Linda Warren - The Sheriff of Horseshoe, Texas

How many times had he told himself that? Just last week he had been called to the school because Jody had punched a boy in her class. The boy had told her she was a pretty girl. Apparently, those were fighting words. Jody was a tomboy and refused to admit she was a girl. Although the two of them has talked about this often Jody stuck to her stance that she was just Jody, not a girl.

He sucked in the fatherhood department.

Jody was a loner and that bothered him. She didn’t have friends her own age—all her friends were adults. He had to address that problem soon, too.

Dolittle came around the desk and nuzzled Wyatt’s leg. Wyatt scratched the dog’s head. “So you left the house without telling Grandma?”

“Well, Daddy, it was like this.” Her brown eyes grew serious and he just wanted to kiss her sweet, pixie face. “Grandma was having her Sunday poker game and she was telling Gladys that she needed to get her cataracts removed because she couldn’t see squat. You know how Gladys hates it when Grandma tells her what to do. They were having a loud argument about mind-your-own business types of things when I shouted that I was going to see what was keeping you so long.”

“I see.” Wyatt realized he had no control over any of the women in his life. His mother played the organ in church on Sunday mornings and then played poker with her friends in the afternoon.

Gambling was illegal in Texas, so he’d told them they couldn’t play for money. But the winner bowled free on Tuesdays and also got a free lunch; the others paid, at least that was what his mother told him. Half the time he didn’t know what the ladies were up to, and most of the time he’d rather not know. He’d prefer not to have to lock up his own mother.

Trying to look as stern as possible, he pointed a finger at Jody. “Next time, make sure Grandma hears you.”

At the firmness of Wyatt’s voice, Dolittle became rigid, on guard. They’d had him since he was a pup, and they realized early that the dog was lazy and did very little, hence the name. But he was protective of Jody and he’d fight a lion for her.

Wyatt rubbed the dog’s head, letting him know that no one was hurting Jody.

“Sure. No problem,” Jody replied. “Are you ready to go now? Virgil says the catfish are biting today. He says he caught one this big.” She stretched out her arms as far as she could.

“Virgil tells a lot of fish stories.”

“Uh-uh, Daddy.” Jody shook her head vigorously. “Virgil doesn’t lie.”

Stuart came out of the back room with an armload of blankets. Jody ran to him. “Whatcha doing, Stuart? It’s too hot for blankets.”

Stuart leaned down and whispered, “We have a female prisoner and I’m fixing her some privacy.”

“Oh.” Before Wyatt could stop her, Jody darted down the hall to the jail. He was instantly on his feet. But Dolittle was in the way and he almost tripped over him.

Jody stared though the bars at Ms. Ross. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Stop gawking, little girl,” the woman said. “This isn’t a sideshow.”

Jody’s face puckered into a frown. “I’m not a girl. I’m Jody.”

“You look like a girl to me.”

“You’re a girl,” Jody said.

“Well, Jody-with-a-gender-issue, go away and leave me the hell alone.”

Jody put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, you said a bad word.”

“Like I care. Go away, brat.”

Jody placed her hands on her hips. “You’re not nice and I hope my daddy lets you rot in here.”

“Do you not understand the meaning of ‘go away’?”

Jody stuck out her tongue. Wyatt pulled her away and led her back into the office. “You know you’re not supposed to speak to the prisoners.”

“What did she do, Daddy?” Jody pulled free of his hold and looked up into his face.

Wyatt didn’t plan on answering that question. Jody didn’t need to know. He glanced at the clock. Almost four. Time to get in a little fishing.

“Stuart, my daughter and I are going fishing.”

“Yay!” Jody jumped up and down.

“If anyone calls about Ms. Ross, call me on my cell and I’ll come back and sort it out.”

“You gonna leave me here with her?” Stuart’s left eye twitched, which always happened when he was nervous.

Wyatt reached for his hat. “Is that a problem?”

“No…well…” Stuart held his hand over his mouth so Jody couldn’t hear. “What if she attacks me when I hang the blankets? I don’t want to hit a woman.”

Wyatt glanced at his watch. “Lamar’s shift starts at five so wait until then. Surely the two of you can handle one woman.”

Stuart nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

Wyatt pointed to the bail book. “Leroy’s and Leonard’s wives are coming in with bail money, so let them go then.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff.” Stuart winked at Jody. “Catch a big one, little bit.” Everyone in town called Jody that.

Wyatt shook his head as he walked out the door. One feisty blonde had his office turned upside down.

Hopefully her powerful mother would show up soon with a lawyer and Ms. Ross would be out of his hair.

For good.

FOR THE FIRST TIME in years, Wyatt wasn’t enjoying the fishing. He kept wondering what was going on at the office. And he wondered about Peyton Ross. Why was she so defiant and angry? She seemed to have class and beauty, but on the inside she was like rebellious teenager determined to prove something. He wondered what.

At dusk he drove Jody home and went to check on things at the jail. Jody wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t let her. She spent too much time there, too. Soon he’d have to set rules for his child—and enforce them—or she was going to be the wildest kid in Horseshoe.

Lamar was at the desk when he went in. He immediately jumped to his feet. In his early twenties, Lamar was somewhat overeager. He always tried to please and at times it could be a little tiring. But Lamar was dedicated to his job, and Wyatt trusted him completely.

“How’s it going?” Wyatt asked, sinking into his chair.

“Okay, I guess. Leroy and Leonard are gone. Zeke is a pain as usual, demanding to be released.”

“And Ms. Ross?”

Lamar scratched his head. “She refused supper. Said she doesn’t eat garbage. She had a few choice words to say about you, too. That woman has a bad attitude, but she’s real easy on the eyes.”

Wyatt ignored that. “Has anyone called about her?”

“Not a soul.”

Damn. Where was this powerful mother? He got up and made his way to her cell. Blankets were hung haphazardly from the bars, but none over the door. He could see inside. She sat on the bottom bunk in pink capris, a sparkly tank top and sandals. She’d changed her clothes, but the expression on her face was the same—rebellious.

“Would you like to try your mother again? We haven’t heard from anyone.” He was as cordial as he knew how to be, just as his parents had taught him.

“Don’t worry, you will,” she replied with a lift of a finely arched brow. “And you can kiss that shiny badge on your chest goodbye. My mother will have you for breakfast.”

He rubbed his jaw, feeling a five-o’clock shadow. Again he wondered what had happened to make her so bitter. “Have you ever heard that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?”

“Sorry, I’m not up on your little country sayings, but you might try catching some of these roaches in here. I’m sure locking me up in such a dump is breaking several laws, not to mention some health violations.”

His cordial attitude went south. Wyatt tipped his hat. “Good night, Ms. Ross.”

“Go to hell,” she shot back.

THE NIGHT WORE ON and Peyton kept glancing at her watch. Quinn will come. Quinn will come. By ten o’clock she knew he wasn’t coming. A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly slapped it away. She wouldn’t cry. That Mayberry sheriff would not make her cry.