The Sheriff's Son
It meant Tanner was watching her.
Beneath the prickliness, she shivered. He’d always seen too much, read her too well, understood too clearly what she was feeling.
Except for that one heart-wrenching night when he didn’t understand anything at all.
At the front of the room, Doc Thompson banged his gavel again. “All right, now, let’s call this meeting to order.”
Gradually the noise in the room faded away, except for the calming hum of the overhead fan.
Then she heard the slap of boots on bare wooden flooring, the rattling of metal, the squeaking of leather. Afraid to turn her head, she looked from the corner of her eye. And saw Tanner sauntering along the front row toward her.
Around her, excited whispering drowned out everything but the rushing of her blood in her ears. Everyone in town knew her and Tanner’s history.
Or most of it, anyway.
When he took the empty seat beside her, she stiffened and ground her teeth together. The gall of the man, when she’d made it plain she didn’t want to sit with him.
“Hey, Tanner, welcome back.” From the row behind them, Charlie Kemper leaned forward.
In the process of shaking Charlie’s hand, Tanner grazed the bare skin of her arm. His touch seemed accidental—harmless?—but that didn’t stop her from choking on her sudden indrawn breath.
“Hey, you okay?”
Full of concern, Tanner turned to her and placed a huge hand on either of her arms. She could have cried.
He had always held her just that way when he meant to kiss her. Years of conditioning sent her eyelids fluttering downward. She caught herself and jerked them open. Pulled herself out of his reach. Those days of sweet kisses had ended long ago.
“I’m fine,” she gasped.
“Sarah,” Doc Thompson called from the front table, “are you needing my services over there?”
She shook her head and coughed. “No, thanks, Doc.”
Shifting in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks burned.
Tanner’s blue eyes twinkled. Those sea-blue eyes, very like Kevin’s. With Tanner’s so-called deductive ability, how could he have missed noticing the similarity this morning?
What would he do when he finally made the connection? When he finally uncovered the secret she’d spent so many years hiding?
“All right, then,” Doc announced, “we’ve got Deputy Jones here with us, so let’s get this meeting started. The floor’s open for comment,” Doc said. “Who’s first?”
“Me.” Jeb Carter, small and bowlegged in his faded overalls, began shuffling to the front of the room. “I’m concerned about crime in Dillon. I’ve had things turn up missing around my place, like the end of a roll of twine or an empty bushel basket.”
“Can’t blame that on anybody, Jeb,” someone from the audience yelled out. “Not remembering where you put things—shoot, that’s old age.”
Several people laughed.
“I remember well enough,” he argued. “And someone’s leaving pop bottles all over my yard, too. And I don’t drink pop.”
“I think he’s on to something.” Behind them, Charlie Kemper rose. “The hubcaps from my Chevy disappeared.”
“That old car of yours doesn’t run, anyway, Charlie,” the heckler called.
“That don’t make a difference,” Jeb Carter retorted.
“He’s right,” a woman yelled.
And suddenly voices were raised, drowning out Doc’s every effort to calm them. Sarah listened in amazement. She hadn’t known about any of this. While she’d stayed in her beloved bookstore, wrapped up in her own problems, a string of crimes seemed to have plagued Dillon in recent weeks.
Petty, that was the main thing. Nothing they couldn’t handle—and quick.
Because the sooner she and the rest of the towns-folk took care of their troubles, the sooner Deputy Sheriff Tanner Jones could return to his County post.
And the sooner he would be gone from her life.
Again.
THE FOLKS OF Dillon hadn’t changed a bit—any excuse for a potluck. And people had turned out in force tonight.
For a while there, Tanner thought he’d have a revolt on his hands. It had taken some effort to get everyone settled back in their seats, though raised voices still filled the room. Sarah looked shell-shocked.
He turned away. Best to think of her later and, for now, to keep his mind on this meeting.
At the front table, Mrs. G had moved to sit in the empty chair beside Doc Thompson.
He walked to the center of the room. “It sounds as if a petty crime wave is plaguing Dillon. I’ll be looking into this, but I may need some assistance from all of you.”
Doc nodded agreement.
“You’re absolutely right.” Mrs. G stood. “All right, folks,” she announced in her schoolteacher tone. Tanner swallowed his grin. He should’ve let her handle crowd control. “Deputy Jones has offered to help, but he can’t do it all alone. What do you say to a citizen’s watch?”
“I’m game,” Charlie Kemper volunteered.
“Count me in,” someone else added.
“Sounds good, Mrs. G.” Tanner thought a minute. “I’ll be happy to run the committee, Doc, if you’ll co-chair it with me. We need a civilian in charge, too.”
Doc patted his ample stomach and smiled. “Why, sur—”
“Doc’s much too busy,” Mrs. G cut in.
Tanner kept tight hold of his surprise. Interrupt someone in her class way back when, and you’d have gotten your mouth scoured out. “Then, maybe Char—”
“We need someone with a level head.”
Tanner’s jaw dropped when Mrs. G broke in a second time.
“We need someone unbiased,” she continued thoughtfully. “Someone like…Sarah.”
He turned to face her. Sarah raised her chin and stared him down.
A number of loud voices rose in support of her.
He nearly snorted. Unbiased, hell, with her son already caught egg-handed and who knew what else he’d been up to?
“The co-chairs would have to work very closely together,” Mrs. G said from behind him, just under cover of the noise.
He peered at her from over his shoulder. She sat giving him that same wide-eyed, encouraging expression she’d turn his way during the annual school spelling bee. Now, as it always did back then, her look made him put his mind to work.
Co-chairing the committee with Sarah would give him open invitation into her bookstore. And into her life. That way, he’d make sure to keep an eye on that wayward child of hers.
And the other eye on Sarah—not a half-bad idea, seeing as she was on her own again.
He’d given up a lot of things when he’d left Dillon, all those years ago, and not only Sarah’s pecan loaf. But now he was back and ready to find out just what he’d missed.
“Sounds like a fine plan to me.” He grinned. “You agreeable, Sarah?”
Seemed like the whole of Dillon gave up breathing while she thought it over.
After a long while, she stood up and walked to the center of the room to stand in front of Doc.
“I’m willing,” she announced.
“Good.” Maybe she’d finally come to her senses and admitted she needed his help. He shifted his shoulders and stood just a shade taller in his uniform.
Doc slid a clipboard across the table.
Sarah reached for it and held it up high. “Okay, we’ll get a sign-up sheet going here, folks. Anyone who wants to take part in the watch, put your name down, and we’ll get started organizing people into groups tonight.”
“What about eating?” Charlie called, getting a round of laughs.
“Refreshments first,” Tanner replied. “Then whoever’s not planning to sign up for watch can leave.”
Doc rubbed his hands together. “Let’s hit those desserts.”
He and Mrs. G fell into step behind the townsfolk swarming toward the back of the room, leaving him alone with Sarah.
She started away from him, too.
He reached out for her.
She froze and stared at him, so close he could see a tiny nerve flicker in one cheek. So still he could feel a pounding pulse in her wrist.
He scanned her from head to toe. Her eyes, calm and green; her long, uptight braid; her tall, slim but curvy body, dressed in the same flower-print dress she’d worn that afternoon.
Imagination took over and he saw those eyes flashing, that braid loosened, that dress a pile of petals on the floor.
As if she read something in him, she pulled her arm away and stepped back. “We’d best get along to the refreshment table, or you’ll miss out.”
“Nah.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like I’ll be around awhile. You can make me a pecan loaf all to myself.”
“And you can make an appointment with Doc right now. To get some medicine for your delusions.”
Illusions, more likely.
He grinned. “Can’t deny it, Sarah, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Only until we figure out what’s going on around town.” Her eyes flashed for real this time. “So don’t go getting any ideas, Deputy.”
Chapter Three
Two days later, with a heavy heart, Sarah looked around the store and thought about the childhood she’d spent there.
She could barely remember her mother, who had died when she was four years old. From then on, only she and Daddy rattled around in the three-story house with the big backyard.
As a child, she had loved having all the books she could ever want just downstairs in her very own home. It wasn’t till much, much later, when she’d started working in the store with Daddy, that she learned the price of all that convenience. Taxes. Utilities. Upkeep. And a business that usually lost more money than it earned.
Right now, the accounting books glowed in neon-red. She would be ashamed to show them to Delia, the owner of Dillon’s one and only restaurant, who had taught her how to balance the accounts after Daddy died.
Daddy would never give up the house or the store—and neither would she. She’d never wanted to work anywhere but here.
She turned back to the notes she’d jotted on the legal pad in front of her, the rough outline of ways to earn extra money. Maybe not enough to pay off all her bills, but any lightening of her load would help. The first idea she’d come up with, she owed to Tanner Jones and his devotion to her pecan loaf.
And speak of the devil—she looked out the window to see the County Sheriff’s sedan glide to a stop in front of The Book Cellar. She’d had a reprieve from Tanner the day before, but that had just ended.
She slid the notepad onto the shelf beneath the cash register. Wiping her palms on her skirt, she glanced at the wall clock. Kevin’s school bus would drop him off shortly.
The last thing she wanted was for Tanner to be in the same room as her son. She prayed Kevin would come into the store and head directly to the stairs leading up to their kitchen instead of charging into the store like he usually did. But surely he would see the sheriff’s car outside and would know enough to avoid Tanner. Or maybe not.
She would have to get rid of him.
For a moment, his broad outline blocked the light from the front window, and a cool shadow seemed to fall over her. How could that happen, when he hadn’t yet entered the store?
He shoved the door open. The bell tinkled. She wrapped her arms around herself for reassurance.
She could handle this situation. She had to.
“Afternoon, Sarah.”
She nodded. Even before he removed his mirror-shaded sunglasses, she could feel his gaze on her. When her hands shook, she both feared and welcomed the reaction. Feared it for showing, no matter what he’d done, she hadn’t gotten over him. Welcomed it because, like the jingling bell, it gave her a warning.
She slipped a clipboard out from beside her notepad. She’d hurry this meeting along.
Between them, she and Tanner had set up the neighborhood watch. In pairs, people walked through town or drove past the outlying ranches. So far, though, they hadn’t seen anyone involved in suspicious activity.
She forced herself to meet Tanner’s eyes. “Not a thing new to report, Deputy. We’ve got our groups set up for tonight and tomorrow.”
“Enthusiasm staying pretty high?” He leaned close. Too close. Above the well-loved scents of paper and leather bindings that permeated the store, she caught a whiff of his aftershave.
Easing backward, she shrugged. “Things have quieted, but the teams are still out doing their jobs. And you?”
“Doing my job, you mean? Trying to, at least.” He grinned.
She looked down, made an unnecessary checkmark next to an imaginary item. Tried to keep her mind on her own duties. “Have you found out who’s behind all these pranks?”
“In two days? No. But I’ll start making rounds in the County car at night.”
“If you’re taking on extra duties yourself, I’ll do the same.” It was the least a co-chair could do.
“We can make up a team.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He leaned forward, giving her another look at his devilish grin. “Aw, c’mon, Sarah. Be like old times, when we’d cruise around in that old clunker I had.”
They had spent more than a few of their nights riding alone in the dark, intimate closeness of the front seat of his car. She glared at him.
The gall of the man yet again, same as on the night of the Town Hall meeting. Insinuating himself where he wasn’t wanted, using that same teasing tone. Acting as if they could regain what they’d had between them years ago.
“That won’t work, Tanner. We’re not teenagers anymore.” She clutched her clipboard harder. “I can’t patrol after dark, anyway. I need to be home in the evenings for Kevin.”
As if the mention of her son’s name had summoned him, the front door swung open. Tensing, she glanced past Tanner, then sagged in relief.
Jerry, the mail carrier, came down the center aisle of the store juggling a couple large packing boxes. An envelope rested precariously on top. Her heart sank as she spied the return receipt card attached to it. Another creditor, wanting to make sure she received her overdue bills.
“Afternoon, Sarah. Not a bad haul, today.”
In his opinion, maybe.
Jerry set the boxes on the counter. The envelope slid off to land on the floor at Tanner’s feet. “’Scuse me, Deputy.”
“No problem.” Tanner bent and picked up the offending piece of mail. He frowned down at it, then handed it to Sarah.
She scribbled her signature, ripped off the receipt, and returned it to Jerry, who nodded his thanks and left.
“Let me set these boxes back in my office,” she told Tanner, “and we can go over the roster for the watch teams.”
“Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
Before she could protest, he lifted the packing boxes as though they weighed no more than the envelope. She hurried into her office, not wanting to be trapped in the narrow aisle with him.
Her tiny back room gave her no better space. With the added height of his high-crowned Stetson and the heels of his dress boots, Tanner seemed tall enough to brush the ceiling. Broad enough to fill the room. Alive and healthy and strong enough to require all the air in the vicinity.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Just set them on the pile beside the filing cabinet.” She looked toward the desk, intending to place the envelope there, and cringed when she saw the bills she’d left lined up, with their incriminating red stamps marked Overdue. One little shift sideways, one turn of his head, and Tanner would see them, too.
As he leaned over to put the boxes down, she hurried past him to the desk.
“That’s some son you’ve got, Sarah.”
The words stopped her in her tracks. After a long moment, she turned and faced him, her body blocking the desktop. “What do you mean?”
He nodded toward the bulletin board. “Drawings up there, looking good. He shows more talent with a couple of crayons than we ever managed to do in Art. He take after his dad?”
The blood rushed from Sarah’s head. Her face felt chilled, her mouth frozen. She didn’t want to answer Tanner. Couldn’t. But he stood looking at her, waiting for an answer.
“No, his father doesn’t have any artistic skill, either.” It wasn’t a lie. Tanner had just made that clear. Still, the half truth seemed to twist in her heart.
He stepped closer. “I say something wrong?” He reached up, as if to stroke the stray curls that tumbled against her temple.
Time stopped. Turned back. Raced away.
She stood, held in place by the look in Tanner’s eyes.
His hand hovered near her head, a breath away from touching her, until he clenched his fingers and lowered his arm to his side.
She whirled to face the desk, scooped the row of bills into an untidy pile and flipped it over. Hands shaking, she struggled to line up the edges of the papers.
The crazy thought occurred to her that she should tell him everything right now. Reveal her money troubles. Confess the truth about Kevin.
And request eight years’ worth of child support.
But of course she wouldn’t. She didn’t want anything from Tanner. Except his rapid departure from her life.
Behind her, he cleared his throat once, twice.
She sighed inwardly. Sooner or later, she’d have to meet his eyes again. Slowly, she turned. To her relief, he had backed a step away.
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his back pockets—in another attempt to keep from reaching for her?
“If I stuck my foot in it just now, that’s because I’m feeling out of touch with you. So to speak.” He cleared his throat again. “I mean, nobody’s said much to me about you. You haven’t said much about yourself. Me, either, if it comes down to it. Guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Not if she could help it.
“So, what happened to your husband, Sarah? Where is he now? What’s he doing?”
He asked the questions so casually, each one causing her a twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.
Would she ever be?
She swallowed hard. “That’s really none of your business.”
“It was, once. You were my girl, Sarah. Nothing was going to change that.”
“Then you walked away. Left town. Joined the army. What did you expect, that I would just sit home and wait for you?”
She hadn’t expected Tanner to leave her. Or Daddy to die. Or herself having to do…anything that had come afterward.
“Don’t know what I thought.”
“Well, I—” The familiar squeal of brakes outside choked off her words. The school bus.
At the sound, Tanner looked toward the door.
She closed her eyes for a moment, making him disappear from her sight, wishing she could cause him to go away permanently.
The front doorbell gave the usual exuberant clang that meant her son had made contact with it. To her dismay, Kevin’s voice rang out, too.
“Hey, Mom, I’m home.”
His sneakers slapped against the wooden floor as he came toward the back of the store.
“In here, honey.”
Tanner, standing closer to the office door, shifted into the opening.
Kevin’s sneakers squeaked to a halt. “Hey—”
She hurried to step beside Tanner. “Hi, Kev.”
He had stopped halfway down the center aisle. His eyes widened, his lips trembled in obvious shock and a hint of fear. Still, his small fists crept up to rest on his hips. He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him, and twice as protective. Her heart lurched.
“What’re you doin’?” he demanded.
“Hush, Kevin. That’s not—”
“Watch it, kid,” Tanner cut in, “that’s your mom you’re talking to.”
“I’m not—”
“Kevin.”
“But, Mom, I was talking to him.”
“That’s not the way we act with guests, is it?”
She pushed past Tanner. He had no right to discipline her son in front of her. No call to speak to him that way at all.
Tanner followed her into the store, then stood looking at her, one eyebrow raised.
Did he think she’d let such rudeness slide? Did he really think she couldn’t manage her own son?
Egging the sheriff’s car had been wrong. She had already taken Kevin to task for it and given him a list of extra chores, as well. And she would reprimand him for his backtalk now. But, oh, how she wished she could avoid this whole issue, when it only prolonged having Kevin and Tanner together.
“We were just visiting, honey,” she told her son. “And you need to apologize to Deputy Jones for your tone.”
“But, Mom—”
She shook her head, caught between feeling proud of him and needing to behave like a concerned parent. The prideful part wanted her to excuse her son, as she suspected he’d only meant to defend her. The parent knew she had to teach him to take responsibility for his actions.
Besides, she couldn’t let him think he could back-talk a deputy sheriff!
“Kevin…”
After a long pause, he glowered at Tanner and muttered, “Sorry.” Immediately, he looked back to Sarah. “Can I have my cookies now?”
She nodded. “Don’t spoil your supper.”
Kevin dodged down a side aisle, and a moment later they heard him pounding up the stairs.
With a firm hold on her emotions, she turned to Tanner. Instead of the angry look she’d expected, she found him gazing at her thoughtfully, a smile touching his lips.
She could have dealt better with anger.
“Supper…” His smile widened. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Still barbecue night at Delia’s?”
She nodded shortly. The one indulgence she allowed herself and Kevin. Because she could run up a tab at the diner.
“Mm-mmm,” Tanner growled. “About the only thing I like better than your pecan loaf is a plateful of Delia’s barbecue.”
“Really?” She wasn’t about to take the bait for an invitation. “If you don’t mind getting back on task here…As you can see, I have taught my son some manners. Still, I apologize for him, too.”
To her shock, Tanner just shrugged. “To me, seemed like the kid was only looking out for you.”
“To me, too.” For a moment, that feeling of pride pushed her to smile.
He shook his head. “Must be hard, him not having a dad around. Maybe I should talk to him. Teach him a little respect.”
Her smile slid away. “I’m teaching him—”
“Coddling’s not always the best way.”
“You don’t know a thing about it,” she snapped. What had she been thinking, sharing the tiniest moment of understanding with Tanner? He was the enemy, the man who could bring her life tumbling down around her, if he ever found out the truth. “And I can handle my own problems.”
One eyebrow slowly went up. “So, you admit you’ve got trouble with him.”
“Right now, the only trouble I’ve got is with you.” She stalked around him to pick up the clipboard with the team rosters. “Why don’t we settle our business, so you can be on your way?”
TANNER CHECKED OUT the roads around Dillon for a while, then turned back to town just near suppertime. It had been a depressing trip, for more than one reason, and he needed food. Company. And answers.
The reminder of Thursday and barbecue night headed him in the direction of Main Street. Even before he’d left, there hadn’t been much to the town of Dillon, just a couple blocks of businesses. And now there were a lot of vacant properties between Delia’s Diner at one end and The Book Cellar down near the other.
Thinking about the bookstore set him off again. He still fumed from Sarah’s quick run-through of the duty rosters, followed by her cold dismissal. He couldn’t understand her reaction. A single mother, with a young boy running wild. Things couldn’t be easy. He’d only tried to help.
Why had she bothered to co-chair the committee with him?
Maybe she’d caught on at last, made the connection between her kid and his mischief and the other problems going on about town. Of course, Kevin couldn’t account for all the complaints, but Tanner suspected that he was one of several kids involved in this “crime wave.”
Someone would have to keep track of that boy.
And, plain as day, Sarah Lindstrom hadn’t a chance of controlling her misbehaving child. No wonder, with what she said to him two days earlier.
