Cast:
Hutch: David Soul
Starsky: Paul Michael Glaser
Dobey: Bernie Hamilton

Guest Starring:
Elliott: Roy Champion
Jenny: Melissa Gilbert
Martha: Beatrice Arthur
Champion: Dublin

Written, Produced and Directed by:
Keri T (RosieRed2000@aol.com)
Paula Wilshe (Pwilshe@aol.com)

Stunt Coordinator:
Keri T

Equestrian Advisor:
Paula Wilshe

Coffee:
Starbucks

   "You gonna eat that?" David Starsky asked his partner. He pointed to the untouched pile of French fries, which were invitingly perched on the edge of Ken Hutchinson’s paper plate.

   "Eat what?" Hutch asked, through a mouthful of cheeseburger. He grabbed his napkin and wiped a splotch of mustard from his chin. "The fries?"

   Starsky nodded.

   "I was going to," he replied. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the plate across the desk at his partner. "Go ahead."

   "No, not if you were gonna eat ‘em," Starsky pushed the plate back.

   Every inch the martyr, Hutch pushed the plate back at Starsky. "No, it’s okay, you can have them…"

   "You sure?" Starsky reached for the plate hopefully.

   "Sure," Hutch answered, sighing again. "If I don’t give them to you you’ll just sit there looking deprived, and trying to make me feel guilty."

   "Who, me?"

   "Yeah, you." He took another bite of his cheeseburger, noting that Starsky was already cramming a handful of fries in his mouth, and Hutch hurriedly applied napkin to mustache to hide the smile that threatened to break free. Without looking up, he nudged the plate toward Starsky. "Take ‘em," he said gruffly.

   Although Starsky was nearly back to fighting form following last year’s injuries and subsequent recovery, he was still too thin, and although he liked to eat, his appetite was not nearly what it had once been. In the last couple of months, though, Starsky had become reluctant to accept the mother-henning gestures from his partner which had become second nature to Hutch by now, and Hutch had been forced to come up with new and creative ways to encourage the dark haired man to continue on the straight and narrow path to robust good health.

   "You two finished playing table tennis yet?"

   The two policemen looked up into the scowling countenance of their captain.

   "Hi, Cap," Starsky said, nibbling on a fry. "Want some?"

   "Are you crazy?" Dobey glared at him. "Those things look as if they’ve been sitting around the cafeteria since Christmas."

   "Probably have," muttered Hutch, as he finished off his sandwich. "You need us for something?"

   "Yes, in my office," the older man replied.

   "Yes sir," Starsky stood quickly and saluted him, then picked up the plate of fries and headed through the open office door, munching contentedly.

   Dobey leaned down to Hutch, who was gathering up the remnants of his lunch. He patted his own considerable girth for illustrative purposes. "He’s looking a little less emaciated," he said with the hint of a smile. "Nice work, son."

   "It’s an art, Cap," Hutch informed him, grinning.

********

   Starsky crammed a handful of fries into his mouth. "So you want us to guard a witness? That’s it?" He glanced over at Hutch. "Another really cool assignment," he pronounced.

   Hutch leaned forward and fingered his mustache. "I don’t think I understand, Cap, we do babysitting jobs all the time. From the way you’re talking, and the uh…" he pointed across the captain’s desk, "the fact that the file is so thick…what’s so special about this one?"

   Dobey sat back in his chair and sighed. "Well, it’s out of our jurisdiction, for one thing. Up north. You’d be on loan to the local Bakersfield P.D., since they’re just not staffed or trained to do this kind of thing."

   "Okay," Starsky cut in. He glanced over at his partner, then back at Dobey. "What else?"

   "You mean there’s more?" Hutch asked.

   "There’s always more, Hutch," Starsky rolled his eyes.

   "Well," Dobey began, "It’s on a ranch."

   "A ranch? Like with cows mooing in the clover?" Hutch raised an eyebrow.

   "Well, that, and, uh," Dobey cleared his throat. "Horses. Either of you ride?"

   "Yes."

   "No," Starsky said emphatically, at the same moment as his partner’s affirmative. He looked over at the blond. "You haven’t ridden since last summer."

   "Little bit," Hutch shrugged his shoulders at Dobey. "Used to, anyhow, and when I visit home…."

   "Well that’s good, then," Dobey nodded. "Your cover will be as ranch hands, so you’ll be expected to put in some saddle time." He leaned across at Hutch. "You think you can give your partner a crash course in horseback riding?"

   Starsky winced and shook his head. "Don’t say crash, Cap, please." He shifted his backside on the chair. "I can feel the saddle sores already. He’s already tried to teach me, and I…"

   Hutch reached over and patted him on the knee. "Don’t worry, Starsk," he said sympathetically. "I’ll pack the Ben Gay."

   "Terrific," Starsky muttered.

   Dobey cleared his throat loudly before the detectives got going in a verbal match wherein they would joke and tease one another until he forgot the details of the assignment, which, he suspected, was their usual intent. "So anyway, gentlemen, the main focus of this assignment is going to be to protect the daughter of the state’s key witness in this whole fixed County election fiasco."

   The partners glanced at one another, both familiar with the ballot box stuffing accusations, which had permeated the airwaves several months before.

   "Who’s this guy, the witness guy?" Starsky asked, chewing a fry.

   "His name is Roy Elliott," Dobey explained. "In the cattle business, and he was promised a lot of things by the men who engineered this thing, good prices for his beef, some contracts with state institutions, that kind of thing in return for keeping mum. He wasn’t actually involved, you see, he found out accidentally. But then…" Dobey shrugged his shoulders.

   "His conscience got the best of him," Hutch finished, leaning forward. "Or that’s what the media was reporting, anyway. Guess that’s to his credit, if there was no way he could’ve been prosecuted."

   "Exactly," Dobey proclaimed. "But the ballot stuffers caught wind of it, and he’s got a daughter…lovely girl," he said, "Name’s…Jenny…beautiful young girl, and naturally…"

   "Young girl?" Starsky asked hopefully.

   "Beautiful?" chimed in Hutch. Both men stood. "When do we leave, Cap?"

   "Tomorrow morning, and you’ll report in to me tomorrow night. No heroics on this one, and no fighting over some little girl, you got that?"

   "Oh, absolutely, Cap," Starsky said. "No fighting." He looked at Hutch with a grin. "Maybe a bit of healthy competition, that’s all."

   "Well," Hutch mused, "of course, I’m picturing you after a whole day on horseback, what with the Ben Gay and all…" he wrinkled his nose. "Girls don’t find that very attractive."

   Starsky grinned at him as the two exited the captain’s office. "Hey, Hutch?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Next time you buy french fries so you can trick me into eating them because you think I’m too thin? Remember to pick up some ketchup too, huh?" He poked Hutch in the stomach, and exited the squad room, whistling merrily.

   "I’ll remember that, Starsk, thanks for the tip," Hutch grinned, shook his head, grabbed both their jackets from the backs of their chairs, and followed his partner out the door.

********

   "I don’t believe this," Hutch moaned. He pulled the old Ford pickup to a stop under the arched wooden sign that straddled the bottom of the long lane. "Red Rose Ranch?"

   "So?" Starsky asked, wrinkling his forehead. "What?"

   "Red Rose," Hutch repeated, as if Starsky were of low intellectual ability. "Red Rose?" He rubbed at his forehead. "After that whole thing with the florist shops a few weeks ago, I told you I never wanted to think about flowers again." He looked over at Starsky. "I’m getting a sinus headache," he complained.

   "Hutch, Hutch" Starsky soothed. He patted his partner on the arm. "Get a hold of yourself, for God’s sake."

   "Yeah, but it’s like…" He blinked at Starsky. "See? My eyes are starting to water," he said accusingly.

   "Hutch," Starsky repeated, sharper now. "I mean it."

   "Fine," Hutch snapped. He glanced over at his partner, who was chuckling silently. "And shut up."

   Starsky reached over and tousled Hutch’s hair. "Oh, relax, Blondie. Try to look at it this way, I mean, we’ve got a few days away from the city, a beautiful young girl named Jenny to pursue, you get to show off your alleged horseback riding skills…"

   "Not ‘alleged,’" Hutch interrupted. "Just because you can’t tell the difference between good riding and sitting like a sack of potatoes." He shifted the truck gears and the old pickup lurched forward with a bang and a trail of smoke and dust. "Ask my mom. She’ll tell you."

   "Your mom also thinks you’re brilliantly handsome, musically gifted, and all-around-perfect," Starsky allowed, "so right there…"

   "Like I said," Hutch grinned. "Ask my mom."

********

   "Let me get this straight," Starsky said in disbelief. "You’re Jenny?"

   "Yeah, what about it?" asked the compact, pigtailed ten year old. "Who are you?"

   "But I thought…" Starsky shook his head. "David Starsky," he answered finally. "And this is my partner, Ken Hutchinson."

   "Hutch," the blond interjected, unable to restrain a grin. "Is your dad home?"

   "Ah, gentlemen, welcome to the Rose," greeted a tall, handsome man, whose hair had likely been as stunningly blond as Hutch’s in his younger days. "Good to meet you, I’m Roy."

   "He looks like your dad," Starsky whispered to his partner.

   Roy smiled easily. "Must be the hair," he said genially. "I see you’ve already met my Jennifer, and this," he patted the head of a yellow Labrador Retriever who had accompanied him into the room, "is Champion, who will either be your best friend, or your worst enemy, depending on where your loyalties lie." He grinned as his daughter dropped down to hug the dog. "As you can see, Jen’s one of the good guys."

   "Good to meet you, Sir," Hutch extended a hand. He crouched next to Champion, patting him, and addressed the little girl. "Great dog," he smiled. "So you’re Jenny, huh?"

   "It’s really Jennifer," she said, peering shyly up at him from behind the dog’s ear.

   "Pretty name for a pretty girl," Hutch smiled at her gently. He patted the dog again. "And this guy’s great. He yours?"

   "Mine and my dad’s," she answered. "But mostly mine." She smiled.

   Starsky crouched down beside them. He absently scratched the lab’s ears. "So, uh, Jennifer," he said conversationally. "You got a boyfriend?"

   The little girl dissolved in a fit of giggles, and Hutch glanced admiringly at his partner. Starsky had the most incredible way with kids, always. He tended to say outrageous things, unexpected things, which immediately broke through the age barrier and rendered them friends and confidants almost at once. Sometimes his partner could be very childlike, and at times like these, it was extremely advantageous—and sincere too, Hutch knew.

   Hutch watched quietly and unobtrusively as Roy took a moment to size them up. He could see the furrowed brow on the older, still handsome face of their host, and wondered to himself if the man was finding something lacking in either he or his partner. He had to work to keep his face calm and still. Hutch didn’t mind the intense scrutiny of his own person, but felt his protective instincts kick into high gear over the thought that anyone would find anything wanting in Starsky.

   He glanced at his partner, still chatting with the little girl, and realized he was unaware of the test they were being given. For that, Hutch was sincerely grateful. Roy’s face relaxed just before the moment became tense and he smiled deeply while beckoning his daughter to his side.

   I guess we passed. Hutch felt his own face relaxing as he straightened, and gave Starsky a nod.

   "Jennifer, why don’t you go out to the kitchen and see if you can get Martha to make a pitcher of lemonade, and maybe if you ask real nice, she’ll give up some of her chocolate chip cookies for our guests." He gently tugged on one of his daughter’s pigtails when he saw the pout start to form, "now please, Jenny."

   "Aw, Daddy!"

   "Go." Roy watched his daughter trudge off to the kitchen before he turned his attention back to Starsky and Hutch. "Gentleman, why don’t we get settled in the living room?" he suggested, indicating the great room just off the foyer where they currently stood. "I’m sure you’ll want to hear the details of my situation, and we’ll all be more comfortable there.

   Starsky was the first to follow the rancher, and it was clear from his expression that he was awed by the vastness of the room. He stopped at the entrance and let out a loud whistle, as he took in the beauty and opulence contained in the high-ceilinged, ornate room. A second whistle escaped his lips, but was silenced to a wince when he felt Hutch’s elbow, jab his ribs. "Hey," the dark haired cop muttered under his breath. "That hurt."

   "Be good," Hutch hissed back under a wide smile.

   Roy didn’t hear the mutterings of the two partners, as he was on the far side of the room, near the fireplace. Both cops increased their pace to reach him, and settled into the deep, leather armchairs that framed the huge hearth.

   "Mr. Elliott," Hutch began. "We’re familiar with the basics of this case and our assignment, but it would be very helpful if you could provide us with more details. Especially those surrounding the most recent threats."

   "Please call me Roy," the rancher said automatically. "I’ve never been comfortable with formal names, in fact none of my old hands would ever call me Mr. Elliott, although it does take the new ones some time to get used to the informality." He leaned forward, hands in his lap. "The threats...well, the threats started about a month ago. Shortly after I went to the authorities. Thing is, they’re not exactly threats, not in so many words. Notes, no postmark, so they were hand delivered, which is what makes me think they’ve come from someone on the ranch, or close to it."

   "If they’re not threats," Hutch prompted, glancing at Starsky, "then why do you feel they’re…threatening?"

   Roy sighed. "Because they are all about Jen, but addressed to me. Things like…’Jennifer needs to be careful at her riding lesson, next Thursday afternoon, horses can be unpredictable,’ or…’Jennifer’s school bus makes an extra stop at Sage Canyon Road on Mondays.’ That sort of thing. Someone who knows our schedules, and is intimidating us without putting things into threatening phrasing. But someone who wants us to recognize how easily it would be to…" He blinked at Starsky and Hutch seriously. "Do you see why I’m frightened?"

   "Absolutely," Hutch agreed. "We’ll need to see the notes."

   "Certainly. They’re typed, of course, and have already been checked for fingerprints by the local sheriff’s department." Roy reached in the drawer of his desk and handed over several sheets of paper. "But it has to be an inside job," he said, "because no one else would know…"

   Starsky eagerly welcomed the opening to one of the questions foremost in his and Hutch’s mind. "Just how many new men would you say you have right now, Roy?" He asked gently.

   "Well, let’s see, I guess about fifteen. We always have to bring on new hands at this time of the year." He noticed the questioning looks on the detective’s faces. "Beef goes to market next month, the work always triples about now. Do you think you can help us, Detective Hutchinson?"

   "My partner and I don’t stand on formality either, Roy. I’m Hutch," Hutch shot a finger in Starsky’s direction, "and you can call this guy Starsky. I’m not sure either of us would answer to our first names anymore."

   "Of course, what my partner hasn’t mentioned yet, is that’s just in here, when we’re alone. When we’re working with your, hands?" Starsky glanced quizzically at Hutch who nodded briefly at him. Clearly pleased that he’d used the unfamiliar vernacular correctly, Starsky continued. "When we’re working with the hands, we’ll be using different names. I’ll be going by Joe, and Hutch will be going by Adam."

   "Joe and Adam, in public, Starsky and Hutch in private. I got it." Roy glanced in the direction of the foyer, a trifle nervously. "Before you begin investigating the threats, you need to understand that Jenny can’t know anything about this. I don’t want her frightened."

   "How much does she know?" Starsky asked.

   "Nothing, and that’s the way I want it kept. May I have your word on that?" The look that the rancher gave the cops brooked little room for argument.

   "Okay, we can do that, but how much time does she spend with the help? She already knows our real names, which may not have been a bright move on our parts," Hutch caught his partner’s eye, and Starsky shrugged in return. "It seems like a lot to expect from a little girl, that she won’t be confused as to what to call us, and more importantly, why we have two names."

   "Plan B, partner?"

   "Plan B."

   "What’s plan B?" Roy inquired, trying to keep up with the verbal shorthand.

   "Plan B is that your new ranch hands are named Dave and Ken. I’m Ken, he’s Dave."

   Roy rubbed his temples, "Okay, you’re going to be Dave and Ken at work, and Starsky and Hutch when we talk privately, and no Joe and Adam at all?"

   "That’s right, or you can just call us Dave and Ken all the time," Starsky added helpfully.

   "I’m glad we got that settled, now can we discuss how you’re going to keep my little girl safe?"

   The partner’s were prevented from answering by a plaintive wail coming from the other hallway. "Daddy! Come help me, this is heavy."

   "Excuse me a moment, officers." Roy hurried off in search of his daughter, leaving the partners alone.

   "Gee, Dave, I’d say we’re off to a rip roaring start." Hutch offered disgustedly.

   "Ah, Ken, you always look at the bad side first," Starsky teased, enjoying the look of annoyance on Hutch’s face. "Of course I’m disappointed that we can’t be Joe and Adam."

   "You just wanted to play Bonanza, that’s why you picked those names."

   "We are working on a ranch now, Hutch, those names would have been perfect."

   "We’ll save them for the next time we’re undercover as ranch hands, okay?"

   "Okay, next time. Hey, you know what?"

   "What, Starsk?" Hutch sighed, knowing that nothing good was going to come out of his partner’s mouth.

   "When we do this again?"

   "Yeah?"

   "You shouldn’t be Adam."

   "No?"

   "Hoss," Starsky said seriously. "Next time we’re ranch hands, you be Hoss." He reached over and patted Hutch’s midsection lightly.

   "Fine," Hutch snapped, slapping at Starsky’s hand. "I’ll be Hoss. And you can be Hop Sing. ‘Course, you’ll have to grow a braid…"

   Starsky snorted, which made Hutch laugh, and the dark haired man shook his head good-naturedly. "I owe ya one, Blondie," he promised.

   The two men glanced up as Roy reentered the living room carrying a large pitcher in one hand, and balancing a tray of glasses in the other. Jenny was right behind him, holding a plate of cookies. "Martha says these are still warm!" she said proudly, setting the plate down on the table between the detectives’ chairs.

   Roy passed out glasses of lemonade, then settled back in his own chair. "Normally," he reached for a cookie, "When we take on ranch hands who’ve not worked with us before, we give them a couple of weeks on barn duty before they start out on the range. This gives them a chance to get used to our ways, get to know the animals, and the rest of the crew. Same pay, of course. Would that be acceptable to you two?"

   "Absolutely," Hutch agreed, knowing that this time would afford them the perfect opportunity to guard and get to know the ten-year-old, as well as become familiar with the other ranch hands, and begin to weed out suspects. He stole a glance at Jennifer, who was watching him intently. "This is absolutely the best cookie I have ever had in my life," he told her, with a beaming smile. "Did you help to make these?"

   "How’d you know that?" Jennifer asked shyly.

   "Lucky guess," Starsky put in, tugging a pigtail. He turned to Roy. "Well, can we get the grand tour?"

   "Absolutely," Roy answered, rising. "How about if we have Jen show you the barn and the stock? Getting new employees settled is one of her specialties."

********

   "No, no, no, like this," Jennifer insisted, tossing her rope smoothly. It landed in a loose oval around the fence post, and she pulled gently on the end she still held, tightening the loop. "You try it again," she urged Starsky.

   "I don’t understand why this is so important," complained the dark haired man. "It seems kinda dumb." Following a tour of the barn and introductions to all of the horses, during which Starsky had learned much more than he felt he’d ever needed to know about the differences in horsefeed, sawdust, and timothy versus alfalfa hay, Roy Elliott’s daughter had expressed horror at the revelation that the new ranch hands had never "thrown a rope."

   "It’s not dumb," Jennifer frowned. "What if your pack horse gets away, or one of your heifers takes off or you have to catch a bad guy or something? Don’t you guys ever watch ‘Bonanza’? You’ve got to know how to do this. When we’re done this, we’ll get you on a horse, and see what you can do." She shrugged her shoulders. "You seem like nice guys and all, but if you ride as well as you rope, I don’t know what my dad was thinking hiring you. You ever been on a horse?"

   "Not much," Starsky muttered.

   "What?"

   "I said, I’m not as good as Hutch…I mean…Ken," Starsky flushed. "His family back in Minnesota has horses, so sometimes when we go visit, we ride a little bit. Where is he, anyway?"

   The girl lifted the loop of the rope off the fence post, and began winding the rest of the rope up around her arm. "He’s in the barn, grooming two horses for you guys. You haven’t done this too much before, have you?" She squinted up at him. "Do you have regular jobs?"

   "Regular…well, yeah…" Starsky said. "Hey, partner," he shouted, relieved as Hutch came out of the barn leading two horses. "How’re you makin’ out?"

   "Terrific," Hutch grinned, as he transferred both sets of reins to one hand, and adjusted the cowboy hat he wore. "You ready to ride a little bit?"

   "Yeah, let me try this one more time," Starsky said, coiling the rope around his arm. He looked at Jenny. "Stand here?" he asked.

   Jenny exchanged a look with Hutch, who had looped both horses’ reins around the fence on the other side of the ring. "No, back up a little bit," she said.

   Starsky took a tentative step back as Hutch strode toward him. "Here?"

   "Little bit more, Starsk," Hutch called as he came closer. "Little bit…little bit…"

   Starsky kept backing.

   "Perfect," Hutch grinned, as Starsky plunged, backside first into the bathtub sized water trough behind him. "Absolutely perfect."

   "Got him good," Jenny giggled, moving toward Starsky. "You okay?"

   "Sure I am," Starsky fumed. "I was hot anyway." He splashed water at his partner and the little girl. "Brats."

   "Here you go, Hopalong," Hutch offered a hand to pull his friend out of the water. Quicker than lightning, Starsky twisted Hutch’s arm, and within seconds Hutch had splashed into the trough on top of him. Sputtering and coughing Hutch broke the surface of the water, holding the cowboy hat aloft. He spit a generous amount of water in his partner’s face in retribution, and looked up at Jenny. "Saved the hat," he said triumphantly.

   Starsky simply rolled his eyes, placed a large hand on Hutch’s head and pushed him back under the water, favoring Jenny with a huge grin and a wink.

********

   Hutch let himself down on the bed with a moan. "Ohhh…"

   Starsky chuckled as he surveyed the one room bungalow the partners had been assigned during their stay at the ranch. Although Spartan in design, it at least offered privacy, a small bathroom, and two bunkbeds, and there were several such structures in a cluster that the ranch hands called home during their tenures at the Rose. "Little stiff there, Hutch?" Starsk asked. He rummaged through Hutch’s duffel bag, which reposed on the small table in the center of the room. "Now where’d you put that Ben Gay?" he asked, in an innocent voice.

   "Shut up," Hutch hissed. "Just…shut up."

   "Guess the hot shower didn’t do it, huh? Here you go. " Starsky held up the tube triumphantly. "Wow," he said conversationally. "Who’d’ve thought you’d be the one to get saddle sore? All the riding you used to do?" He sat down on the edge of the cot next to his partner. "’Course, you haven’t ridden for a good long while, and I was doin’ all that PT and all, guess I’m just a little more limber right now…"

   "Starsky," Hutch warned, "I don’t want to hear about it right now, I hurt."

   Starsky unscrewed the cap. "Where’s it hurt? Your backside? Drop your drawers," he suggested with an evil leer.

   "I have a gun," Hutch said pleasantly.

   "Is that a proposition?" Starsky grinned.

   "You should be so lucky," Hutch said with a grimace. "No, it’s my back, in the middle, down low." He undid his shirt slowly. "I’ll be fine, couple of aspirin, no problem."

   Starsky squeezed out an inch of the ointment onto his fingers, and with his other hand lifted Hutch’s shirt up and away from his back. Gently he ran his fingers over the tight muscles, holding the shirttail with the hand that was resting on Hutch’s shoulder. "This’ll help," he said matter of factly.

   "But it smells, Starsk," Hutch complained, "and everyone will know I…god that feels good." He sighed and began to relax.

   Starsky continued to soothe the aching muscles, widening his circle till he’d massaged the entire lower half of his partner’s back. "Small price to pay," he said. "You’ll be able to move, that’s the important thing."

   Hutch leaned his head forward, giving in to relief from the soreness. "I suppose," he sighed. "Ohhhh…"

   "Tough day, huh, guys?" The partners looked up into the smiling face of Roy Elliott, who leaned against the open doorframe.

   "Your kid about wore us out," Starsky grinned. "Man, she’s something else."

   Hutch looked up at the ranch owner. "Let’s see, today, so far, she’s out roped us, out ridden us, oh, and let’s not forget that she had four saddles cleaned and oiled while I was still working on our two."

   Roy came inside, pulled out one of the chairs that was up against the table, and sat down. "She’s pretty amazing," he agreed. "My wife died when she was three, so it’s just been the two of us all this time. Kid never had any interest in Barbies, she was riding before she could walk. Not that she’s not a kid, she likes to play and have fun with her friends from school, or whatever, but she is passionate about the Rose, and her horses…"

   "And her dad," Hutch said with a smile. "And I think that’s terrific. We had fun with her today."

   "So you can understand," Roy’s voice dropped, "That the thought of anyone ever hurting her…" He shook his head. "’Couldn’t take that," he said. "Couldn’t…"

   "Don’t worry, Roy," Starsky pulled Hutch’s shirt back down and patted his back lightly to indicate he was finished. He screwed the cap back on the tube of ointment. "We won’t let anything happen to her. We promise."

   Roy nodded, and from his expression it was clear that he both trusted and liked the detectives immensely. "Thank you," he offered. "Martha should be ringing the dinner bell shortly," he said. "We all eat together, Jen, me, all the hands…we’re kind of like family, all of us."

   "You eat with the ranch hands?" Starsky asked.

   "Absolutely." Roy stood up. "We’re all in this together, all working toward a common goal. This isn’t just my ranch because my name’s on the deed." He shrugged his shoulders. "It’s the earth, it belongs to all of us."

   "Well," Hutch said thoughtfully, "I’m gonna guess that, because you’ve got that attitude, you’ve instilled that in your daughter." He started to button his shirt again, and stood up.

   "Which confirms my earlier point. You’ve got one terrific kid there," he smiled warmly.

********

   "You know," Starsky mused, lying back against the cool grass and flopping over on his side. "I could get used to this." He pointed across the field. "Beautiful sunsets, unbelievable dinners, work hard, curl up on the grass and relax when you’re done…"

   Hutch moved slightly against the tree he was propping up. "I know what you mean," he yawned. "Like, you’re exhausted, but you’ve earned it."

   "You boys want some more coffee and another slice of apple pie?" offered Martha, the Rose’s head cook. "Coffee’s fresh, and just took another pie out of the oven."

   "Oh, thank you, ma’am, but no," Starsky said, smiling up at her. He patted his stomach. "I’m about ready to burst." He reached over and tapped Hutch’s midsection. "And Ken here’s tryin’ to watch it. The dinner was great, though. No wonder the same hands sign on every year here."

   A nearly imperceptible shadow passed across her face and was gone instantaneously. "Yes, I know," she answered brightly. "Roy is very proud of that."

   "I imagine he would be," Hutch offered, flicking his eyes over to Starsky. "Hey, partner, you ready to head back to the bunkhouse?"

   "I think so, yeah," Starsky agreed, pushing himself up from the lawn. "You need a hand?"

   "Nope." Hutch stood and stretched. "I’m good, thanks." He turned to the cook and smiled. "Thank you for a wonderful meal, Martha," he said. "Good night."

********

   "So what do you make of that?" Starsky asked, hanging over the edge of the top bunk so he could look at his partner. "You think the cook’s in love with the ranch owner?"

   Hutch placed his hands behind his head, and shifted his weight slightly on the mattress. "Boy, I don’t know what to think," he answered. "This sure isn’t like some TV western, is it? All the blood’s gonna rush to your head, you know."

   "Probably," Starsky agreed amiably, although he didn’t change position. "I’ve never seen a group of people act like they’ve got such a vested interest in a place…without having a vested interest in a place."

   "Yeah, it’s like…Starsky, for God’s sake come down from there, you’re making me dizzy hanging upside down like that."

   Starsky flipped himself off the top bunk and crawled across the bottom of Hutch’s bed. "Better?" he asked.

   "Yes, but," Hutch nudged him with a toe. "Now I can’t stretch out."

   "Cramped or dizzy," Starsky offered. "Take your pick."

   Hutch pulled his legs up and turned on his side. "Cramped," he decided. "It’s like all the guys we’ve met really are family. They’re respectful, but familiar, I can’t think of a one who didn’t impress me as truly attached to the place, the kid, Roy, even the cows for God’s sake."

   "That’s my impression too," Starsky agreed. "I mean, I realize that any good criminal is well schooled in a certain amount of deceptive tactics, and yet my gut feeling from these guys is…well…that they’re clean, and not the ones threatening the family."

   Hutch yawned. "That’s what I got too," he said, "and then I thought maybe I was being gullible, so I’m glad you got the same impression." He thumped on his pillow and closed his eyes. "Maybe we can figure it out tomorrow, huh?"

   "You bet," Starsky scrambled off the bed, giving his partner a pat on the hip. "G’night," he added, vaulting back up to the top bunk.

********

   "Hey, you guys," Jenny called from the doorway. "It’s after five, you’re oversleeping!"

   "Starsk," Hutch murmured drowsily. "Turn off the radio, wouldya?"

   "Yeah, sure," Starsky reached over to hit the offending button, very nearly falling out of bed before he realized there was no clock radio in the room. "What the…" he sat up straight, pushing tangled curls out of his eyes. "What do you mean ‘oversleeping’?" he asked, as consciousness began to kick in. "It’s still dark out."

   Jenny’s voice drew closer as she moved into the room. "But we’ve got to get all the horses saddled up and ready for the guys. They leave by six," she explained.

   "You’re kidding, right?" Starsky hung over the edge of the bunk bed and stared at Hutch. "She’s kidding, right?"

   Hutch struggled to sit up. He dragged a hand across his face, and rubbed his eyes. "I don’t think she’s kidding, Starsk," he said, when we was able to focus on the child’s face. "Can we have five to get dressed, hon?" he asked, giving Starsky’s head a push upward toward his own bunk.

   "Sure," Jenny replied. She grinned at Starsky. "Like your long johns," she said, "Red’s a good color for you," and she bolted out the door to the sound of Hutch’s pealing laughter.

********

   "Martha, you’re a godsend," Hutch said gratefully as she refilled his coffee cup. "Thank you." He stretched and yawned, then poked Starsky in the arm. "Hey," he said. "Hey." He smiled up at Martha. "Takes him a while to wake up," he explained.

   "You two’d better get a move on," she told Hutch. It’s quarter after five. Horses need time for their feed to settle, you know."

   "Yup," Hutch said, rising from the picnic table. He tugged Starsky’s arm. "Let’s go, Little Joe," he urged.

   "I’m up, I’m up," Starsky muttered, dragging a hand across his face. He blinked in the bright light from the back of the ranch house. "This is torture, you know."

   "I know," Hutch soothed, pulling him along. "Gotta coddle him a little," he grinned to Martha. "Thanks for breakfast," he added.

   The two made short work of passing out grain and hay to the rows of horses in the barn, and as the horses munched happily away, began the tedious task of brushing saddling each one, leaving the bridles off until the ranch hands were ready to go. At one point Starsky disappeared, and Hutch found him sitting longingly atop a mass of hay. "What are you doing?"

   "Could sleep right here, Hutch, just lay right down and…"

   Hutch pulled him to his feet, just as Roy entered the feed room. "Mornin’, boss," Hutch drawled in his very best cowboy. "How are you doing?"

   "Not so well," Roy sat down heavily. "Found this on the porch this morning." He held out a sheet of paper to the blond detective.

   Wide awake now, Starsky scrambled up and read over his partner’s shoulder. "Shit," he whispered as his eyes flicked over the page.

   "Last chance," the note read. "Police protection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Pretty little girls…"

   "Pretty little girls what, what!" Roy slammed his hand on the wall in frustration. He blinked back tears of anger and fright. "I don’t know what to do," he said. "What should I do?"

   Hutch reached out and rubbed his shoulder calmly. "Roy, it’s okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this today. Whoever this is, well, they’re ready for a confrontation. Starsk and me…well, we’re good at that. It’s what we do," he smiled gently. "Your being upset, and frightening Jen isn’t going to help."

   "I know," Roy nodded, "I know that, in my head…it’s just…" He placed a hand against his chest. "Here. It hurts."

   "I know," Hutch said softly. "I know."

   "Hey, you guys!" Jennifer streaked down the aisle of the barn, pigtails flying, and using a bale of hay as a springboard, catapulted herself into Starsky’s arms. "You guys gonna ride with me this morning?"

   "I think we’ve got some work—" Starsky began. "God, you’re heavy. Martha feed you rocks for breakfast?"

   "Please? Daddy, please can they?"

   Roy tugged on her pigtail. "For a little bit, if that’s okay with Ken and Dave," he said. "You and I have some errands to run later on, you know."

   "I know." She made a face. "Dentist," she explained.

   Hutch laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "Hey, you need to keep those pearly whites beautiful or nobody will be able to tell your age from looking at them the way we do with the horses. That’s important."

   "I guess so," she frowned. "Long’s they don’t do that drill thing."

   "Oh, you mean like this?" Starsky teased, making a buzzing noise and digging his thumbs into her sides until she giggled her way out of his arms and flopped down on the hay.

   Starsky held out a hand. "Come on, squirt, let’s you and me get some carrots for the beasts, and then we’ll show my partner a thing or two about how riding’s really done. You wanna teach me to barrel race?" he asked, as they left the barn.

   "Dentist?" Hutch asked Roy, as soon as Jennifer was out of earshot.

   "Yes, legitimately too. Check up, although I can cancel it if you…"

   "Who else knows?" Hutch asked, frowning.

   "No one," Roy said after a moment’s consideration. "Martha, I guess, she made the appointment for us. That’s all, though, no one else."

   "Okay." Hutch pushed his hair off his forehead. "Okay," he decided, "then I think you should go. We’ll keep Jen occupied this morning, she can, uh…" he chuckled, "she can teach Starsk how to barrel race, then this afternoon while you’re gone, we’ll nose around a little more."

   "Okay," the rancher agreed. He sighed heavily. "I just want this to be over, I just…"

   "I know," Hutch agreed, "and we’ll do our best. One more thing."

   "Anything. You know that."

   Hutch licked his lips. "You got a camera?"

   "Sure, why? Evidence?"

   "Of the best kind," Hutch said. "Starsky barrel racing. You have any idea how much I could get for photos like that at Metro?"

********

   "Hyahhhh…" Starsky dug his heels into the horse’s sides and took off through the two barrels Jen had set up at the mouth of the schooling ring. He urged the horse forward , already bending him toward the right and around the first barrel.

   Jen stood up on the fence, yelling and cheering him on, as Hutch snapped photo after photo with the camera Roy had slipped to him.

   "Keep goin’, Starsk!" he yelled, snapping the shutter once again. "God, this is gonna be great," he said to Jen.

   "He’s not bad, you know," Jenny whipped her head around to watch Starsky again, pigtails flying in exhilarated glee. "Go, go, go, go!" she yelled. "Home stretch, go!" as Starsky rounded the last barrel and headed toward the center for the gate.

   Bending low over the horse’s neck, he whooped and hollered, holding on to the reins with one hand, and waving his cowboy hat through the air with the other. Finally, stopping short at the gate, he brought the horse around to Jen and Hutch. "How’d I do?" he asked breathlessly. "Pretty good, huh? Pretty darned good, Hutch, huh?"

   "Smile pretty," Hutch instructed him, and took another picture.

   "That was great!" Jen shouted enthusiastically. "Please, please can’t you guys be here this summer for the county fair?" She turned to Hutch. "How come he didn’t look that good when we were just plain riding?"

   "He’s a speed demon," Hutch answered dryly, taking a photo of the little girl, and then another. "Gets crazed, you know. You should see him drive."

   "Hey you," Starsky grinned. "Let’s see you top that, Blintz."

   "Why you call him Blintz?" Jen asked, her forehead wrinkling.

   "Because he’s out of his mind," Hutch said, "That’s why he calls me that."

   "Nah," Starsky explained, still out of breath from the ride. "It’s ‘cause he’s crusty on the outside, but I’m tellin’ ya, Jen, inside this guy’s just a big mushball."

   "Am not," Hutch growled, as Jenny pivoted off the fence and wrapped her arms around his neck. His expression softened and he held her with one arm, leaning into her hug. "Okay, maybe just a little bit." He leaned in close. "But I’ll never admit it to him," he stage whispered.

   "I won’t tell him, I promise," Jenny whispered, as Starsky tugged on her pigtail. "It’ll be our secret."

********

   Hutch looked around through the open kitchen door. "Martha?"

   "Right here," Martha answered, wiping her hands on the apron she wore loosely tied about her ample waist. "You boys making out okay?"

   "Just fine," he smiled. "The barn is clean and ready for the horses when they come back, and all our chores are done."

   "Where’s your partner?"

   "He’s taking a shower, says he has to wash off the smell of the horses," Hutch chuckled. "Although, between you and me, I think it’s the stalls and not the horses that are getting to him."

   Martha smiled. "Seems like you two are getting on all right here," she said. "That’s good. Jenny’s really taken a liking to you both."

   "She is a terrific kid," Hutch agreed. "Wouldn’t mind having one like her myself someday. Do you have children, Martha?"

   "One son," she nodded. "Grown now, but he’ll always be my baby. Beef stew for supper," she said, indicating a pile of vegetables she had begun to cut up. "Do you want something for lunch? It must be about time."

   "I actually was wondering if I could make a couple of sandwiches, if you wouldn’t mind," Hutch told her. "We thought we might take a ride out along the ridge, get to know the land a little better so we’re not holding anyone back when we start riding with the crew."

   "Good idea," Martha agreed. "Best way to do that is out the gate and up the road to the trail at the foot of the hills there." She pointed out the window with a carrot. "That way you can climb the ridge up there, and see a lot more of the acreage from above. Most of the trails and fields on this side of the ranch will be visible if you climb high enough."

   Hutch reached over and snatched a peeled carrot, grinning in apology. He took a bite, chewing for a moment before he answered. "Is that the way everyone went this morning?"

   "I believe so," she answered. "They’re checking fences up on the north side today, and they’ll be moving southward all week long. Too close to market time to take a chance losing half the herd through a broken section of fence."

   "Then that’s what we’ll do," Hutch stood up. "You don’t mind if we…"

   "You go get yourselves and your horses ready, son" she offered. I’ll make you a nice pack lunch to take along. Your partner like barbecued chicken?"

   "My partner," Hutch said, taking another bite of carrot, "likes anything that doesn’t bite him back." He paused. "And a few things that do."

PART TWO