Rodeo Sheriff

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Rodeo Sheriff Page 7

by Mary Sullivan


  Cole stood in her kitchen, the same room that had always felt perfectly spacious to Honey, and consumed all the air.

  “I took the liberty of making coffee. Hope you don’t mind.”

  His morning-gruff voice sent shivers along her skin. Pretty sure she had goose bumps, she managed only a nod.

  “That’s good.” She could use a gallon of it.

  Evan and Madeline ate cereal inside the afghan-covered armchair fort.

  Isolated in their cocoon, they left Honey to share coffee at the breakfast table with Cole while bacon fried on the stove.

  A wail erupted from the cocoon, and Cole shot over.

  “What’s wrong?” He crouched beside the chairs.

  “Spilled,” a tiny female voice cried.

  Honey wasn’t worried. Her apartment was made to be used and any problem could be cleaned up or fixed. The damage wouldn’t be significant.

  “Lady get mad,” Madeline wailed.

  “No, she won’t,” Cole said.

  “How do you know?” Honey asked. How was he so sure of her?

  Honey couldn’t interpret the glint in Cole’s eye. “I’ve sat across a bar from you every weekend for six years.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “I know you.” So much certainty in his tone.

  Cole removed the afghans and handed Madeline’s cereal bowl to Honey. She took it to the sink, where she dumped it out. The child could have a fresh bowl.

  Cole carried Madeline to the spare bedroom.

  Honey sponged the milk from the armchair so it wouldn’t turn sour. She rinsed her sponge and repeated until it was clean.

  Evan sat quietly and watched.

  “Are you okay?” Honey asked.

  His wary nod didn’t reassure her. How unsettled his life must feel right now.

  “It’s all fine, Evan. Tori once spilled juice on the sofa. It happens.”

  She kissed his forehead and hugged him. Evan smiled.

  Cole came out of the bedroom with Madeline in a fresh top, with the milky one crumpled in his hand.

  Honey put it in the sink to soak with a little detergent.

  “Better sit at the table this time,” Cole said when he’d settled Madeline at the table with fresh cereal and milk.

  Evan ran over and joined her. Cole retrieved his cereal bowl from the cave.

  He cast Honey a lost look. “I don’t know what to do today.”

  “With the children?” Honey glanced at sunlight streaming through the large front window. “Today is Rib Fest, remember? They’ll be busy eating and playing with other children, I’m sure. We have a great day for it.”

  Cole shook his head. “Sorry. Forgot.” She could see that his fuzziness bothered him.

  He poured more coffee for both himself and Honey while she fried eggs.

  When she’d finished, he took two slices of bacon and put them back into the pan until they were well-done. “They don’t like it fatty.”

  He handed one to Evan and crumbled the other into small bites on a paper towel, which he set on the table beside Madeline.

  After breakfast, Honey washed and dressed the children while Cole cleaned their dishes and pans.

  They took the interior back stairs down to the bar, where they found Chet already in the kitchen.

  “Hey.” He stepped out of the industrial refrigerator. “Who are the kids?”

  Cole introduced them and added, “They’ll be living with me.”

  Chet didn’t bat an eye. He might be a tall, scary-looking guy with his big belly and tattoo sleeves, but he had a real fondness for children. Plus, he was perceptive enough to realize they all had work to do before the crowds arrived for lunch. He squatted in front of Madeline and Evan. “I got a bunch of brownies that need to be taste tested. Good thing you’re here. It can only be done by kids.”

  God bless Chet, Honey thought, for making the children comfortable.

  “You two want to be my official taste testers?” he asked.

  Evan nodded so hard a lock of hair fell onto his forehead. Madeline put a thumb into her mouth and nodded, too.

  Chet led them to the bar proper and set them up in a booth with cloth bar towels wrapped around their necks like bandannas.

  He retrieved two small glasses of milk and two plates. He put a brownie on each one and carried it to the children.

  Once he had them all set up, he returned to the kitchen.

  “That’ll keep ’em for a few minutes,” he said. “I’m puttin’ you both to work.”

  Cole hauled folding tables from the big storage shed out behind the parking lot at the back of the building to the curb in front of Honey’s Place. His deputies had already cordoned off a section of Main Street for the next few hours.

  Chet and Cole rolled out industrial barbecues Honey stored in the same shed. They checked to make sure hoses were clear of spiders and hooked up large propane tanks.

  Honey washed the tables and clipped on red-and-white-checked plastic tablecloths.

  “It’s gonna get hot later,” Chet said. “We’re in the shade now, but everything will be sunny at high noon.”

  “You’re right,” Honey said, “I should have ordered tents.”

  Cole whipped out his phone and called a friend in the rental business at the other end of the county.

  When he finished his conversation, he announced, “We’ll have open-sided tents here within the hour.”

  “I’m impressed.” Chet nodded.

  Sheriff Payette’s normal, capable self had just put in an appearance.

  Back in the kitchen, Honey mixed a huge batch of potato salad with the potatoes she’d boiled yesterday morning.

  She heard a noise behind her. The children stood with empty plates in their hands.

  “We couldn’t carry it all,” Evan said.

  “That’s okay. I can get your milk glasses.”

  “So? What’s the verdict?” Chet’s big voice boomed from the doorway. “Can I serve those brownies today?”

  “Yeah!” Evan jumped from foot to foot. “They were good!”

  “Good,” Madeline murmured.

  So sweet to hear her speak, even if only one word at a time.

  Within the hour, volunteers poured in, including the five other members of the Fair and Rodeo Revival Committee, all women.

  Vy showed up first with Will, to help with food. They basted innumerable racks of ribs on the barbecues with Chet’s special barbecue sauce, and Vy set up a table with scoured cutting boards where the ribs could be carved when done.

  Rachel showed up next with Tori and Beth, to help out with the children. They all gathered indoors until the activities started.

  Nadine, a journalist for the local newspaper, the Rodeo Wrangler, showed up wearing full makeup, a dress and strappy little sandals. For Rib Fest. So Nadine. So Miss Perfection. She hung Rib Fest banners at the ends of the blockaded portion of the street. At a small table, she collected tickets and sold more if needed.

  Samantha Read, Rachel’s sister-in-law, arrived with her new husband, Michael, and their four children, two hers and two his. Michael, strong from years of working on his ranch, helped set up the tents.

  Last, Max arrived. What could Honey say about Maxine? Max confounded, defied, angered and delighted. A bundle of contradictions, Max was Honey’s most confusing friend, but she loved the daylights out of her.

  “Give me something to do, Honey,” Max ordered in her husky voice.

  Honey responded and doled out all kinds of jobs to her army of volunteers, including putting Rachel and Tori in charge of watching Evan and Maddy while Honey and Chet got work done.

  Once the crowds arrived at noon, Honey and Chet dispensed drinks and ribs for two solid hours, nonstop.

  They’d moved speakers outside, and music blared down Ma
in Street. It was a fund-raiser but also a big, happy party for the whole town.

  When Honey had to go inside for more potato salad, wordlessly and naturally Cole jumped in to sell drinks, as he did in her bar on weekend evenings.

  It felt natural and right to do this for Honey.

  Chapter Six

  Cole settled into a more familiar role with Honey—for a few hours, at least—before the reality of his becoming a guardian kicked in again.

  Later, after the ribs were all gone, volunteers helped to dismantle everything and Chet put the barbecues out back to cool down before storing them. Cole moved to carry the speakers inside, but Honey stopped him.

  “Look how many kids are here. I want to play with them!”

  She put on a CD of children’s songs she kept for Tori.

  Running into the middle of the street, she yelled, “C’mon, kids, let’s dance!”

  Cole watched Honey change from business owner to child, the part of her character that disconcerted him.

  Honey led about twenty children in a rousing rendition of ring-around-the-rosy with Maddy between her and Tori.

  Amazing that she’d persuaded the child to participate.

  Honey’s white blouse fell off both shoulders. Only then did Cole realize she must be braless. The big white ruffle around the top had hidden any hint of that.

  The thought brought desire raging through him. He couldn’t remember a time once she’d turned eighteen when he had not been aware of Honey’s body, of her attractiveness, but being the master of control, he had held it in check.

  Sometimes, at moments like this when the sun shone on her waist-length curly blond hair and her smile lit up like a million bucks and her shoulders tempted him to touch, touch, touch and never stop, control was nearly impossible. Yet again, he was forced to admit how much he wanted Honey.

  Today she’d dressed in her signature style again.

  Her filmy blue skirt floated out around her, flashing glimpses of tanned knees and firm calves. Sunlight glinted from the half dozen thin silver bracelets on each arm.

  Earth mother.

  Moon goddess.

  An overgrown child playing children’s games in the middle of Main Street.

  The flash of her eyes and her laughter—God, that infectious laughter—nearly undid him. Nearly made him abandon all of his reasons for resisting the woman.

  To bring himself back to sanity, back to reason, he pulled forth every rotten memory he had of Shiloh, a trick he’d used through the years to keep his distance from Honey.

  Sure, he should have gotten over Shiloh’s betrayal years ago, and he would have if he’d been attracted to anyone other than Honey, but the lessons he’d learned from Shiloh served him well at moments like this.

  Twenty-one and itching to break free of his parents’ stifling dominance, Cole had met Shiloh in a bar near the college he’d attended. She’d bowled him over with her carefree spirit, the antithesis of the iron-solid walls of discipline and control his mother had erected in every area of his life. And in Sandy’s, too.

  A shining beacon in his otherwise ordered, boring, narrow life, Shiloh had seen easy pickings in Cole.

  He’d never known affection and passion and carefree laughter. Shiloh had all of those in spades. He’d never met anyone as free and uninhibited as she.

  She’d played him like the innocent, untried fiddle he’d been. Lord, had she played him.

  He’d cleaned out his bank accounts and his trust fund in his West Virginia hometown, had left school and hit the road with Shiloh in a beat-up, smoke-belching old Valiant.

  When he’d asked where they were headed, her reply had been typical Shiloh—“Sugar, wherever we want.”

  The thought, the sheer unadulterated nerve of just taking off, had stirred his blood like never before.

  He’d thrown back his head and laughed, free at last.

  Cole had believed in Shiloh with every cell of his young, naive heart. The wind through the open window of the car had blown her long blond curls all over him. Her filmy dresses had outlined every bone and curve and her unrestrained breasts in the sunlight.

  Every moment of every day, he’d ached for the sexual freedom of their nights and often their afternoons, too. Shiloh had been a revelation with her lack of inhibition.

  Shiloh had been right about one thing.

  It had been past time for him to get out from under his mother’s thumb. Until he’d left for college, she had controlled every single aspect of his life, even the courses he’d taken at school and the choice of career, all while his weak-willed father gave in to her every command. Cole no longer wanted his mom’s control and he would no longer be his dad.

  On a cross-country summer journey of liberty and free love, besotted, Cole had visited music festivals with her, had walked barefoot through farmers’ fields, had stolen apples from orchards and had driven in any and all directions.

  In motel after motel, during nights of unbridled, carnal passion, he’d professed his love for her.

  She’d said the same to him, right up until the morning when he’d awakened to find her gone with the car and every scrap of cash he’d owned. Every cent. Every credit card.

  He’d worked off their debt to the motel and had hitched his way across the country. He would never in a million years go back to his parents with his tail between his legs.

  Along the way, he’d picked up jobs, had worked hard on farms and ranches until he’d landed in Rodeo, Montana, and had thought, Here. This is perfect. I’ll settle here.

  Once he’d made that decision, he’d continued to work hard on local ranches while he put himself through night school in law enforcement.

  After graduation and when he’d become a deputy, his life had calmed down.

  He truly had come home.

  No way would he allow a free spirit to distract him from the straight and true arrow of his life. No way could he risk having his love betrayed again.

  Honey would never steal from him, but she could trample his heart to smithereens. Considering the depth of his love, it wouldn’t take much to destroy him.

  Honey’s laughter lit up Main Street, pulling Cole back to the present and his resolve to withstand his feelings for her.

  A couple of years ago, giving in to curiosity, he’d looked up Shiloh in the many databases to which he had access.

  She was dead, the victim of a stabbing in a motel room, maybe by someone who hadn’t liked being robbed.

  She’d never made it to her thirtieth birthday.

  He felt sorry that she’d died so young, but thanked God that, in the end, she had abandoned him. Looking around the town he loved, at the people who meant so much to him, he resolved not to allow anyone, not even Honey Armstrong, sidetrack him.

  In his screwed-up mind, she was the two opposing factions in his past—the control and the unrestricted passion.

  Even as aware as he was, he didn’t know how to see her differently.

  She might be good for those two little tykes, but she wasn’t the woman for him.

  * * *

  AFTER A BRIEF nap for the children upstairs in Honey’s apartment, they ambled down the street toward the park.

  Honey had an afternoon of grace away from work, since the bar was closed on Mondays.

  She was satisfied with today’s Rib Fest. They’d raised a lot of money for renovations of the Rodeo fairgrounds.

  “We should take the children out to see the rides at the fair,” Honey said.

  “Yeah,” Cole replied. “Maybe. They won’t be open for another couple of months, though. Might be disappointing when they can’t ride them yet.”

  “True.”

  Cole had resisted interviewing more people for the position of nanny only because he was exhausted. As much as he needed everything taken care of, he said, he also
needed a day off. Desperately.

  Honey understood.

  At the playground, a few mothers sat on benches while their children played on the equipment.

  They waved to Cole and Honey then watched curiously as they helped the children on the playground apparatus.

  Evan ran for the fireman’s pole, raced up the ladder and, barely holding on, tossed himself down to land in a heap on the ground.

  “Kid’s going to kill himself,” Cole muttered, picking him up and dusting off his butt. “Be more careful.”

  Heedless, Evan headed for the slide.

  Madeline reached for Cole’s hand and pointed to the slide. “You want to go up there?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Cole picked her up and set her at the top. She balked and all but jumped back into his arms.

  Evan slid down, laughing.

  Madeline gestured toward the top again. Cole put her up there and again she jumped back into his arms.

  Again and again, Evan slid down while Madeline watched.

  “Do you want me to go up with you?” Honey asked.

  Madeline nodded and reached for Honey’s hand.

  Honey took her up the steps and hunched down to get through the covered archway to the top of the slide.

  “Good thing I’m small.” She laughed.

  Expression inscrutable, Cole said, “Yeah.”

  Honey had no idea what he was thinking. She never had been able to figure him out.

  Madeline put her hand on the side of Honey’s face to draw her attention back to the task at hand.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Honey put her legs on either side of Madeline’s so the child’s ankles and knees wouldn’t rub against the sides of the slide on the way down. She wrapped her arms around Madeline and pushed off.

  “Oh no!” She’d underestimated their combined weights and slid down too fast.

  Cole lunged to the bottom of the slide to catch the two of them, lifting Honey by her upper arms and wrapping his own around the two of them so neither hit the ground.

  “Good thing you’re strong.” Honey laughed to cover the confusion sparked in her by the heat and nearness of Cole’s body.

  She liked him touching her. Really liked it.

 

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