she said with great reluctance.
“Or in the kitchen.” Cliff popped the automatic lock with his key fob and opened the driver’s side door. “Remember to call me.”
“Thank you for everything. Scarlett and I...we acted hastily. Without thinking things through.”
“That happens when you’re scared.”
“Everyone’s going to so much trouble for me.”
“We’ll talk more tonight. Set up your new cell phone. Make plans for the square dance.”
“Okay.” She started to back away.
Cliff didn’t let her get very far before pulling her into his embrace.
“For show,” he said. “In case Will and any of the other employees are watching.”
And to comfort Ruby, he added to himself. She looked ready to crumble.
Only it felt less like show and comforting and more like how a man holds a woman he wants to kiss. Cliff was reluctant to release her.
“See you later.” Sliding behind the steering wheel, he started the engine. She turned and headed back to the corral. He watched her progress in his rearview mirror.
Leaving Ruby was difficult and not only because he was concerned for her safety.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had felt so good, so right, in his arms.
Cliff spent a total of fifteen minutes at Tom Welch’s place checking on the missing chain saw. While there were fresh footprints behind his barn, nothing was stolen or disturbed. Cliff considered the possibility that Tom had made the prints himself. He did have a reputation for imbibing one too many whiskeys, forgetting where he’d been and what he’d done.
After assuring Tom that either he or his deputy would drive by later on rounds, Cliff aimed his SUV in the direction of town. Traffic was light, and he passed only two unfamiliar vehicles. The occupants appeared to be tourists. Nonetheless, he made a mental note of each car’s make and model.
The Dempsey Trading Post and General Store had changed little since Cliff was a kid, though it was easily ten times the size of the original one founded in the early 1860s. His ancestors had originally come from Ohio, traveling with one of many wagon trains heading west. For reasons unknown, they disembarked early rather than continuing to California.
Sweetheart was no more than a primitive settlement in those days. Cliff’s entrepreneurial great-great-whatever uncle founded a one-room trading post that had catered to prospectors lured to the area by a gold strike in the nearby mountains. As the population expanded, so had the man’s business. His nephew became the first sheriff.
Cliff grew up spending much of his youth in the store, pestering his aunt or playing with his cousin. Even during high school, when girls and sports consumed his every waking thought, he still visited the store. More frequently when his aunt hired the homecoming queen for a part-time cashier position.
Striding down the center aisle, he tipped his hat to a pair of customers and made his way straight to the photo and electronics counter.
“Hey, you!” His cousin Maeve smiled broadly at him as she rang up a young man’s order. “Be just a second.”
He observed his cousin, taking pleasure in her happy expression and relaxed, cheerful manner. So different from last summer when he’d helped her and her children move here. Then, she’d been miserable and withdrawn.
“What brings you by, cowboy?” she asked after seeing off the customer. “Don’t tell me Evan is throwing rocks into the neighbor’s yard again.”
Lately, her two-year-old son had decided it was fun to collect rocks and chuck them over the fence. The neighbor had complained.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Cliff said.
“Thank goodness.” Maeve wiped imaginary sweat from her brow.
“I need to buy one of those disposable phones.” He indicated the display wall behind her.
“Something happen to yours?”
“Nope.”
She waited and shrugged when he didn’t offer any additional information. “I’m guessing it’s one of those sheriff things you can’t tell me about.”
“And you’d be right.”
She showed him the three brands of phones the store carried and recommended the most popular one. He chose the least popular. If Crowley was going to get this number, he’d have to work extra hard.
“Need help activating it?”
“No, thanks.” Cliff quelled her insatiable curiosity with a look.
She grumbled in frustration. “You really aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“Sorry.”
“Will I see you at supper?” She bagged the box containing the phone. “Mom wants to talk about the Mega Weekend of Weddings.” She rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”
“Can’t. I’m on duty.”
“You’re allowed to take a meal break.”
She was right. And he often did join his aunt and cousin for lunch or supper and sometimes breakfast if it was a tough night.
“I have other plans.”
“More sheriff stuff?”
“What can I say?”
She made a last attempt to sway him. “The kids will miss you.”
“I’ll see them tomorrow.” Cliff had volunteered to watch Maeve’s lively brood in the evening while she helped her mother decorate the community center for the upcoming square dance.
Maybe Ruby would go with him to babysit. Scarlett had.
He reconsidered almost immediately, and it had nothing to do with Ruby’s discomfort around children. She was a crime victim and, therefore, off-limits. They could carry out her ruse without spending every evening together.
“All right.” Maeve sighed expressively. “If you change your mind, just call. Mom always makes enough food for an army.”
Grabbing the bag with the phone, he bid his cousin goodbye and left the store. With no other calls coming in, he went directly to the station.
Only one other car occupied the small lot outside the station. It belonged to Iva Lynn, his dispatcher, secretary and, when the need arose, his deputy. She’d even filled in as sheriff for two months, in between the time Cliff’s father retired and Cliff transferred from the Reno police force.
His parents had left behind a lifetime in Sweetheart to reside in Phoenix where the dry air and milder weather was kinder to his mother’s arthritic joints. At first, Cliff wasn’t thrilled about returning to the home of
