The Sheriff With The Wyoming-Size Heart

“We’ll talk about it at home,” the man interjected.

Putting her hand on her father’s face, Ariel pulled it around to make him look at her. “She’s nice, Daddy.”

The man stopped to unlatch the gate. “You know the rules, Scooter. You stay at the school until someone picks you up.”

“Daddy—”

“No exceptions.”

Shooting Margo one last piercing glance, Ariel’s father carried the little girl across the back alley. He opened a gate into the yard immediately behind hers.

Only when they’d disappeared inside their house did Margo’s legs collapse under her. She crumpled onto the ground, right where she’d sat in blissful ignorance and enjoyed his daughter’s company. God. A cop. The sheriff to be precise. And she’d ripped into him without the slightest concern for the consequences.

Damn. Hadn’t she worked for years to overcome her old tendency to let passion rule her actions? Hadn’t she identified when and where she was most susceptible? Hadn’t she made a science of the self-control she longed to have?

Obviously she’d met with so little challenge these past few years that the new concept of herself had never been tested. Until now. Today a flash flood of emotions had washed toward her and her dam of self-protection had given way.

Closing her eyes, she dragged deep calming breaths into her lungs and tried to imagine how it had looked through the cop’s eyes. Her anger had been out of concern for his child. Maybe that was all he’d see. Maybe he’d even appreciate Margo. for her concern when he had a chance to think about it. Maybe everything was okay.

She’d done nothing she couldn’t defend, said nothing she regretted. She had to believe she hadn’t put her new life at risk.

She had a new start in a new town where no one knew her or her past. She had a new identity that would give her the freedom to be a regular citizen and have normal relationships. She had a career, writing to her heart’s content, creating worlds, characters, crises, and above all, happy endings.

Riley’s concern for Ariel’s safety didn’t evaporate just because he had her safe in his arms. The three weeks since he’d lost his housekeeper hadn’t gone smoothly, but he’d managed. Evenings and weekends he had a list of teenagers to choose from. During the day, when he couldn’t get to the school himself, someone had filled in for him.

Today he’d been a little late, but it wasn’t the first time. And until today Ariel had always persuaded a friend or two to stay and play with her while she waited. Finding her gone, he’d put out an alert and within minutes all his deputies and most of his staff were looking for her. His whole available force. And the entire time, she was practically in their own backyard. He’d hear about this one for a while.

With Ariel still in his arms, he picked up the phone to have Liz send out the word she was okay.

“Daddy, we need to feed Jelly. Can we give him tuna fish?”

“You want to reward him for running away?”

“Oh, Daddy.”

Ariel squirmed, so Riley let her slide to the floor while he placed the call. The dispatcher’s relief told him Ariel would be the queen of the station after causing such a stir. Speak of reinforcing unacceptable behavior. Resigned, he hung up and turned to Ariel.

At five, she went her own way so engagingly he found it difficult to be strict with her. And he was her father. Everyone else catered to her as if she were royalty.

“So do I spank you, or send you to bed without dinner, or ground you for the rest of your life?”

She giggled and his stomach clenched. “It’s not funny, Ariel. I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour, and so have a lot of other people. We worry about you.”

“But, Daddy, I came straight home from school. Clara and James don’t have to wait for someone to pick them up. Why do I have to?”

“Because Clara and James walk together, and they go to Clara’s house, and Clara’s mommy is there waiting for them.”

“It’s not my fault I don’t have a mommy. And when you don’t come, it’s boring at the school.”

Riley swallowed a sigh. He couldn’t refute her logic, and he didn’t know how to instill a sense of caution in her without scaring her to death. “I know, Scooter, but—”

She opened the pantry and got out a can of cat food. “Don’t be mad, Daddy.”

“I’m not mad, Ariel, I’m—”

“Then don’t frown.” She scrunched her face into a glare, held it for about two seconds, then burst into a little giggle.

“Okay, I’m mad. I don’t want you to ever leave the school alone again.”

Ariel only laughed, reminding him far too vividly of Kendra. Once, his wife’s confidence that life held no dangers had captivated him; she’d believed in her own invulnerability and insisted on pushing the edge of the envelope. Two years ago she’d challenged a blizzard, relying on a lifetime of experience with Wyoming roads. But she’d lost control of her car, and he and Ariel had lost her. In his daughter, that same conviction of immunity kept him constantly on edge.

Ariel pushed a chair over to the counter and climbed up to fit the cat-food can into the electric can opener. Her cool competence in the kitchen reminded him how quickly she was growing up, and reinforced his fear.

“Did you hear what I said? I don’t want you wandering around by yourself.”

“okay.”

But the promise came so easily that Riley doubted he’d gotten through to her. It terrified him to think what it would take to instill caution in her. He hated that there were enough mean, angry, scary people out there to make prevention necessary.

Once she had the cat food open, Ariel looked over her shoulder at him. “That lady was nice.”

“Was she?” With effort, Riley pulled himself out of his deep thoughts to reconnect with the present. That lady. Their new neighbor across the alley. He’d thought her both feisty and remote. It would take a meeting when his own emotions weren’t topping the chart to form a real opinion of her temperament.

“Oh, yes,” Ariel continued. “And pretty.”

“Yeah?” More like beautiful, in an exotic sort of way. Her olive skin, dark eyes and black hair indicated a Hispanic or Mediterranean heritage—probably Hispanic, given the Southern inflection of her words. Her fine bones and delicate features gave an impression of fragility that would bring out the protective instinct in any man. Definitely beautiful.

“Yes. And she helped me remember Mommy.”

“Oh, Scooter.” Riley closed the distance between them and cupped her chin tenderly with his palm. The last two years had been tough on them both.

“I sang, ‘Merry Airy, merry, merry, merry, Ariel.”’

He hadn’t heard the familiar tune since Kendra died, but over his daughter’s high little voice, he heard Kendra’s rich alto singing the love ditty she’d made up the day they’d named their baby. Along with Kendra’s voice he could hear her laugh, almost feel her touch.

Unwilling to confront ghosts of the past, he shut the images away. After two years he thought of his wife only when, with a word or a gesture, Ariel brought her suddenly to mind. He didn’t need to start hearing the Airy tune on Ariel’s lips.

Pulling his daughter into his arms, he sat on the chair. She straddled his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Scooter, I know you miss—”

“Now I’m not scared I’ll forget what she looked like.”

“Were you?” Before he could guard against them, a flood of memories poured over him. Almost curiously, he sifted through them, but he couldn’t find a clear image of Kendra’s face. Snatches of conversations, impressions of good times, a whiff of her scent, the feel of her hair, a flash of her smile. But no firm, indelible picture.

Stunned, he stared at Ariel and tried to find Kendra’s face. It wasn’t there.

After two years of trying not to remember, it shocked him to realize he couldn’t.