DEMPSEY SAT at the long oak table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. The next moment, he sprang to his feet and began pacing. What, precisely, was he doing here?
“Something wrong?” Sam asked.
His friend and owner of the Gold Nugget Ranch had joined Cliff in the empty kitchen. As recently as last week, a dozen guests would have competed for elbow room at the crowded table. Since completion of the new dining hall, the kitchen belonged solely to the staff.
“I probably shouldn’t bother Scarlett when she’s at work,” Cliff said.
“Don’t worry about it.” Sam nodded at the bouquet of fresh flowers lying on the table. “You asking her to the square dance this weekend?”
“Yeah.” Cliff nodded, wiping his damp palms on his khaki slacks.
As the law in these parts, he’d handled every situation from breaking up fights between drunken wranglers to singlehandedly taking down an armed bank robber to talking a possibly suicidal woman off the cell-phone tower at Grey Rock Point. Yet the prospect of inviting Scarlett McPhee to the dance had him sweating like a pig.
This was hardly their first date. It was, however, their first date after a recent lull. He and Scarlett had started out strong enough but this past week, she’d seemed to lose interest, not returning his calls and sounding distant when they did talk.
Cliff wasn’t sure what to make of it. Could be something simple as her having a case of nerves. Just because he was considering taking their relationship from casual to serious and wanted to test the waters didn’t mean she was, too. He was determined to find out.
“Nothing like waiting till the last minute.” Sam dropped into an empty seat. “The dance is the day after tomorrow.”
Cliff sat across from him. “I wasn’t sure I could get the evening off.” In truth, he’d stalled, doubting the wisdom of showing up unannounced. She may not appreciate it.
If he could go back in time to five minutes ago, he’d head straight to the station rather than call Sam’s wife looking for Scarlett because, par for the course, she hadn’t answered her cell phone.
“It’s none of my business,” Sam said, “but you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
Cliff pushed his cowboy hat back on his head, then took it off and set it on the table. “My aunt Hilda thinks I should get married.”
“It’s a nice state to be in with the right woman. I can vouch for that.”
“She thinks I should get married at the Mega Weekend of Weddings in June.”
“Whoa!” Sam sat back. “Kind of soon, isn’t it? That’s only six weeks away. You and Scarlett haven’t been dating very long.”
“Real soon. Hilda has it in her head the local sheriff marrying will be a big draw. Bring more tourists to town for the event. Registration is only about half of what the town council hoped for.”
Cliff’s aunt not only owned the Paydirt Saloon, Sweetheart’s most popular watering hole, she was also the mayor and a driving force behind the Mega Weekend of Weddings extravaganza.
The town of Sweetheart had a colorful history. It was founded by a pair of young lovers who met on a wagon train passing through. They married in California and returned to Sweetheart to settle down and raise a family. The man promptly discovered gold in the nearby mountains, and the town experienced its first boom.
Around the turn of the twentieth century, young couples began eloping to Sweetheart, their marriages officiated by a judge who didn’t inquire too deeply into a person’s age. The surrounding natural beauty drew tourists and outdoor recreationists, eager to hike, fish, horseback ride and, during the winter months, cross-country ski.
For the past fifty years, until the forest fire last summer nearly destroyed the town, the citizens of Sweetheart had capitalized on the wedding and tourist trade. Most of the local economy had depended on it for their livelihoods. When the tourists stopped coming after the fire, the economy died. Cliff’s aunt, along with Sam and several dedicated others, was leading a fierce fight to restore Sweetheart to its former glory.
“She also thinks it will help with my reelection this fall,” Cliff continued. “Hers, too. Not that anyone would run against her.”
“You, either.”
Sam had a point. A Dempsey had held the office of sheriff since the 1860s. It was a long-standing tradition the citizens were more than happy to continue.
“The mayor may be right, however.” Sam sipped at his coffee. “You could be a draw. But is that any reason to get married? It’s a huge step. Are you even in love with Scarlett?”
“No. But I like her. She’s fun. Pretty. Smart. Good with kids.”
“You sound like you’re picking her out of a catalog. Might be why you’re jumpier than a toad on a hot sidewalk.”
Cliff had to laugh. “Rest assured, I’m not asking her to marry me or even considering it. My aunt will have to come up with another gimmick.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“But I’d like to see where things go with Scarlett. Test our potential.”
Cliff had another, more personal reason for pursuing Scarlett he didn’t share with his friend. He was a family man without a family of his own. A homebody without a full house to come home to. Last summer, he’d moved his newly divorced cousin Maeve back to Sweetheart and was now helping to raise her brood of three. His involvement with them served to emphasize how empty his personal life had become.
With the town’s population of roughly one thousand, there weren’t a lot of available women for Cliff to choose from. His job, the long hours and potential for danger, required an understanding wife, which narrowed the field even more. Scarlett McPhee, new to town, was a definite prospect.
Sam stood and clapped Cliff on the shoulder. “Take it from me, don’t rush into anything. I married the first time for the wrong reasons, and we spent a lot of years making each other miserable.”
At that moment, Sam’s new wife Annie entered the kitchen. Cliff watched his friend’s eyes light up and his smile grow wide. That never happened when Cliff looked at Scarlett. At least, not to the same degree.
It could, though. They might fall in love. Eventually.
Scarlett walked in behind Annie. Cliff ran a hand through his hair and did his best to flash her a smile as wide as his friend’s. It froze, then waned. Judging by her wary expression, she wasn’t at all happy to see him.
Damn. What was going on with her?
Annie greeted him with a warm, “Morning, Cliff,” then winked at her husband. “Let’s get out of here and leave these two alone.”
Sam hesitated, his brows raised in question. Cliff shook his head. He didn’t need backup. If he was going down in flames, he preferred to do it without an audience.
Once they were alone, he waited for Scarlett to speak. After a lengthy and awkward pause, he muttered, “Hey.”
