jerked her hand free. In that moment, the door creaked open and in strolled the deputy. Sharp relief cascaded through her.
“Deputy MacGregor, you’re just the man I wanted to see.”
* * *
The tension inside the building was unmistakable. The Gallatin brothers weren’t fond of him. He’d taken them to task over multiple offenses, although nothing serious that would require jail time. The fact he was younger than both of them pricked their pride. Myron met Ben’s gaze in silent challenge. Chester took a step back from Isabel.
Her outfit reflected the overcast day outside. The gray blouse she donned boasted pencil-thin navy stripes and was paired with a somber black skirt. A wide velvet belt accentuated her slender waist and the flare of her hips. Color heightened, midnight eyes churning with displeasure, he knew her greeting was too good to be true.
She clasped and unclasped her hands at her waist. “I need to speak to you about a private matter.”
“Good thing I stopped in. I have business to discuss with you, as well.”
Ben greeted the men, drawing them into a conversation about a big building project they were supplying lumber for in a neighboring town. With Myron and Chester distracted, Isabel was able to work unhindered. When the pair had taken their leave—though not before goading her with promises to return soon—she rounded on him.
“I should’ve known you’d play the role of valiant hero.”
“And here I thought I was the man you desperately wanted to see.” He flashed his most winning smile.
She didn’t even blink. A sound between a sigh and groan escaped her. Spinning, she stalked to the corner, grabbed a broom and began sweeping the fine white dust that coated the mill’s surfaces.
“Careful. You’re going to whip up clouds of that stuff.” He came as close as he dared. “Care to explain what’s got you hot under the collar?”
Her knuckles were white on the handle. “You spun a yarn, Deputy. A pretty story that only hinted at the truth. It’s like I wasn’t even present in that alleyway.”
“Ah, I see.” Taking off his hat, he gestured to encompass the structure’s spacious interior. “You’re upset that this place isn’t packed wall-to-wall with curious townspeople hankering for the gory details.”
Her lips parted, and her spine lost some of its starch. “The reason you didn’t include me was to shield me from gossip?” Her tone insinuated he was incapable of such insight.
“You despise being the center of attention. I figured you’d thank me.” He adopted an innocent grin.
Her brow became pinched, and her chest expanded on a deep inhale. Apparently, his charms were ineffective where Isabel Flores was concerned. He didn’t completely mind. It was refreshing to be in the company of a woman who wasn’t trying to finagle a marriage proposal from him.
“That’s not the only reason,” he continued. “I figured leaving you out of the narrative would help in protecting you from our criminal.”
“Hmm.” Head bent, she began sweeping at a more sedate pace.
His expectations of gratitude evaporated. He peered out the window. “You haven’t had any suspicious activity, have you?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Good.” Leaning against the window ledge, he cradled his sore arm against his chest and watched her work. “I sent telegrams to the surrounding towns. If anyone has information on our man, they’ll contact us.”
Sheriff Timmons deserved a holiday with his family. Still, Ben could’ve used some assistance in this matter. He respected the older, more experienced lawman and had patterned his methods after Shane since arriving in Gatlinburg.
“Did you pass the night on the bank floor?”
“In one of the leather chairs, actually. Much more comfortable.”
She looked up, her dark gaze raking him from head to toe. Unlike others, she didn’t gaze upon him with manufactured adoration. Isabel was incapable of false feeling. She was a straight shooter. He liked that about her.
You like many more things about her, a warning voice inside knelled.
He suppressed the pointed reminder that he wasn’t meant for marriage and family. Dwelling on it only served to arouse dissatisfaction and, if not kept in check, regret that painted his days with a gray film. Better to focus on the many blessings God had bestowed upon him.
“And did you visit Doc Owens?”
“First thing this morning. He praised your handiwork, Nurse Flores, as I knew he would.”
A becoming blush tinted her cheeks. “Just be sure to keep it clean and dry so you don’t negate my efforts,” she said pertly.
He pushed off the wall and inclined his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Was there anything else?” She raised her eyebrows. “Because I have work to do.”
“Do the Gallatins frequently give you trouble? When I walked in, you looked about five seconds away from wielding your dagger.”
“They’re more of an annoyance than anything.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I can take care of myself. My sisters and I have been on our own for nearly two years and have managed just fine.”
“I admire your grit.” He also admired her dogged commitment to her siblings and their livelihood. Her spunk. Plainspoken manner. Her courage. The list went on. “About what happened last night—”
“I’m fine, Deputy. Truly.”
“That’s what I thought after my first brush with violence. In the coming days and weeks, you may have nightmares. You might feel jumpy, even frightened for no reason at all. It’s important you talk to someone.” At the instant refusal forming on her lips, he wagged his index finger. “Doesn’t have to be me. You could wait and speak to Shane when he returns next month. Or I could round up a woman who’s experienced similar circumstances. The point is, you’re not alone.”
Her inner struggle was evident. “Thank you,” she finally allowed. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
With no other excuse to linger, Ben bade her goodbye, his thoughts lingering on the beautiful miller for a long while after. He spent the afternoon informing Main Street’s business owners of the need to be cautious. The thief had one of two choices, either accept his failure here and move on, or bide his time and try again. They had to be prepared for him to choose the latter.
Having been invited to dine with his good friends the Parkers, he arrived anticipating a pleasant evening in their company. A former US marshal, Grant Parker understood the rigors of Ben’s profession. His wife, Jessica, was part of the O’Malley clan, two large families who’d resided in the Smoky Mountains for decades. The redheaded beauty was sharp as a tack and outspoken. She was one of a handful of women, including Shane’s wife, Allison, and the Plum Café owner’s wife, Ellie, who openly took him to task over his heartbreaker reputation.
