by Laura Marie
Damn Lawrence! Damn that no good bastard!
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The sheriff broke the silence as he held the reins to her horse in his hands. Who the hell did he think he was?
“If you don’t mind.” Julianna was full of attitude, grabbing the reins back out of his hand. The sheriff didn’t release them and instead moved closer toward her.
Staring straight up, with her head practically touching the back of her shoulders, she locked gazes with the sheriff.
“I’m sorry, Miss McKay.”
“You should be sorry…” Julianna stopped speaking as she realized he called her by her real name. The panic sunk in as she took a step backwards in an attempt to put some distance between them. Her shoulders hit the mare.
She swallowed hard.
Cautiously, she asked, “What did you call me?”
“Miss McKay…that is your real name, isn’t it, ma’am?” His eyes squinted in a deep stare at her, just challenging her to lie. Something told her she shouldn’t as the uneasy feeling deepened.
Her body was shaking, and the worry consumed her as she searched the sheriff’s body. Was he carrying a weapon? Did he work for Lawrence? Was he going to kill her right now? The tear escaped her eye, and in a panic she glanced around them, noting the isolation and how accessible she made herself. She never thought…That was the problem. She started to feel comfortable, started to let her defenses down, and now look where it got her.
“Miss McKay, are you all right?” he asked, placing his hand underneath her elbow.
A feeling of warmth traveled through her from the place his solid strong hand held her elbow, all the way to her chest.
Quickly she pulled away from him, shaking her head side to side and holding herself around the stomach. A sudden burning feeling concentrated around the scar on her stomach.
“Don’t hurt me, please.”
His expression changed, and he released her elbow then took a step away.
The wind blew, sending locks of her brown hair across her face and eyes. She couldn’t move, was frozen in place waiting for him to pounce. Then the scent of his cologne lingered around her. It was pleasant and manly. In her mind, Julianna attempted to be rational, to come up with a way to escape attack.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
His strong voice interrupted her planning. Was he serious?
She wanted to believe that, she just couldn’t.
“I haven’t done anything wrong. Why are you bothering me?”
He squinted his eyes at her insult, and she cringed, taking a slow step backward.
“You haven’t…except lie about your real name. So why would an attractive young thing like you do such?”
Was this all a game to him? Why was he asking these questions? Just make your move. Anger now consumed the fear.
“It’s none of your business. Unless you’re one of those sheriffs who takes bribes, harasses the innocent because some wealthy big shot tells you to.”
She eyed him from head to toe, suddenly letting her anger and fear protect her.
He gave her a challenging look and nearly smirked at her tone. Cockiness invaded her thoughts and actions. The sheriff’s confident demeanor enraged her.
“Expensive Stetson, top of the line cowboy boots.” She walked around him more so to place some distance between them as she let her knuckles run alongside the waist of his jeans.
“Designer jeans or Wranglers?”
The gleam in his eye should have warned her she had gone too far as he grabbed her around the waist, closing the distance between them.
The wind picked up, blowing her hair across her face, but she held her hands against his forearms, trying to maintain some control.
Gazes locked, his hand came slowly towards her cheek, and she flinched, closing her eyes, anticipating the strike.
But it never came.
She felt a gentle touch as the sheriff carefully removed the strands of hair from her face then caressed her cheek.
She willed her eyes closed, and she bowed her head, embarrassed by her reaction and obvious show of fear. She made a mess of things, knew instantly he would have even more questions now. The need to escape was apparent as the tightening sensation reached her lungs.
* * * *
Johnny felt a heat of anger swarm through his entire body. How dare she suggest that he was corrupt? When she touched his waist, he found himself wanting to feel her skin. He wanted to kiss her. But then she flinched, as if he would hit her.
The anger was directed elsewhere as he wondered what had happened to Julianna back in New York.
She kept her eyes closed, more than likely out of fear or embarrassment from her conditioned reaction.
“You’re a skittish little thing, ain’t ya?” He attempted to act as if he hadn’t noticed.
He placed his hand under her chin, indicating for her to open her eyes.
She did, and the tears escaped instantly.
“Now, now, darlin’, there’s no reason to be cryin’. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
She shook her head side to side, and he could feel her body trembling.
“Then why are you still holding me?” she asked in a shaky voice.
His heart sank. She was afraid of him.
In an attempt to lighten up the moment, he chose his words carefully.
“Cause I want to.”
The silence fell between them, their gazes deeply locked for a few long, heavy seconds.
“Please let me go.”
Her quivering lips were ripe for the taking, but something told him to wait.
He nodded his head towards her then released her even though he didn’t want to.
The look of desperation and sadness in her eyes made him take a few steps to the side. He picked up her hat and handed it to her.
“You be careful riding back now, ya hear.”
He headed towards his horse but could feel her eyes upon his back.
He straddled Lightning and off he rode.
* * * *
Julianna sucked in a deep breath then fanned herself.
Why had she lost it in front of him? What did he want from her? Was he playing some sort of game?
She wiped her tears then jumped onto her horse to head back to Palmer Place.
In her mind she wondered what had possessed her to accuse him of corruption then to touch him as she did.
She didn’t think. She just reacted and ran her knuckles across his waist. He was so manly and rugged. The scent of pine and outdoors rushed through her nostrils, and the sensation of desire ran through her veins like a raging river. There was no other way to describe it or to describe him. He was the personified male in its most perfect form.
Yet the chains of resistance, fear, and uncertainty inside her seemed to teeter for control in the hopes of some proof that the sheriff was real.
Could he be what her emotional weakness conjured up in her mind, or was he just another controlling male, perhaps one specifically out to cause her demise?
It was something she found herself not wanting to believe.
Just thinking about his build, his intriguing eyes, and his sex appeal made her weak at the knees. Ultimately, she could sense her reservations at the aura of his power.
But he was so rugged yet gentle.
She had done everything she could not to glide her hand across his waist more slowly. The solidity of his trim waist, wide shoulders, and height reminded her of some superhero.
What a foolish reaction to a stranger, a mean stranger no less.
Then when he pulled her into his arms, she liked it. Instantly, his arms reminded her of a barrier of protection and strength. It felt right, and it felt downright scary as hell.
The feel of his denim shirt against her skin, the muscles beneath her palms and fingertips, set her body on fire.
Knowing she was a level-headed person who learned from her mistakes, acknowledged her faults, and tried desperately to move forward i
n life instead of moving back, the sheriff remained on her mind.
Perhaps subconsciously, her mind had created the belief that some traditional cowboy, bull-riding, hunk of a man could save her from what seemed to be a painful life of mistakes, heartache, and bad luck.
Cowboys had a certain image and certain…for lack of a better word, attributes, that made them signify strength, sex appeal, indispensable agility, and power that made other men weak and women swoon. The happy-ending story of a hero created for women like her. Needy, fragile, scarred, betrayed. The list went on.
Her reaction to him was a mistake. He was crude, rude, confident, and manipulating.
In a glance he had her shedding tears, weakening in his massive embrace, and speechless.
She didn’t need this emotional confusion right now. She had to stay away from Sheriff Black. She just had to.
Chapter 7
Soon the winter months descended upon Claire County as the first snowstorm of the season hit two days later, and Julianna attempted to get used to the cold, frigid temperatures.
She had always enjoyed skiing, snow tubing, and other winter sports in the Catskills of upstate New York and places like Lake George, but this was different. As a child and a teenager growing up in Texas, she had gotten used to the weather. It had been mild most of the winters over the years, but then there were other times when the winters were brutal. It appeared that this winter would break both temperature and snow fall accumulation records.
She took it as a challenge as a New Yorker who was used to cold, and now here she was, pulling on her snow gear and tightening up her cross-country snow skis, about to take on the snow-covered dirt roadways of Claire County.
Yes, it was a city-girl thing to do, but she didn’t fret over the responses from the ranch hands or the townsfolk.
“Hey there, Miss Jules, whatcha call them thangs?” Rooster asked as she made her way from the cottage to the driveway. Rooster was driving the old blue pickup truck and on his way into town.
“These are called skis, Rooster,” she added as she caught her breath. Even though she had traveled a short distance, the snow was deeper and harder to cross. The main roadways would be a lot smoother now that the local traffic packed the snow down.
“I thought them skis were supposed to be long, looks like you got gypped.”
Julianna laughed.
“These are cross-country skis. People wear these to travel trails and cross the land. Regular skis are longer and used for skiing the slopes.”
“Does everybody wear outfits like the one you’re wearing when they’re skiing?” He eyed her from head to toe with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Julianna smiled.
“What? You don’t like my outfit?” she teased as she placed her hands on her hips.
Rooster blushed and cleared his throat.
“See ya later, Rooster,” Julianna stated with a smile then headed out towards the road.
* * * *
Julianna made her way through town, waving at a few of the locals who were friends with her aunt and uncle.
“Who is that?” Lou Black asked Tod Perkins.
“That lovely young girl is Roy Palmer’s niece. She’s from New York. Been helping support the horse-ranching business from what Roy says.”
“Really? That’s some outfit she’s got on,” Lou stated as he glanced towards the feed supply store and the group of young men watching Julianna pass by. Another glance towards the Sheriff’s Office revealed his son in an angry stance by the door. He had one hand on his holster and the other leaning on his hip. The scowl on his face told Lou something was up. Johnny was staring at the young men gawking at the Palmer girl.
“Interesting. Very interesting,” Lou stated out loud.
* * * *
An hour later, Julianna was making her way back across the roadway when she heard a truck approaching.
Tired and perspiring, Julianna moved closer to the side to allow room for the truck to pass. Instead they seemed to slow down as if they were following her.
A quick glance over her shoulder and she nearly tripped. She cursed under her breath, and then she slowed down.
The sheriff’s black truck was pulling alongside her. The echo of the diesel engine, the size of the truck, and the knowledge of who the driver was, caused Julianna’s body to shake. Everything about the man was daunting and put her on edge.
She stopped, and Julianna wondered what he wanted but hoped he would just pass her by. No such luck. The sheriff rolled his window down.
“Miss Palmer.” He tipped his hat towards her.
Julianna tried to catch her breath. “Sheriff.” She gripped the ski poles tighter and forced her gaze to meet his. Why he bothered to continue to call her Miss Palmer was a mystery to her. She didn’t want to think too much about it. Trust no one.
She watched him as dark eyes rolled over her body from head to toe. Her stomach clenched, and her heart rate increased. The man knew he had sex appeal and then some. The confident way he hardly leaned forward as if she should move closer to give him a better view. Maybe other women reacted that way to him or perhaps all people, but not her. Giving into his demands, his threatening attitude, would make her weak and feeling controlled again. Not her…not again.
His stare intensified as he took in every angle of her body from the cab of the sheriff’s truck.
She wondered if anyone in Claire County had ever seen ski pants and a ski jacket.
Thermal underwear under a pair of blue jeans weren’t going to cut it in the protection department while cross-country skiing.
Her patience was growing thin.
“Something I can do for you, Sheriff? As you can see, I’m headed back towards Palmer Place.”
“Nah, just wanted to see what all the ruckus was about, that’s all,” he stated with that damn smirk of his, and she wondered what the hell he was talking about.
Every word was dragged out, and she was in a hurry.
“What ruckus?” she managed to ask in an annoyed tone. When he raised his eyebrows in obvious disapproval of her tone, she felt her cheeks heat and was suddenly thankful for the frigid temperature. He eyed her from head to toe again, and Julianna’s stomach tightened. Why did her stomach do that every time he looked at her?
“Well, that would be you and that skintight outfit ya all are wearing.”
She felt as if he were reprimanding her like some child. Her anger emerged and not just because he questioned her outfit, but the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she should have worn the damn thermal underwear and jeans. Maybe if she had, then the damn sheriff and the rest of the town’s folk would have just plain ignored her.
“No one’s ever seen skis or a ski outfit before?” Julianna placed her hands on her hips.
“Skis we’ve seen, doll, a body like yours in an outfit like that tends to stand out. You know, stay on a man’s mind, make a group, let’s say at the local tavern, drool and gossip about.”
Julianna could feel her cheeks burning again. He had a way with words and for making her doubt her better judgment. Jerk! In her mind the tirade continued. She was steaming mad. Why did he have to speak so slowly in that deep Southern tone that reminded her of warm brandy sliding down her throat? She practically felt the pathway of the warm sensation as it traveled to her belly.
If she could have smacked herself for acting like some silly school girl, she would have. Instead she forced herself to ignore the sensations and fight his manipulating tactics tooth and nail.
While trying to maintain her temper and composure, she replied, “So you all had to travel my way to see for yourself?”
Dark eyes held her gaze as he squinted. “Mighty glad I did, although, there was a truckload of men in town, raring to trek themselves this way to take another gander.”
Glancing over her shoulder towards the direction of town and, thank goodness, an empty road, Julianna replied, “So should I be expecting some more distractions and other gawking males with no
business looking or making comments?”
The sheriff smiled. Once again only slightly, and not what Julianna could officially call a “smile.”
“Not if they wanna deal with me.”
She was hesitant a moment then responded.
“Well, I appreciate the fact that you won’t allow the male residents of Claire County to harass me or come gawking. After all, cross-country skiing is a sport, a form of exercise that you and the rest of the town folk should get used to. I’m thinking of ordering some equipment and adding some winter activities for our clients who frequent Palmer Place in the winter.”
Holding her gaze as she spoke, the sheriff, it appeared, had developed a twinkle in his eyes.
“Believe me, Miss McKay, my reasons for stepping in were purely selfish.”
Julianna was shocked. The sheriff was flirting with her, and those damn eyes of his were doing a number on her insides.
She quickly had to remind herself of his persona and stick to her guns to stay clear.
The man had the devil in his eyes. Her curiosity made her wonder if it were also in his kiss.
She glanced away.
“I’d better get going.”
Julianna quickly headed towards the ranch while the sheriff continued driving ahead of her.
She couldn’t help but wonder if he would stop at Palmer Place to check on Lightning.
The farther she skied, the more she found herself hoping to see him again.
“Damn it! I can’t be attracted to him. I just can’t be. Men cannot be trusted. There are no more good ole boys, no knights in shining armor, so give it up, Jules, learn from your mistakes and focus on your future.”
As her warm breath collided with the cold air causing smoke to appear, she realized that she was talking out loud. She accepted the fact that she had finally lost it and no thanks to the friendly county sheriff.
* * * *
By the time she made it to the cottage, she was in a sour mood. She hadn’t seen the sheriff’s truck when she arrived and couldn’t believe the disappointed feeling she had.
A damn fool is what she was…a damn fool.