Since Gil was a cop in the small Southern town, his fellow officers protected their brother. Even after Georgia broke up with him, he still got away with coming into her apartment and terrorizing her. He swore that she could never leave him.
Not having the option to call for any protection, Georgia had no choice but to take her son and disappear, and Shelby was going with them. They’d planned to leave Kentucky and come to Colorado to work on a ranch.
Then came the day they were to leave town. At five o’clock, Shelby had her car packed with all their possessions. She picked Ryan up at preschool, then drove to the designated meeting spot at the strip mall. When nightfall came and Georgia hadn’t shown up, Shelby got worried, and knew in her gut something had gone wrong.
After dropping Ryan off at the babysitter, she drove to the house, but a block away she saw the police car and flashing lights, then the coroner’s vans. Panic took over and she jumped out of the car and ran to the house, but it was too late. Gil had gotten to Georgia. He’d killed her. There wasn’t any proof that he’d been the one who shot her. Of course he had an alibi. Several of his fellow officers backed him up.
She’d never trust a cop again.
She swiped at a tear. That was when she heard her name. She swung around to find Cullen Brannigan. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a henley shirt. She couldn’t help but look over the expansive chest, then realizing what she was doing, she looked at his somber face.
“Oh, Cullen.” She went to the opened door. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head, but held out the two big bags in his hand. “Brooke sent me over with some cleaning supplies. She was at the store and realized there weren’t any left here.”
She started to take the bags, but he shook his head. So she motioned him inside and led him into the kitchen. He followed her into the room lined with older white cabinets and butcher-block counters. The floor was worn but went with the rest of the house. She had boxes of pots and pans and her seasoning and spices on the table. And her extravagance had been her specialty knives.
“Thank you. This will help a lot. Once I get the kitchen organized and unpack my things, I was planning to go pick up some food, too.” She was excited that she would have an adequate kitchen to work in.
Their eyes connected, and there was a tightening in her chest that quickly spread through her body. She glanced away.
“I believe there’s shelf paper in there, so you can put away all your things.”
“It’s crazy, but the kitchen is important to me.”
He nodded. “Well, I’d hold off awhile on making too much food,” he suggested. “I have a feeling Brooke and Laurel will be bringing some food dishes by later.”
“Oh, they don’t need to do that.”
Cullen crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Sorry, there’s no stopping them. You may be a professional chef, but you’ll be getting some pretty tasty food.” He leaned forward. “Laurel’s mother is quite the baker, too. Her oatmeal cookies are out of this world.”
She nodded. “Sounds like you’ve sampled a few.”
“Of course. Luckily, since I’ve been here I’ve managed to work off the extra pounds by lifting hay bales for Trent.”
“So you don’t do any ranching like your brother?”
He shook his head. “I lived in Denver until this job came up. I really haven’t thought much about what to do with my share of this land. Trent likes that I’m here, and will probably talk me into getting some animals.” He looked out the window that faced the big empty barn. “I wouldn’t mind getting a horse or two.” He wasn’t sure right now. “I want to concentrate on my job and settle in.” He knew that since he was part owner of this property, Trent would encourage him to stay permanently.
Before she could ask, he said, “Trent’s mother was married to my father. She died suddenly last month.”
Shelby caught the sadness in his voice. “I’m sorry. She must have really loved you boys to leave you all this.”
He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I took the interim sheriff job. Sheriff Ted Carson had a heart attack.”
“Oh, I hope he’s okay.”
“From what I hear, he’s doing fine, but he has to recover from his surgery.”
“So what are you planning to do after that?”
He shook his head. “Seems we’re in the same predicament, Shelby Townsend. I’m not sure what’s going to happen in the future.”
Chapter Three
The next evening after the sun had gone down, Cullen stood at his kitchen window looking toward the cottage. After Trent’s strong urging, he’d officially moved in to the ranch house. Now his attention was focused on the other tenants living about a hundred yards away from his back door. Bright lights illuminated the small structure, and with the lack of curtains, he could easily see inside.
Shelby Townsend was busy at the stove, maybe cooking one of her specialties. Her rich mahogany hair was pulled up into a big clip, but some wild curls found their way out. She had on an oversize T-shirt and a pair of jeans covering her trim figure.
He quickly shook away his wayward thoughts and turned his attention to the table, where the boy sat, going through his photo book. Shelby said something to the child that caused them both to laugh. A soft lyrical sound seemed to vibrate through his chest, causing that familiar ache, reminding him of his solitary life.
He turned away, knowing that Miss Townsend could be a distraction if he let her. He thought back to when his shift had ended this morning, and how he had to fight from stopping by the café. Even after one of the deputies came into work all chatty about the pretty brunette Bess had hired, he’d driven home. Well, back to the motel, but just long enough to pack up his things and finally move in to the ranch house. He didn’t want the new tenants to be out here all alone.
Something else nagged at him, causing him to want to know more about the attractive, blue-eyed woman who’d moved twelve hundred miles from her home for a temporary job. The cop in him was suspicious of her motives, especially after the recent death of her sister. So many questions.
The microwave buzzer went off, pulling him back to reality. He realized he’d been standing there in the dark looking into other people’s lives.
Hell, he was one pathetic guy who didn’t have a life. He turned away and took the casserole out of the microwave. Once the word of his move had circulated through the Hidden Springs family, the contributions poured in, starting with sheets and towels. Mysteriously, his refrigerator had been stocked with food staples; butter, eggs, bacon and milk. Brooke had added a chicken casserole, and she’d also taken some to Shelby and Ryan at the cottage.
Cullen walked over and flipped on the overhead light, then reached in the drawer and found a fork, then poured a glass of milk and sat down at the large table.
He wasn’t sure if he was ready to make a home here in this small town, not beyond the next few months of his interim job anyway. He wasn’t the down-home type of guy.
Ever since he’d been a little boy, he wanted to be a cop like his dad. He’d idolized Neal Brannigan, the highly decorated, by-the-book cop.
And it had been Cullen’s goal to follow after him.
Since the day he’d entered the police academy, he’d been dedicated to his job, a job that he had learned would cost him relationships and friends.
He’d worked his way up the ranks from patrol officer and earned detective, then went into a special department for white-collar crimes. He found he liked it, and best of all, he was good at going after cybercriminals. Then he messed with the wrong people, and he got too close to breaking up an illegal credit card ring.
The next thing he knew he’d been arrested for taking bribes. They found large deposits in his bank account, all the evidence he’d compiled on the ring had disappeared and Internal
Affairs came in to investigate. He’d been humiliated, but the worst part, he didn’t get any support from his own father. Captain Neal Brannigan said he had to stay neutral. Cullen knew his father had always been a hard-ass, but he never thought the man would desert his own son.
It had taken nearly a year, and a chunk of his savings, before he was cleared of all the charges, and reinstated in the department. The question was, did he want to go back? How could he trust his fellow officers, if they didn’t have his back? Maybe that was the reason he didn’t trust many people.
Cullen took a last bite of food, then carried his plate to the sink, his thoughts still on his new neighbor. Even though he found nothing about Shelby Townsend, he also searched the national database for information on her sister, Georgia Hughes. Only a month ago Mrs. Hughes was murdered in her home.
He glanced at the cottage again. It seemed that Miss Townsend had withheld a lot of information the other night. Not that she’d been involved in any criminal activities, but the cop in him sure was curious.
There was a soft knock on the back door and he wondered if it could be Trent. He walked through the kitchen and flipped on the light in the mudroom to find Shelby and Ryan standing on the stoop.
He opened the door, but before he could speak, Shelby spoke, “Good evening, Sheriff.”
“Hello, Shelby. Ryan.”
“I don’t want to bother you. I only wanted to drop these off to say thank you for all your help.”
“Not a problem.” He took the covered plate. “What is this?”
“Cookies,” Ryan announced.
Cullen couldn’t help but smile. “Please come inside for a moment.”
Shelby shook her head. “We really can’t. I should get Ryan to bed.”
He found he didn’t want her to leave. “At least come in and tell me how work went today.” He was hoping to get more information about her sister. And he had four long hours of solitude before he left for his shift on patrol. “Or are you afraid I won’t like your cookies?”
She straightened. “Please, Sheriff. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s my baking skills.”
So he hit a sore spot. “Just for some coffee, and some milk for Ryan and share a cookie.”
“Okay, but not too long. I have the early shift tomorrow.”
“And I have the late shift tonight.” He allowed them in ahead of him. He inhaled her soft womanly scent. Whoa, she was intoxicating.
In the kitchen, he watched as Shelby looked around.
“The place is pretty big, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes, it is. I didn’t get a chance to see everything when we arrived. I love all the character.” She ran her hand over the tiled counters. The cabinets had been painted white, and the floors were the same hardwood that ran throughout the house. She went to the older stove.
“Lucky you. This is an O’Keefe & Merritt stove.” She ran her hand reverently over the chrome handles and white porcelain top. “I know the newer models are more efficient, but I love this. Reminds me of the one at my grandmother Ivy’s house.”
Good opening for some info. “Does she still live there...in Kentucky?”
She shook her head. “There isn’t anyone else left, just Ryan and me.”
He caught the sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Please, have a seat,” he said, but Ryan had wandered through the dining room to the living area. He stood staring at the big screen over the fireplace. The only thing Cullen had gotten done since yesterday had been to mount his television.
“Hey, Ryan, would you like to watch a movie?”
The boy looked at his aunt and said, “Thomas the Tank Engine, please.”
“You just said the magic words. We don’t have a television right now.” She looked at her nephew. “Maybe next time, sweetie. We can’t stay long tonight, remember?” The child didn’t argue. He just climbed up on the chair at the table.
Cullen walked to the coffeemaker, took down two mugs from above and poured them both a cup. “Cream or sugar?” he asked. “Whoa, I’m not sure if I have any sugar. I do have milk, though.”
“Black is fine,” she said.
“How did your first day at the café go?”
She smiled. “Good. Bill and Bess are sweethearts to work for. Bess even let Ryan stay at the restaurant. She made a place in a corner of the kitchen away from the work areas. A little table where he could color and play on his tablet.” She shrugged. “It’s temporary. I’m looking into some day care, but this week he can stay with me.”
“That’s great.” Cullen brought the full mugs to the table as she removed the foil from the plate of cookies. Oatmeal. He got a glass and filled it half-full with milk for Ryan and set it down in front of him. He took the chair across from the pair.
Shelby felt nervous being here with Cullen. She was attracted to this man, and that wasn’t something she needed to be thinking about, or giving him any ideas about being available. There was no time, or room, in her life for a man. Too bad.
She took a sip of the rich brew with a touch of almond favor. “This is good. The only problem might be I’m up all night.”
Cullen nodded. “And I need it to stay awake for my shift.”
“Why is the sheriff working the night shift? Aren’t you the boss?”
“The interim sheriff, and I’m the new guy here. I’m trying to get to know the area.” He took a drink of his coffee. “I should be used to pulling an all-nighter, but my body tells me differently.”
She couldn’t help but watch the man. Just his good looks drew her, but it was more. He had a way of making her aware of herself as a woman, maybe too aware. Working in a male-dominated field, she had to become one of the guys to survive in her profession.
His gaze met hers. The hazel color was almost green...his mouth was tempting. He didn’t make her feel like one of the guys.
She glanced down at the plate. “You haven’t tried my cookies.” She handed one to Ryan.
Never taking his eyes off her, Cullen reached for one and took a bite. She watched him chew, waiting for his praise. It didn’t take long.
An approving rumble erupted from deep in his chest, then he smiled. “You weren’t lying, Miss Townsend. This is great. What’s your secret?”
She shook her head. “I can’t divulge that. Maybe one day I’ll want to open my own shop and become a millionaire.”
“The million-dollar cookie. Has a nice ring to it.” He quickly finished one, then reached for another. “Are you going to take over the baking for Bess?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I made a sampler plate of things to take into work tomorrow.”
“A sampler plate? Why did I only get to test oatmeal?”
She hid a smile. “Because that was the one kind you talked about.”
“So if I put in my order now, will you bring me, say, chocolate chip, maybe sugar, or peanut butter?”
Was he flirting with her? Darn, it had been so long she couldn’t even tell. “We’ll see.”
He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m glad you brought these by tonight. I wanted to stop at the cottage to see if you’re doing okay, but didn’t want you to feel I was checking up on you and Ryan.”
Tempting as this man was, she had to ignore the little flutters of excitement. “Thank you for allowing us the privacy.”
“I want you to know that you’re safe here.”
She nodded, feeling her breath locked in her lungs as she recalled the terror of the past few weeks. Would she ever feel safe again? “Why wouldn’t I be safe out here?”
“You were all alone on a ranch, but I’m here now.”
That still didn’t help with her trust issues. Cullen Brannigan made her nervous, not in a fearful way, but in a way that could b
e just as dangerous.
* * *
ABOUT ELEVEN THIRTY, Cullen was dressed for work. He took his sidearm out of the lockbox he’d decided to keep on the high shelf in the hall closet. He slipped the Glock into his holster, snapped the leather strap over it and adjusted his utility belt. He wore a pair of dark blue trousers, and his light blue uniform shirt with his sheriff’s badge pinned over the pocket. As a detective, he carried only cuffs and his sidearm. He wasn’t used to all this bulk. Since he’d be inside the station tonight, he didn’t put on his Kevlar vest.
He grabbed his travel mug filled with coffee for his twenty-minute drive into town. He reached for his gray cowboy hat off the hook, then he turned the lock before closing the back door. He started for his patrol car when he heard the child’s scream.
What the hell? He froze in alert, then glanced at the cottage to see the place was dark, except for the porch light. He listened and then heard another frantic cry. That had to be Ryan.
He set his coffee on the hood of the car and hurried toward the cottage, but he passed the porch and went around the side to Ryan’s bedroom. He found the window untouched. No sign of any break-in.
Then he heard Shelby’s voice. “It’s okay, Ryan. I’m here, and no one will hurt you.”
Cullen glanced in the window and saw her seated on the bed, holding the child. He moved away, but listened, telling himself it was to make sure they were both okay.
“He hurt Mommy. He’s gonna get us,” the child cried. “I want my mommy.”
Shelby hugged Ryan as tight as she could, but even her secure hold didn’t stop the child’s trembling. She cursed Gil Bryant. He might never have put a hand on Ryan, but he had to watch as the bastard hit his mother.
“I know you do, sweetheart, but we talked about this. Your mother is in heaven. She’s safe with your dad.”
Her Colorado Sheriff Page 3