Patricia Thayer - Her Colorado Sheriff

Chapter Two

The next morning, Shelby packed their suitcases. No matter what happened today, they weren’t going to be staying in the farmhouse.

By ten o’clock, Ryan had been fed his usual bowl of Cheerios and they headed into town. Shelby parked her compact car off Main Street and eyed the storefront building, the B&B Café.

Should she go in and see about the job? She glanced in the backseat and saw Ryan busy with his picture album. He kept looking at his mother’s photo. She had no way to explain to the boy about the evil of some people. How they could take another life.

“Look, Ryan, we’re going to go inside so I can see about getting a job.”

“Mama worked. She worked at my school.”

“That’s right, sweetie. She was a teacher.”

“She was going to teach me, too.” He blinked really fast. “Now, she’s in heaven with Daddy.”

“Yes, she is, and he’s going to take care of her forever and ever.” Shelby had trouble holding back the tears. “So don’t worry about her.”

Shelby got out of the car, went to the backseat and helped Ryan out, too. They walked into the café, and she opened the glass door. Here goes. She released a breath, hoping to relax a little.

Inside, Shelby looked around and decided she liked the down-home atmosphere. Several gingham-checked-cloth-covered tables were situated on a black-and-white-tiled floor, and black leather padded booths ran along the wall under the windows. There were pictures of the area’s skiing and hiking trails, and many just of the beautiful Colorado scenery.

A slight woman about fifty-five came out of the back. She had short gray hair, warm brown eyes and a big smile. “I’m thinking you might be Shelby Townsend.” She smiled down at the boy. “You must be Ryan.”

Her nephew hid behind her. “Yes, I’m Shelby.” So the sheriff had been here.

“Welcome to town, I’m Bess Cummings. My husband, Bill, and I own this restaurant and the catering business next door.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cummings.”

“Please, call me Bess.”

Shelby nodded. “I’m told that you might possibly be looking for some help in the restaurant.”

“Could be. We’re overworked, especially when the wedding season begins in a month or so. It’s hard to run both sides of our business. Oh, pardon my manners.” She motioned to the end booth. “Please, go have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Bess looked at Ryan. “How about some pancakes with fruit? Some strawberries?”

The child’s eyes rounded and he looked at Shelby, and she nodded. “That would be nice.”

Bess went into the kitchen and returned with two mugs of coffee and a small glass of milk. “I hope this is okay.”

“Yes, thank you, milk is fine.”

She got Ryan situated with his photo book. “You picked a good time to come in with the breakfast crowd already gone.” The door opened and two customers walked in. “That always happens.”

A large gentleman came out of the back as two men sat down at the counter. He filled their coffee mugs, then took their orders. “That’s Bill. I’ll introduce you later.” She looked at her. “I hear you’re a chef.”

The sheriff again? “Yes, I graduated from culinary school in Louisville, Kentucky.” She pulled out her folded résumé from her purse. “Here are some of the places I worked.”

Bess read over the paper. “I’m impressed. A sous-chef, huh?”

“I just recently moved in to the position when I left town.”

“May I ask why you left the restaurant?”

How much should she say? “My sister and nephew were moving here, and they’re my only family so I decided to come with them.” She glanced at Ryan and lowered her voice. “My sister passed away unexpectedly. So now I’m Ryan’s only family.”

Bess’s hand touched her heart. “I am so sorry for your loss.” She looked at Ryan, showing her sorrow. “If there is anything I can do... Of course there is.” She looked over the résumé again. “How would you like to work for Bill and me? We’re not fancy, and we can’t offer you full time yet, but I am curious to see your ideas for our catering business. Our May and June is nearly booked with weddings, so maybe you can add some new items for our menu.”

“Really? You want me to help with catering?”

She nodded. “That’s when Bill and I really get overwhelmed, and we’re too old to run around like that. So if you don’t mind working at the restaurant and cooking hamburgers in between a few specialties...”

Wow, she was being offered a job. Did she dare take it? “Of course not. I mean, I can cook a hamburger.”

Bess smiled. “Good, because your help would be wonderful, especially with your skill level. I doubt we can pay you what you’re worth, but there are good tips working here, and especially in the catering. So if you can deal with that, you’re hired.”

“Sounds fine to me. Thank you, I’ll take the job.”

Bess grinned, then turned to her husband. “Bill, get over here and meet our new waitress.”

* * *

NEARLY TWO HOURS LATER, Shelby drove back to the ranch, excited she had accepted the job. A good one and she had to take it. Step one was taken care of with her getting the job. Now her biggest concern was Ryan. He’d had enough changes in his life already, so she couldn’t just drop him off for a stranger to watch him.

Georgia had been adamant about her son’s special care. She was an overprotective mother, but with good reason. Ryan had lost his father, Lieutenant Joshua Hughes, while he’d been deployed in Afghanistan three years ago. Ryan never really knew him. Now his mother was gone, too.

Since Georgia’s murder, Shelby didn’t know whom to trust. Her thoughts turned to Sheriff Brannigan. The law was supposed to help you, but she’d learned that wasn’t always the case.

She pulled into the driveway and saw the sheriff’s car along with the familiar oversize black truck parked around the side of the house.

“Aunt Shellie, who’s here?” Ryan said, with fear in his voice.

“It’s okay, Ryan. Looks like Sheriff Brannigan and Mr. Landry.”

So the family was here to make sure she was moved out. What was she going to do now? She needed to figure out a place to stay. Maybe a small apartment, but her money was limited until she got her first paycheck. It would take everything she had to get together the first and last months’ rent, and she wasn’t sure if this job would work out here. Maybe she could find something that she could pay week to week. The savings Shelby had planned on, a lot had been spent on Georgia’s burial. So this job was all Shelby had.

She climbed out of the car, helped Ryan from his safety seat in back, then they walked the single step of the guesthouse porch. The door was open, and voices reached her before she saw anyone.

She hated to interrupt. “Hello, is anyone here?” she called out.

Soon a tall blonde woman appeared. “Hi, you must be Shelby.” Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled. “I’m Brooke, Trent’s wife.” She looked at Ryan. “And you’re Ryan. My niece, Addy, is about your age.”

The boy looked at his aunt and then smiled at the woman.

Shelby held out her hand and shook hers. “It’s nice to meet you, Brooke. I apologize for invading your house last night.”

“Not your fault.” Brooke waved her arm. “Trent talked with Jake Donaldson this morning, and he feels terrible about the mix-up. I hope the guys didn’t frighten you too much.”

After her dealings with Gil and his police buddies, the sheriff and Trent Landry were sweethearts. “No, they were very considerate about the situation.”

“Well, please come inside. The Donaldsons were great tenants, but still the house needs a good cleaning.”