can keep this herd together if they bolt, but I’d rather not work Aggie that hard. She’s had a long day, too.”
“I don’t want to get fired. The lights stay on.”
“Don’t you know better than to argue with a woman who’s packing?” Not that she would shoot him or anyone—the Colt .45 she carried was strictly for frightening off wildlife and the occasional rattler—but it was fun to see the question pass across his face.
“You’ve got a permit for that?”
A permit? Autumn found herself grinning wider. He wasn’t too bad for an outsider, especially when he cut the lights. Nope, not a bad guy at all. The big question was how long he would last before he went the way of three out of the last four lawmen who’d held his job. They’d run back to city life as fast as they could bolt.
She rode along, attention on the cattle. The animals closest to her held their heads up and their tongues out, trying to hook the cookie bag. When she hit the main road, she leaned right and led the herd along the pavement. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sheriff’s SUV ambling the wrong way in the oncoming lane, headlights bright to warn any approaching traffic.
A little overkill, considering the only vehicle they came across was Jeremy Miller in his semi-sized tractor rumbling toward them at a leisurely clip. Autumn waved when Jeremy did.
“Who’s the yahoo with the lights?” The rancher leaned out his window.
“The new sheriff.”
“Just my luck. I didn’t think he was supposed to start until December.”
“Neither did I.” She glanced over her shoulder. The sheriff had eased back behind her to give the tractor his lane. “Did you see Parnell back there?”
“Spotted two of his girls riding down the hill. They ought to catch up with you in a few.” Jeremy tipped his Stetson and raised his window, so that air conditioning and satellite radio kept him comfy and entertained as he rolled along. She suspected he waved to the sheriff, but she didn’t look to be sure.
I give him three months tops before he heads back to Chicago, she thought, glancing over her shoulder. Yep, there he was back in the oncoming lane, trying to keep the cattle from drifting over into it, determined to protect the ranching population of White Horse County from a few cows on a rangeland road. Poor guy. Probably really thought he was helping.
She spotted the Parnell girls on the next rise. Both high school girls trotted along the road, horses’ manes flying. When they were closer, one of them—Ashleigh—held up a small pail and rattled it. “Grain!”
Cow heads swung higher. The promise of cookies was forgotten as excited moos rang out and the three dozen animals took off at an eager lope.
“Thanks, Autumn!” Hazel called out.
“No problem.” She drew Aggie to a stop and rested her hands on the pommel. The saddle’s leather was cool from the near-freezing temperature.
“Is that the new sheriff?” Ashleigh asked.
“So I’m told.” Behind her she heard a door whisk open and an engine idling.
“I didn’t know he was in town already. Cool.” The girls wheeled their mounts and took off, trailed by their pets, who raced after them. “Why are you here?” Autumn urged Aggie around to face the newcomer. “It’s not December.”
“Came early to get settled in. I’m not officially on the clock yet. The mayor told me I could have the car for personal use. Part of my salary.”
“That and you’re the only officer around, so you get to answer all the emergency calls. Even in the middle of the night. Did he tell you that?”
“I heard a fleeting mention. The mayor made it sound like it was no big deal. Do emergency calls come in a lot around here?”
“I have no idea.” She dismounted with a creak of the saddle and the thud of her boots on the road. Couldn’t be more than five foot three, he decided. She stood a full foot shorter than he did.
“Is there anything else I should know? Wait. Maybe I don’t want to hear it. Maybe next you’ll be telling me Miller’s rental house is really a henhouse.” Couldn’t say why he felt the need to tease another smile from her, but he did.
“No, but it is a barn.”
“What?” He’d only been joking. His pulse screeched to a stop. A barn? He’d trusted the real estate agent, who was the mayor’s wife. “That’s what I get for renting sight unseen.”
“You figured you could trust us honest country folk, right?” Her hazel eyes, an amazing combination of browns, greens and golds twinkled like veiled trouble.
He didn’t think she was laughing at him, but she was having fun with him. He had the feeling he wasn’t the first city boy who’d come to these parts and had decided to banter with the pretty cowgirl. Very pretty, he corrected. So pretty that he’d like to get to know her more.
“Living in a barn won’t be so bad.” She turned to her saddle pack and dug through the leather bag. “Think of it this way. Because of all the animals, you will always have company. You’ll get the full country experience. Plus, you won’t have to pack water far at all, since there’s an outside pump nearby.”
“Pump?” That didn’t sound like the place had indoor plumbing. “Are you serious? No, you’re kidding me.”
“You read all those Westerns. You ought to know about ranch life.” She handed him a roll of duct tape. “It’s probably illegal to drive without a functioning side-view mirror. Good luck, Sheriff.”
“Do you want to have dinner with me?”
“Nope. I’m busy tonight.” That was an urban dude for you, always eager to play the dating game.
“Any night, then. How about Friday?”
“Can’t. Busy then, too.” She swung into the saddle, settled into the stirrups and considered the man leaning against the side of his four-wheel-drive. He was trying to look suave while clutching a roll of tape and standing next to a dangling mirror. The cows had not been kind to the vehicle. “Here’s a hint. Country girls aren’t dumb or easy. Have a good evening.”
“I never thought—”
She pressed her heels to Aggie’s side and the mare took of, eager for the day to be over, too. Autumn tipped her hat as they raced by. This wasn’t her first experience with a city sheriff come to town.
I don’t know about that guy, she told herself, leaning forward in her saddle as Aggie’s gait changed to a canter. Sheriff Ford Sherman might not be Denny Jones, but he may as well be.
The drum of Aggie’s steel shoes became pleasant music to match the wind whistling in her ears as they raced home.
Chapter Two
A barn? Not only was Ford surprised to learn the tractor guy was his landlord, but his new dwelling was a barn. Imagine that. The pretty
