The Sheriff's Plus One (The Kincaids)

by Marquita Valentine

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Just… you’re not my sister. You’re uh…well…”

  Molly tapped her foot. “Keeping digging, Kincaid. Maybe you find a buried treasure chest full of better answers.”

  Gunnar snorted, then looked at his watch. “Well, damn. I can’t join y’all for dinner. VIP is calling, so… yeah.” He dashed away before Molly or Archer could say anything.

  “Still waiting on a better answer,” Molly said as she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “You can text me when you think of it.”

  “I’m sorry, okay. I panicked and… look, I’ll just come out and say it.” He blew out a breath and muttered a curse. “Gunnar talked to me about asking you out. He wanted my permission.”

  “Your permission? I’m not a child.”

  Archer scraped a hand through his dark hair. “No, he wanted permission because he didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Selfishly, I told him no because I can’t lose you… too.”

  The aggravation went straight out of her. She couldn’t totally fault Archer for his reaction to Gunnar going against what he’d said, especially since he asked in the first place. “Maybe we should get Cora and Gunnar together.”

  “Yeah and maybe I should have told you when he mentioned it to me instead of acting like a jackass.”

  She grinned. “Cora is still hung up on Graves Churchill.”

  The lights suddenly cut off and on. “Need to lock up,” Faye said.

  “Oh sorry,” Molly grabbed Archer by the arm, his muscles bunching as she led them outside.

  “I think you like dragging me around,” he said with a smile. “Night, Mayor.”

  Faye cut off the lights for good this time and shut the door. The security light blazed brightly above them. “You two are a cute couple. Sure am glad you got your groove back after Liz left you.”

  “We’re not a couple,” Molly said, but her heart had skipped a beat when Faye said the words out loud. “Just two friends having dinner together.”

  “Whatever you say.” Faye winked, then turned to lock the door.

  Molly noticed that Archer didn’t say a word, and that was probably because he didn’t want to stick his foot in his mouth again. “Ready to go eat?” she asked.

  “Starving. All I can think about is ordering a Harpy burger and fries, maybe a milkshake, too. Later, we can stop at your shop and you can sell me a piece of apple pie.”

  “How can you eat that and look the way you do?” Men, she internally huffed. It wasn’t fair at all.

  “Law enforcement secret.”

  She tapped her cheek. “It’s the donuts… they actually keep y’all in shape while we mere mortals have to sweat our tails off to eat them without penalty.”

  He slowed when Molly did, strolling down Main Street. She almost slipped her hand in his, then thought the better of it and let go of him.

  The town looked so pretty in the evenings now. Storefronts were decorated the reflect the summer season and the awnings matched up perfectly as they walked. Quite a few window displays included fairy lights giving an ethereal glow.

  However, the showstopper of the town was smack dab in the center of town. Star Fall’s was blessed with an honest to goodness town square, with lush green grass, shade trees, picnic benches. Presiding over the town square was a white clapboard and grey stone chapel that many couples rented out for weddings and baby christenings.

  She sighed.

  “Still want to get married there, huh?” Archer said.

  “You know it.”

  “So… things okay between us,” he asked.

  Molly nodded. “Now that we’ve gotten things out in the open, yes. But next time, try talking before you get all weird on me over your brother, who I view as a brother, wanting to ask me out.”

  Archer grinned and her heart fluttered. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Every Sunday after church (and schedule permitting), Archer and his siblings—the ones who no longer lived at home—would gather at their parents’ home for an afternoon of eating and playing games.

  As of this moment, his little sister was beating the crap out of everyone in Apples to Apples. They sat around the dining room table, across from each other.

  “I literally put down glass slippers, kid. Cinderella.” Gunnar narrowed his eyes at Banner as she giggled. “There goes your trip to Disney World.”

  Banner sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Her dark blue eyes were unwavering. “It would look really bad for a Google review about the CEO of Kincaid Enterprises not doing what he promised to show up in your algorithms. Also, you suck, that’s why you lost.”

  “Banner Ruth Kincaid, that is not good sportsmanship,” Momma admonished.

  “She just threatened my business and you’re worried about her sportsmanship?”

  Archer snickered. “She has five older brothers, who do you think taught her that?”

  “Who taught her about algorithms?” Dad asked.

  “She’s almost thirteen. She can probably create them,” Archer pointed out.

  Gunnar grimaced as he muttered, “I taught her.”

  Everyone, but Gunnar burst out laughing. He grumbled under his breath about being the black sheep of the family.

  Ah, Sunday Funday. Too bad Miller, Spencer, and Asher couldn’t make it today. Only two out of the three had a real excuse—military duties, while Asher more likely than not living it up before the basketball season started.

  Banner smiled sweetly. “So… Disney’s back on?”

  “Yeah, but I think it’s time to switch games.”

  “I think it’s time for dessert instead of another game,” Momma announced.

  Dad got up from his chair. “I’ll help you.”

  Banner picked up the cards from the game and put them in the box. Man, she was looking so grown lately. What happened to the chubby little toddler that followed him around until he sat so she could climb in his lap?

  “Maybe next time you’ll play to win, Gunnar.” She whirled around. “I’m going to facetime my friends.”

  She’d become practically a teenager, that’s what happened. “Banner, don’t you think you need to apologize to your brother,” Archer asked.

  Banner made a noise, then turned back around to face them. “I’m not going to apologize for winning, but…” she bit her lip. “I guess I could have not threatened his company.” Her blue eyes zeroed in on Gunnar. “You should be a better loser.”

  Gunnar rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, you’re right.” He tipped his chin at her and she put the game down, throwing herself in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “Love you, Banner. Next time, I’ll do better, too.”

  Banner stood, leaving the room without another word.

  “She said she loved me too.”

  Archer rolled his eyes. “That’s a given. It’s also a given that you two are exactly alike when it comes to winning.”

  Gunnar grinned. “I almost feel sorry for her future boyfriends. That is, if we allow her to date.”

  “Speaking of dating.”

  Gunnar propped his arms on the table and cupped his face with his hands. “I’m all ears, dollface.”

  Archer flipped him off, then sat back in his chair, stretching his legs under the table. “Anyway, I spoke to Molly. She thinks of you like a brother.”

  “I fail to see why that is a bad thing.”

  Archer gave him a look. “Would you want to date someone you think of like a brother?”

  “None of you guys is my type, so no.”

  “God help me,” Archer muttered. “You know exactly what I mean. She said no, so I’m merely passing it on to you.”

  “Does that mean you’ll finally ask her out?”

  “If I did, would you look elsewhere for… companionship?” Damn, he was making Molly sound like a dog.

  “She’s not a pet, dude.”

  Archer all but slammed his hands down on the table. “Answer the damn question.”

  “Smooth. I
prefer smooth peanut butter over crunchy.”

  “This is going nowhere.” Archer stood. “I got laundry to do.”

  “You suck at questioning.”

  “So’s your face.” Great comeback.

  Instead of continuing their bickering, Gunnar started laughing loudly.

  “I’m done,” Archer said as he pushed his chair back and left the dining room.

  Their parents intercepted him as he walked to the backdoor.

  “Leaving so soon?” Momma asked as he kissed her cheek and then hugged his dad.

  “Yes, ma’am. Lots of laundry.”

  She smiled. “I kinda miss the days when you would do that over here.”

  “Don’t miss the water bill.”

  Archer could always count on his dad to get to the heart of things.

  Dad winked, then grew somber. “You and Gunnar will be thick as thieves by tomorrow.”

  “I’m not mad at him,” Archer insisted. “He’s… being himself.”

  Momma patted his arm. “Have a good evening, sugar.”

  A couple of minutes later, Archer was in his truck, driving home. Agitated, and actually having precisely zero laundry to do, he put the windows down, cranked up the radio, and kept on driving.

  This was ridiculous. His fight with Gunnar was even more ridiculous. They’d never argued over a woman, then again, his brother had never been interested in the women Archer dated.

  Hell, Gunnar had shown an interest in Molly until now either.

  His phone went off suddenly and he answered it. “Sheriff, sorry to bother you on a Sunday afternoon with the fam, but you’re needed.”

  “On my way.” He activated his hazard lights and quickly executed a three-point road turn.

  “ETA is approximately fifteen minutes to the station.”

  “Not at the station.” Dispatch snickered. “The Yarn Shop.”

  “Not again,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “ETA is approximately twelve minutes. What’s the situation?”

  “The usual.”

  “Super.” Cora’s aunts were troublemakers with a capital T. They were also busybodies with a capital B, which meant they had stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. And now they were reaping the consequences.

  When he arrived on scene, he glanced at his vest on the passenger seat and decided against it. There had only been one recorded shooting at The Yarn Shop, and that had been in 1889 over an apple pie recipe. The recipe was supposed to guarantee a proposal, so naturally, every woman in the county wanted it.

  Or so the story went.

  Archer put on his hazards and got out the truck, making his way with purposeful strides to the small group standing outside the shop.

  “Y’all said Darla would be getting a proposal this month,” one woman shouted at the aunts.

  “Oh my Lord, momma. I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place.” Darla’s cheeks were scarlet.

  “Ladies,” Archer said with a nod. “What can I do to help?”

  “You can arrest these two for false advertisement,” Darla’s mother screeched.

  “That’s not a reason to arrest someone.”

  Darla’s momma huffed. “Well, it should be.”

  “It’s not. Either you leave on your own accord, or the Woodhouses can ask me to escort you off their premises and press charges for trespassing on their property.”

  “This is a public sidewalk.”

  Archer shook his head. “ ’Fraid not. The Woodhouses own the sidewalk in front of their store. It’s in the town charter.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s private property.” And if this lady had a problem with it, she could take it up with the Mayor, but there was no way in hell he’d suggest that. She could come to her own conclusion, especially over something so petty.

  “Momma, let’s go before something happens that you’ll regret.”

  “I already regret ever coming here.” She turned up her nose so high that if it started to rain, she’d have drowned. “I will never frequent this establishment again.”

  “Oh no. How will we ever recover?” Franny said as the duo hurried away to their car. The small crowd dispersed, some going inside the shop. She turned her friendly brown eyes on Archer. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Sheriff.”

  “That’s my job. Anytime you ladies have a problem like that, call us and we’ll do our best to help.”

  Franny grinned. “We didn’t call. Darla’s precious mother did.”

  Son of a… “Guess that didn’t go the way she thought it would.”

  “Speaking of things not going a certain way…”

  Archer started to back up. “Yeah, not ready to talk about that.”

  “I only wanted to invite you inside to--”

  “Not a good knitter.” He wriggled his fingers. “Clumsy hands. Anyway, if you want to file—”

  “No need. This isn’t the first time the Woodhouses have been maligned. I consider it family tradition at this point.” Franny smiled and moved to the entrance of the shop. “Don’t be a stranger, sheriff. You’re welcome inside anytime.”

  He almost tipped his hat to her, only to remember that he didn’t have one on. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.

  Chapter 5

  “Are the Woodhouses going to press charges against Darla’s momma?” Molly asked.

  They were sitting in one of the booths at The Happy Harpy, eating breakfast together like they did every Monday. Molly’s business was closed on Mondays and Archer’s schedule typically accommodated their standing date.

  “No, and since it was a bystander that called the station because it had spilled outside, I have no reason to press charges either.” Archer shook his head. “Imagine if I were able to go after real criminals and I don’t know help people with actual problems, not disgruntled mommas.”

  Molly snorted. “What would the world come to? Anyway, the entire thing is a mess. Everyone was talking about it on the town’s Facebook page. Even Mayor Faye chimed in and you know she hates chiming in.”

  “Saw that.” He leaned back in the booth and drank down the last vestiges of coffee from his mug. “I’m glad she backed me up. One of the reasons we have Star Falls is because of the Woodhouses and their generosity.”

  “Exactly but I still want an invite into their Yarn Shop.” Molly frowned, pushing the eggs on her plate to one side. “I feel like something’s wrong with me for not being invited yet.”

  A sliver of guilt ran down his spine, but he would tell Molly about the standing invitation he was issued. “Imagine how Cora feels. She’s never been invited and those are her aunts.”

  “I know, but there’s bad blood between the aunts and Cora’s dad.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand what that has to do with Cora, though. She’s not any of them.”

  Archer set his empty mug down. “I got an invitation.”

  Molly’s eyes rounded and her jaw dropped. She snapped it closed, then cocked her head to one side. “Are you kidding me?”

  He shook his head. “I think I was only invited as a thank you…and because of what happened with Liz. Ms. Frannie asked me if I wanted to talk about it.”

  “Oh no.” Molly shivered. “Now I don’t envy you at all. The last thing I want to do is talk about failed relationships with them. I have too many as is and to lay it all out there. Yeah, no thank you.”

  “My thoughts as well, which is why I declined.”

  “Regardless of Darla and her momma, do you think the aunts do more harm than good?”

  Archer grinned. “Guess that depends on who you’re asking.”

  “Yeah, my momma would say good.”

  “So would mine.” He rubbed the side of his jaw. “They don’t invite many of us anymore.” His momma had commented on that more often than not. Still, he hadn’t been sure if she was speaking like the parent of the younger generation not respecting the establishment, or if people his age and younger simply weren’t interested. “Not many
of us care.”

  “And I don’t mean that disrespectfully either. Hell, I didn’t talk to Cora’s aunts about Liz. Did you ever—

  “No.” Molly frowned. “I didn’t consult them, but then again, I’ve never been invited to the shop.”

  “Did you ever ask?”

  “No.” Molly snorted. “Are you saying they’re like fairies, we have to believe in them so they can work their magic?” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “They’re not witches, Archer. Lord. They’re matchmakers and really good at reading people. Kinda like you. And me…. Basically, anyone who studies people’s habits and personalities for a living or to make a living.”

  “If that’s true, why do you and Cora want to go so bad?”

  “Because I’m nosy.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And maybe because I need some good luck in the dating department, especially tonight.”

  “You have a date,” he all but shouted.

  She gave him an ‘are you okay’ look. “Yeah, that’s what single people do when they want to find someone to spend the rest of their life with—crazy how that works.”

  “I was surprised is all,” he muttered. “That’s great you have a date tonight.”

  “Then why is your eye twitching?”

  He rubbed the corner of one of his eyes. “It’s not.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

  Yeah, he was jealous. He was jealous for a lot of reasons that he couldn’t explain or rather he wouldn’t explain. “I’m not. I’m happy for you.” Man, happy tasted like crap. He’d rather eat pickled pig’s feet than repeat it.

  “It’s a blind date. Cora set it up.”

  He should’ve known Cora had a hand in this. She’d helped him out once and only once in that department. Okay, maybe twice when if he counted Liz. Man, he hated counting Liz. Either way, the two times Cora helped, she ended up being wrong.

  And now look at him. Alone. Jealous over one of his oldest friends going out on a blind date.

  “You trust her judgment?” He tried to be playful about it, but damn it, he wasn’t in a playful mood.

  “Honestly, no. But I love her. She means well.” Molly shrugged. “Besides, what’s the worse that could happen?”