly. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You still have a hard on."

"Yeah, I 'm acutely aware of that problem. Thanks for making it worse by pointin' it out."

"I wish there was some way for me to say, 'thanks'." Her finger traced the outline of his cock in the darkness of the truck's front seat.

He grinned, and she saw it. "MacKenzie, if you get any closer to sayin' 'thanks', I'll have to explain stained jeans to my wife."

"No underwear?"

He smiled a wicked smile--all cowboy. "Nope."

"You know, there wouldn't be any stain if I ... " She looked up at him.

The clock on the dash read fifteen minutes to go. He said a silent heartfelt, Thank you, Lord Jesus! He cleared his throat. "Someone better call her mom."

McAllister heard the dogs barking as he shut off the engine. While Mac woke Nikki, McAllister walked around to the other side, helping them down from the truck.

Jennifer and Dr. Sam met them at the door. Taking his hat off, he put out his hand and both Jennifer and Sam shook it. The girls hugged Jennifer, both of them calling her mom. Then, Nikki grabbed Mac and took her up see the loft. "Come on, you gotta see this! There's a hot tub. And at night, you can see all the car lights whizzing by on the highway across the river. It's just beautiful!"

McAllister watched them climb the stairs. There was a just a hint of sadness in his eyes; something interesting was leaving his life.

Inviting him in, Dr. Sam left him with Jennifer while she went to get the coffee they'd already made. Once she returned and set down the tray, McAllister gratefully took a cup and tasted it, sighing with pleasure. "Ladies, I gotta hand it to you; you make a mighty fine cup of coffee. Best coffee I've ever had, outside of my wife's kitchen; and, trust me, I've drank many a cup in my time."

Jenn piped in, "Well, thank you for the compliment. And more importantly, we both want to thank you again for bringing the girls safely home."

He gazed at Jenn, appreciatively. You're a real looker; and Nikki's the spittin' image of you. But even as he sat there admiring her, he suddenly did a double take, The spittin' image, except for the fact you're a blue-eyed blonde! And Nikki' got ...? Instantly, his head jerked back towards Samantha, Well, I'll be damned!

Dr. Sam smiled, Yep, Mr. McAllister, it's definitely confusing. Nikki's got dark red hair and green eyes just like mine.

McAllister sipped the coffee and cleared his throat. He took the two fake driver's licenses and laid them on the coffee table. "The girls, your daughters, are pretty young. They haven't figured out that there are consequences for actions. Maybe someone needs to talk with them about that tonight."

Jennifer asked, "What exactly happened?"

"Before I begin, can I ask what you two do for a living?"

Dr. Sam replied, "Emergency Room Doctor--mostly."

"And you?"

Jennifer answered, "Attorney at Law, Family Practice."

He thought and then said, "Okay, then the short version. First, neither of them was hurt in any way. There was a bar fight, some bull riding that was pretty sexy, a poker game with $420 and Nikki's panties as part of the winning pot, some underage drinking, and lots of dancing. One met a man; one met a cowboy. As far the rest of the story, I think I'll let them tell you in their own way. I'm pretty sure they're totally honest or as close to it as I've ever met."

"Where did all of this happen?"

"A bar called 'Cowgirls', over on the east side of Portland. Oh, that reminds me, MacKenzie's car is there. The owner, Dixie, has her keys. The place opens about 2 p.m. each afternoon."

"And your part in all of this?"

He thought, Hmm ... my part? "Me, I'm just a cowboy visiting the big city for the weekend. As for 'my part', they'll probably tell you about me."

Dr. Sam asked simply, "Why did you get involved?"

"What man is a man, who doesn't look after another man's daughter when she's in trouble?"

What man is a man, indeed? Samantha Green thought as she looked at him.

He took out a card from his billfold. He slid it across to Dr. Sam, who examined it, raised an eyebrow, and handed it to Jennifer.

"Give that to MacKenzie for me." The card was from the regional US Marshals' office. It had a toll- free Federal number and his name.

He cleared his throat. "I'd best be gettin' back. It was a pleasure meeting you two ladies and your family."

They walked him to the door. As they walked back into the house with the Golden Retrievers, he fired up the engine. Jennifer started to close the door, only to have MacKenzie go flying past her.

The truck engine turned off and McAllister stepped down. Mac stepped up to him, raising her arms and wrapping them around him as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped themselves around his narrow waist.

"You were going to leave without saying, 'goodbye'?"

"That was my plan. Not very cowboy-like, but it was a plan."

"Muse?"

"Yeah."

"You can have me, you know. Right here, right now!"

"I know. But I think Nikki's moms might object."

"No, they wouldn't," she insisted.

"Don't you want me? I thought from the way you watched me that, maybe, you wanted to be with me." Utterly devastated, she looked away.

He turned her face back to his and kissed her gently, letting her hips move against him. She felt him; he was hard and big.

"So, you do want me," she murmured.

His breath was ragged. "Hell, yes, I do. But, we must not do this!" His hands moved her ass against

him, bringing her sex across the front of his jeans. She moaned.

"Why? No one will ever know," she begged him. "I'm on fire, McAllister! I feel like I could just burst into flames and explode."

"MacKenzie ... " He drew a deep breath against her neck. "You'd know."

He pulled his face back from hers. "You know I'm married. And, not just married—MARRIED. I'd have to lie to my wife or lie to myself, by somehow pretending that I'd always been faithful. I'd be breaking a sacred vow; and, the cowboy you want--can't do that. The man my wife knows--can't do that."

She looked up at him. "Can you, at least, kiss me goodbye?"

"You mean like in the movies, where the good guy kisses the gal and rides off into the sunset?"

She nodded her head.

"Yeah, I can do that. All real cowboys know how to do that."

He sat her down on her feet, removed his hat and laid it on the hood of the truck. He reached slowly for her, briefly touching the small beads on the end of her cornrow. Then, as if he'd decided, he slid his hand behind her neck, pulling her mouth to his. She closed her eyes. His lips stopped just short of hers, hesitating; then, he took what she offered. Her lips were warm, her tongue was naughty, and her nipples were hard.

She shivered, slowly opening her eyes. He was holding her and smiling at her.

"Jesus, Muse!" she uttered, breathlessly.

"Yeah ... Jesus."

He released her gently, picked up his hat, and slid onto the bench seat. He drove off into the darkness.

MacKenzie smiled happily as she watched him drive away in a small cloud of dust. He isn't headed back to Portland!

McAllister's headed for the Wigglin'-V, just as fast as he can legally get there!

***** Writer's note: Those of you who occasionally comment, please keep doing so. As always, please take a moment to vote. So, check a star rating below if you don't have enough time to write a comment. Rate the chapter, please by just choosing one of the Stars below ... hover over it till it turns gold then click it.