Single Father Sheriff

After locking up, she slid into her aunt’s old truck and trundled down the drive to the main road. The lush forest hugged the asphalt on either side, the leaves still dripping moisture from the rain shower an hour ago.

The brakes on the truck had seen better days, and Kendall mentally added the sale of the vehicle to her list of to-do items. There had to be some local kids who wanted to practice their auto shop skills on an old beater.

She drove the few miles on slick roads and pulled behind a line of cars already parked on the street in front of Melissa’s house—Melissa and Daryl’s house. Daryl had come to Timberline almost two years ago to take a job with Evergreen Software and had fallen for a local girl. Melissa had never left Timberline since she’d had to take care of her mom who’d had Parkinson’s disease. She’d found her prince charming anyway, in the form of a software engineer.

As she ground the gear shift into Park, Kendall winced. Anyone interested in this truck had better be a good mechanic.

She jumped from the truck and wrapped her shawl around her body as she headed up the pathway to the house. Warm lights shimmered from the windows and smoke puffed from the chimney.

She knocked on the door, tucking the bottle of cabernet under one arm.

A man—presumably Daryl—opened the front door and broke into an immediate smile. “You must be Kendall.”

“I am.” She stuck out her hand. “And you must be Daryl.”

Taking her hand, he pulled her over the threshold. “Honey, Kendall’s here.”

Kendall’s gaze shifted over his shoulder to the living room, and her fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as several pairs of eyes focused on her. The few friends Melissa had mentioned looked like a full-scale party, and it seemed like she’d just interrupted their conversation.

She rolled her shoulders. She liked parties. She liked conversations—some topics better than others.

“I brought sustenance.” Kendall held up the bottle of wine.

“We can always use more alcohol.” Melissa broke away from a couple and approached Kendall, holding out her hands. “So good to see you, Kendall.”

Kendall hooked her friend in a one-armed hug. “Same. You look great.”

“And you look—” Melissa held her at arm’s length “—tan. I’m so jealous. I’m as pale as ever.”

“What do you expect when the sun shines maybe three times a year, if you’re lucky?” Kendall jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the damp outdoors.

“She’s dissing our lovely, wet, depressing weather.” Melissa held up the bottle to read the label. “But she’s not snobby enough to dis our local wineries.”

As Melissa peeled away from her side to put the wine in the kitchen, Kendall stepped down into the living room. She waved and nodded to a few familiar faces, shrugging off her shawl.

Melissa materialized behind her, a glass of wine in one hand. “This isn’t yours. Is merlot okay?”

“Fine. The other stuff’s for you and Daryl to drink later.”

“Thanks. Let me take your shawl. We keep it warm in here.” Daryl joined them, and Melissa patted her husband’s arm. “Daryl’s a transplant from LA. After two years, he’s still not acclimated.”

“Has my scatterbrained wife introduced you to everyone?” He went around the room, calling out names Kendall forgot two seconds later, until he named everyone there.

Melissa started carrying dishes to the dining room table, and Kendall broke away from the small talk to help her. The other guests’ conversation had seemed guarded, anyway, and she’d bet anything they’d been talking about the kidnappings before her arrival.

Joining Melissa in the kitchen, she tapped a Crock-Pot of bubbling chili sitting on the kitchen counter. “Do you want this on the table, or are you going to leave it here?”

“You can put that on the table next to the grated cheese and diced onions.”

Kendall hoisted the pot by its handles and inhaled the spicy aroma. “Mmm, this has to be your mom’s recipe.”

“It is.” She patted the dining room table. “Right here.”

Kendall placed the Crock-Pot on the tablecloth and removed the lid. “What else?”

“Can you help me scoop some tapenade and salsa and some other goodies into little serving dishes?”

“Absolutely, as long as I can sample while I’m scooping.” Kendall pulled a small bowl toward herself and plopped a spoonful of guacamole in the center. “I like Daryl.”

“Yeah, he’s an uptight programmer—just perfect for his flaky, artsy-fartsy wife.”

“Opposites do attract sometimes. He’s a good balance for you.”

“And what about you?” Melissa pinched her arm. “Any hot guys in hot Phoenix?”

“Lots, but nobody in particular. You single gals here in Timberline hit the jackpot when Evergreen Software came to town, didn’t you?”

“It definitely expanded the dating scene, but a lot of the Evergreen employees came with ready-made families. Came to Washington for clean air, clean living, safety. Or at least it was safe until...” Melissa shoved a tapenade-topped cracker into her mouth.

“I know all about the recent kidnappings, Melissa.” She scraped the rest of the guac into the bowl. “Wyatt Carson dropped by today and so did Sheriff Sloane.”

“Coop already talked to you?”

“He came by the house this afternoon.”

“Talk about your hot property.” Melissa licked her fingers.

“He is definitely hot.” Kendall elbowed her friend in the ribs. “I’d like to see him without all that khaki covering everything up.”

“Ladies? Need any help?”

Kendall’s face burned hotter than the salsa she was dumping into the bowl. She didn’t have to turn around to know who’d crept up behind them. She’d been listening to that low-pitched, smooth voice all afternoon.

“Hey, Coop. Glad you could make it.” Melissa nudged Kendall’s foot with her bare toes. “Have you met Kendall Rush yet?”

Kendall got very busy wiping salsa spills from the counter as she glanced over her shoulder, trying not to zone in on the way the man’s waffle knit shirt stretched across his broad chest. “We met this afternoon. Hello again, Sheriff Sloane.”

“I thought we were on a first-name basis. Call me Coop.”

He entered the kitchen with a few steps and, even though he still must’ve been yards behind her, it felt like he was breathing down her neck.

“Do you need any help in here, Melissa?”

“I do not. We have it all under control.” She tapped Kendall’s arm. “My hands are goopy. Can you grab a cold beer for Coop from the fridge?”

Kendall shuffled over a few steps and yanked open the refrigerator. “What kind would you like?”

“Anything in a bottle, not a can. Surprise me.”