Undercover Sheriff

by Barbara Phinney

  A tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily and finished tidying up. It was time she grew up and accepted the fact that her life was already set before her and it didn’t include any man, least of all Zane.

  * * *

  The next morning, Tuesday, Zane looked up as Rachel entered the sheriff’s office. In one hand was her basket of medical supplies and with the other, she slowly led in Daniel. Immediately, Zane rose and smiled down at the little boy. The child looked so much better than even a few days ago. His cheeks had lost their hollowness, and his hair, as black as Zane would expect when the child’s mother had Spanish roots, was washed and combed. He wore an outfit that was slightly too big for him but looked comfortably warm and clean. Daniel smiled up at him, a testament to his natural friendliness.

  Zane allowed his gaze to settle on Rachel’s smiling face. She looked far calmer than she had yesterday. When he’d left, he’d felt disconcerted by her expression. Getting shot at must have shocked her more than he’d initially realized.

  “We’ve come to check on our patient,” Rachel said brightly.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. Whatever that salve was that you put on has done its job. I expected the wound to sting and redden, but it’s healing nicely.”

  “How do you know that? Didn’t I tell you not to remove the bandage?”

  “I bathed. I needed to do so, or Mrs. Shrankhof might refuse to feed me.”

  She smiled. “That would never happen.”

  “Couldn’t take the chance. By the way, I saw Mayor Wilson. Without saying too much, I convinced him to keep me on. Being shot at has helped my case, I think. It’s clear that the town needs someone on the job until Alex can return.”

  “Effective persuasion technique, although dangerous.” Rachel set down her basket and lifted Daniel to sit on a nearby chair. She tugged off his woolen hat and mittens, and set them on the desk beside him. “Stay here, Daniel. Look, I have a toy for you.” She pulled a small wooden truck from her basket and handed it to him. He immediately dropped to the floor to play with it.

  With a shake of her head, she sighed. “Another man who doesn’t listen.”

  With a chuckle, Zane peeled off his jacket, trying to keep his face neutral. He tugged his shirttail free to pull up the material just enough to expose the bandage. Rachel unwound it. At the sight of the gash, she grimaced.

  “It’s not that bad,” he told her. “It’s not even red and tender. No need to worry like you did yesterday.”

  She shut her eyes a moment, as if to gather her wits together. “You’re right. It’s healing nicely.” After she cleared her throat, she added, “I just don’t want you to work for a while.”

  Didn’t she want Alex found and Rosa in custody so she could answer why she was involved with the kidnapping? He studied her. “Have you ever seen a gunshot wound before?”

  “No. Lots of bruises with a few cuts, and once a minor knife wound. I guess it’s just the thought that if you had shifted even a few inches to your left, that bullet could have ended up in your heart.”

  “It didn’t.” He watched her as she set out her supplies. She was obviously determined to bandage the wound again. “Do you remember anything more from Rosa’s crib?” he asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid. I didn’t have time. Mother bombarded me with a litany of questions after you left. It was exhausting.”

  “She was polite when I was there.”

  “Her breeding would allow nothing less in your company. But not so the moment you closed the door. She came storming down the stairs like the cavalry. My mother would have made an excellent solicitor, by the way. No one would dare lie to her.” Her smile turned rueful. “I simply didn’t see your shooter’s face. All I saw was his feet.”

  Zane wasn’t surprised. It had all happened so fast, and he’d been ill prepared to properly defend them. While he’d had his hand on his gun as he’d entered the dim crib, he should have forced Rachel to stay outside until he knew it was safe to enter. He should have had his gun drawn fully from the holster, too.

  As soon as Rachel had lit the lamp, he’d noticed the boots and guessed a man was in the bed. If he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, things could have turned out far differently.

  But he still hadn’t acted fast enough.

  “All I saw was his feet and a glimpse of an arm as he bent down to pick up his boots,” Rachel was saying as she continued her mercy task.

  Zane tipped his head to look up at her. “What kind of boots were they?”

  She stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a woman with refined tastes. Were the boots stylish? Common? Polished? Scuffed?”

  “Refined tastes?” Her brows shot up. “I’m a woman who accepts fashion advice from her mother because it keeps her from interfering with my ministry. A small trade-off, I might add.”

  “But that taste is refined. You’re used to dressing fashionably.”

  Rachel shrugged. “I suppose it is refined. But it’s not that I insist on wearing only the best, just what Mother wants me to. She does have nice taste.”

  “And I’m sure she also dressed your father, so you must have learned something from her about men’s styles. What color were the boots?”

  “Black, and quite dusty. A pale dust that was almost shimmery. I saw the way the lamplight made the dust look a bit pink.”

  Rachel stood back, a look of wonder on her face. “Now that I think about it, I would say that it almost looks like the color of the outside of our house when the lamp above the door is lit. I know, I’ve seen it enough times late at night.”

  Zane tensed. Ignoring the bandage dangling from his ribs, and the twinge of pain, he leaned over and removed a bundle from the bottom drawer of his desk. “I brought Daniel’s clothes in with me this morning, hoping that we might be able to identify the dust I found on them. Maybe even compare it.”

  “To what?”

  “To the clothes on the person we finally arrest for kidnapping Alex.”

  Rachel stiffened. “You mean Rosa?”

  “If we find matching dust on her clothes, that won’t prove anything. She’s Daniel’s mother. It’s a good chance that whatever dirt he’s touched, she’d have on her, as well. And vice versa. No, I still think she has a partner.”

  “You mentioned it at White Horse Bluff. What makes you so sure of that?”

  “It wouldn’t be easy for a small woman to haul Alex around if he was unconscious. We’re not small men. She’d need another pair of hands because it would be too easy for Alex to try to escape while she was sleeping, or while she was away. Should we ever find her accomplice, I’m hoping we can compare the dust.” He undid the bundle. Along with the clothes, he’d also tucked inside the bundle the small envelope of powder he’d scraped off Daniel’s jacket. “If her accomplice has the same dust, it will prove he has been there with Daniel.”

  “First, let me finish wrapping you up.” She quickly completed her task. Zane watched her face. A troubled expression marred her beautiful features. Again, she’d been careful with her toilet, with fussily pinned curls and powder perfecting her complexion.

  Her mouth remained pursed, though not so tight as to threaten lines like those small ones between her brows. With her clenched jaw, Zane knew she was upset.

  Of course she would be. Disappearances, kidnappings, shoot-outs. An abandoned child. He could understand why her mother had announced that she didn’t want the details. Far too stressful.

  When Rachel was finished, she took the tiny envelope from Zane’s hand and carefully opened it on his desk’s blotter to study it. “It’s hard to say for sure, but it looks like rhyolite.”

  “Rhyolite?”

  “It’s a type of stone quarried here. There are several large deposi
ts around Castle Rock. That’s why all the fine stone buildings around here, my house included, have their front facades made of it. They’re constructing some government offices in Castle Rock, and the whole building is going to be made of rhyolite. That’s why the Recording Office is temporarily in Proud Bend. We’re not the county seat here, but we have it until the office is built.”

  “I met the Recording Officer.”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure you like him. He has no sense of humor, either.”

  Zane tossed her a sharp look. She tried to hide her smile as she folded the envelope and returned it. “I remember there was a lot of dust on that shooter’s boots,” she said.

  She turned away before gasping and spinning back. “His hands! I saw them as he leaned down to grab his boots! They were tanned and wrinkled.” Rachel gasped again in realization. “They had spots on them like my mother’s. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d be mortified.”

  “I won’t.” Zane tucked the envelope again back in with the clothes. “So the man wasn’t young. You did well, Rachel. That’s good.”

  She beamed and began to tidy up her things. “Try not to do too much for another day or two. And don’t tell me that you’ve had a gunshot wound before. I’d rather not hear that.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’ve been shot at, but not hit until now.”

  Rachel finished her task quickly, her mouth tight and the slight creases returning between her brows. When she’d finished repacking her supplies, he laid a hand down over hers. Her gaze slid up to his. Those beautiful eyes, a blue as clear as the sky on a fine summer’s day, widened.

  They were wary, wanting to trust, but not so open as yesterday. She bit her lip.

  “Thank you,” he said, holding her gaze.

  “You thanked me yesterday.”

  “I’m thanking you again today.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. When they’d met, she’d been as bold as the magpie that frequented Mrs. Shrankhof’s yard and whose ridiculous nest teetered high in the tree behind the chicken coop. If he’d known he could knock Rachel off center simply by showing gratitude to her, he’d have tried it before now. Apparently, Rachel Smith wasn’t used to flattery. The men in Proud Bend must be idiots.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. You saved my life yesterday.” She shook her head. “I wonder who he was.”

  Zane had his theories, but he needed to confirm a few things first. He didn’t want Rachel insisting on accompanying him like some battlefield nurse. She had Daniel, and getting shot at had truly rattled her. “Forget him,” he muttered. “He’s long gone. I’ve asked the blacksmith to change the lock on Rosa’s crib, too, in case there is another key.”

  “Nothing seemed touched. Alex searched her room as soon as I reported her missing, and I had looked in it, as well.”

  “Didn’t you trust him?”

  “I believed I could add to the investigation. You know, a fresh pair of eyes.” She sighed. “It was a foolish thought. I don’t own a gun, let alone know how to fire one, although Father bought Mother a small pistol once. I can only thank the Lord that no one dangerous was hiding in that crib the day that I went. No, the only thing I could do was identify a few personal items and that tin of biscuits.”

  “Did you notice if it was all still there yesterday?”

  She lit up. “It was, but the tin had been opened. I remember seeing it under the bed. The last time I saw it, it was closed and on the bedside table.” Her eyes shone. “Do you think that means anything?”

  “Only that our squatter searched around for food before he fell asleep. He must not have been that drunk, then.”

  “Or he knew what was there. It’s not one of those fancy tins. It was plain and could easily be overlooked.” Rachel shook her head. “I wish I was more helpful.”

  “Think of the dust. You’re more helpful than you realize. You’re also one of the bright spots in my trade, Rachel Smith.”

  She laughed shakily. “And not a bad nurse? I think we will keep your wound covered with salve for one more day.”

  Zane nodded. Odd that they had managed to survive the shooting at the crib with only his slight injury. Even now, thinking of how differently things could have turned out sent a shiver through him.

  Thank You, Lord.

  He’d started an investigation immediately. Zane didn’t think the bartender would offer anything to him, so this morning he’d sent the deputy to ask people around the saloon if they’d seen anyone lurking around Rosa’s crib the night before.

  It left him alone here with Rachel.

  His heart leaped at the thought.

  No, it was not appropriate. Just like yesterday. Back there in the crib, after the shots and after the shooter had left, when the mood had shifted, Rachel had asked to be held, a request he’d never expected from her. And he’d obliged. Willingly. Even now, the memory of holding her in his arms rushed through him like a hot summer breeze. He’d liked the feel of her. She was tall and slender, with light, lithe curves. Rachel had a fragile feel to her, like she needed to be protected.

  He’d seen her up close, too, her blue eyes and long, luxurious dark hair. Yes, she kept it well under control, but he knew it would have to be long and wavy to do all the artistic things she had going on under that small, neat little hat. After he’d thrust her to the floorboards and after she’d helped him up, he’d noticed that some of those rich black waves had escaped and tumbled down her slender neck.

  Her skin was clear, pale and creamy, tempting him to brush his hands along her cheeks before he cupped her jaw and dared to take the kiss he’d wanted since yesterday morning beside the bandstand.

  Zane stood and reached for Rachel. She looked up at him, not pulling away. They stood for a moment, staring at each other, Zane searching Rachel’s face, yet not knowing what he was looking for.

  Suddenly, he didn’t care about anything but holding her. His eyes drifted shut as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  “Puppy!”

  * * *

  Rachel jumped and quickly stepped out of Zane’s embrace. Her attention immediately fell on Daniel. He had crawled back up onto the chair she’d plunked him into when they’d first entered the office, and was now twisted around in it and pointing out the window.

  Glancing outside, she saw a number of people, with one hurrying by, his head down and mostly hidden by his battered bowler hat. Beyond him, far in the distance, was a dog, but it wasn’t the one from behind the saloon who’d birthed puppies. Still, to a small child, all dogs probably looked the same. She looked down at Daniel, who peered up with expectation on his expression. He banged the toy truck on the back of the chair.

  “What does he want?”

  “The puppies, I guess,” Rachel answered with a shrug. “I should take him to visit them. I think the mother has them hidden at the end of the cribs or behind the haberdashery. There are a number of bushes and small sheds there.”

  “Will the mother let you near them?”

  “Yes. I’ve even petted her before. I’ll bring her a few bones from our kitchen.”

  “There must be one puppy in particular he likes,” Zane commented. “He keeps asking for just ‘puppy.’”

  “Either that or he doesn’t know the difference. He’s only two and a few months. The pastor’s wife once said that boys sometimes take longer to learn to speak than girls.”

  “Women have a lifetime of things to say. May as well get started early on it.”

  She smiled at him. “Don’t insult your nurse, Sheriff. I have access to stinging medications.”

  Zane laughed and the bold heartiness of it caught in Rachel’s breath. She hadn’t heard it before now, and it was rich and full. A woman could listen to it for hours.

  She cleared her throat. “Well,” she
said. “I think we will walk over and see if we can find the puppies.”

  “Don’t go back to the cribs, Rachel.”

  “Now or tonight?”

  “Neither.” His expression darkened. “Not until we’ve found Alex and the investigation is closed.”

  Rachel ran a nervous tongue over her dry lips. If she did as he asked, what would that say about her ministry? That she was willing to discard it for a man who had nearly kissed her? What did that say about her?

  “If you won’t do it for me,” he added, “think of Daniel.”

  Rachel shut her eyes. She had planned to go. Jake was supposed to be her escort tonight, but that had been arranged weeks ago. He was in no state to escort her.

  Daniel needed caring for, too, and until she could arrange for a nanny, her maid had been assigned the bulk of that task. But the girl split her time between Rachel and Victoria already. Besides, Rachel thought as she looked down at the boy watching expectantly out the window, she had started to enjoy having Daniel around.

  So, was going out the wisest thing to do? Before tonight, Rachel had answered to no one, and oddly, she now felt as though she answered to one small child. Daniel had had enough dangerous living, for his mother’s lifestyle wasn’t the kind that offered safety and she was all he had. Rachel never even asked who or where the boy’s father was. The least she could do was give Daniel a safe life until Rosa returned.

  But what if Rosa had kidnapped Alex and simply returned to take Daniel back, without a care for Alex? Could Rachel refuse to surrender him?

  She was getting ahead of herself. Surely, Rosa was a victim, too. She had endured so much, with her mother’s unsolved murder and her own father mostly absent from her life. Rachel wasn’t sure she could deny the woman her only family, regardless of her faults.

  “Rachel?” Zane prompted her.

  She pulled herself from her private questions. Zane was watching her closely, hopefully, and Rachel felt a powerful desire to do what he asked. But was she going to stay away from the cribs for Daniel, or for Zane? Daniel needed her. How did Zane fit into this? Her heart thudded in her chest. What about her life’s work? Was it no longer important? She swallowed, hating herself for her questions.