Sheriff Takes A Bride

скачать книгу бесплатно


Granny rinsed the raspberries Hallie and Cam had picked. A plump young chicken stewed on the stove, while Hallie prepared a salad of greens from the garden.

“An answer, Granny,” she repeated when the old woman clamped her mouth into a thin stubborn line. “Did Cam find a still on this property?”

Granny raised her chin. “Says he did.”

“I know what he said. Is it true?”

“Maybe ‘tiz, maybe ’taint.” Granny stirred the rich berries into the cobbler, popped the pan into her relic of an oven and wiped her hands on her apron as if she were done with the conversation, as well as the cobbler.

The woman could be exasperating to say the least.

“You’re not going to answer me, are you?” Hallie said, finishing with the salad. She set the bowl on the small dining table, then turned and glowered at her kitchen companion.

“What was the question?”

What indeed. Granny could fake a sudden case of forgetfulness faster than anyone Hallie knew. “So that’s the way you’re going to play this. Okay...” She raised her hands in a show of defeat “If you won’t talk to me, you can just talk to the sheriff when he returns.”

Granny snorted. “That man’s comin’ back here? What fer?”

Maybe to haul Granny back to his iron-barred hotel, Hallie thought dismally. Butting heads with this cantankerous woman was not the way she’d intended to spend her vacation. Neither was dealing with one equally determined sheriff. “He’s coming back here to talk to you—and he won’t be half as patient in getting his answers,” she warned.

At the moment she wouldn’t blame the man if he brought along thumbscrews to use on the old girl.

Supper was eaten in testy silence, neither woman ready to give an inch in their cold war. Hallie wondered just how much patience Cam would have with Granny. She got the feeling he was a strictly by-the-book kind of sheriff. Do the crime and you do the time. That would be Cam. Even if the offender was a little old lady.

He’d come from Chicago, with its big-city problems. And somewhere in that big city he’d decided it was safer not to be too trusting—of anyone. Life had made him wary.

Perhaps because life had done the same for Hallie, she could recognize it.

But she didn’t want to doubt Granny Pearl. Her grandmother was the one she’d always believed in, the one who had always loved her, would always love her.

Hallie washed up the last of the supper dishes and tried not to think about the man who would be returning here tonight Cam Osbome made her nervous—and not just because of Granny Pearl. He made her nervous on some feminine level. He was just too good-looking, too...male for a woman’s own good.

She rubbed her temples. A headache had begun to throb. But she wasn’t sure she could blame that entirely on Cam. Granny Pearl had every bit as much to do with her present state of anxiety.

The disturbance in town proved to be minor. Two high school kids fighting over a girl. Cam had separated the boys, given them a strong talking-to, then called their respective parents to take them home.

The girl they were feuding over was a pretty one. Nearly as pretty as Hallie Cates, he thought, comparing. How could he blame the two for going head-to-head over a good-looking female? Hell, he’d probably do the same.

Over Hallie?

Yeah, over Hallie, he admitted with grim reluctance.

When had his hormones taken this turn? he wanted to know.

When he’d first laid eyes on the woman, that’s when.

Cam let out a solitary oath as his Jeep raced along the dusty back roads. He had no business thinking of Hallie in any regard except as Pearl’s granddaughter, Pearl’s granddaughter who would soon be returning to Fort Worth.

If there was one thing Cam had learned back in Chicago it was to keep a safe distance from the gentler sex. Gentler? He scoffed. Elise had been far from “gentler” as it turned out. His former wife had taken him for one helluva ride—and Cam had no intention of ever getting on that train again.

If he were wise he’d get this interrogation of Pearl over with—and fast—then get on back to town. Maybe he could find a poker game, drink a few beers, and hope that when he fell asleep he didn’t dream of one fiery-tempered redhead.

He saw Hallie and Granny Pearl sitting on the porch enjoying the cool evening air when he pulled into the drive. Granny Pearl lit out as soon as she spotted him, taking off through the yard, no doubt with the trumped-up notion of communing with those goats of hers.

The old girl was going to be contrary—but then, Cam hadn’t expected anything else.

He waved to Hallie and unlatched the gate.

“Hello, Cam,” she said as he neared the porch.

His libido bucked just hearing his name roll off that pretty tongue of hers. Her hair was tucked up and held in place with a tortoiseshell comb of sorts, but small, wispy tendrils escaped here and there and teased at the blush on her cheeks.

She’d changed into a pair of white shorts that made her legs look a good mile longer than they already were, and all too shapely for his peace of mind. The top she wore was a pretty shade of mint—and made her green eyes look big and wide in the evening twilight. If he’d ever wanted to touch a woman, it was this woman... at this moment.

He jammed his hands deep into his pockets where they wouldn’t be tempted to follow any wayward path. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, indicating the wicker porch chair Granny had vacated. “It looks as if I might have to wait the old girl out.”

“Be my guest, but it may be a long wait Granny, uh, doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Cam let a half smile curl at the edge of his mouth. “Yeah. well, she’s going to have to sometime.”

Hallie tucked one leg up under her and turned toward Cam. “I tried to get something out of her myself after you left, but I didn’t have much luck, I’m afraid. You’re not going to threaten her with jail again, are you?”

Cam gave her a long, considering glance. In addition to the defiant set of her chin there was an edge of worry to her demeanor. Hallie cared about Granny Pearl.

He tunneled his fingers through his hair and studied the deepening shadows in the yard, wishing Pearl would come clean—and give up this moonshine nonsense, save him a whole lot of headaches. “You got any better suggestions?”

Hallie didn’t, short of the thumbscrews she’d considered earlier. With the firm jut of Cam’s jaw she didn’t think she should suggest any such possibility. He looked just perturbed enough with Granny to go for it.

Tonight, as before, he was dressed casually, this time in jeans and a white, polo-style shirt that contrasted with his outdoorsy tan. No uniform. Probably saved them for hauling in the tough guys, real fugitives, she thought. With Granny it was the “folksy” approach—not that Hallie suspected it would gain him anything with the old girl. When Granny made up her mind not to talk, she wouldn’t talk.

“Well, if you’re determined to wait her out, how about a dish of cobbler? It could be a long night, Sheriff.”

“With raspberries?” His mood quickly brightened. Enormously. Suddenly he didn’t seem to mind how long the little standoff took.

“With raspberries,” she admitted.

Hallie just wished she didn’t feel so much like a traitor offering Granny’s lovely dessert to the other side. Granny herself had been about to indulge before Cam drove up. Now she was out there in her big yard somewhere, swallowed up by the darkness. But then—that was her choice. She could have stuck around and answered Cam’s questions like a sane, sensible woman. Instead she’d left Hallie to deal with the man.

How could Granny have gotten herself—and Hallie—into such a plight?

“I’ll go get that cobbler. Don’t go anywhere,” she quipped, as if Cam had the slightest intention of moving off the porch anytime tonight.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” he answered with a low chuckle.

Hallie swallowed a groan. Didn’t he have anyone from the Most Wanted list to apprehend? She disappeared inside, letting the door bang behind her.

Cam watched her go—enjoying that enticing little wiggle to her hips—before settling back in the porch chair to relax. This job was beginning to offer a few rewards. He could sit back, look up at the emerging stars and let his suspect come to him. He even had one pretty woman to keep him company while he waited.

There was a problem or two, however, with his scenario.

Granny wouldn’t voluntarily come out of hiding—and he didn’t relish bucking George and Myrtle to go and get her. Also, he found Hallie far too tempting for his own good.

Everything about the woman told him he’d better hold onto his good sense. He didn’t need to go off the deep end over some female, not when he was finally beginning to find himself again, to sort through his anger—and his mistrust—and get on with life, such as it was.