The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker

by Carrie Nichols

  Sasha went into the house, intent on getting rid of whoever was at the door so she could continue searching for Henry. The few times he’d gotten out in New York, he hadn’t strayed far, and she could only hope that was the case now. But then again, Dannemora didn’t have cat-eating alligators, and the coyotes and foxes hunted only after dark. Sasha groaned. Great. More to worry about, but surely they’d find him before sundown.

  Flinging the front door open, she came face-to-face with Remy in full uniform.

  “Ma’am.” Remy nodded at Sasha, his face impassive as if this were a routine callout. “We received a report of a missing cat.”

  “How— Evie.” She sighed and glanced over Remy’s shoulder to two teenage boys milling around an SUV with sheriff’s department markings. Heat rose in Sasha’s cheeks. They might be young boys, but she could hear the gossip spreading already. “Who are they?”

  Remy didn’t even glance at the youths. “They’re doing community service.”

  He removed a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “Where was Henry last seen?”

  “You’re not really going to do this, are you?” Sasha shook her head, glancing at the boys who were grinning from ear to ear. Oh yeah, this would be all over town. The regulars at the Curl Up and Dye salon on Main would see to that.

  He poised his pen above the small pad clutched in his fist. “Do you know approximately what time you last saw Henry?”

  Sasha huffed out her breath, unsure if he was pulling her leg or putting on a show for the boys. Of all the… “Oh for heaven’s sake, this isn’t a joke.”

  “Ma’am, we take all calls to the department seriously,” Remy said in what she imagined was his pseudo-sympathetic law enforcement voice.

  Good Lord, he was serious. She’d be forever branded as “Rose Creek’s eccentric cat lady.” “I’m sure you do, but I—”

  He leaned forward until his face was inches from hers, his breath warm on her face, his dark-eyed gaze searching hers. “You want him back, don’t you?”

  Her heart twisted with a painful sweetness. Convinced he cared as much about finding Henry as she did, she nodded. She had to keep reminding herself of what he’d said in the car. He hadn’t come right out and said he didn’t believe in love, but that’s what it amounted to.

  “We’ll find him, cher,” Remy was saying.

  She took a deep breath, grateful for his reassuring presence. Remy might not believe in love, but she did, and she’d fallen head over heels. “The door to the sun room in back was open, so he’s…he’s out in the back somewhere.”

  His gaze never leaving her face, he waved his arm toward the back of the house, evidently directing the two teens to begin the search. Not wanting him to guess her secret—that she’d fallen in love—she did her best to keep her expression neutral.

  The boys hustled around to the back of the house, and Sasha frowned. “I’m not sure this will work. They might scare him.”

  “Actually they’re here to scare away the alligators while you look for him.”

  She tried to swallow the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that…I mean, I did—think about alligators—just not scaring them away.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I came.” He put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “We’ll get him back.”

  His arm still around her shoulder, he guided her back into the house and shut the door behind them. It would be so easy to lean on him, lean on his strength, but that would be a mistake. Just as loving him was. One of the biggest mistakes in her life.

  Evie scrambled toward them, throwing her arms around Remy’s legs and sobbing. “I lost Henry. It’s all my fault. Miz Honeycutt said it wasn’t but it is. I just know it is.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you called, ´tite ange.” He dropped his arm and patted Evie’s head. “We’ll find him. But if you keep crying like this, he may not want to come out of the bushes.”

  Evie drew in an unsteady breath. “I’ll try not to cry. I promise. Cuz I want Henry to come home.”

  “We all do,” Remy told her.

  “Who are they?” Evie pointed to the boys patrolling the perimeter of the yard.

  “Reinforcements,” Remy said in mock-serious tone and winked at Sasha.

  Sasha rolled her eyes. She wanted to know more about the boys, too, but first she needed to find her missing cat. And take control of her traitorous heart. She didn’t leave everything familiar behind to come all this way to get her heart shredded by someone who didn’t believe in love.

  They walked around the yard with Evie shaking the treat bag.

  “Sheriff?” one of the boys called in a loud whisper and motioned with his hand to a clump of bushes.

  Remy acknowledged him and motioned Sasha and Evie over. Evie shook the packet of cat treats and, sure enough, Henry came trotting out of the bushes, tail held high, seemingly unrepentant over the turmoil surrounding his adventure.

  Sasha scooped up the cat and showered him with love, then scolded him for scaring Evie.

  “Let me see, let me see,” Evie said and hopped around.

  Sasha knelt down so Evie could pet him. “I’m not mad at you, Henry,” Evie said as she patted his head.

  “Why don’t we all go back in the house?” Sasha suggested. “We made some chocolate chip cookies. They should be cool enough to eat by now.”

  “Can I take Henry into the house? I won’t let him get away again. I promise.”

  Sasha nodded and handed the cat to Evie.

  “Go inside now, Evie,” Remy instructed. Once she was out of earshot, he turned to Sasha. “These boys are doing community service, and you’re wanting to feed them milk and cookies?”

  “They’re not exactly hardened criminals.” She glanced at the two teens and smiled.

  “You’re just grateful for their help.” He leaned closer. “Don’t forget I brought them, cher.”

  “How could I forget you, Sheriff?” She patted his chest and glanced over his shoulder. “What are they in for?”

  Remy cleared his throat. “They’re not exactly incarcerated or anything.” He turned to the teens. “You boys wait for me in the sun-room.”

  They nodded and followed Evie inside.

  Sasha watched them go inside and carefully shut the door. “They look harmless, and they did help find Henry. I’m sure a few chocolate chip cookies won’t send them down an unredeemable path of crime. How many hours of service have they been sentenced to?”

  Remy ran a finger under his collar. “Well…uh, it didn’t get that far. I caught them smoking weed in the cemetery over on Elm Street last night, brought them home to their parents, and told them to report to me this morning.”

  Sasha touched his arm. “Oh, that’s so—”

  He shook his head and gave her a warning look. “It you’re going to use the word sweet or anything even close to that, stop right now, Sasha, or I swear…”

  She glanced at the boys and Evie, who appeared to be feeding Henry the bag of treats. She gave the big sexy sheriff a special smile. “So you do use those powers for good.”

  “Oh, it will be good, I gar-un-tee it.” He moved his eyebrows up and down.

  Sasha rolled her eyes at him, but a delicious tingle ran through her, as it did whenever he put on his Cajun patois, exaggerated though it was.

  To keep from throwing herself at him and demanding he prove his gar-un-tee, she marched into the house and went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a plate.

  “I’ll bet you boys would like some homemade cookies for all your hard work finding Henry.” She piled cookies on the plate.

  Their hopeful gaze went from the plate to Remy.

  He rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Don’t think this is the end of your punishment. I’m sure I can find some more things for you boys to do today.”

  “Yes, sir.” They both responded and helped themselves to cookies.

  Evie finally left Henry’s side and came over. “Can…er, may I hav
e some, too?”

  “Of course you may. You helped me bake them.”

  Evie threw her arms around Sasha’s waist. “I promise I won’t let Henry get out again.”

  Her heart overflowing with love for the precious little girl, Sasha hugged her back. “I’m sure you won’t.”

  “Good thing I called you, Papá. I knew you’d find Henry.” Evie looked up at her dad.

  “Actually, Chip and Dale found him,” he said and rubbed a hand over his mouth.

  One of the boys blushed. “Uh…it’s Joey, sir, not Chip.”

  His friend coughed into his hand, and Joey shot him a look that promised retribution.

  Remy snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You did mention that.”

  Sasha hid her grin. Remy was good with the boys. And just like that he captured another piece of her heart.

  “My bad,” Remy added but didn’t look contrite.

  Evie turned her rapt attention to the boys. “Are they helping you do sheriff stuff today?”

  Both boys shuffled their feet and glanced away, grinning a little.

  “Yeah, they’re helping me today.” He ruffled Evie’s hair. “Just like you’re helping Miss Honeycutt.”

  “We baked cookies. I helped put the flour in the bowl.”

  Despite the mess, Sasha had enjoyed spending the afternoon with Evie.

  Remy glanced at the flour-strewn counter and floor. “Looks like you were a big help.”

  Evie nodded. “I was. Miz Honeycutt even said so. She’s real nice to me. Just like a real mommy. Wouldn’t it be great if she really was my mommy?”

  Remy made a choking sound, and Sasha’s heart constricted. Too bad he didn’t believe in love, because the sweet little girl deserved parents who not only loved her but each other.

  “Maybe if—”

  Her face burning up, Sasha handed Evie a glass. “Why don’t you three take the milk and plate of cookies into the sun-room?”

  The boys looked at each other then toward Remy, who gave them a quick nod. They hustled out of the room as if fleeing a crime scene.

  “Sorry about that.” He sighed and scraped his palm across his cheek to his jaw. “She’s not exactly subtle.”

  Lifting one shoulder, she huffed out a laugh and prayed her feelings weren’t written all over her face. “She’s seven.”

  When he didn’t respond, she swallowed. “Was I anything more than a convenient babysitter?”

  The radio mic attached to Remy’s epaulet crackled to life, and he held up his hand. “Go for Fontenot.”

  …

  Remy stuck the movie DVD under his arm as he balanced the pizza box in one hand to ring Sasha’s doorbell. After pressing the button, he put the movie back on the box. Had it been only a couple days ago that he’d stood here with coffee for their Austin trip? So much had changed. It was obvious Sasha wanted sentimental expressions of love. She believed in fairy tales, and he’d made his views on marriage known. How was he supposed to fix any of this? Did he want to?

  Sasha had made him forget what he’d learned from his first marriage. But most of all, she threatened his control. He’d been saved from answering her question this afternoon by the callout, but he couldn’t duck it forever. And he had taken advantage of her willingness to watch Evie. So he was guilty of using her as a convenient babysitter.

  After the double whammy of his parents’ deaths and his subsequent divorce, he’d vowed to never be put in a position he had no control over. His rational self knew that was impossible, but he would damn well do his best to prevent being out of control ever again. And yet every time he was with Sasha he had trouble maintaining it.

  And yet, he’d broken all his rules from the start. He’d chased all over the French Quarter to find a woman he knew nothing about except that he had to find her. He’d sworn not to lose his wits over a woman ever again. But logic and reason vanished where Sasha was concerned. And that he’d always keep Evie out of it. His number one job as her father was to protect her not just physically but her emotional well-being. Getting her tender heart shattered if his very adult relationship didn’t work out was a possibility, one that would be entirely his fault.

  The door swung open, and Evie clapped. “Pizza.”

  Sasha appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel. Despite his desire to regain control, the picture she made tugged at his heart. God, she was so beautiful. And he was crap at relationships.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” Sasha asked.

  He glanced up from the pizza box in his hand to offer a rueful smile. “Sorry. Long day.”

  “You said you had a surprise.” Evie danced around on her toes.

  “I sure do.” He handed her the DVD.

  “It’s the movie I wanted. Thank you.” Evie hugged him. “Can I watch it now?”

  Sasha rescued the pizza box. “Don’t you want to eat pizza first?”

  They were both looking at him now. Damn but he was exhausted. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Miss Honeycutt is right. We’ll eat first, then you can watch it.”

  Evie stared up at him. “Aren’t you gonna watch it, too?”

  He ruffled her hair. “Ms. Honeycutt and I might want to talk.”

  “What you gonna talk about?”

  He hated the hopeful expression on Evie’s face. “Grown-up stuff.”

  Sasha’s brow drew together, and that sexy dimple appeared, making him groan. He needed to regain control before going forward. But how? He had no idea how or when he’d even lost it.

  Remy stirred the cream and sugar into his coffee and waited. Waited for what he knew was coming. She’d been all smiles during supper for Evie, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. And each time her gaze met his, sadness filled her eyes. As if she were saying goodbye to him. His gut clenched at the thought.

  “So, what grown-up stuff do we need to talk about?” She set her coffee spoon carefully back on the saucer, her movements controlled, precise.

  Logic told him breaking things off now was for the best, except he had trouble acting logical around Sasha.

  “Is this about my views on marriage?” she asked when he didn’t respond to her first question.

  This was going to be a minefield, and he needed to step cautiously. Maybe she’d come around to his view of things. Yeah, right, and he’d spent the afternoon digging up the remains of Jimmy Hoffa.

  “I think marriage should be a partnership. I want a partner, not a protector.”

  He set his coffee cup down. Was he going to be able to salvage any of this? “It’s my job to protect.”

  “But marriage isn’t a job. A wife isn’t another responsibility for you to take on. It’s a partnership. Husbands and wives protect each other. That’s what partners do.” She started to reach out but dropped her hand.

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth and stared at the coffee in his cup. His gut was churning but his brain felt sluggish. “Sasha…”

  “Was any of this real?”

  He snapped his head up at her question. “I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I spotted you in that backless dress from across the piano bar.”

  “Attracted? Is that all it was?” She swallowed, the muscles in her delicate throat working.

  How was he supposed to answer that? “When Evie started matchmaking, I realized you’d be perfect.”

  “Perfect?” She frowned, that delicious dimple beckoning.

  He nodded. Maybe they could salvage this after all. “I’ve been trying to show you I’d make a perfect husband.”

  She laughed, but it didn’t contain any humor. “You make it sound like you’ve been auditioning for a part in my life.”

  Maybe this wasn’t salvageable. He had trouble dragging in a decent breath. Emotions clawed at his chest, flaying him like razors. He used anger to tamp them down.

  She folded her arms across her stomach. “Do…do you love me, Remy?”

  He drew his finger under his collar. Sweat gathered in his armpits. If he answered, he’d n
ever regain control. He’d be laid open. Vulnerable. Sasha could hurt him more than Randi ever dreamed of.

  “I see.”

  “Sasha,” he croaked out.

  She held up a hand. “Don’t. Like you said after A-Austin…we had some fun.”

  He fought the urge to take her in his arms and wipe away the shadows in her eyes.

  Evie came skipping into the kitchen. “Papá, I watched the whole movie. Are you guys done talking?”

  “Yes, we’re done.”

  …

  Remy rubbed his hand over his face as he hung up the phone on his desk. The task force he’d been working with was ready to make its move first thing tomorrow and needed him along on the takedown. He tried to muster some enthusiasm.

  It had been five days since he’d left Sasha’s place after their “talk.” Taking a break…giving what they had some breathing space. They used euphemisms and danced around the truth. But no matter how you phrased it, he and Sasha were no longer seeing each other. And he missed her. Evie missed her, too, but his daughter must’ve picked up on his mood, because she’d stopped asking when they were going to see Miz Honeycutt. But she’d continued to mope. Yeah, they were some pair.

  Evie had started day camp, and he’d been trying to bury himself in work. His desk had never been so clear of paperwork, and he’d never felt worse. Bernice, the secretary who’d been with the department longer than anyone could remember, clucked her tongue and shook her head whenever she looked at him. The deputies did their best to stay out of his way.

  Now he needed to find someone to watch Evie, since tomorrow was Saturday, so no day camp, and Theresa wasn’t back from vacation yet.

  Sighing, he pulled out his personal cell and called Ethan.

  “Sorry, bro,” Ethan replied when Remy explained the situation. “I’d love to help you, but I’m in Denver. If you’d been paying attention, you’d know that.”

  Instead of hassling his little brother, he sighed. Ethan was right. He should’ve remembered that. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Have you called Sasha?”

  Remy winced, glad Ethan couldn’t see his face. “I could, but…I really don’t want to ask her.”

  “Really? Sounds to me that’s exactly what you want to do. And I don’t think that’s the only thing you want to ask her.”