Her Cowboy Sheriff

by Leigh Riker

  Great, Finn thought. He’d only been trying to help, but the shaken look on Annabelle’s face told him he’d failed. Which he seemed to do with her every time they met. And Emmie’s words must have hurt, as his probably had yesterday. He touched Annabelle’s arm but she flinched.

  “You ready to check out?” he asked. “I am, and I need to talk to you.”

  Annabelle didn’t argue but she didn’t look at him either. “I’ll get my cart.”

  Outside, the night air was crisp and clear. Overhead, the stars were strung like crystal ornaments across the darkened sky. He buckled Emmie into her car seat then loaded the bags into Annabelle’s trunk. After stowing his own in his car, he gave Sarge a treat then turned back to Annabelle.

  “I need to talk to you, too,” she said though the prospect didn’t seem to please her. She started her car, put on a video for Emmie then leaned against the half-open door, her arms folded. “Well? You first.”

  Finn lowered his voice. “I suspected there were other outstanding warrants for Sierra and there are. In five other states,” he said, “besides Missouri. Texas, Arkansas, Nevada, Wisconsin and Ohio.”

  Annabelle’s features fell. “That many? What charges?”

  “More of the same. Fraud, embezzlement, theft, grand larceny...”

  She turned pale. “That...can’t be. I don’t...want it to be.” She sounded on the verge of tears.

  “I’m not making this up, Annabelle.” In Finn’s mind, Sierra Hartwell had been a swindler, a con artist, but he wasn’t about to say that. “Along with the St. Louis warrant, you’ll need to repeat the process with these, too, but that should clear everything for the courts. I hate to point this out again, but you didn’t really know Sierra anymore.” He said, “You really want to find the man she was involved with? I was a...father myself, so I can understand that, but there’s no telling what he’d be like.”

  “Yes. I do need to find him. To know—for Emmie’s sake—I’ve done everything I could.”

  “Even if he turns out to be a criminal?” Because he knew people tended to hang out with their own kind. Like Sierra. “That’s a possibility, you know.”

  “And in that case I’ll know what to do. If I don’t try, there could also be legal ramifications.”

  “I realize that but—”

  “I mean, what right would I have to keep Emmie, as you think I should? I’m not her closest relative,” she reminded him.

  “Close enough,” Finn murmured even though she had a point.

  Annabelle tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and her breath frosted in the cold air. She told Finn about her search the night before, her frustration at not finding any solid lead to Sierra’s whereabouts or Emmie’s father.

  He hated to burst her bubble. She and Sierra had been like sisters growing up. It must hurt big time to realize that, after defending her, Sierra was nothing but a crook. “She left no forwarding address anywhere, which doesn’t surprise me. She must have skipped around a lot, worked her scam then moved on.”

  Annabelle glanced back into the car at Emmie whose gaze stayed glued to the video screen. “With no connections to Sierra, I may never locate Emmie’s father. I suppose that would make you happy.”

  Finn agreed but not aloud. He understood Annabelle’s desire to get away from her painful memories of Barren—just as Finn tried to escape his of Chicago. He knew she’d put those dreams on hold for Emmie and Sierra. What would happen to those dreams if she never did find Emmie’s dad? What would happen to Emmie? Finn didn’t want to think about Annabelle turning the little girl over to the State. Some foster care turned out well, but often it didn’t. If Annabelle made that choice, he wanted to be able to understand why, but he’d hate to see Emmie damaged when she could be with Annabelle instead.

  “Something has to turn up,” he said at last to ease her mind. “In the meantime...”

  She tried to smile. “I need to get Emmie home. It’s after her bedtime.” Not realizing that she’d paired Emmie with home, she turned again to the car, giving Finn a nice view of her in her jeans. He looked away and at the same time saw Emmie. Her eyes were still on the video that was playing. Finn could hear its soundtrack, the music and laughter. Emmie wriggled one hand into the grocery bag beside her on the rear seat and Finn felt guilty. She fumbled around then pulled out a glazed doughnut and shoved it in her mouth, her face quickly smeared with sugar.

  “Where did that come from?” Annabelle asked. “I didn’t buy—”

  “Me,” he admitted. “I bought that box of Krispy Kremes and put them in one of your bags, but I didn’t think she’d see them until you got home.”

  To his surprise, Annabelle’s face cleared. She laughed.

  And, to break the tension between them, so did Finn.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Annabelle moved through the diner to refill her customers’ cups with fresh coffee, chatting as she went. The close air inside the restaurant smelled of eggs, hash browns and bacon. At the middle two-top Annabelle’s former high school English teacher sat with the new principal, earnestly talking, from the little she could hear, about next semester’s curriculum changes. Annabelle didn’t interrupt them but kept going with a brief nod of acknowledgment. Seated at the rear table for six, across from Finn’s usual booth, Mayor Harry Barnes was in a good mood today. The council had approved his budget for next year, and when he headed for the door with his entourage in tow, he was still smiling at his constituents.

  When he came to Annabelle she said, “How’s your family, Mr. Mayor?”

  He straightened his tie then ran a hand over his already neat blond hair. “Couldn’t be better. Elizabeth’s about to enroll our youngest in day care, get a few hours to herself. How are you doing?”

  Annabelle wondered if he’d ask about Emmie, too—she’d seen him at Sierra’s funeral—but he didn’t. His bland gaze shifted to someone behind her, and he called out a hearty greeting to another local resident.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured. Harry was an effective mayor, just as Finn was a good sheriff, but he seemed to always be campaigning, working the room, and his attention span could seem limited. Still, he’d left Annabelle a big tip.

  Pocketing the money, she began to clear the mayor’s table. She glanced at Finn’s empty booth, which looked lonely without him. Or was it Annabelle who felt lonely? That was nothing new, like feeling unappreciated, but for a moment last night their shared laughter over Emmie’s doughnut had lightened things between them. With Emmie’s future to consider, she doubted that would last.

  When the door opened, a blast of chill autumn air blew in—and Annabelle’s pulse sped. Maybe Finn had finally come for breakfast, but instead her friend Nell Sutherland glided in wearing a sheepskin-lined jacket, well-worn jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. She was blowing on her obviously cold hands. “Brrr,” she announced to the entire restaurant in her husky voice. “I can all but smell snow. Looks like an early winter.”

  She slipped into the nearest booth, which had just been vacated by the women’s library auxiliary group. Lost in some discussion of a new novel, they’d formed a phalanx that nearly knocked Nell over when they rushed past.

  Annabelle hurried over to wipe the table, put down a fresh cup then pour Nell’s coffee. “’Morning,” she said. “It’s so good to see you,” with a rueful glance toward the departing women.

  “They’re a force to be reckoned with.” Nell took a first sip then reached for the sugar. “I do like your coffee, Belle, but I love the heat in this place even more, and I’ve already had at least six cups at home. I was up all night with a sick cow. On my way to talk with the vet when my stomach started to growl. Not sure whether I should order breakfast or lunch.”

  “We don’t serve lunch until eleven.” Which, of course, Nell knew. They were the same age and had been good friends all through school. There wasn’t much they didn’t kn
ow about each other, which was true of Shadow and Olivia as well. As she had with Sierra, Annabelle had always envied Nell her staunch independence. She probably never thought about feeling lonely or like an outsider, and no one would think of using Nell.

  Though she wouldn’t trade places. Unlike Annabelle, Nell seemed rooted to the area. She was running the Sutherland ranch virtually by herself, and seemed to love the job she’d taken over from her grandfather since Ned’s accident with Sierra.

  She told Nell about the menu special. “We do have an excellent frittata today.”

  With a blank look Nell settled deeper into the booth and pitched her battered Stetson onto the seat beside her. She shook out her hair, light brown to ash-blond and tumbling past her shoulders in a silky slide to the middle of her back. “Frittata? Whatever that is, it’s too fancy for me,” she finally said.

  “It’s really good. Try it. You’ll get an extra dose of veggies.”

  At their long-standing joke Nell groaned. She was a meat-and-potatoes girl. “Make that three eggs sunny-side up with a rasher of bacon, an order of country-fried steak—heavy on the redeye gravy—you’re on.” Almost identical to Finn’s preferred breakfast.

  Annabelle didn’t try to convince her the frittata would be far healthier. She put the order in, and by that time the morning rush had eased up so she had time for a short break. She slid into the booth, setting her mug of coffee on the table. “Nell, I have something to ask.”

  “If this is about your evening women’s group—Belle, I don’t have time and I’m not the type.” She added, “I don’t mean to put you or your friends down—”

  “Your friends, too. I realize your responsibilities at the NLS have increased, but Blossom, Shadow, Olivia and I all think you need a little play time now and then. Come on,” she said. For Annabelle, the group had been a lifesaver, though they hadn’t met just for fun since Emmie had been with her. Which reminded Annabelle again of Finn and his opinion about Emmie’s welfare.

  She took a sip of coffee. “Some good food, plenty of conversation, a little wine... What’s not to like?”

  “Everyone else knowing my business,” Nell said. “And I mean, look at you. You’re the very definition of refined, and I smell of horses and cattle.” She held up both hands. “Look at these scratches. Barbed wire. My hands are a mess but yours are as soft as butter. I’m country, you’re town—”

  “That’s no excuse.” Annabelle tried a smile. “Come next time. If you want to sit there and never say a word, we’ll cover the silence for you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” She laughed. “I never did fit in with the likes of Olivia or Shadow.”

  “Then maybe you’ll take quicker to Blossom Hunter.”

  Nell shook her head. She fiddled with her coffee spoon then dumped in another helping of sugar. She stirred and stirred. “No, and please stop asking me.”

  “You’re hopeless,” Annabelle murmured. She waited while the server put Nell’s meal in front of her. She watched Nell pour ketchup all over her eggs. As she plowed into her breakfast, Annabelle asked the question that had been on her mind long before Nell walked in. “How’s your grandfather?”

  Nell’s features softened. It was no secret in Barren or the whole of Stewart County that she adored Ned Sutherland and would do anything for him. “He’s ornery but that’s nothing new. Since he left the hospital, he thinks he knows better than I do what has to be done. Every. Single. Day. I try to cut him some slack. I nearly lost him when Sierra crossed that center line,” Nell said.

  Annabelle flinched. “At least the accident wasn’t his fault.” Another strike against Sierra, one that made Annabelle wonder even more about her. “I’m so sorry for what Sierra did but I’m glad Ned’s okay. Stubborn can be a good thing.” Except when it came to her own attraction to Finn.

  Nell said with obvious pride, “I still do whatever I please, how I please, and last month the ranch did better money-wise than we have in months.”

  Annabelle pushed her mug away. “I admire you. At least you’re happy there doing what you love.”

  She grinned. “You know me. I’m a born cowgirl, the terror of every man on that ranch, including PawPaw’s foreman. He’s six foot two and outweighs me by fifty pounds—but I’m still the new boss. I make sure he knows it.”

  When Annabelle said nothing, Nell tilted her head until she was nearly ducking under Annabelle’s chin to catch her eye. Her fork poised above her steak, she said, “Sorry. I know you’ve been meaning to leave this place.”

  “Not just yet, it turns out.”

  Nell made a sympathetic face. “I should have said how sorry I am about Sierra. And I heard about your trip. About Emmie Hartwell. When will you be able to go?”

  She forced a small laugh. “I still intend to get out of this town but I guess it will have to be...later.” She paused. “Emmie’s with Shadow today—everyone’s been so helpful—but I’m still searching for anything that might lead to Emmie’s father. So far I’ve had no luck.”

  “That’s a heavy load to carry.” Nell frowned. “And God knows you deserve a life of your own. Sierra and I always talked about the way your parents treated you. I could never comprehend that.”

  Annabelle kept quiet. She understood Nell better than she realized—she didn’t want people prying into her life either. She certainly wouldn’t mention Finn, but their laughter last night still played through her mind like one of Emmie’s favorite videos. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d missed seeing him today, a topic not open for discussion.

  Nell smiled. “I bet you still have all those posters on your bedroom wall.”

  “I moon over them every chance I get.”

  “Keep dreaming, Belle.” Nell polished off the last of her bacon and eggs. “I’ll be waiting for the day I get a postcard from Paris or London.”

  With Emmie to think of, and the guilt that inspired, Annabelle was waiting too.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FINN HAD THE night shift and made his usual rounds through town. He stopped at the hardware store to make sure the alarm was on and working as it should, drove by a house on the far side of town to check for a car that, because of a restraining order on its driver, shouldn’t be there. He checked the café, the stores along Main Street and the lock on Annabelle’s diner. And for no reason at all, he rolled by her house.

  Her lights were on but he didn’t get out of his car. Parked on the opposite side of the street, he could see shadows through the filmy curtains at her front window. Remembering their talk in his office, he wondered—Had he been too hard on her? He envisioned her with Emmie on the sofa, reading a book, their heads bent low together, and his heart turned over.

  Just call him the Lone Ranger. He’d made that clear to Annabelle, but on so many nights like this he’d watched Caro with Alex, the boy’s hair damp from his bath as he snuggled with Caro. What was he doing here now? Spying? Or taking a mental snapshot of a home with warmth and light and love? Annabelle might not be able to see that, but he could. The kind of love he’d known once. Why would she let that go?

  He was about to put the cruiser in gear when his cell phone rang.

  “Hey,” Cooper said, then blew past any pleasantries. “Remember when I told you I didn’t have any informants left?”

  From his parking spot Finn saw shadows move behind the curtains. Annabelle lifting Emmie into her arms and starting toward the stairs? “Yeah. I remember.” His pulse began to beat a rapid tattoo.

  “Go figure, but Sanchez’s ex-girlfriend just called me. She has a story to tell.”

  Finn didn’t think that sounded on the level. “As long as you’re willing to do what for her?”

  “There might be a payment involved, but I’ll negotiate that—before we talk.”

  “No clue as to what her story might be?”

  The excitement grew in Cooper’s voice. “A
pparently she was there, Finn. The night Caroline and Alex were shot. Front-row seat.”

  “She was with Sanchez?”

  “Sitting beside him. That’s all she would say until we meet.”

  Finn didn’t recall seeing a woman in the car, but then things had happened too fast. “This could be big, Cooper. Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. Who knows if she’s even Sanchez’s ex. Or if she was in on everything and he’s planning to make me his next target.”

  “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger—”

  “Day in, day out, that’s part of the job.”

  Cooper’s words sounded full of bravado. In Finn’s case, that was no longer true. Checking out local businesses at night was as dangerous as it got. Well, except for shamelessly spying on Annabelle because he felt lousy about their conflict over Emmie and hoped to make himself feel better by stopping to see if she was all right. In Chicago, his job had become his family’s fate, their doom, and The Brothers had broken him. Yet Finn was still alive and he wanted Cooper to stay that way too.

  “Maybe I’d better take a leave of absence and come up there.”

  “Not a good idea, partner.”

  “I can be there tomorrow.”

  Cooper made a scoffing sound. “And leave your department without its sheriff? Or do you think I can’t handle this on my own?”

  “I know you can. I’d like to be there, though.”

  “Finn, that’s not going to help you. You know that. Stay where you are.”

  Finn tried to argue with him further but Cooper refused to budge. “After my first meeting with Eduardo Sanchez’s ex, I’ll get back to you. Promise. We can go from there.” Then he changed the subject to ask about Finn’s eviction.

  “I’m still looking for a new place,” Finn admitted. “I went with my Realtor to see a cabin by the creek, then another house in town, but neither one suited me or Sarge’s needs.”

  “You ought to buy something. Make a new start.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You keep telling me that.”