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of delight mixed with ones of panic as a dozen or so children all fought to capture the five thirty - pound piglets that had been selected for the event.
    Each of the pint-sized swine were greased from head to toe , making the ability to actually maintain a grip on them that much harder. But with the promise of a home-baked pie from the bakery , along with a crisp twenty-dollar bill, the kids were all bound and determined to be one of the winners and end up with a pink p orker secure in their arms.
    â€œThis is one of my favorite events.”
    Bronson turned his head and smiled at the m ayor , who offered his hand. “Yeah. Something about watching those youngsters having all that fun makes the smell worthwhile.”
    Mayor Higgins chuckled. “Once the bingo game is over , the fire department will hose off the streets.”
    â€œ Thank goodness for small favors.”
    â€œWe tried holding these two events out at the rodeo grounds once , but it just wasn’t the same. Seems the folks would rather put up with the odor for a half - day than traipse out to the other side of town.” The m ayor eyed the corral that currently housed one of the six heifers who were assisting with the bingo game.
    The bovine were rotated into the pen one at a time. The asphalt had been marked like a bingo board , complete with all the appropriate numbers. When not in play, the girls were kept in a holding pen that had a large tank of water and plenty of feed , so the y were able to “produce” the plops that would end up being called into play for the bingo players to mark off on their cards.
    As with the normal game, the first person to mark the pattern and call “COW PLOP” would win. Unlike the regular game, though, there was only one round played , since even cows could only “go” so many times.
    Bronson shook his head. Who in the world had ever thought up C ow P atty Bingo? He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to that question.
    Letting his gaze roam over the crowd , he smiled. It sure was popular , though. Men and woman alike all mingled in the general area around the big b ingo card and its current plopper, chatting and awaiting the next number called.
    His eyes stopped when he spotted Heather in the crowd. She was laughing and talking with a few of the local ranchers ’ wives. Bronson was constantly amazed with her. No matter the situation , she seemed to handle it with ease. After the doozie she’d been handed last night , he had wondered if she would even be around at the events today.
    Guilt gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should have handled the whole Gus situation differently. In a million years, Bronson would have never thought he’d be the source of any pain or discomfort for Heather. Quite the opposite , in fact. He always figured that if he played his cards right , maybe he could swoop in and be her hero. From what , he had no idea , but that had been his hope.
    Watching her now, he had his doubts she would ever see him as anything but the county fuzz who threw her beloved pet in the clink. “Mayor, what can you tell me about Heather and Gus?”
    â€œShe riff, that’s a slippery slope , and one that as an elected official yourself , I’m sure you ’ll understand if I tell you I want to stay out of it as much as I can.”
    â€œIs it really that touchy a subject around here?” Bronson turned his attention back to the man beside him.
    â€œWell, yes and no.” Mayor Higgins smiled and glanced around the crowd, nodding at a few folks. “Most of the residents here in town are willing to do just about anything for Heather. Gus makes her happy so…”
    Bronson caught his drift. Even if townsfolk didn’t like having an aging equine wandering around their town, no one had the heart to break the news to Heather. “I understand.”
    The m ayor nodded. “I’m glad you do , son. There might be