Gayle Kaye - Sheriff Takes A Bride

She supposed anger wouldn’t work, though she had a lot of it. She suspected wheedling would get her nowhere either, and she’d never been very good at that anyway. Reason—it was the only thing worth attempting.

“Sheriff...” Hallie struggled for calm. “I—I’m sure we can work this out if we discuss it like two sane, sensible people.” She smiled as if to say, she’d try if he would.

“Batting those eyes isn’t going to get you anywhere, Ms. Cates,” he said superiorly. “Neither will flashing that pretty smile at me, delightful though it may be.”

“Why, of all the arrogant—! I did not bat my eyes. And my smile, Cam Osborne, was an attempt at graciousness. Obviously that’s something you wouldn’t recognize if it jumped up and bit you on your backside,” she retorted, her hackles up and on alert.

He grinned at that and Hallie wriggled in the chair. Damn, his office was close, stuffy. She wanted to throw open a window, take off a layer or two of clothing, except that she was wearing the minimum—jeans and a lightweight turtleneck top.

But she refused to let the man see her sweat. Or blush. Unfortunately she could control neither.

“I demand to know what proof you have against my grandmother,” she said crisply.

“Uh, Hallie...” Granny called from the cell doors behind Hallie’s chair.

“Not now, Granny Pearl. The sheriff and I are discussing...evidence.”

“But, Hallie...”

Hallie ignored the warning tone in Granny Pearl’s voice. A mistake, she realized when she saw the smug smile displayed on Cam’s lips. He rocked back in his big chair, entirely too sure of himself.

“Proof, Ms. Cates?” he asked, definitely baiting her.

Hallie felt a slow trickle of perspiration zigzag its way into her cleavage. She had the distinct feeling she’d played right into the man’s hands. Was that what Granny Pearl had been trying to tell her? Was that feisty, ornery little old woman guilty after all?

No, Hallie wouldn’t believe it.

The man lowered the front legs of his chair to the floor with enough force to splinter wood. He reached for the lower desk drawer and yanked it open. “Proof Ms. Cates,” he said, extracting a jug of some sort from its interior.

The jug was tucked neatly inside a plastic bag, but even through the plastic Hallie could smell the contents.

Cam smiled. The woman seated beside his desk was turning a lovely shade of pink, and he found her intriguing. That signaled danger—danger he’d do well to heed. She was prettier than her picture, he decided. Much prettier, in a fragile, don’t touch sort of way. And damned if he didn’t want to touch.

Her long red locks fell in soft curls to her shoulders, tumbling in a too-tempting array of sun-kissed color. And scented—like warm outdoors, with a hint of apple blossoms. God, but he was sounding like a sentimental idiot. Maybe he’d been away from the harsh city streets too long; he was getting soft around the edges.

That had not been his plan when he’d left his past behind. He needed to maintain his edge, that hard streak he’d learned so well back in Chicago. Hell, the edge he’d been born with. It would be a real joke to be taken down by one tall, leggy woman, no matter how gorgeous she was.

Still, the look on Hallie Cates’s face told Cam she was the one who was vulnerable at the moment. He saw the shadow of doubt that drew her well-shaped eyebrows together in a frown of worry when he’d produced the “evidence”, the soft wrinkle of her nose at the smell emanating from the bottle he’d confiscated from Granny’s well-hidden still. He had Pearl Cates dead to rights.

Hallie stiffened in her chair and directed her pretty gaze at him. “I’m sure there’s some explanation, a reasonable one, one that will clear Granny of your so-called charges,” she said, though with more bravado than conviction to her voice.

Cam found himself feeling sorry for her. He cast a glance at Pearl who paced the floor of her cell, chewing on a fingernail. He only hoped she bit all ten to a nub before she got the peevish idea to rake those nails across his face. The woman was wicked, he already knew from her bite, and he rubbed the spot on his arm as a reminder not to tangle with the wiry five-foot-two woman in the future.

The gesture caught Hallie’s attention and she stared down at his injury, just below his rolled-up shirtsleeve. “What happened to your arm?” she asked with curiosity mingled with a certain wariness. “Those...those look like teeth marks.”

“And every one of ’em are mine,” Granny announced proudly from her cell. “How many seventy-year-olds can boast of having a full set?”

Just his luck the old woman did. “Your age, Pearl, is seventy-nine, not seventy,” Cam reminded. He couldn’t resist a smile at Hallie’s mouth, which had closed with surprise at Granny’s admission.

“I—I’m sorry, sorry about the...bite,” she said quietly, chagrined. “I can’t imagine what possessed her to...to...”

“Forget it,” he answered. “The old gal got the better of me. It’s not something that happens often.”

His words were a warning, Hallie suspected. The man was tough, down to his very last well-hewn muscle. She was curious what he was doing in these parts. No one came here unless they’d been born and raised in these mountains. The place was isolated, not to mention backwards, full of gossip. Hallie had only just gotten here, and already she was anxious to get back to Fort Worth. That was, after she cleared Granny Pearl, and the two of them had a good visit.

Perhaps she’d try once again to convince the elderly woman to move to Texas with her. Granny could be stubborn on the subject, but Hallie hated the thought of her being in that little cabin all alone, away from a hospital or doctor. The closest clinic was less than thirty miles away, as the crow flew, but much farther by car over the winding back roads. Granny had a car but she wasn’t that proficient a driver—and limited herself to buying her groceries at the small general store in Greens Hollow.

“Quit gabbin’ with that man and get onto the business of springin’ me,” Granny called to Hallie from behind the bars.

Hallie glanced at Cam and thought she saw him hide a quick grin, but she couldn’t be sure. Did he get a kick out of the old woman? Or did he want to get home? Just then the thought occurred to Hallie that he might have a wife waiting for him at that home, not to mention a houseful of little ones.

Then she thought again. The man didn’t look like the type who wanted a wife. He had an attitude, and it wasn’t one that rang with domesticity.

Hallie didn’t have time to consider Cam further. He was studying her curiously—and she didn’t want him to know she’d been thinking about him. Granny. Granny Pearl was the reason she was here in Greens Hollow—the only reason.

And she’d do well to remember that.

“About my grandmother,” she said. “I demand you spring...uh, release her. She’s elderly and shouldn’t be spending even one night in jail.”

“Not that easy, Ms. Cates. Your granny’s been accused of a crime. There’ll need to be a hearing—”

“A...hearing.” Of course. That would clear her grandmother, she was sure. “How soon?” she asked cautiously.

“Five weeks from today—at the county seat. Judge McBain.”

“Five weeks! Certainly you don’t mean to keep her locked up until...? I mean, what about bail? Releasing her on her own recognizance?” Hallie didn’t know much about legalities—but there was such a thing as rights.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t want to keep that woman under lock and key any longer than I have to,” he said. He leaned back in his desk chair, observing Granny Pearl for a moment over Hallie’s left shoulder. “Tell you what,” he said, righting the chair again. “I could be persuaded to release her into your custody until then—”