Her Cowboy Sheriff

by Leigh Riker

  Amy gestured toward the van. “We’d better get started if we’re going to have everything ready by the time they get back. Will, can you get the cooking crate out, please?”

  Will carried a yellow-and-black plastic case from the back of the van. He opened it to reveal various pieces of equipment that looked as though they might belong in a science lab. Huh. Maybe Sabrina should have gone to the survival demo after all.

  Amy pulled out a rolled bundle and, through some feat of origami, turned it into a table. “I’ll cut up the veggies and make the dip. Can you two build the fire, heat the beans and handle the grill?”

  “Sure,” Will volunteered before Sabrina could say anything. “Where do you want the table?”

  Sabrina had to admit, Will was a nice kid—he moved Amy’s table and equipment under the canopy and arranged everything for her so she could sit while she worked on the vegetables. Meanwhile, at Amy’s suggestion, Sabrina unloaded a bunch of logs from the van and stacked them near a circle of stones in a clear area not too far away. A few minutes later, Will returned, shaking his head. “I wish she’d have that baby. I keep thinking one of these days it’s going to pop out in the middle of the shoe department.”

  “When is she due?” Sabrina asked.

  “Yesterday. Walter told her she didn’t need to do the team-builder this year, but she didn’t want to miss it. You want to build the fire, while I get the rest of the wood?”

  “Why don’t you build the fire, and I’ll haul the firewood? You shouldn’t be stuck with all the heavy lifting.”

  Will gave her an odd look, but he didn’t argue. Of course, as a management trainee, she technically outranked him. Probably.

  She tried to watch how he built the fire, but since she had to make a couple of trips for firewood, she missed a few steps. She was pulling the last of the wood from the van when her finger got pinched between two logs. “Ouch.” She shook her hand. “Cielos!”

  “What’s wrong? You break a nail?”

  Sabrina spun around to find the survivor guy with the blue eyes pulling something from the back of his truck. Leith Jordan, according to Walter. She looked down at her hand, where a big scratch ran across her polish and the ragged edge of a fingernail hung by a thread. She grimaced. That was going to take some time to repair tonight. “As a matter of fact, I did. Don’t you have anything better to do than sneak up behind people?”

  “Sorry.” He looked more amused than apologetic. “You’re new with Orson, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Why? Do you know all the people from the store?”

  “No, but I’m in there a lot and I haven’t seen you before.” He looked down at her boots and shook his head. “I’d remember you.”

  What did that mean? There was nothing wrong with her boots. They were exactly like the ones Clara was wearing. Besides, he wasn’t with Orson, so his opinion didn’t matter.

  “I’d better get these logs to the fire.” Sabrina gathered up the wood she’d dropped and returned to the fire ring without looking back.

  Whatever Will had done in her absence must have worked, because flames were licking at the wood. He stepped back. “I’ll light the grill and handle all the meat and veggie burgers and stuff. Okay?”

  “Sure. What should I do?”

  “Uh, well, I guess you just need to watch the fire and heat up the beans.”

  “Sounds good.” Surely she could manage that. “Thanks, Will.”

  He set up the grill close enough that he could talk with Amy while he cooked. Bushes and boulders partially blocked the view between Sabrina and the other two. That worked out well for her, because it allowed her to paw through the chest Will had brought and try to figure out what everything was without him watching.

  The fire seemed to be burning nicely, so she threw a couple more logs on. The flames died down. Oops. Using a stick, Sabrina raked one of the logs toward her and the fire jumped up between the two logs. Okay, that looked good. Digging through the crate, she found a metal box labeled camp stove. Better and better. But when she opened the box, the contents held no resemblance to any stove she’d ever seen. She put it aside for the moment.

  The crate held a dozen big cans of baked beans. Probably half of them were for the group tomorrow. Sabrina dug a little more and found some sort of metal circles surrounded by rings of silicone—trivets maybe—and something that looked like a manual can opener, except it didn’t have any handles. How was she supposed to heat beans without a pan? Eventually, she found some tongs but still no cooking containers.

  She peeked around the rock. Will was whistling as he unpacked a bunch of stuff from an ice chest. She could ask him how the stove worked, but then he’d know she was a fraud. And if one person in the store knew, soon the whole store would, including Walter.

  She picked up one of the cans. It was a metal cylinder, right? Just like a small pan. Why not just put the cans into the fire and let them heat? Once they were hot, she could take them out of the fire with the tongs. Yeah, that would work. And she wouldn’t have to deal with the camp stove. Problem solved.

  She added more wood to the fire, careful to leave spaces between the logs for the flames. Then she set the cans of beans onto the coals near the heart of the flames. The labels caught and burned away, but the cans seemed stable. Now all she had to do was wait.

  It wasn’t long before the main group returned, laughing and joking. Clara trotted over to Sabrina. “Sorry you missed out on the fun. Those Learn & Live guys are great. I’ll tend the fire and you can go do the equipment tryouts.”

  “The what?”

  “You know, where we try out all that shiny new equipment we’re going to be selling this season. Walter said to send you over. You’ll be working in one of the departments, so you need hands-on experience more than I do.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, the beans—”

  “Sabrina,” Walter called, waving his arms. “Over here.”

  “Don’t keep the boss waiting,” Clara said. “I’ll take care of the beans. Go.”

  Sabrina went. Her coworkers crowded around the van, where Walter was handing out packages to everyone. The breeze kicked up again, and without the fire to warm her, Sabrina felt goose bumps rising along her arms while she waited her turn. Walter passed an orange backpack to a guy with a gray ponytail and picked up a long, thin nylon sack that appeared to contain something heavy. “Sabrina. This one’s for you.” She stepped closer and Walter leaned in so only she could hear. “Thanks for volunteering to help with the food. That shows leadership. But now it’s your turn for some fun. Here, this new tent design is supposed to make for a faster, more intuitive setup without compromising structural integrity. Give it a try and let me know what you think.”

  “All right.” Sabrina accepted the nylon bundle and looked around. Where did this testing take place?

  “There’s a flat spot over there,” Walter suggested, waving his hand toward a spot a little past the fire.

  “Perfect. Thanks.” Sabrina smiled at him and carried the tent over. She waved at Clara as she walked by. Okay. A tent. Let’s see what she had to work with. Sabrina opened the drawstring at the top of the bag and dumped everything out. Hmm. A bunch of nylon, two short bundles of colored sticks, small metal sticks with hooks on the ends and...oh, instructions. Good. She grabbed the paper and looked at the picture. Step one: spread tent on the ground.

  Clear enough. She unrolled the nylon and spread it in a neat rectangle. Presumably the heavier side was the bottom, and the net side went up. So far, so good.

  Step two: assemble shock-corded tent poles. Was that stick in the picture the big one or one of the little ones? Another gust sent a shiver up her arms. She stamped her feet. It was hard to concentrate when she was so cold.

  “Problems?”

  Sabrina jumped and turned. Those blue eyes, watching her again. This was starting to get weird. “No, I’m j
ust reading the instructions.”

  He looked over the pieces she’d set on the ground. “Looks like it sets up just like the old design except they color-coded the poles, shortened the sleeves and used minicarabiners to make setup faster.”

  Minicarabiners. Uh-huh. “Yeah, well, I’m approaching it like a customer who hasn’t ever set up one of these tents,” Sabrina said. “I want to make sure the instructions are clear, even to a novice.”

  “I see.” His lips twitched into a small smile.

  Sabrina couldn’t be sure whether it was a friendly smile or if he was laughing at her, but she suspected the latter. She made a point of turning her back to him while she read, shivering as she did. Maybe he would go away. “Shock cord? What the heck is a shock cord?” she muttered to herself. “Cielos, these pictures are confusing.”

  “What did you say?” He was still there. “Cielos? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Just something her grandmother used to say when she got flustered. Heavens. But he didn’t need Sabrina’s life story.

  “Where’s your jacket?”

  She gave up and turned to look at him. “I’m wearing it.”

  “That’s all you brought?” He shook his head. “Where are you from, anyway?”

  “Arizona. And I’m fine.”

  “Scottsdale?”

  “As a matter of fact, I used to work in Scottsdale.”

  “I figured.” He unzipped his fleece vest and removed it. “Here, wear this.”

  “What? No. I’m okay.”

  “I don’t think you are. Shivering, mumbling, confusion. All symptoms of hypothermia.”

  I’m not mumbling because I’m hypothermic. I’m mumbling because I’m annoyed. She thought the words but managed not to say them. Instead she repeated, “I’m okay.”

  “Are you wet?”

  “No. I was wearing a rain poncho.”

  “Then you’re probably not hypothermic, but you’re obviously cold. Take the vest.”

  It was tempting, but she hated to be in anyone’s debt. Especially someone who seemed to disapprove of her. “Then you’ll be cold.”

  “I have a fleece jacket in the truck.”

  Of course he did. The survival expert would always be prepared. Another cold gust convinced her. “Fine.” She pulled the vest over her sweater and zipped it closed. Still warm from his body heat, it covered her from her shoulders to her thighs. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He continued to stand there. She pretended to be studying the instructions, hoping he’d walk away, but he remained where he was. “I’m Leith Jordan.”

  “Sabrina Bell.”

  He nodded. “So, Sabrina. Why are you here?”

  “For the team-builder, obviously.”

  “No, I mean why are you in Alaska? Why didn’t you stay in Arizona?”

  “I came for the job.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You came all the way to Alaska to work at the Orson Outfitters store?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m training. Headquarters hired me as a management trainee, and the first part of that is to work in different positions in one of the local stores.”

  “Oh, so Alaska is just a temporary stop for you.”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes more sense. Why are you pretending you know anything about camping?”

  She looked around sharply to see if any of the other employees were within earshot, but it was just the two of them. She picked up one of the metal sticks and examined it as though she intended to do something with it. “I told you. We’re supposed to be testing the products, and part of that testing is to see if the instructions are clear.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” She rattled the paper and tried to concentrate on the instructions. She felt warmer already. Now, if she could just figure out step two.

  He handed her the blue bundle of sticks. “The shock cord is the bungee cord running through the tent poles. It holds the short poles in line while you fit them together to create a long pole, which fits through the sleeve at the crown of the tent.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s what the instructions should have said. I’m going to have to let them know these wouldn’t be clear to a beginner.” Sabrina studied the sticks, and sure enough, they were all threaded onto a stretchy rope. As she unfolded them, they snapped together. Ingenious. Now, if she could just get rid of Mr. Know-It-All, she might have a shot at figuring out this tent. But he showed no signs of leaving.

  Without another word, he lifted the top of the tent and held a blue fabric sleeve that matched the pole so that all she had to do was slip the pole through the sleeve. Okay, that made sense. Once it was in place, Leith arched his end of the pole and secured it through a grommet at the base. Sabrina followed suit with her end of the pole. Suddenly, the tent was standing. She assembled the red sticks and threaded the pole through the red sleeve, again with Leith’s assistance. He began securing the hooks on one side of the tent to the poles. She did the same on her side.

  Leith unrolled the final piece of nylon. She took two corners and helped him center it over the poles. Leith handed her the thin metal pieces. “Now you just need to stake out the corners.”

  “Right. Let me just see if the instructions say that.”

  Leith grinned. “For testing purposes.” Now she was sure he was making fun of her, but she didn’t care.

  “Exactly.” She picked up the instructions and turned the page. “Stake corners.” She pointed at the diagram. “Right here.” She set down the paper and pushed one of the stakes through a grommet into the soft ground, anchoring the corner. Leith did one of the other corners. He wasn’t so bad after all.

  Bang! Sabrina whirled toward the sound of an explosion. Something came whizzing out of the fire and flew several feet before crashing into a rock. Something about the size of a can.

  “Oh, cielos! The beans.” Sabrina rushed toward the fire.

  “I don’t know what happened.” Clara stared wide-eyed at the fire. A silicone-sided pan of beans simmered nearby on the camp stove Sabrina hadn’t been able to figure out.

  “It’s my fault.” Sabrina looked around for the tongs. Before she could grab them, another can exploded and sailed off to the right, knocking over the stove and spilling the beans onto the ground.

  “Get back.” Leith pulled Clara away from the fire. “Sabrina, you, too.”

  “I just have to get the rest out before they go off.” Sabrina grabbed the tongs and reached into the fire, extracting a blackened can.

  “What is it?”

  “A can of beans.” She dropped the can in the dirt and tried to locate the next one.

  Leith grabbed a shovel and pushed the logs apart. “How many are in here?”

  “Six.” She spotted another can and pulled it out. “Two more.”

  Leith pushed in his shovel, scooped out another can and dropped it on the ground, away from the fire. Sabrina spotted the last one, but before she could get to it, it went off, zooming out of the fire like a missile and spraying a trail of beans all over the tent she had just erected before it landed in a bush. Sticky sauce dripped down the sides of the tent.

  “You’re sure that’s all?” Leith asked.

  “That’s it.” Sabrina turned to see Clara and all the other employees gathered behind her staring at the tent and at her. Super. Walter pushed through the crowd.

  “What happened here?”

  Sabrina swallowed. “It was my fault. I thought it would save some mess and equipment if I heated the beans in the fire.”

  Walter narrowed his eyes. “You put the cans in the fire without opening them?”

  Sabrina nodded.

  “Any casualties?”

  “Only the tent.”

  Walter marched over to the tent. He examined th
e beans oozing down the fabric, then unzipped the tent and crawled inside. A moment later, he popped out, smiling. “Not a drop inside, and the rain fly wasn’t even completely staked. I think we have a winning design here. Sabrina, please clean that tent before you return it to the store. Everyone else, looks like we’ll have to do without beans today, but Will says the burgers are ready. Let’s eat.”

  With a few headshakes and some laughter, the rest of the employees drifted away. Sabrina picked up a spatula and went to scrape baked beans off the fabric.

  Only Leith followed her. “You have to be careful. When the contents of a can are overheated and the steam can’t escape, pressure can build up past the tolerance of the can.”

  “Thanks, Admiral Hindsight.” She “accidentally” flicked the spatula so that beans flew in his direction, but she missed. “Any other words of wisdom?”

  He flashed a snarky grin. “Well, I could tell you the best way to wash a tent, but I’m sure an experienced camper such as yourself already has a preferred method.” And with that helpful comment, he turned and went to join the others crowding around the grill, leaving her to clean up her mess.

  Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Deckert

  ISBN-13: 9781488039577

  Her Cowboy Sheriff

  Copyright © 2018 by Leigh Riker

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.