Her Cowboy Sheriff

“He’s doing a good job, shows up on time and he’s saving his pay to buy a new truck.” Grey rapped a knuckle against the roof, as if a judge had gaveled the court to order. “One more thing—what’s going on with Annabelle Foster?”

Finn’s hand clamped around his open door. “Going on?”

“Shadow says Emmie Hartwell got hurt at the park earlier, and you came roaring in, light bar flashing...” He added, “She couldn’t help but notice how fast you responded. The EMTs had everything under control—”

“And I’m sheriff here, as you reminded me. What was I supposed to do, ignore the call?” He couldn’t meet Grey’s eyes. When he’d heard the news, Finn couldn’t get there quick enough. “Stay in my office and push papers around?”

Grey laughed. “No, but seems to me—and Shadow—there might be something else ‘going on.’” He paused. “Annabelle’s a fine person, Finn.”

Finn got into the car, fired up the engine. “If I had a mind to...pursue someone who doesn’t plan on sticking around.” If I wanted to care again.

“That’s one issue,” Grey said, “but if a man were so inclined...”

“I’m not.” Which provoked another memory he’d rather avoid. Not that long ago, before Shadow was married, and thinking he might get out of his shell, Finn had asked her out to dinner. Grey hadn’t liked that at all. Finn slipped the cruiser into gear but Grey hadn’t finished about Annabelle.

He removed his hat, put it back on again. “Maybe not yet,” he said, “but something to think about,” then stepped away from the car as if to close the subject. “And just remember this: there’s nothing better for the inside of a man than the outside of a horse. Old saying,” Grey said with a half smile, “but true.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me,” Finn replied.

CHAPTER SIX (#ufae93a2b-ca2d-5c4d-84a2-3b8dee43deae)

COFFEEPOT IN HAND, Annabelle heard the bell jangle above the diner’s door, and before she could prepare herself Finn walked in. From the look on his face she suspected he wasn’t here to eat.

This couldn’t be good news, and Annabelle didn’t want to hear it.

“You have a minute?” Finn asked.

“Sure.” But do make it brief. She led him through the diner into her office, a cramped space off the hallway that connected the restaurant to the kitchen and had once been a storage closet. It had room enough for a small desk, a hutch above with cubbyholes—Annabelle’s bookkeeping system—and two chairs. She gestured for Finn to sit, but he stayed on his feet. Another bad sign.

At the park that morning he’d barely spoken to her, his attention focused instead on Emmie in her arms. What had happened since then?

Annabelle sank down on her desk chair.

Today Finn wore his usual pressed jeans with a yellow polo shirt that contrasted with his dark hair, his hazel eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses that made him appear both tough and even more handsome. He smelled of fresh air and sunshine. She felt tempted, as Shadow had done, to fan her cheeks.

Finn glanced at her laptop. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your workday,” he said. “How’s Emmie?”

“She took a rare nap, which should have alerted me that she wasn’t feeling well, then woke up with a fever.”

“Could be her body’s reaction to that fall.” He looked at the laptop again. “What’s her temperature?”

“I couldn’t tell. I don’t own a current thermometer.” Annabelle had rooted through the bathroom cabinets but all she’d found was an old glass version that contained dangerous mercury. What if Emmie broke it? Contaminated the room and herself? Another failure on Annabelle’s part. Maybe Emmie had an infection from the scrapes she’d gotten at the playground and the germs had already spread through her system. “She’s with Blossom right now. After we see Sawyer McCord, I’ll stop at the pharmacy to buy one.”

Her face had warmed. Finn looked at the computer a third time, and she turned the machine so he could see its screen. “You didn’t interrupt my work. I’m a sweepstakes junkie. For years I’ve entered contests. This prize would be an all-expense-paid Caribbean cruise.”

“I saw your travel posters at your house.” Finn removed his sunglasses. “Ever win anything?”

“A fifties jukebox.” Annabelle welcomed the safer topic. “For a while I had an unlimited supply of oldies but goodies to play.” She had to smile. “Smaller items, too, over the years. A ‘diamond’ necklace I thought was so expensive I’d need to insure it.” Her mother had said, Didn’t they have anyone else to give it to? “But the necklace turned out to be paste. Oh, and I won a weekend at a spa in New Mexico—including nutritional advice and some sort of cleanse—” she shuddered “—but my parents were ill then so I couldn’t go.” Leave a sick man to take care of himself? her dad had asked. What kind of daughter are you?

“Sorry about the diamonds,” he said.

“I don’t need them.” She took a breath. Better to let him know she wouldn’t be here much longer than to let him see how she felt about him. “I’ll be embarking on a new career very soon. I’ve signed up for a course in Denver.”

His gaze sharpened. “What kind of course?”

“To become certified as an international tour director. I always envied Sierra her job, which as I told you, takes her to different places. At first I thought I’d like to do that, too, but I want even more travel. I want to meet new people, go to all the places I’ve never been.” She went on, “Once the diner is sold, I’ll need a new way to make a living, and this seems perfect.” She paused. “I paid for it the very day Sierra phoned that she wanted to come visit.”

“Sierra’s still in the hospital, Annabelle. I haven’t even tried to ask her about the warrant yet, and I’m sure you haven’t been able to talk to her about Emmie’s long-term care.” He turned the computer around to her again.

Her heart sank. “Sierra’s awake more now and even alert, but when I tried to bring up Missouri, she called you a liar, and accused me of not taking good care of Emmie. That was the end of that.”

Finn’s gaze hardened. “Well, it’s not, and I don’t care what she called me. In my business I have a thick skin. I realize you don’t accept the fact that your cousin has been involved in illegal activity in Missouri, but I’ve talked to the police in St. Louis. Apparently Sierra did steal some money—”

Annabelle stood up. “Just because someone accused her doesn’t mean—”

“—she’s guilty, I know, but she has to answer the charges. And since she’s here in my jurisdiction I’ll have to serve that warrant—which I can’t do until she’s been medically cleared.” Finn leaned over her desk. “Let the system work, Annabelle. If she’s innocent, that will come out in the evidence and I’ll apologize. I wish I could do more to help.”

Annabelle flushed. Her gaze was level with Finn’s yellow shirt, which covered his very masculine chest. “I wasn’t asking for help.”

She could tell he didn’t know how to take that. Finn shifted his weight, his gun belt jangling with the motion, his expression opaque.

He put one hand on the butt of the pistol. “Maybe you should think about your relationship with Sierra. From what you say, she wasn’t exactly grateful to you for taking Emmie. Could be she’s not the person you remember.”

That thought had crossed Annabelle’s mind but she wasn’t ready to condemn her cousin, even when Sierra had all but accused her of neglecting Emmie. Sierra must be in pain. After what had been that near-fatal accident, and with drugs on board, she couldn’t be held accountable for what she’d said. Besides, Sierra knew that Annabelle made an easy target. She had rarely fought back, the story of her life. I stuck up for you...because you didn’t for yourself.

“Not the same person?” Annabelle echoed. “Maybe not, but for now I’m her protector—and Emmie’s. Someone has to believe in Sierra.”

Finn studied the floor. “I have to admire your loyalty.”

“Which you consider to be misplaced.”

He raised his gaze to Annabelle, looking as if he didn’t want to say what came next. “That’s your business. But have you asked yourself the serious questions? What if Sierra stays in that hospital? She’s shown few signs of being able to go home so far. Even if she could, considering that warrant, she might end up in jail. And if you’re gone, what would that mean for Emmie?”

“I haven’t thought that through. The next time I talk to Sierra, I hope to ask her about Emmie’s father. Maybe he could take her and I won’t need to—”

“Maybe you will. Time is short and there’s a three-year-old child to consider here. You can’t just up and leave even if that’s what you want most in this world.”

“You’re saying I’m selfish.”

“I’m saying you need to think of Emmie’s welfare.” This from someone who didn’t have children, but Finn made her feel guilty anyway.

“You sound like Sierra, but I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “I’ll do what’s right for Emmie—and for me.”

Finn put his sunglasses back on, started for the hallway then stopped. “And I’m sure Emmie trusts you to do just that. Sierra, too. Everyone in Barren does, Annabelle, and people rely on you too much. Doesn’t leave you any protection for yourself.” He glanced back over his shoulder, catching her with an astonished look on her face. “But don’t let Emmie down.”

She wasn’t accustomed to validation from anyone—and not from a man who’d also implied she wasn’t doing a very good job. That she didn’t care enough about Emmie. Coming from Finn, rather than Sierra, that hurt even more.

She watched until he disappeared around the corner into the main room of the restaurant, heard him greet the mayor, Harry Barnes, and several ladies who were having a late lunch.