Barbara Daille - Rancher at Risk

“Uh-huh.” The ghost of a grin on her wrinkled face told him she hadn’t fallen for his redirection. But she rolled with it anyway. “From what I heard around the office the other day, you got a fairly good glimpse of Signal Street.”

Frowning, he looked over to Lianne and back again.

“Nope,” the older woman said.

“Caleb?” Even as she shook her head, he strung her words together and made the connection. “You work at Town Hall.”

She nodded. “As town clerk for more than forty years now. That’s a lot of water under the bridge.”

And a long history of loyalty to Judge Baylor, he’d bet.

Should have heeded Caleb’s warning after all.

After tonight he’d make sure to keep away from her.

“The judge has almost as much experience reading folks as I have,” she said, “though he’s not quite as generous in giving them the benefit of the doubt. Early on, anyway. He’s seen too many situations where folks have let circumstances steer them in the wrong direction.” She couldn’t have made it any more clear that she knew all about his situation. And she didn’t bother to hide the gleam in her eyes.

Damn him—though he wanted not to care, his desire to learn more equaled hers. “Does everybody in Flagman’s Folly know what’s brought me here?”

Again she shook her head. “Most folks know Caleb brought you here, and that’s the extent of it. But he and the judge get along.”

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