The Sheriff's Bride_Country Brides & Cowboy Boots

by Kimberly Krey

  “I like that about you.”

  Jessie lifted a brow. “That I wish I could beat up random men?”

  He shook his head. “Not random. You like to protect people, just in your own way.”

  Her face turned thoughtful. “Hmm. You know, one thing I could do is let Sheila help run the inn for me.”

  Trent rubbed a hand over her arm as another strong wind picked up. “Could you use the help there?”

  “Well, Char’s going to retire soon. In fact, she’s practically given her notice already. She’s just hanging on until I find a replacement. I guess they could stay in the place downstairs …” she mumbled. “Plus if I ever wanted to move out or get married, Sheila could move into the suite that I’m in and Nate could live in his own quarters downstairs. He turns nineteen soon. Can you believe that?”

  Somewhere in Jessie’s words there was a declaration. She’d said the word married, which meant she was entertaining the idea. Jessie Jean Phillips, who, according to Connie, would never give a guy a chance, was changing her tune. Triumph swelled within him.

  Trent looked over one shoulder and then the next. Not a passerby in sight. “Come here,” he whispered under his breath. White siding covered the outside of the building. With a series of steady steps, Trent guided Jessie against the outer wall, memories of their kiss by the tree urging him on. He nudged in closer, his heart thudding against his ribs as she blushed.

  “What are we doing?” Jessie asked playfully. Her hands looped around his neck, her silky fingers slipping up the back of his head as she held his gaze.

  “This,” he mumbled, coming in for a slow, gentle kiss. Something was happening between them. Something that went beyond bodies and cravings and lust. It pulled at deep and unknown parts of his soul. And he knew—Trent knew that he loved her. And heaven help him, Jessie’s return of that love was just as evident, even if it was unspoken. This was why people committed their lives to one person. This was why they sacrificed and gave and did without. This was why Benny whistled while striding the halls at work.

  “Jessie Jean,” he murmured against her lips, her kiss like a lifeline. Years ago, Trent had been warned not to take kissing lightly, that he could make love with a kiss. He’d never believed it until now.

  It might be too soon to voice his love for Jessie, but he could show it all the same. He wanted to take care of her. Protect her. Love her. All those promises went through his mind as he deepened the kiss. An inner part of him recognized that it was crazy, but he couldn’t get himself to care. If Jessie could be open to things like love and marriage, he’d be danged before he let someone love her and leave her the way Sheila’s man had done. Or hurt her like the men she’d witnessed in her youth.

  No, if things between him and Jessie continued, he’d be the one to marry her. And he’d treat her right until his dying day.

  While tenderly urging her into a deeper, more meaningful exchange, the words ran through his mind. I love you, Jessie. I really do. If he’d been raised differently, he might just find a place to take things to another level right then and there. As it was, Trent knew better than to give it a second thought.

  He groaned as he pulled away, and Jessie laughed against his mouth. “We better get to what we came for,” she said.

  “You’re right,” he agreed, and then kissed her again. Pulling away a second time proved more difficult than he might have guessed. Jessie placed her hands on his chest while a girlish giggle escaped her lips.

  “To be continued,” she promised, and took hold of his hand.

  Trent liked the sound of that. He couldn’t help thinking about it as they picked out kitchen mats and hallway runners, puffy pillows and tiny blankets Jessie called throws. If he’d labeled their relationship dangerous before, it was full-on flammable now. And there was no stopping it.

  The older women who helped them check out assumed the two were either getting married or moving in together in the least of it. Trent said nothing to correct her. And Jessie, she even played along, nodding and grinning and giving Trent a big kiss on the cheek. They acted just like a couple in love at lunch, the movies, and on the way home as well.

  With the evening sun streaming in through the windshield, Jessie took hold of his hand and sighed. “Looks like the storm blew past,” she said, looking out the window. They were high on a hilltop looking over Cobble Creek and all its green-leafed glory. “This is a gorgeous view.”

  Trent glanced over at Jessie. “Yes,” he said, “it is.” He wondered then if he could call this day the happiest of his life so far. Perhaps. He couldn’t think of one better. Not since before the accident, anyway.

  Accident.

  An unpleasant word to most people; an atomic bomb to Trent.

  He tried desperately to shake off thoughts of that time in his life, but in the moments that followed, a thick and heavy mud seeped into his mind. Jessie had once joked about him being the Grim Reaper, but he could swear something just as deadly was sinking into every part of him. You can never be truly happy, Trent. You know that.

  He did know that.

  Since the accident, Trent’s life had become a bed of soil. And planted deep within were the cruelest weeds nature could make. Noxious weeds with tangled briars and sharp thorns. He’d done his best to pluck them out, toss them aside, and plant new things. Fruits, flowers, plants that would bloom and lighten his life. But no matter what he did, even if he momentarily forgot, Trent was still planted in a bed of thorns.

  Even now the knotted mass was tearing at his insides. He’d given his love to Jessie in those moments outside the warehouse. Received hers in return. What was he supposed to do now, walk away?

  With one hand on the wheel, the other holding hers, Trent glanced over in time to see Jessie—warm, kind, and beautiful—lift his hand and place a fervent kiss to his palm. The bashful smile she gave him caused more pain than the thorns.

  How could he have gotten so carried away?

  Had he really believed he could actually have what Benny had? No, that guy had been planted in an entirely different field.

  “I can’t wait to see how everything looks,” Jessie said as they neared the cabin home. The surrounding trees—whose branches usually offered the comfort of a soft blanket—were now dark and dreadful as he weaved through them. Whispering what had to be done. Trent talked his way around the idea, desperate to get out of the mess he’d made.

  His mind was so swamped that he didn’t notice the rental car in his driveway until he was pulling alongside it. A few different possibilities rolled through his mind as he considered who it might be. The real estate agent? Someone from the county office? But then he spotted them, an older couple circling the covered porch toward the side of the house.

  “My parents?” he blurted.

  Chapter 19

  Jessie hadn’t planned on meeting Trent’s parents that night. In fact, all she and Trent had planned on was snuggling up to a fondue pot. Assorted breads and meats, cheeses, and chocolate. Trent had never tried fondue before, and Jessie was looking forward to showing him how it was done.

  Still, the surprise visit was a welcome one. As much as she wanted alone time with Trent, she was dying to know more about him.

  They’d started off with a BBQ on the back patio, courtesy of the items Patricia and Garret—Trent’s parents—picked up at the market. During dinner, Jessie answered several questions about the day-to-day duties of running a bed and breakfast. She asked her fair share of questions, too. Small talk, mainly.

  But as twilight approached, the group made for the fire pit in the woods behind Trent’s home. There, nestled among the tall pines and crackling flames, they got down to the good stuff: confessions.

  “How about embarrassing moments?” boomed Garret. The man resembled Trent with his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw. He was handsome, too, with a full head of graying hair and brows that were as dark as coal. “Who wants to go first on that one?”

  “I’ve got a million of those,” T
rent grumbled.

  “The time you got spicy mustard on that girl’s dress at the ballgame?” his father asked.

  “No,” Patricia said, “he was thinking about the time he wet himself in preschool and blamed Tasha Cramer.”

  Jessie laughed out loud. “How do you blame someone else for wetting your own pants?”

  Trent’s mom blocked the side of her mouth with one hand. “He claimed she climbed onto his lap and let it loose.”

  “Did she?” Jessie asked with a nudge.

  Trent held her gaze for a blink, then shook his head. “No. But c’mon, I was four years old. I just wanted my mom to come get me. I hated it there.”

  “Did you hear that, everyone?” Patricia asked. “I might have put him to bed without dinner a few times, but Trent just admitted that he needed his mama.”

  “Aw …” Jessie said. “How sweet.”

  Patricia tilted her head, giving Trent a pointed look. “Yeah. Wish he still needed me.”

  Jessie glanced over in time to see him give Patricia a smile.

  “I do,” he said. “I’ll never stop needing you. Even if you did send us to bed without dinner,” Trent said. “We probably deserved it.”

  Jessie’s laughter fell short as she realized what he’d just said—us. And we. She knew he’d alluded to having a sibling. Why had he said it was only him? It was hard to hold the thought, seeing that Patricia had hopped off her seat and made her way to Trent.

  “Oh, my sweet, sweet boy!” She grabbed his face and placed kisses on each of his cheeks.

  “Alright, alright,” Trent mumbled. “Now you’re just embarrassing me.”

  Patricia shot Jessie a wink. “What do you mean, embarrass?”

  “Oh, you know,” Trent said with a laugh. “That innocent game only works with Dad.”

  “She is innocent,” Garrett piped in with a crooked smile. “As far as I’m concerned, my woman could do no wrong. And if she happens to embarrass Trent in front of his lovely new sweetheart, well, that’s just fine by me.”

  More laughter floated through the air.

  “That’s what I thought,” Trent said.

  Jessie sighed. Was this what it was like? Being part of a family?

  Never once had Jessie even seen her father. And while living with her mom, her mother had been too focused on other men to give Jessie the time of day. But to have two parents doting over her … She couldn’t imagine how wonderful it must feel. She was happy for him. Happy that Trent had such a loving family.

  Her face was already warm from the fire, but when Garrett called Jessie Trent’s new sweetheart, she felt her cheeks warming from the inside too. Is that what she was? Her mind drifted back to the kiss outside the furniture warehouse, the passion they had exchanged. Yes. In fact, she’d been almost certain that Trent was about to tell her he loved her. Funny thing was, she’d been prepared to return the sentiment. Which was as terrifying as it was terrific.

  She hadn’t been in this situation before. Was it something they should talk about? Should she bring it up when they were alone? So, Trent, what exactly should we call this? Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Dating exclusively? All of it sounded lame.

  “Let’s shift gears a bit,” Garrett said, bringing Jessie back to the present. “Name one of the stupidest things you did as a child. I’m talking ten and under. Something that you look back on and say, ‘What in the name of all things holy was I thinking?’”

  Trent shifted in the bench beside her.

  “I’ll start,” Patricia said, lifting her arm in the air. “Okay …” She stopped there and burst into laughter. “It’s just so stupid…”

  Jessie glanced at Trent, figuring he’d meet her gaze with a smile, surprised when he didn’t. In fact, he looked … upset. Jaw clenched. Eyes set in a cold glare at the ground. The observation made her aware that his body language had changed, too. His shoulders were tense. One leg was bouncing like the steady buildup of an explosion.

  The shift was so sudden that she couldn’t even guess what had provoked it. But something told her that it was bad. It brought back her suspicion in a blink—he was hiding something.

  Her insides turned cold and sharp. Like it would hurt to move.

  Her head pulsed with a nauseating blend of fear and dread.

  Stop it, Jessie. You’re freaking out over nothing. Things had been perfect just moments ago. She risked another glance at him. The glowing flames from the fire offered plenty of light, illuminating his body and face, but something dark hid beneath the blue in his eyes.

  The pulsing in her head kicked up as he looked away. Something was definitely wrong. Something she needed to get to the bottom of. But the sad truth was—when she considered everything she stood to lose—Jessie didn’t want to know what it was.

  Just when Trent thought his parents understood the torment he’d suffered, they put a magnifier over the one thing he wanted to forget. The one thing he didn’t want to tell Jessie about.

  What on earth was his father thinking? Name one of the stupidest things you did as a child? No one had done anything more stupid than Trent, and his parents knew it well.

  “What about you, Jessie?” Dad asked, continuing the game like a clueless fool. “Can you remember one?”

  Jessie flashed what looked like a forced smile, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “One?” She glanced at Trent before turning her gaze back toward his parents. “I’ve got dozens. Umm, let’s see, there’s the time I put Charlotte’s cat in the washing machine. Luckily my Grandma heard the thing scratching and meowing before I could start it up. I made stripes on the couch with my new cherry Chap Stick once, and I tried to freshen all of the rooms at the inn with baby powder.”

  The group broke into laughter, though Jessie’s—like Trent’s smile—was strained.

  “That’s how it’s done,” Garrett breathed. “Those are classic. Well, it’s not nice to ask someone to do something you haven’t done yourself.” He looked over at Trent. “So here’s a good one. My folks got a brand new cabinet top, laminate—it was all the rage …”

  Trent could barely keep quiet for his father’s tale. He would be next on the list, after all, and he could almost hear himself saying it aloud. Or better yet, telling his parents to do the honors. ‘Great game, Dad. How about you and Mom tell Jessie about the stupidest thing I did in my youth. Tell her how it ruined my life and your lives, too. What? You’d rather not? C’mon, it’ll be fun. We’ll all throw our heads back and laugh and…’ “It’s getting late,” he blurted, cutting off a new round of laughter.

  Sounds from the crackling fire took its place.

  “What was that, son?”

  “It’s getting late to be making this kind of noise,” Trent hissed. “I have neighbors, you know?” His adrenaline kicked in, urged him to come to his feet and pace by the fire. Forward, back, and then forward once more. He stopped and folded his arms over his angry, pounding heart. The action put space between him and Jessie, which wasn’t a bad thing in the moment. Right now he wanted space from all of them.

  His mom was the first to speak up. “It is getting pretty late.”

  “Yep.” He rocked back on his heels and turned toward his dad. “I’ll put the fire out if you’ll get Mom and Jessie back to the house.” He strode over to the utility shed for a flashlight. The last thing he needed was for one of them to trip on a twig and hurt themselves. One more stupid thing he could add to his list.

  Jessie’s eyes could probably drill holes in him as he moved. No, she was probably more confused than anything. But that didn’t mean Trent had it in him to explain. He’d danced around the topic too many times to just spit it out on the fly.

  “Here,” he said, walking to his dad and handing the flashlight to him. “Use this to get back. I’ll meet you there in a bit.” He made his way back to the shed where a stack of massive logs caught his eye. Boy, would he like to take an axe to those about now. He needed to let off steam, and he didn’t want to aim it at the pe
ople he loved, no matter how angry he was.

  He reached into the shed and pulled out a shovel. In seconds Trent had the spearhead tip in the dirt. He paused and shot his dad a look.

  Garrett came to his feet and cleared his throat. “Shall we, ladies?” He turned to Patricia, took her hand as she stood, then walked around to where Jessie sat.

  Trent had expected her to look confused, but the expression on her face held so much more. She’d never looked at him like this before. Not even with all of her fury over the flyer incident.

  “You ready, Jessie?” Garrett asked, extending a hand.

  Trent put his head down, wondering if his dad would drive Jessie home for him. No, you coward. Be a man. Do it yourself. And then tell her you’re too messed up to be in a relationship. That you’re sorry for leading her on. His heart winced at the mere thought.

  “Go ahead without me,” Jessie said in that determined tone of hers. “I think I’ll stay behind.”

  Good heavens! When would he catch a break? He couldn’t do this now. He needed a minute to get his thoughts in order. There was no telling which were valid or decent. Justified or foolish. Right, or so very wrong.

  He gulped as the flashlight’s glow disappeared into the brush. “You should have gone with them.” He hoisted a shovelful of dirt over the brick surround, then dumped it onto the flames. And he did it again and again and … The metaphor did not escape him—it was a symbol of what was happening between him and Jessie. Only hours ago he was speaking her name through passionate kisses—the heat of ten fires roaring between them. And now he was snuffing out the flames.

  “What’s going on, Trent?”

  He pushed the shovel back into the dirt with a grunt, and left it standing beside the muted, waning smoke. “C’mon. We can talk about it later.” He strode past her toward the trail, hoping she would follow. Swoosh. Swoosh. Crunch.

  But of course she didn’t follow him. In fact, he hadn’t heard her even move a muscle. He stopped, turned the opposite direction, and walked back to the clearing. Crunch. Swoosh. Crack. He stared blindly toward the bench she’d been sitting in. “Jessie?”