The Cowboy Sheriff

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He found a copy of The Poky Little Puppy on the desk, a copy that looked old enough to have been Keri’s when she was little. After he read the book to Hannah, he placed her on his knee, one of her little legs on each side.

“So, you want to be a cowgirl? If so, you’re going to have to learn how to ride a horse.” He began bouncing his leg as he held her firmly at the waist. She laughed as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever experienced.

After a couple of minutes, he noticed Keri standing in the doorway.

“Look, Hannah, it’s your aunt Keri.” He changed his voice to a higher pitch. “Look, Aunt Keri. I’m a cowgirl.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the edges of Keri’s mouth and he found himself willing it to spread, to smooth away the lines of fatigue and sorrow. Then, as if she realized what she’d done, her lips formed a humorless line.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

He considered his answer for a moment before speaking. But then the truth made itself as clear as water. “Because once upon a time we were friends, and I’d like to be again.”

He braced himself for a hot and sharp response, something about that ship having sailed, but it didn’t come. Keri simply stood in the doorway for a few seconds, then turned to head back to work.

He wasn’t about to examine why, but her response made him smile. Despite what he’d told her, he couldn’t really explain this need to help her. Sure, they’d been friends before and the whole deal with Carter was long past due for resolution. But something deep inside told him those weren’t the only reasons he was determined to place himself back in Keri Mehler’s life.

He feared it might have a bit more to do with her long, slim body and chocolate-brown eyes. He was attracted to her, and no one was more surprised than him.

“So, what do you think, Hannah? Think I have a shot?”

Hannah smiled wide again, and he took that as a good sign.

Chapter Four

Keri looked up from replenishing the selection of fruit-filled pastries in the display case and wiped sweat from her forehead. She couldn’t remember the last time the bakery had been so busy, but she was thankful for the nonstop pace of the past couple of hours. It kept her from thinking.

“Okay, I’m headed that way,” Simon said into his handheld radio as he strode through the kitchen.

Judging by the distinct lack of wailing coming from her office, he’d saved her once again. She shook her head, wondering how long it was going to take for her to figure out how to juggle work and caring for Hannah. She couldn’t depend on Simon or anyone else to always be there to lend a hand. Sammi and Ben had left Hannah to her, and only her. Plus, Simon would no doubt wake up one day and remember they weren’t friends anymore.

He paused once he reached the other side of the display case and wiggled his radio. “Duty calls.”

“Anything wrong?”

“Harvey Turpin is off his meds again, waving a gun around. He’s never shot anyone before, but there’s a first time for everything.”

Poor Harvey. He was a nice guy, wrote entertaining slice-of-life pieces for the local paper. But he didn’t like to take the medication prescribed for his wild mood swings, convinced that he was better and didn’t need them.

Simon nodded toward her office. “She’s almost asleep.”

“Thank you, again.”

“Give me one of those crullers and we’ll call it even.”

She couldn’t help but smile. It felt foreign after the past few days, but it felt so good, better than she wanted to admit. Like the boulder permanently sitting atop her chest had lightened a fraction.

When she handed Simon the pastry, his gaze caught hers for a moment. She wasn’t sure what she saw there, but she couldn’t look away. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“Be careful,” she said, suddenly not liking the idea of him being around an unstable guy with a gun.

Something about what she’d said made him smile before he said, “Always,” and headed out the door. She stared after him for a few seconds, breathless. When was the last time Simon had smiled at her?

Before the fiasco with Carter.

Despite her girlhood crush on him, his smile had never stunned her before. And it shouldn’t now, she told herself as she closed the display case.

Getting the feeling that Sunshine was watching her a touch too closely, Keri grabbed the stack of orders below the phone hanging on the wall. “Looks like the holiday season has officially started.”

“Yeah. Seems to begin earlier every year.”

Which was good. It meant demand for the bakery’s mail-order products was increasing. Keri had been working toward that goal ever since she’d assumed the helm of Mehlerhaus. But now she had mixed feelings. On the one hand, the extra income would be useful. On the other hand, she now had a child to raise.

She blinked back tears, forbidding herself to think about Sammi now. Not when she had work up to her eyeballs and hours before she could go home and collapse.

As she flipped through the orders, she wasn’t able to keep herself from thinking about the other side of things. That more orders also meant more demands on her time. Right when she needed to devote it to Hannah.

“Don’t worry,” Sunshine said as she started slicing a pumpkin cake. “We’ll get through it.”

Keri suspected her friend meant more than the busy season.

As Hannah started crying again, she wasn’t so sure.

* * *

HE’D DONE SOME PRETTY dumb things in his time on Earth, but entertaining the idea of making a play for Keri Mehler ranked right up there. Especially now. What kind of lowlife made a move on a woman when she was grieving? Plus, chances were that when she’d had time to adjust to her new reality, she’d go back to ranking him right between slugs and fungus.

He’d already helped her more than either of them could have ever expected. The best thing he could do for her now was to stay away and keep from reminding her of painful losses.

But he’d continue digging around, trying to find Carter for her. Her brother should be here, helping her. No matter what he’d done or where he’d gone, Carter should know about Sammi.

As Simon pulled into Harvey’s driveway, he shifted his thoughts away from Keri and her MIA brother. When he saw Harvey gesturing wildly with a .357, it brought home that now wasn’t the smartest time to be distracted. He parked next to a sprawling live oak behind Jack Fritz’s patrol car and got out very carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was spook Harvey into ventilating anyone, including himself.

“What’s got his knickers in a bunch today?” Simon asked the older deputy.

“You name it— Cowboys losing, politics, price of beer. Pretty much your typical ‘the world’s going to hell in a handbasket’ tirade.”

Simon eyed Harvey where he now sat atop his front steps, ranting about every politician in Austin being a crook.

“You know, I really like Harvey when he’s behaving and taking his meds,” Simon said. “Not so much when he doesn’t and becomes a cantankerous old goat.”

“Our very own Jekyll and Hyde.”

“This was not the day to not have my full supply of morning coffee.” Simon sighed. “Well, might as well get on with the disarming or the shooting.”

Jack grunted. “I’m getting too old for this garbage.”

“Have medical on standby.”

“Already called them. They’re waiting at the end of Rattlesnake Road.”

Simon eased out from behind the car, unsnapping his holster as he moved, and edged slowly up the gentle slope toward the house. “Hey, Harvey. How’s it going?”

“Who’s that?”

“Now, Harvey, you’re going to hurt my feelings. You’ve known me since I was born.”

“Simon?”

“Got it in one.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Came to ask why you’re sitting out here in the cold waving that .357 around. I know there aren’t any rattlesnakes out today.”

“There’s snakes aplenty. They just have two legs.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that. Hope you don’t include me in that category.”

Harvey seemed to think about that for a moment longer than Simon would have liked, and he resisted the urge to place his palm atop his sidearm.

“Nah, you’re a good sort,” Harvey finally said, allowing Simon to breathe a smidge easier.

“You are, too, Harvey. But you do tend to make people nervous when you’re waving a gun around.”

Harvey looked at the gun in his hand as if he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why it was there.

“How about you set that gun down and we’ll talk about what’s bothering you?”

Harvey lowered the gun, then hesitated, twisting it in his hand to examine it, before placing it on the porch beside his right hip. “Ah, hell, I’m in trouble again, aren’t I?”

“You haven’t hurt anyone, and you’re on your own property, but I do need you to go to the hospital and get your medication back in order.”

Harvey grimaced. “That stuff makes me feel like I’ve got cotton for brains.”

“I’m sorry about that, but it keeps you from scaring the neighbors and maybe hurting someone. You don’t want to hurt anyone, do you?”