Ruth Herne - Falling for the Lawman

Berto kicked his boots off, came in and headed for the kitchen sink. He indicated Marty as if they were long-lost best friends. “Me, too. I had to move quickly to pretend to keep up.”

His words put a smile on Marty’s face, a genuine look of pleasure.

“Amazing pancakes.” Zach made the pronouncement as he helped himself to another one. He paused, eyeing Piper’s hand and the uneaten cake. “You haven’t eaten yours.”

“I will.”

“It’s cold.” He swiped hers with an athlete’s dexterity and handed her the hot, buttered cake roll he’d just made. “Eat this one while it’s hot, because I don’t make sacrifices casually.”

She took a bite of the rolled-up pastry and agreed with him on one thing: the tubed cakes were fine cold, but they were melt-in-your-mouth delicious while warm.

But she didn’t buy that he didn’t make sacrifices casually. His job, his presence, the slightly careful attention he paid his father?

She was willing to bet Zach Harrison made casual sacrifices every single day, but was too darn nice to know it.

* * *

Piper moved farther into the town hall conference room that evening, but kept toward the rear purposely. Getting out quick at meeting’s end meant getting home early, always a plus.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” a new but familiar voice offered softly, far too close to her right ear to ignore. “We could have come down together.”

Goose bumps prickled Piper’s arms, and she didn’t have to turn to know who was standing behind her at the crowded bicentennial planning meeting. After meeting him three days ago, Zach’s voice had already found its way past her defenses. Not good. Not good at all.

“I walked down.” She didn’t turn so he moved closer, off to her right, his arm snug against hers in the crowded conditions. A good fire marshal would demand that thirty people, minimum, should leave because the room was grossly over limit, but the fire marshal was on the board and knew how to pick his battles in their small town. “My great-great-grandparents were some of the original settlers.”

“Generational farm.”

“Yes.” She turned to face him more fully and recognized the bad move in record time. Away from him, it was easy to dismiss his breadth and solidity. That strong, stalwart commanding presence. In the abstract, she could write off his warmth, the humor in those bright blue eyes, the air of protection he carried intrinsically.

Up close now?

Not a chance.

He smiled down at her, and something in the ease of that grin called to her, but she’d been there, done that and wasn’t about to repeat the mistake, especially in front of over one hundred townies as the meeting was called to order.

Twenty minutes in, Piper was glad she’d left Lucia home with the girls. Lucia’s patience thinned with protocol, and by the time they’d waded through last month’s minutes and changes and voted on those changes, she was ready to head for the hills herself.

“Why don’t they send the minutes out as an email, ask for adjustments, make those adjustments, then start the meeting with acceptance of the amended minutes?” Zach whispered the question into her right ear, having no idea what the tickle of breath did to her pulse.

“I dare you to make that suggestion.”

He swept the aging crowd a look, then shrugged acceptance. “Gotcha.”

“Uh-oh.”

“What?” He leaned closer again. Piper pointed front and center where an aging woman with a really bad dye job stood, jabbing a finger toward the bicentennial board appointees.

“Violet Yardley, our resident revivalist. She’s rich, owns land that straddles both counties and wants things her way.”

“South shore, not far from Clearwater, adjacent to the vacant campgrounds.”

“That’s one of her properties. Yes. I take it you’ve patrolled down there?”

“Troopers, sheriffs and the occasional Clearwater cop have been called on-site, even though it’s off the Clearwater jurisdiction. Empty cottages and spaced-out kids from the city make a bad combo. She wants to run the show here, huh?”

Piper slanted him a quick look of approval. “She can’t, but she’ll make a solid attempt.”

He placed a strong but light hand on her shoulder, a touch that meant more when accompanied by his words. “Can’t blame folks for trying, can you?”

“Blame, no.” She met the twinkle in his gaze with a solid look of determination. “Refuse? Yes.”

* * *

He heard the words. Read the look. And he wasn’t foolish. He’d seen the careful way she’d handled his question about Luke Campbell the previous night, but for whatever reason, God seemed determined to put this woman in his path. Was it random chance that he bought the house abutting her farm? Or God’s will?

He’d have declared “chance” three days ago. Now? He wasn’t so sure. He’d seen his father smile. Rescued a miniature goat. Had his heart won by two little girls bent on mischief.

Whatever the reason, he liked Piper McKinney’s company, but she’d shied away from him. Hint taken. He’d just had nearly two thousand dollars’ worth of pressure-treated lumber delivered to his backyard. For the next two weeks, manual labor, power tools and the scent of sawdust would mark his time. With his father’s help, maybe they could complete the project in the next thirteen days, leaving his hunting season vacation intact. And maybe it would get Marty’s mind off his change of circumstance.

“Do we have representatives from law enforcement here this evening?” The board chairman scanned the crowd as he asked the question.

“Here.” Zach raised a hand, drawing attention from the surrounding room. And with that attention, he noted that more than one person saw him standing closer than was necessary to Piper McKinney. “Trooper Zach Harrison, New York State Police.”

“And here.” From the other side of the room Luke Campbell’s older brother also raised a hand. He made a visual but silent connection with Zach, then turned toward the board. “Deputy Sheriff Seth Campbell. Once the committee firms its plans, Trooper Harrison and I will present our strategy on public safety that will take us through the bicentennial year.”

“You’re working the bicentennial?” Piper looked up at him, and he had to pretend it didn’t affect him. “You hadn’t mentioned that before.”

“I do believe our conversations have centered on raucous birds, tiny goats, cherry ice cream and cows. I don’t think my job has once entered into the mix. Why is that, Piper?”

She flashed a smile. “I talk faster than you.”

“There’s that.” He drawled the words purposely, giving her time. Hoping she’d open up, just a little. But why was he hopeful? What was there about her that drew him?

“And my farm life is fascinating and all-encompassing, and spares me time for little else.”

“I will shrug off the first, chart the second as personal choice, and the third as a cool put off.”

“Whereas I’d call it life and be done with it. We are what we are, we do what we do and life moves on accordingly.”

The annoyance in her tone gave Zach more to chew on.

The meeting adjourned after several progress reports. As folks moved to the exits, an older man came to a stop in front of Piper. Sadness and resignation filled his eyes. “I expect you’ve heard.”

She nodded, reached out and hugged him. “Vince, you do what you have to do. You need to take care of you and Linda.”

“I shoulda offered it to you first before signin’ with that realty place, though.” He twisted his hands, penitent. “I promised your daddy I’d do that.”

Piper shrugged off his apology with a gentle grace Zach envied. “I don’t have the money to buy your land, Vince. You knew that. You saved me an awkward moment.”