It wasn’t a patrolman she knew, and she knew most of them by sight at least. This one had black eyes and thick black hair, which he wore in a ponytail. He had a no-nonsense look about him, and he was wearing a badge that denoted him as the assistant chief.
“Miss Brewster?” he asked quietly.
“Y… yes.”
“I’m Cash Grier,” he introduced himself. “I’m the new assistant police chief here.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said with a watery smile. “Sorry it has to be under these circumstances.” She held out both wrists with a sigh. “Want to handcuff me?”
He pursed his lips and his black eyes twinkled unexpectedly. He didn’t look like a man who knew what humor was. “Isn’t that a little kinky for a conversation? What sort of men are you used to?”
She hesitated for just a second before she burst out laughing. He wasn’t at all the man he appeared to be. She put her hands down.
“I was speeding,” she reminded him.
“Yes, you were. But since you don’t have a rap sheet, you can have a warning, just this once,” he added firmly. “The speed limit is posted. It’s fifty on all county roads.”
She peered up at him. “This is a county road?” she emphasized, which meant that he was out of his enforcement area.
Nodding, he grinned. “And you’re right, I don’t have any jurisdiction out here, so that’s why you’re getting a warning and a smile.” The smile faded. “In town, you’ll get a ticket and a heavy scowl. Remember that.”
“I will. Honest.” She wiped at her eyes again. “I got a little upset, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on the road. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“See that you don’t.” His dark eyes narrowed as if in memory. “Accidents are messy. Very messy.”
“Thanks for being so nice.”
He shrugged. “Everybody slips once in a while.”
“That’s exactly what I did…”
“I didn’t mean you,” he interrupted. His lean face took on a faintly dangerous cast. “I’m not nice. Not ever.”
She was intimidated by that expression. “Oh.”
He wagged a finger at her nose. “Don’t speed.”
She put a hand over her heart. “Never again. I promise.”
He nodded, walked elegantly to his squad car and drove toward town. Janie sat quietly for a minute, getting herself back together. Then she started the car and went home, making up an apology for her father about his gloves without telling him the real reason she’d come home without them. He said he’d get a new pair the next day himself, no problem.
Janie cried herself to sleep in a miserable cocoon of shattered dreams.
As luck would have it, Harley Fowler, Cy Parks’s foreman, came by in one of the ranch pickup trucks the very next morning and pulled up to the back door when he saw Janie walk out dressed for riding and wearing a broad-brimmed hat. Harley’s boss Cy did business with Fred Brewster, and Harley was a frequent visitor to the ranch. He and Janie were friendly. They teased and played like two kids when they were together.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Harley said with a grin as he paused just in front of her. “The Cattleman’s Ball is Saturday night and I want to go, but I don’t have a date. I know it’s late to be asking, but how about going with me? Unless you’ve got a date or you’re going with your dad…?” he added.
She grinned back. “I haven’t got a date, and Dad’s away on business and has to miss the ball this year. But I do have a pretty new dress that I’m dying to wear! I’d love to go with you, Harley!”
“Really?” His lean face lit up. He knew Janie was sweet on Leo Hart, but it was rumored that he was avoiding her like measles these days. Harley wasn’t in love with Janie, but he genuinely liked her.
“Really,” Janie replied. “What time will you pick me up?”
“About six-thirty,” he said. “It doesn’t start until seven, but I like to be on time.”
“That makes two of us. I’ll be ready. Thanks, Harley!”
“Thank you!” he said. “See you Saturday.”
He was off in a cloud of dust, waving his hand out the window as he pulled out of the yard. Janie sighed with relief. She wanted nothing more in the world than to go to that dance and show Leo Hart how wrong he was about her chasing him. Harley was young and nice looking. She liked him. She would go and have a good time. Leo would be able to see for himself that he was off the endangered list, and he could make a safe bet that Janie would never go near him again without a weapon! As she considered it, she smiled coldly. Revenge was petty, but after the hurt she’d endured at Leo’s hands, she felt entitled to a little of it. He was never going to forget this party. Never, as long as he lived.
Chapter Three
The annual Jacobsville Cattleman’s Ball was one of the newer social events of the year. It took place the Saturday before Thanksgiving like clockwork. Every cattleman for miles around made it a point to attend, even if he avoided all other social events for the year. The Ballenger brothers, Calhoun and Justin, had just added another facility to their growing feedlot enterprise, and they looked prosperous with their wives in gala attire beside them. The Tremayne brothers, Connal, Evan, Harden, and Donald, and their wives were also in attendance, as were the Hart boys; well, Corrigan, Callaghan, Rey and Leo at least, and their wives. Simon and Tira didn’t attend many local events except the brothers’ annual Christmas party on the ranch.
Also at the ball were Micah Steele, Eb Scott, J. D. Langley, Emmett Deverell, Luke Craig, Guy Fenton, Ted Regan, Jobe Dodd, Tom Walker and their wives. The guest list read like a who’s who of Jacobsville, and there were so many people that the organizers had rented the community center for it. There was a live country-western band, a buffet table that could have fed a platoon of starving men, and enough liquor to drown a herd of horses.
Leo had a highball. Since he hadn’t done much drinking in recent years, his four brothers were giving him strange looks. He didn’t notice. He was feeling so miserable that even a hangover would have been an improvement.
Beside him, Marilee was staring around the room with wide, wary eyes.
“Looking for somebody?” Leo asked absently.
“Yes,” she replied. “Janie said she wasn’t coming, but that isn’t what your sister-in-law Tess just told me.”
“What did she say?”
Marilee looked worried. “Harley Fowler told her he was bringing Janie.”
“Harley?” Leo scowled. Harley Fowler was a courageous young man who’d actually backed up the town’s infamous mercenaries—Eb Scott, Cy Parks and Micah Steele—when they helped law enforcement face down a gang of drug dealers the year before. Harley’s name hadn’t been coupled with any of the local belles, and he was only a working-class
