"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas. I'm Detective Frank Connelly. This is Sergeant Patrick Doyle. You mustn't blame yourself. If it was Violet Parker who came into your shop you're not to blame. She could sweet-talk a gold miner out of his secret map. What did this woman look like?"
"Long reddish-brown hair, bright green eyes, that's what struck me first thing, her eyes. She was a beautiful woman, and so well-spoken. She was dressed in decent clothes but they were badly wrinkled. A white blouse and a grey skirt."
"That's her," Frank said solemnly. "I assume she left in the outfit she bought."
"She did."
"Please describe it to me, then tell me everything that happened."
"It was a brown silk blouse and a dark brown skirt, very expensive."
"Excuse me, Mrs. Thomas," Connelly said, moving from behind his desk. "Sergeant, step outside with me for a moment."
As Frank strode out the door Patrick followed, then closed it behind them.
"I wish I'd known about her hair color," Patrick muttered. "I thought it was dark brown."
"I thought it was too until I got hold of her recently. Dammit, I should have told you. Anyway, find the closest stagecoach depot to this woman's shop, and make sure you get the truth when you question the clerk. Violet's no dummy. She would have told him some cock-and-bull story to keep him quiet."
"I'm on my way," Patrick replied solemnly, "and don't you worry, I'll find out whatever he knows."
"Mrs. Thomas, I'm very sorry you were taken in by Violet Parker," Frank said, walking back into his office, "but you've done a great service reporting this. We'll have a much better chance of finding her from the description you just provided."
"I was embarrassed, but my husband insisted."
"He was right, and if you have any trouble with your employer tell him to come and see me. Miss Parker has what the Irish call, the gift of the gab. Now tell me exactly what happened. I'll take a report, and when I catch her you'll have the satisfaction of seeing her punished."
"Do you think you will? Catch her I mean."
"Yes, Mrs. Thomas, I am a very determined man."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Having unpacked, changed her clothes and tidied herself up, Violet stared at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Rose Hamilton was a pretty name and it suited her, but she found herself wishing the captivating shirtless sheriff could call her Violet. Checking her wristwatch, an expensive gift given to her by a dear man who had tragically passed away, she saw it was almost four-o'clock. There was no fine hotel to enjoy high tea and conveniently forget to pay the bill, but she decided to check out the restaurant the sheriff had mentioned. Hiding what little money she had in various places, she took what she thought she'd need, including the rent for Ruby, placed it in her black draw string handbag and left the room. As she started down the stairs she could hear Ruby humming. Following the pleasant sound she found her dusting in the parlor, a cozy room with a couch and armchairs, and an impressive fireplace.
"Isn't this lovely," she remarked as she walked in. "I'm sure this is most welcome on cold winter nights."
"Hello, Rose, yes it is."
"I want to pay for five nights," Violet declared, retrieving two dollars from her bag and handing it to her, "though I'm sure I'll be here longer."
"That's fine. Thank you. You do look smart."
"I gave my best outfits away, all except for one. I couldn't bear the thought of traveling with a trunk, and with my husband passing away I didn't want to keep them anyway."
"What a shame he died so young. Forgive me, I didn't mean to assume…"
"It was tragic, but it isn't something I like to talk about."
"Of course it isn't. Where are you off to?"
"I thought I'd take a wander down Main Street."
"You'll find the folks here very pleasant. Have a nice time."
"Thank you. I'm sure I will."
Leaving the parlor, Violet walked down the hall and out the front door. The air was mild, and the sun was gentle and low in the sky. She let out a happy sigh. Her troubles in San Francisco were behind her, and she was reinventing herself in a sweet little town that was run by a handsome sheriff, but the image of Detective Connelly unexpectedly floated through her mind. She shivered. Tall and lanky with a handlebar mustache, he gave her the willies. She'd miss her friends, but she was very pleased to be far away from the city, and most especially from him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Cooper whittled. He did his best thinking when he whittled. Mostly he carved animals and gave them to the town's children as a reward for being well behaved. Sitting in his chair on the porch of his office, as he moved his knife over the wood he found a cat taking shape. He paused. He couldn't remember ever whittling a cat. Usually it was a dog, a horse or a cow, never a cat, but the branch knew what it wanted to be and there was no arguing with it.
Rose was heavy on his mind. She was intriguing, and he couldn't shake the feeling she wasn't quite who she appeared to be. Her clothes and her manner suggested money, but she didn't wear gloves. It was true most of the women in Brownsville didn't either, but Rose was from San Francisco. If she was from money, or married to a wealthy man, gloves would be a habit. He was also curious about her lack of luggage. She had arrived to start a new life, but all she had was a single bag.
"Something's not right," he muttered as the cat's face began to take shape. "She either left in a hurry, or she didn't want people knowin' she was leavin' for good. It has to be one or the other."
"Good afternoon, Sheriff."
It was her voice, and raising his eyes he saw a vision walking towards him. She was dressed in a pale blue dress, and he immediately liked it better than the brown blouse and skirt she'd been wearing when she'd arrived. It was fresher, prettier, more like her.
"Afternoon, Mrs. Hamilton."
"Please call me Rose."
"I didn't want to presume. Are you settlin' in?"
"I am. It's a lovely room and Ruby is very kind."
"You here to collect on that cup of coffee?"
"Or we could have it at that restaurant. I poked my head in. It looked inviting."
"Best I stay in my office," he said, rising to his feet. "Folks will know where to find me if I'm needed."
Ushering her inside, he closed the door behind them, and placed his small branch and knife on his desk.
"I made this just a little bit ago," he said, moving across to a small stove in the corner. "I think you'll like it. I have a special way of brewin'. I even have china cups."
"I'm impressed. How did that happen?"
"I often have folks in for coffee, and one of the ladies decided I should have somethin' decent to serve it in. Here you go. Have a seat."
"Thank you, Sheriff," she said, settling into the chair in front of his desk.
To her surprise he walked directly in front of her and perched on the edge. His bare chest and bulging biceps were alarmingly close, and they weren't just making it difficult to think clearly. She found herself imagining how dreamy it would be to rest against his muscled body, and have his arms wrapped around her.
"I reckon you'll be doin' some shoppin'," he began, breaking into her salacious thoughts.
"What makes you say that?"
"You arrived with only one bag. Surely you'll be needin' some more clothes and shoes and what not."
"I have a special way of packing," she said, tilting her head to the side and holding his gaze, "and that bag may look small, but it holds a great deal more than you might think."
"Is that right?"
"It is, Sheriff."
"Does that mean you've had to pack often? Did you and your husband travel?"
"We did, and he didn't like me bringing more than one suitcase. I'm used to traveling without a lot of baggage."
"Huh. What line of business was he in?"
"Sheriff," she said, rising to her feet and standing eye to eye, "why are you asking me all these questions?"
; "I'm curious. It's not often an attractive woman arrives in Brownsville by herself, dressed nice and with nothin' much arrivin' with her. You're a mystery, Rose."
"A good mystery I hope."
Her green eyes were unwavering, and the floral fragrance of her perfume was tickling his nostrils. The unfamiliar sensation was beginning to crawl through his body, and it didn't help that she was tantalizingly close.
"You tell me," he said softly. "I gotta say, it's not normal for a woman to have so little, especially if she's fixin' to start a new life."
"Sheriff," she began slowly, a slight frown creasing her brow, "is it true you spanked a saloon girl for stealing?"
The question had come out of the blue. He was taken aback, but only for a moment.
"Sure is."
"Is that something you do often?"
"As it's needed."
"I can't imagine you'd ever do that to me. That would be ungentlemanly. You wouldn't, would you?"
An almost indiscernible curl at the edges of his lips was her only warning, but she caught it too late. He suddenly grabbed her wrist, pulled her forward, landed two quick swats, and just as abruptly released her.
"SHERIFF! I cannot believe you did that!" she exclaimed indignantly, hating the hot red flush crossing her face.
"I hear that a lot!"
"But—you had no right!"
"Ever hear about an ounce of prevention?"
"My goodness!"
"I expect that answered your question, but just so we're clear, do somethin' wrong I give a warnin'. If it happens again, it's over my knee for a good wallopin', third time the dress comes up. Fourth, the drawers come down. That's only happened once, and I know it was cos the woman wanted to call my bluff. Kinda reminds me of you. She had real mischief in her as well."
She was looking at him with an odd expression, and though her face was flushed and she looked flustered, he sensed she was very pleased with herself.
Then it hit him!
She'd deftly changed the subject. She'd moved the conversation away from her and her husband.
"Mrs. Hamilton—"
"Rose!" she said vehemently. "Please, Sheriff, call me Rose."
"Rose, here's your first warnin'."
"For what?"
"Distractin' me. You dared me to spank you in a very connivin' way so I'd stop askin' questions. Next time you try somethin' like that I'll bend you over my leg. If you don't wanna answer that's okay, but you tell me so."
"Fine," she muttered, totally unnerved that he'd seen right through her.
"I'd sure like to know why you left San Francisco and brought just that one bag."
"Sheriff, you're the law in this town and I respect that, but I just met you, and I'm not in the habit of telling a stranger all about myself. Thank you for the coffee," she finished briskly, and placing the cup on his desk she shot him a look, then turned and walked towards the door.
"You'll find Al's Mercantile will have most of what you need."
"Excuse me?" she said, looking over her shoulder.
"Al's Mercantile. He has women's things."
"I'll bear that in mind. Good day, Sheriff."
"Rose, wait! There are two things I need to say before you go."
"Very well," she replied, pivoting on her toes.
"I'm not askin' questions cos I'm bein' nosy, I'm askin' cos it's my job. I need to know who's movin' into my town, and like I said, you're a mystery."
"What's the second thing?"
"I'd like to get to know you, and not just cos I'm the sheriff."
She stared at him for a moment, then moved slowly back towards him.
"If you want to get to know me," she murmured, "I'll need to call you Cooper."
Her green eyes were mesmerizing, the aroma of her seductive perfume was wafting around him, and he suddenly felt a desperate need to wrap his fingers into her hair, hold it tightly in his fist, and kiss her for endless minutes.
"May I call you Cooper?"
Her voice was like a whispering wind, her face was perilously close to his, her hand was touching his arm…
"SHERIFF! SHERIFF!"
Jeb's panicked cry rang sharply through the air.
The spell had been broken.
Rose stepped back, and Cooper slid off his desk.
"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, and hurrying across the room he darted through the door that led to the cells.
CHAPTER THREE
The moment Cooper was out of sight Violet moved swiftly from his office and into the street. She was breathless. She'd slipped into her flirtatious routine to gain control of the situation, but she'd already been weak at the knees, and when Cooper had fixed her with his dark brown eyes she'd needed to run away from the hot desire flaming through her body.
Such things did not happen to her!
She was the one in control. She was the one who made a man's head reel, not the other way around.
Al's Mercantile was close by, and not wanting Cooper to see her when he came out of his office, she hurried down the street and entered the store.
"Can I help you?"
She quickly scrutinized the man behind the counter. He was older, had very little hair, a large belly and a wide smile. She'd have no trouble winning him over.
"I haven't seen you here before," he continued. "You must be new in town. I'm Alan Whitely, but folks just call me Al."
"Lovely to meet you," Violet said warmly. "My name is Rose Hamilton. I just arrived and I'm staying at Mrs. Elwood's boarding house."
"Are you stickin' around a while?"
"I'm not sure yet," she said honestly, wondering how long she'd be able to tolerate being around the half-naked sheriff without losing her mind. "I'll just have to see what happens. In the meantime there are a few things I need."
"Take your time. The store isn't goin' anywhere."
"Aren't you funny," she giggled. "Humor is so attractive in a man."
"And you are one charmin' young lady."
She was starting to feel better. She was in control again. Al Whitley was in the palm of her hand.
"You're too kind. I hate to ask, but I have to be careful with my pennies. Do you have any goods on sale?"
"Why don't you pick out what you need and I'll give you a discount. Just my way of welcomin' you to Brownsville, but don't tell anyone," he added with a wink.
"Mr. Whitley. You're so generous. Thank you."
"Al, please call me Al, and it's my pleasure."
To her great relief her heart had stopped its pounding and her knees were no longer shaky. She hadn't brought any toiletries with her. Not only were bottles heavy, she'd needed the room in her bag for clothing, and feeling like herself again she wandered through the store selecting what she needed.
"I think that's everything," she declared, carrying three small bottles up to the counter.
"That's not very much," Al remarked. "I thought young women nowadays liked all kinds of lotions and potions. You don't need them though. You're lovely just as you are."
"Al, you're embarrassing me."
"Just speakin' the truth. Are you sure that's all you need?"
"For the moment, and I wouldn't want to take advantage of your generosity."
"Don't you worry your pretty head about that. Let's see what we've got here," he said, discounting the items one at a time and placing them in a bag. "There you are, Rose."
"Thank you again for being so kind," she purred, handing him the ninety-five cents he'd charged her. "I really am very grateful."
"Please come back soon."
"Thank you, Al. I most certainly will."
Walking slowly to the door, she peered out the window to see if Cooper was in sight. With no sign of him she stepped outside, and at a fast clip she started down the street towards the boarding house, but she was plagued with a burning question. Why was he having such a profound affect? Was it simply because he was shirtless?
"I'm just exhausted from my long journey," she mumbled, turni
ng the corner at the end of the block. "It's not him, it's because I'm so tired and hungry."
Opening the gate she ambled wearily up the path to the front door. Happy to be there and looking forward to a nap she stepped inside, but as she neared the staircase, Cooper suddenly appeared from the parlor.
"There you are," he declared, striding towards her. "Been shoppin'?"
"Uh, yes. I didn't bring any, uh, bottles with me," she replied, feeling completely flustered. "You know, things I need. Why, uh, why are you here?"
"We didn't have a chance to finish our conversation."
"Oh, good, you're back," Ruby said, bustling down the hall from the kitchen. "I was just making the sheriff some coffee. He'll be joining us for supper tonight. We want to officially welcome you to Brownsville."
"Really? That's so thoughtful."
"Are you all right, dear? You look rather pale."
"I think I'm a bit tired from my trip, and I must admit I'm frightfully hungry."
"Perhaps you could put your things away, then come back down and chat with the sheriff in the parlor. I'll bring you a snack to tide you over."
The last thing Violet wanted was to be alone with the sheriff again. Just standing in front of him was making her pulse race, but she was ravenous.
"That sounds like a real good suggestion, Mrs. Elwood," Cooper said warmly. "I think that's just what she needs. Food and then some rest."
"You make yourself comfortable, Sheriff, and I'll bring you that coffee and a slice of cake."
"Can't say no to an offer like that! I'll see you in there, Rose."
"Yes, all right. I'll only be a minute," she replied, unable to resist the temptation of something to eat. "Thank you, Ruby. I'm very grateful."
Feeling shaky she gripped the bannister as she started up the stairs. It didn't help that she could feel the sheriff's eyes on her. Glad to reach the landing she turned down the hall, and when she entered her room she moved swiftly to the bed and flopped herself down.
"I'm just tired," she muttered. "I'm tired and I'm hungry. That's all there is to it."
SHERIFF: His Town. His Laws. His Justice. Page 3