Baby Sings The Boos

By Gretchen Rix

In each of these original Boo and Baby stories from the author of The Cowboy's Baby and Talking To The Dead Guys, something always goes wrong. These tales introduce you to two of the quirkiest animals that Texas has ever seen.

There's singing involved here somewhere. It says so right in the title. You're going to enjoy their screwball adventures, and you're going to laugh.

From Boo-Hoo Who!

The sound of a vehicle door opening was like opium to their dog Boo. Police car, garbage truck, animal control van, serial killer in a stolen pickup, it made no difference to Boo. She'd jump in with anyone.

"Name's Corey Smith," the serial killer said, introducing himself with a smile aimed over Boo's back straight at Flannery Sommers.

And from Deja Boo All Over Again.

The Friday night preview feature of the local comic-con wasn't worth the gasoline it took to bring them there. Until Baby arrived. They had Baby in a muzzle contraption and were escorting him down the hall toward the fountain as if he were Hannibal Lecter.

Olive could tell the exact moment Baby saw Boo by the gasp of the crowd. Then by the bull's bellow and Boo's scream. Baby bellowed like the bull he was. Boo bayed like the wolf she wasn't.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gretchen Rix
• Release date: Jan 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310108808

Gretchen Rix

Gretchen Rix--I write Texas cozy mysteries in the Boo Done It series set in Lockhart, the barbecue capital of Texas. Tag line: Where there's more than indigestion brewing.I've worked as a bookstore clerk, a newspaper writer, and a book reviewer. I've had jobs as a professional typist, a truck dispatcher and a health insurance claims processor. I learned a lot from these jobs. But my true inspiration for these mysteries was our family's stubborn, huge, skittish and always-hungry dog Boo Radley. This dog could drag anybody into an adventure.My sister and I created and ran an international ghost story writing contest. It lasted four years. Now I no longer ever desire to be a magazine editor. I go to science fiction conventions. I'm a member of RWA. Halloween is my favorite holiday and I take the motto "Keep Austin Weird" seriously even though I live 35 miles away."Talking to The Dead Guys" is the first in a series of murder mysteries about a dog, strong women, and small-town living (or is it dying?). Check out all my books at http://rixcafetexican.com and my blog at http://gretchenrix.com.

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Baby Sings the Boos

Gretchen Rix

Baby Sings The Boos

Copyright 2015 by Gretchen Rix. All rights reserved.

First Smashwords Edition : January 2015

Published by Rix Café Texican.

Cover and Formatting: Streetlight Graphics

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my sister Roxanne Rix. And to our pets, most especially Boo Radley. Also to Carole McGregor, Billie Rix, Dianne Stevenson, Tammy Francis, Janet Christian, Phil McBride, Wayne Walther, and Pagan Jackson.

Visit me at:

gretchenrix.com

rixcafetexican.com

1:

MY FAIR BABY

In which Baby takes the cake (or it is something else?)

Cassandra Simmons gaped in surprise at the welcoming party she saw waiting for Baby at the livestock entry to the State Fair of Texas. She drove slower, if that was even possible, afraid she’d run over one of the kids.

Kids as in baby goats.

Twenty of them milled about on the road, effectively blocking her pickup and horse trailer. Cassie counted them while she waited, absently pushing her unruly hair back under her cowboy hat. An unexpected noise came from the trailer. The two teenaged girls who were probably supposed to be guiding the herd had jumped onto it to get a peek at Baby, the celebrity du jour.

Not for the first time she wished she’d brought her husband Frank on this trip. She’d better see what they were doing before the miniature longhorn bull who’d won the State Fair of Texas photography contest decided to bite their fingers off. Couldn’t have that happen, she thought. Not again.

Cassie jumped out the same time the girls fell off the trailer to the sound of an enraged lion. The girl’s faces showed white with shock. By God, Cassie thought in guilty admiration, her bull could still roar with the best of them.

Girls, are you okay? she called to their retreating backs.

Shrugging as the kids that were goats raced after the kids that were irresponsible teen girls, Cassandra Simmons of the Sleeping Beauty Ranch in Central Texas reached into the trailer to pet Baby on the nose before returning to the driver’s seat. Frank would have handled that differently, she figured, but they’d decided he was needed at home.

Then loud and clear came the demand. Move your bloomin’ ass!

The baritone voice barked at her from the other side of the pickup and shocked Cassie just about the way her bull had shocked the girls.

Move your bloody ass! yelled another man Cassie couldn’t see. Hell, he added in conversational tone. That doesn’t sound right either.

Then a veritable chorus of voices screamed, Move your bloomin’ arse! Cassie got so mad she moved her bloomin’ arse right back out of the pickup to confront them.

Welcome to the State Fair of Texas they shouted at her. Cassie heard a few move move your damned ass calls, but almost immediately everyone started shouting, Baby! Baby!

By now there were about fifty people congregating around the trailer. They’d come scrambling from every cranny of the livestock enclosures, like cockroaches. If they didn’t stop screaming, the little bull would somehow manage to break himself out of the trailer and make them stop. She just knew he would.

Cassie held her hands up, was going to ask them to stop, but they shut up without any further interference. Then a tiny girl sauntered up to her and curtseyed in her ruffled yellow dress. Welcome to Texas, she mumbled, and then handed Cassie flowers to the cheers of the crowd.

Cassie was from Texas, lived in Texas, had hardly ever even left Texas. Someone hadn’t done their homework, she thought. But it would be real inappropriate to take it out on the munchkin in front of her. Thanks, doll, she said to the little girl’s immediate dimpling. She was so cute. Glad to be here.

Figuring the crowd wouldn’t disperse without a look at the bull, Baby’s owner decided to walk it from here. She’d been to the State Fair livestock area many times and figured she knew just where Baby would be stabled.

The crowd parted once she got Baby down from the trailer ramp and onto Dallas dirt. Cassie took a quick look around to see if anyone seemed stupid enough to approach the miniature longhorn. Cassie gently tugged on the lead rope to make Baby shake his head, a warning in case anyone got any ideas.

Only the little girl who’d brought the flowers edged closer. Then closer. And closer still. Baby, on his best behavior yet, planted his feet as Cassie led him to the cattle building.

You want to ride him? she asked the child. Baby had been known to give a few children permission to be on his back. Cassie wasn’t just going to swoop the kid up in her arms and deposit her there, however. Where were the child’s parents?

Linda Sue! You come right back here. Mind me, now.

Is that your mother? Cassie asked.

In answer, the girl turned and ran.

Cassie shrugged. That was one problem solved. She tugged on Baby’s halter. With the kid out of his sight, Baby walked docilely to the entrance, but there he balked again.

From around the corner to the stock area Cassie heard the unmistakable sounds of a band tuning their instruments. They’d better not be planning to play that song, she grumbled. But of course they were. The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You wafted from the band and out over their heads into the open air before Cassie had even had time to worry about it.

Baby threw back his head and sang right along. Thankfully, the band all but drowned him out. Cassie doubted anyone had heard him.

Baby says hi! she called out. Then turning back to the dispersing crowd outside, she said, Baby says bye. And thank you for the big Texas welcome.

A couple of them might have heard her, she figured. She put them out of her mind and tried to prod the little bull through the entrance.

But as the band finished to polite applause, Baby dragged Cassie up to them, bellowing his admiration. He loved it, Cassie explained to the girls and boys who were mostly scrambling away from Baby’s horns. Honestly, he really loved it.

Again it was a girl who came forward. Unafraid, a teenager stepped smartly to Baby’s side with a feedbag for him.

Cassie nodded approval. The best way to make a friend out of Baby was to feed him. Just hold it out. He’ll get his lips onto it. Watch the horns, though.

Today, since they’d be around so many people, Cassie had capped his horns with blunted rubber tips. The worst that could happen was a bad bruise. Or getting knocked down. Trampled. That could happen if he got really scared.

I’m designated to show you around, ma’am, the girl told her while admiring Baby’s eating habits. He’s a bit of a pig, isn’t he, she commented with a giggle.

Too late. She’d said one of Baby’s trigger words. Lately, any time anyone said the word pig around her littler bruiser of a