The Lawman's Convenient Bride

But come on. It was thirteen years ago, which definitely put it into the category of old news. And she just didn’t feel up to going into it now.

Kind of like she didn’t feel up to reaching out to Seth Yancy...

On second thought, maybe there had been a little damage to her moral compass, after all.

“Jody?” Elise was watching her through suddenly worried eyes. “You okay?”

Jody pulled it together. “I am just fine. And you’re going to New York with Jed.”

* * *

The following Tuesday, Jody stood at the design station at Bloom. She was shaving the corners off a cube of floral foam when in walked the sheriff. Again.

Jody put down her knife with care. “Hello, Seth.”

He took off his aviator sunglasses and his County Mounty hat and came right for her. “You never called.” He set the hat on the counter and the glasses beside it.

Careful not to let anything spill on his hat, she brushed the shaved bits of foam from her hands. “There was no reason to call you. Everything is fine.”

“You’re sure?” He regarded her solemnly, with bleak concentration, as though if he stared hard enough, he could see inside her head and discover all the ways she wasn’t taking proper care of herself.

Jody had a burning need to let out a long, exasperated sigh. Somehow, she quelled that. “I’m sure.”

“Should you be on your feet so much?”

She was suddenly glad for the deep counter between them. He couldn’t look down and see her slightly swollen ankles—which were nothing out of the ordinary for a woman in her third trimester. “Honestly. I’m taking excellent care of myself.”

He sent a suspicious glance around the shop. “Those tubs of flowers outside are heavy. You should have help carrying them in at night.”

She had a good answer for that one. “And I do have help. Plenty of it.”

“How so?”

What? He had to have specifics as to her employees and the hours they worked? Fine. She would give him specifics. “I hired an extra assistant. I already have one who comes in to work with me on Saturday, runs the shop on Sunday by herself and picks up the slack whenever I need her. The new one comes in at two and stays through closing, Monday through Friday. And when the baby’s born, she’ll be here full-time for as long as I need her, and my original assistant will be working more, too.” Was that enough information to end this interrogation?

Apparently not. “You were here on your own a week ago when we talked.” It came out as an accusation with How could you be so irresponsible? implied at the end of it.

No way I have to explain myself to you. But then she went ahead and did it anyway. “The new girl called in sick that day. But she hasn’t missed a day since. And if she can’t make it, and the other clerk is busy, I have more people I can call.”

“What about when you open up in the morning?”

“What about it?”

“Who carries all those tubs of flowers outside then?”

Seriously. Was this in any way his business? No. But if she told him to butt out, he might just decide to stick around and explain in detail all the reasons he had a right to cross-examine her. And what she really wanted was for him to go away. “For weeks now, my sister Elise or one of her clerks has been helping me open up every morning that I’m here on my own.”

“I’d be happy to come by and pitch in.”

“I... Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

“You still have my card with my numbers?”

Where had she put that? “I do. Yes. Of course.”

“Jody.” He gave her that laser-eyed stare again. “Did you lose my card?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Show it to me.”

She stood very still and reminded herself sternly that she was not going to start yelling at him. “I don’t have it handy. Sorry.”

The sheriff was not pleased. He pulled out a cell phone and punched some numbers into it. Her cell, in the pocket of her bib apron, blooped. “I’ve sent you my numbers. Again.”

“Thanks.” She knew she didn’t sound the least appreciative, and by then, she didn’t even care.

He took another of his cards from his breast pocket, grabbed a pen from the jar on the corner of the counter and wrote down all his private numbers all over again. “Just to make sure you don’t lose them this time.” He held it out to her.

She didn’t take it. “Seth, come on. You already put them in my phone.”

“What if you lose your phone?”

“I won’t.” She folded her arms and rested them on her protruding stomach. “And anyway, I still have the first card you gave me. It’s around. Somewhere.” They glared at each other.

“I just want to help.” He said it gently, but there was no mistaking the disapproval in his eyes.

And then the shop bell over the door jingled, saving her from saying something she shouldn’t. Two well-dressed middle-aged women came in. “I have customers,” she said with a blatantly unfriendly smile. “If you’ll excuse me.” She sidled out from behind the counter and made for the newcomers. “Hello, ladies. How may I help you?”

By the time she’d sold the women a mixed bouquet each, Seth had given up and left. She found the card he’d been trying to hand her on the design counter next to the partially shaved cube of foam. Shaking her head, she stuck it in her apron pocket.

And then she banished Seth Yancy from her thoughts.

Humming softly to herself, she went back to work arranging peonies, roses, green hydrangeas, maidenhair ferns and two gorgeous green-tipped purple Fiesole artichokes in a mercury glass compote bowl.

* * *

On Friday, Seth called her at home. He wanted to know how she was doing. She said she felt great.

He said, “If you need anything, you’ll call me?”

“Absolutely,” she replied and refused to think too deeply as to whether or not that was true.

A few minutes after she hung up, she got another call—this time on her cell. It was her sister Nell, who ran a construction business with their brother Garrett. Nellie wanted to fly to Phoenix that weekend for a home show. “Just checking in to be sure you’re doing all right before I even think about deserting you.”

“You’re not deserting me. Nothing is happening here. Go.”

“I might stay over until Tuesday or Wednesday. Visit with an...old friend.”