don’t go getting any ideas,” Duke said. “It’s well-known that the Carmines married very young.”
“Her words are food for thought, though,” Liberty said.
“Try a diet,” Duke said. “Some foods aren’t healthy for you.”
Liberty got in the truck. “Then again, sometimes the food you like most is the least healthy for you.”
He turned to look at her before grabbing her shoulders and kissing her hard. “How’s that for an appetizer?” he asked after he’d thoroughly ravaged her mouth.
She raised her chin and gave him a haughty look. “So good I prefer to skip the main course.”
He rammed his hat down on his head, not sure what to say to that. What was wrong with her? Women didn’t push him away as hard as Liberty was doing. Driving down the hill into the back pasture, he considered his options where Liberty was concerned.
He didn’t appear to have many.
“Duke, when do you run for reelection?”
The change of subject startled him. “I don’t really run. No one else wants the job. I’ve always been a shoo-in.”
“When does that happen?”
“I suppose the elections are this month. I hadn’t really thought about it.” He began to scan the landscape for Bug. “You look on that side, I’ll look over here.”
He thought about her question and idly wondered what had brought her back to town. “Are you running?”
She looked at him. “From you?”
“For sheriff,” he stated flatly, his jaw tightening. Did she have to bring that up again?
“Oh, no. I heard your brother Zach was. Then I heard your sister Pepper was, but that’s silly. Pepper’s not here.”
His jaw untightened and went slack. “Where did you hear that?”
“At the saloon.”
“They haven’t told me.”
“Actually, what I think I heard is that the ladies have decided to petition them onto the ballot.”
“The ladies?” Duke demanded. “By that you mean the little group that’s constantly scheming.” He was slightly hurt, he had to admit. The “ladies” always conspired against him, but it was usually in a somewhat delightful spirit that he indulged. They were, after all, much older than he and deserved his respect.
But petitioning his siblings onto a ballot to run against him didn’t sound like something he cared to indulge. He kept looking for Bug, trying to ignore the hammering in his heart.
“All the ladies,” she clarified. “At least the ones who were in attendance at today’s Ladies Only Day.”
“I knew that was a bad idea. If the men had been there, the gang would have been soundly overruled.” He scratched his chin, aware that he was beginning to sound truculent. He softened his tone. “You still haven’t told me what you were doing wearing the dress you were supposed to wear to our wedding. I have fond memories of you trying it on and letting me button those tiny little buttons.”
He had taken his sweet time doing so, enjoying touching her and looking down at her bare shoulders. She was the smoothest, softest thing he’d ever seen.
“The ladies were trying to convince me that it was a good idea to marry you,” Liberty said. “I had a weak moment.”
“Ouch.”
“No! I didn’t mean that. I meant that I allowed them to coerce me into trying it on.” She put a hand on his arm. “Duke, it wasn’t you as much as it was me, really and truly.”
“You spend too much time around women, listening to them gripe about their men,” he said gruffly, “and it scared you.”
“No, frankly just the thought of marrying you spooked me.” She sighed. “You can’t blame them. I had my own doubts.”
“I’m not so terrible,” he complained.
She turned away. “You’ll be wonderful for the right woman.”
“You are the right woman!” he roared. “Or at least you would be if you’d act right.”
“Duke,” she said, “we’d end up like the Carmines.”
“Only you’d be the one running off. Even Mrs. Carmine said I’m stalwart.” He was proud of that. “By the way, you still look good enough to eat in that dress. It always reminds me of a big, fluffy piece of Ms. Pansy’s divinity when I see you in it.”
“Ugh. I’m not sure that’s what it was supposed to evoke.”
“I like dessert, so the dress was perfect, in my opinion.”
“There he is,” Liberty said, pointing.
Duke slowed the truck as he saw the old man sitting propped against a tree, watching ducks fly overhead. His rifle was on the ground next to him but the elderly man didn’t have a hand on it. He appeared to be watching the wedge of ducks as they flew, perfectly content to enjoy the silence and the heat of the day. “He doesn’t look ready to go home.”
“You tell him,” Liberty said. “I’m not in a position to tell someone they should return home.”
“You got that right,” Duke said, “and I might remind you, based on the popular opinion of my stalwartness, you should tell your lady friends that their idea to write Zach and Pepper into the ballot hurt my feelings.”
Liberty laughed. Then she saw the seriousness of his face as he parked the truck. “Did it really?”
“Yes, damn it.” He switched off the engine, keeping an eye on Mr. Carmine. “How would you feel if you knew all your townfolk that you’d sworn to serve and protect were always conspiring against you?”
“It’s not actually against you,” Liberty said, but Duke waved her comforting words aside.
“Sure it is. They’ve got some bee in their bonnets over something. Like I haven’t given in to them enough. They wanted to change the name of the town to reflect the Dutch ancestry of the settlers, so I agreed. They wanted to change the name of a perfectly good establishment to make it more of a tourist attraction, and I agreed to that, with great reservation. Now they’re trying to run me out by writing in my siblings’ names—one of whom hasn’t been here in a year—with their little wizened hands. Judases!” He frowned. “Or would that be Jezebels?”
“Oh, gosh.” Liberty got out of the truck. “Duke, come on. We’ve got a job to do.”
He got out, his heart heavy. What was the matter with all the females in his world? Clearly none of them cared that he was so easy to get along with.
It wasn’t fair.
“Hello,
