by Lori Foster
There were two grocery stores at opposite ends of the street, a clothing store that looked as if it had been there for over a hundred years, a diner and a hairdresser, a pharmacy…She eyed the pharmacy as they drove past, wondering how awkward it might be to get her prenatal vitamin prescription filled; she’d run out of them yesterday.
One thing she didn’t see was a bus station, and she wondered just where the nearest one was. After her comment earlier that she’d take a bus home, she felt rather foolish to realize there wasn’t a bus around. You’d think one of the brothers could have mentioned that fact to her.
There were people sitting outside their shops, others lounging against the wall or standing close chatting. There were even some rocking chairs sitting under canopied overhangs, to invite loiterers.
“This is like going back in time,” she murmured as they drove to the end of the street then turned right onto a narrower side street. There were a few houses, a farm with some cattle moving around, and a funeral parlor, which was easily the biggest, most ornate structure she’d seen so far. Then Morgan pulled into the circular drive of a building that looked like an old farmhouse. It was two stories with a grand wraparound porch, white columns in the front and black shutters at every window.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“This is my office, darlin’.” He chuckled at her as he drove right up close to the front door and stopped. The double doors wore a professional sign that read: Enter at Right. Evidently that didn’t apply to the sheriff.
Morgan parked and turned off the engine. “The station used to be by the county courthouse, farther into town, but it was too small so years ago, long before I was elected, they moved it here. Makes for a bit of whimsy doesn’t it?”
Morgan climbed out, and at that moment two men came around from the side of the house to greet him. “Hey there, Morgan! Didn’t expect to see you today. Anything wrong?”
Morgan frowned, as if surprised to see them. “Nope, no problems. I was just showing the lady around.” He opened Misty’s door and handed her out of the vehicle. Close to her ear, he said, “Two of the biggest gossips around. They weren’t supposed to be here today, but that never stopped them before. And since they’re here, we might as well take advantage of it.”
Misty leaned away to look at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Anything they see makes the rounds of Buckhorn faster than light. This’ll be a good place to start letting folks know you’re off-limits.”
Misty froze just as her feet touched the ground. Surely, Morgan didn’t mean to do anything in front of these nice old men! But then she met his hot gaze and knew that was exactly what he intended.
She started to shake her head but he was already nodding. And darned if he wasn’t smiling again.
7
ALL IT TOOK, Morgan thought as he watched Misty’s eyes darken and her lips part, was a nice long look from him. She could deny it all she wanted, but her hunger was almost as bad as his own. When he felt it, she felt it, and right now was proof positive.
Well aware of Howard and Jesse closing in behind him, their curiosity caught, he leaned down and kissed her. It was a simple soft touch. He brushed his mouth over hers, once, twice. She drew a small shuddering breath, and her eyes slowly drifted shut, but she didn’t stop him. No, she’d raise hell with him after, he had no doubt of that, but for now, she was as warm and needy as he. Her small hand fisted in his shirt, trying to drag him closer, proved it.
“Misty?” He whispered her name, watching the way her eyelashes fluttered.
“Hmm?”
His own smile took him by surprise. All his life people had teased him about his ferocious frowns, but something about Misty made him feel lighthearted, joyful deep inside. He touched the tip of her nose. “Sweetheart, we have an audience, or I’d sure do better than one measly peck, I promise.”
Her eyes flew open, then widened. She peeked around his shoulder cautiously, saw the two men, and her own version of a fierce frown appeared. Her fisted hand released his shirt, and she thumped him in the chest. “Of all the—”
Morgan grabbed her hand, threw one arm around her shoulders and turned, taking her with him to face Howard and Jesse. “I thought I told you two not to work on the weekend.”
“Nothing better to do today. We figured we’d get it done and out of the way.”
Morgan gave Jesse a good frown to show him what he thought of that, but he knew better than to start debating with him now. “So how’s the work going?”
Jesse nodded quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous, and being around women always made him nervous, especially the really pretty ones. “It’s getting there. I’ll have the lot of it cleared out by midweek.” Though he spoke to Morgan, his eyes didn’t leave Misty’s face.
Howard scratched his chin, watching Misty with acute interest. “It’s looking real good.”
Amused by their preoccupation, Morgan nudged Misty slightly forward and said, “This is Honey’s sister, Misty Malone. She’s here for an extended visit and she’ll be helping out around the station. Misty, this is Jesse and Howard.”
Both men did a double take at that announcement, but Morgan ignored their reactions, knowing why they looked so shocked. They’d obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion. He hid his grin and decided to explain things to them later.
Jesse tipped a nonexistent hat and muttered, “Nice to meet you.”
Howard stuck out his hand, realized it was covered with dirt and pulled it back before Misty could accept it. With an apologetic shrug, he explained, “I’ve been digging out the weeds. Messy work, that. Nice to meet you, Miss Malone.”
Misty smiled. “Call me Misty, please. What exactly are you doing back there?”
It was Jesse who answered. “There’s been a ton of weeds growing in the gully out back for as long as the sheriff’s been stationed here. It draws mosquitoes and gnats and it’s just plain ugly. Morgan wants us to clear them out and plant a line of bushes instead. We don’t have the bushes in yet, but we will soon.”
“I love outdoor work.” Misty stepped away from Morgan and headed to the side of the house to check their progress. “I used to work with my father’s gardeners when I was younger. It’s hot work, especially on a day like today. But I always preferred that to being cooped up inside.”
Morgan could just picture her as a little girl, hanging out with the hired help because her daddy ignored her and she had nothing better to do. It made his stomach cramp.
Howard nodded. “Know what you mean. Fresh air is good for you. I used to farm in my younger days. There’s nothing like it.”
She went around the corner of the house, Howard and Jesse trailing her like she was the Pied Piper. She kept chatting and they continued to hang on her every word.
Morgan was left alone with his disgruntled feelings. Odds were, he told himself, Misty had been as endearing as a wide-eyed child as she was now. The gardeners had probably loved having her underfoot. He shook his head. Gardeners, for crying out loud.
She made one simple statement about her youth and he got melancholy. It wasn’t to be borne.
He heard Jesse’s cackling laugh from way out back and frowned. They’d only just met her and she already had them mesmerized. He considered waiting until they came back, then changed his mind. He unlocked the front door, which only he and the deputy used, closed and locked it, then went through the converted house to the back. In what used to be the dining room, a space now housing all his file cabinets, he stared out the large picture window.
He could see Misty standing just outside the line of displaced weeds and dirt, her hands on her rounded hips as she conversed with the men. Her dark shiny hair glinted in the sunlight, and her bare shoulders and thighs appeared sleek. She looked over the still-packaged bushes while the two old codgers looked her over, eyeing the long expanse of her legs. Morgan felt like growling.
He knew he was in a hell of a predicament when two elders made him jealous. What
had happened to his acclaimed control?
He went to the soda machine in the hallway outside his office and fed in quarters. Seconds later he stepped into the yard with four icy cold cans numbing his fingers. Jesse and Howard accepted theirs with relish, popping the tops and guzzling the cola. Though he’d told the old men time and again to bring a cooler with drinks, they never remembered to do it.
Misty was more restrained, using the edge of her shorts to clean the top of the can then opening it cautiously and sipping. It was so hot and humid outside that the little wisps of her hair escaping her topknot had begun to curl around her face.
She squinted against the sun, wrinkling her small nose, and smiled at him. “The bushes will look great once they’re in. It’ll make the yard looked bigger, too, without the tall weeds breaking up the length.”
Morgan nodded, content just to look at her and drink his soda and enjoy the feel of the sunshine.
He loved the old farmhouse—and had since the moment he’d been elected and moved his things into the desk. He forced his gaze away from her and surveyed the back porch. “She’s a grand old lady, isn’t she?”
“She’s beautiful.” Misty, too, looked at the porch with the turned rails and ornate trim. “You don’t see that kind of detail very often any more.”
“It’s solid.” Morgan finished off his cola, then crushed the can in his fist. “This house is partly what inspired me to build my own home. I was forever doing improvements to the station and finally decided I needed my own place to work on. But even with my house almost complete, I still love it here.”
“Somehow, I think it suits you. Especially because you’re in charge.”
“It does,” he agreed, ignoring her teasing tone. “You want to see inside where you’ll be working?”
“Sure.” She turned to the men and smiled. “Howard, Jesse, it was nice meeting you.”
They each nodded, ridiculous smiles on their faces. Morgan could only shake his head in wonder. Was no man immune? As they walked through the back door, he saw her smile and raised a brow in question.
“They’re very sweet.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Uh-huh. You go right on wearing those rose-colored glasses, sweetheart.”
She gasped at him in disapproval. “You’re such a cynic. They’re very nice men who are working hard for you. I’d think you’d appreciate that a little.”
Morgan led her into his office, which had once been the dining room. It had a large white stone fireplace, now filled with lush ferns instead of burning logs. He’d had the arched doorway framed and fitted so he could close the door for privacy. He’d never needed or wanted that privacy more than now.
He propped his shoulders against the mantel. “Jesse was picked up for fighting two weekends ago. He broke two pool sticks and several lights after a man accused him of cheating at a game. Jesse wouldn’t cheat, but he does have a terrible temper.”
Misty stared at him in blank surprise.
“Now Howard, he’s cooler than that. You won’t catch him causing a brawl.”
“You’re dying to tell me, so spit it out.” She mimicked his stance, leaning against the opposite wall.
Grinning, Morgan said, “He slipped into the theater without paying—five times in a row. He loves the movies, but says the prices have gotten too high. Arnold kept kicking him out and Howard kept creeping back in. No one would have known, but during the last movie, he tried stealing a bite of popcorn from the woman sitting next to him.”
“And she complained over that?”
Morgan winked at her. “The woman was Marsha Werner, and he’d recently broken off a relationship with her and was, I imagine, trying to worm his way back into her good graces. She wasn’t impressed, so she raised a ruckus and I finally had to arrest him. But it was Marsha who came and bailed him out, so who knows what’s happening there?”
Misty tried to stifle a smile. “It’s a little hard to imagine him in a relationship.”
“That’s only because you haven’t met Marsha. Things soured between them when she wanted to get married, but they were a good couple, like the best grandma and grandpa you’d ever met.” Morgan watched her smile widen and added, “Marsha’s real fond of the movies, too, but as she continually explains to me in rather loud tones, she’s an upstanding citizen and she pays for her entertainment.”
Misty lost control of her twitching smile and laughed out loud. Morgan watched her, seeing the way the heat and humidity outside had made her shirt stick to her breasts. She’d smell all warm and womanly now if he could just get close enough to her to nuzzle her soft skin.
“So what kind of sentence did each of them get?”
He held her gaze and murmured, “Community work. That’s why they’re fixing the yard. I bought the bushes and they agreed to do the work. In addition, of course, Jesse had to promise to stay out of the pool hall for a month, and Howard had to pay for the movies he’d seen.”
“Ah. They considered that a terrible punishment?”
“Not the yard work, but the other, yeah. With any luck, it’ll make an impression this time. But I hate to see them in any real trouble. They’re both pushing seventy, and even though they get around well enough to get into mischief, they don’t mean any real harm. I think they’re just lonely and a little bored, more than anything else.”
She twisted her mouth in a near grimace, then asked, “When you arrested them…”
“No, I didn’t handcuff them,” he answered gently, able to read her train of thought. It hurt him to see her so hesitant, to know that her own memories ate at her. He’d fix things for her one way or another, he vowed. “I didn’t stick them in back of the Bronco, either. They both rode up front with me. That way, I could give them a stern talking-to during the ride. They hate that.”
Misty smiled at him for a nearly endless moment, then turned up her can of soda and finished it off. She set the can on his desk. “I’m impressed, Morgan.”
“With what?”
“Your compassion. And the fact that you obviously have a soft side, which you hide pretty well, by the way.”
He wasn’t at all sure he wanted her noticing his soft side, not that he had one, anyway. He frowned at the mere thought.
Misty gave a loud sigh. “Now what are you scowling about? I insult you and you laugh, I compliment you and you start glowering at me.”
Morgan didn’t move. She had an impish look about her that intrigued him. “Come closer and I’ll tell you why I’m frowning.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
“Afraid of me, Malone?”
She made a rude sound, refusing to be drawn in by his obvious challenge. “Not likely. You’re as big as an ox and built like a ton of bricks, but you don’t beat up on women.”
He made his own rude sound. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He lowered his voice to a suggestive rumble. “You’re afraid if you get too close, you won’t want to move away again. But this is my office and I don’t do hanky-panky here. At least, not any serious hanky-panky. So you’re safe enough.”
“And what constitutes the serious stuff?”
He looked at her breasts and felt his heartbeat accelerate. “Anything below the waist?”
She swallowed and he could see the thrumming pulse in her throat. “Howard and Jesse are right outside.”
“Not for much longer. I only let them work for a few hours a day, mostly in the morning because the afternoon heat is too much for them.”
“Then why have them doing that job at all?”
She was bound and determined to distract him, so Morgan let her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be wary of him. “Their pride is important to them, and to me. Already they’ve told anyone who’d listen that I’ve given them such a hard, impossible job, then they come here and have a great time futzing around, proving that they can do it. In fact, they complain about the short days I insist on, because Jesse used to be in construction and Howard was a farmer. They
say they’re used to the heat, but—” He realized he was rambling and ground to a halt.
“You’re pretty wonderful sometimes, Sheriff, you know that?”
He unfolded his arms, letting them hang at his sides. In a rough whisper, he said again, “Come here.”
She took one step toward him, then halted. “This is crazy.”
Morgan nodded in agreement. Crazy didn’t even begin to describe the way she made him feel.
She looked undecided and he held his breath, but she turned away. She pretended an interest in the office. Her voice shook when she started talking again. “This is your desk?”
She picked up a framed school picture of Casey and studied it.
“You know it is. My office is the biggest room. The cells are in the basement, though they seldom get used—and yes, I’ll take you on a tour in a bit. The kitchen has been rearranged into a lobby of sorts, and there’s always coffee there for anyone who wants it. The family room faces the kitchen through open doorways across the hall, and that’ll be where you work. There’s a lot of office equipment in there. I’ll have my deputy, Nate Brewer, show you where he keeps things and how to use the file system. The upstairs has been turned into conference rooms for different community events.”
He watched her inch closer to him to look at a plaque hanging on the wall. Not wanting to scare her off now that she was almost within reach, he said, “That’s my mission statement.”
“Mission statement?”
“My intent for holding office as sheriff. The community got to read it prior to the election.” He was thankful she didn’t read the whole thing. His patience was about run out and he just wanted to taste her.
“You had the plaque made?”
“Nope. The advisory board did.” He saw her start to ask and said, “They’re a group of citizens that bring concerns to me. Sort of a community awareness system.”
She leaned closer to the plaque. “It says here that you founded the advisory board during your first term in office.”
He shook his head. “I was the one who suggested a voice in the community, so they’d all feel more involved in decisions. But they’re the ones who organized the board and set up the structure for it. Now they have these big elections to decide who gets to serve in the various advisory board positions.”