The Sheriff's Son

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The Sheriff's Son Page 9

by Stella Bagwell


  “Do you want to, Mommy? Can we go for a ride with Sheriff Roy?”

  She’d never seen her son so animated, and she knew she could hardly tell him no. It would be cruel and selfish of her not to allow Charlie to enjoy such a simple thing as a horseback ride.

  “If Roy really wants to go to the trouble of saddling the horses, then I guess we could ride for a while.”

  “Oh, boy!” Charlie cried, then flung his arms around his mother’s legs and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Mommy!”

  She rubbed the top of his head. “I believe you should be thanking Sheriff Roy. He’s the one who invited you.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Charlie ran to Roy and gave him the same bear hug he’d bestowed on his mother. For a moment Roy was taken aback by the display of affection.

  “Thank you, Sheriff Roy. I’ll ride Brown Sugar real good.”

  “I know you will, son,” Roy told him. Then, bending down, he lifted Charlie and carried him over to the waiting mare.

  Once the child was firmly seated in the saddle, Roy adjusted the stirrups to the shortest length possible and gave Charlie the reins. “She’s real easy on the mouth. And you don’t have to kick her. Just give her a soft little nudge. She’ll go where you tell her to go.”

  Nodding to show that he understood, Charlie reined the mare away, and Brown Sugar began to walk quietly around the small pen. Justine walked over to where Roy stood watching the boy and horse.

  “Charlie is a good rider. But not on something spirited. I hope she’s gentle enough for him.”

  “I may not know anything about little boys, but I know my horses. Brown Sugar is as gentle as a lamb. There’s no need for you to worry.”

  Deciding she could trust his judgment, she followed Roy into the barn, yet stood close enough to the open door that she could keep an eye on Charlie.

  At the other end of the barn, Roy took two geldings, a bay and a buckskin out of separate stalls, then led them to where Justine was standing in the alleyway.

  Handing her the reins, he said, “I’ll get the tack and saddles.”

  Since the horses were unfamiliar to her, Justine kept a firm hold on the bridle reins while Roy stepped into a small room built into one corner of the barn.

  After a few moments, he came out carrying a saddle and several blankets.

  “Which of these horses is going to be my mount?” she asked as he started to brush down the buckskin.

  “This one. He has a better disposition.”

  Justine noticed he worked quickly, his hands firm but easy as he smoothed blankets across the buckskin’s back.

  “You know, I didn’t realize you were still working your father’s ranch,” she said after a moment. “I figured being the sheriff was more than enough job for you. Wouldn’t it be easier to sell this place and move into Ruidoso?”

  “It probably would be easier,” he said as he folded the stirrup onto the saddle seat, then lifted it onto the horse. “But this is my home. It has been since the day I was born. I don’t want to live anywhere else, and I like raising cattle, even though they aren’t worth much on the market right now. Besides, I may not be reelected when my term as sheriff is over.”

  Smiling wryly, she shook her head. “Who are you trying to kid? You’ll be the sheriff of Lincoln County as long as you want to be.”

  “Maybe so,” he agreed. “But ranching is in my blood. The same way I suspect it’s in yours.”

  She reached out and stroked the buckskin’s neck. “Chloe and Rose are the real ranch women. Both of them can outride me, and they both know infinitely more about cattle than I do. But I like it just the same, and help out wherever I can. Actually, I didn’t realize how much I really missed the ranch until I lived away from it,” she admitted.

  “You were gone a long time.”

  So very long, she thought. Away from him. Away from her family. She’d felt so lonely. But she’d done her best to hide it, and convince her sisters and parents that she enjoyed living in Las Cruces.

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you come home after you graduated? You always told me your intentions were to live here, close to your family.”

  Keeping her eyes fixed on the horse’s dark yellow hair, she said, “Nursing jobs were plentiful there. I wanted to get some experience before I came back to work for a local hospital or doctor.”

  “You like nursing?”

  His question sounded sincere, and Justine wondered if he’d ever wondered about her during the time she was living in Las Cruces. Had he thought of her and the days they’d spent talking and laughing and loving each other? Had he wished that Marla’s deception had never torn them apart?

  Desperately trying to shake the questions out of her mind, she answered, “I like helping people. Especially those who can’t help themselves.".

  Roy pulled the front saddle cinch tight against the horse and buckled it down. “Well, Marble is ready. If you like, you can lead him outside and hitch him to the fence,” he told her.

  Glad that Roy had changed the conversation to something less personal, Justine took a moment to study the horse. “Marble?” she asked. “Why in the world do you call him Marble? He doesn’t have any spots or dapples. Why not just call him plain old Buck?”

  Grinning, Roy took the horse by the nose and turned his face square around to Justine. “Because he has one brown eye, and one white one that looks like a marble.”

  “Is he blind in the white eye?”

  “Not a bit,” he assured her. To prove it, Roy made a movement with his hand near the horse’s eye, and the animal instinctively blinked.

  “Marble,” she repeated with a wry grin. “I’d hate to think what sort of name you’d give me. Red, Carrot, Freckles…”

  Without warning, he stepped forward and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Justine told herself to remain calm. There wasn’t any reason for her heart to hammer out of control. He wasn’t going to kiss her. Or was he?

  “I don’t see any freckles,” he said, his eyes gliding over her satin-smooth complexion. “You used to have a few on your nose. But I guess you’ve outgrown them.”

  So he remembered that about her. What else did he remember, she wondered, as heat seeped into her cheeks, then flared through the rest of her body. “No. They’re still there. I cover them up with makeup.”

  “You shouldn’t hide them. They add charm to your face.”

  His eyes weren’t on her freckled nose now, they were on her lips, and Justine was finding it very hard to breathe.

  “Sure,” she said with wry disbelief. “They’re just as charming as the little chip in my tooth and the scar on my forehead.”

  Roy lifted wispy bangs from her forehead and ran his finger over the faint, crescent-shaped white scar near her hairline. “You were fighting your sister Chloe over a dress, and she hit you with a wooden trinket box,” he murmured.

  Because he still remembered, her heart contracted painfully. “Roy, why did you ask me to come over this morning? I know you said you wanted to show Charlie the horses, but—”

  “You think I asked you over here for other reasons.” His mouth twisted cynically as his fingers tightened on her chin. “Do you think I’ve been pining all these years for you? Do you think I’ve been counting the days, waiting and hoping that you’d come back to the Hondo Valley— without a husband?”

  She didn’t like this dark side of him. Maybe because it mirrored the same feelings she’d tried for years to shed, the way a snake sheds its skin. Bitterness, cynicism, blame. They were ugly, painful emotions. She realized that now more than ever.

  She swallowed as her eyes fell to the toe of his black boots. “I don’t figure you thought of me much at all, Roy.”

  She actually believed what she was saying, Roy thought incredulously. He could hear it in the depths of her voice. She really did assume that once she’d gone from his sight, she’d gone from his mind. Dear God, if only that were true, he would have been cured of her
long ago.

  “You never did truly know me, did you?” he asked, his voice low and accusing.

  Her eyes clouded with remembered pain. “I thought I did. I even believed you cared for me. I was a fool. I should have known I couldn’t trust you.”

  His blue eyes hardened to steel. “Marla was nothing to me.”

  Her eyes were equally hard as she held his gaze. “Neither was I.”

  His nostrils flared. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what I know.”

  Roy had never meant to get into this with Justine. But one word had led to another, and now he was boiling at her unfair assumptions. “You don’t know anything.”

  “Let me go,” she told him through gritted teeth. “I’ve got to check on Charlie.”

  “Charlie is fine. I can see him from here. So there’s no need to use him for an excuse to get away from me.”

  She twisted her chin away from his grasp. “I don’t have to have an excuse to get away from you!”

  Before she could step past him, he grabbed her by both shoulders. “I didn’t ask you over here for this, but by heaven, you’re going to get it anyway,” he growled.

  Justine quickly brought her hands up to ward him off. Marble’s reins slipped from her grasp, but the horse didn’t seem to notice or care. He stood obediently by his master, but Justine was quite another matter. She whacked her fist against the middle of his chest.

  “Don’t you kiss me! Don’t you dare!”

  His mouth spread into a sneering smile. “What are you afraid of? Afraid you might like it?”

  A short, caustic laugh rolled past her lips. “Don’t kid yourself. You could never make me like it!”

  The smile on his face deepened, and his eyes were suddenly lit with inner fire. “I take that as a challenge, Justine.”

  “Roy—”

  Her voice faltered as his lips hovered over hers. “No woman has ever said my name like you. Say it again.”

  He should be asking, not commanding. And she should be telling him to go to hell. But she couldn’t. Because, incredibly, somewhere in the growl of his voice, she heard a need in him.

  “Roy,” she whispered.

  As soon as the word was out, his mouth crushed hers. Justine’s earlier bravado instantly dissolved into flames as the hungry pressure of his mouth melted all her resistance. With a little moan, she leaned into him and wound her arms around his lean waist.

  Roy’s arms slipped around her and drew her closer to him. His fingers tangled in the russet-colored tresses lying against her back.

  In only a matter of moments, raw desire was surging through him, begging him to forget the pain and humiliation she’d caused him six years ago. His body wanted to make love to her, even though his mind kept telling him he was a crazy fool.

  In the end, it was Justine who ended the war being waged inside him. She jerked out of his embrace and turned her back on him.

  “You just had to do that, didn’t you?”

  Her voice was shaky, and her shoulders were visibly trembling. A few moments ago, when she goaded him into kissing her, he’d wanted to show her, prove to her, that he could make her feel, make her hurt for him the same way he’d hurt for her after she went away.

  But now he didn’t feel a bit proud of himself. He just felt an empty, hollow ache deep in his heart

  “I’m sorry, Justine.”

  Strangely enough, Justine didn’t want an apology from him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. “Sorry for what?”

  “Sorry that I kissed you. That you didn’t like it. That I liked it too much.” He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. “Hell, I don’t know anymore, Justine. I just know, for some reason you make me act crazy.”

  Sighing, she wiped her tangled hair away from her cheeks and turned to face him. “You said you didn’t invite me over here to seduce me,” she said. “If that’s true, then why did you invite me and my son?”

  Justine had always been a frank woman. In the past, she’d never hesitated to speak her mind, whether he approved or not. But now her blunt question caught him off guard.

  “I—” His face full of frustration, he shook his head. “I told you, I wanted to show Charlie the horses. Does there have to be another reason, Justine?”

  She grimaced. “I’ve never known you to entertain a child.”

  Frowning, he snatched up Marble’s reins. “Whether you believe it or not, I like your son. He’s the first child I’ve ever really felt drawn to. Maybe that’s because you and I were once close. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s an endearing little boy. Take your pick as to why. But don’t read too much into this little outing today. I’m not interested in getting involved with any woman. Even you.”

  Even if Justine had known what to say to him, she wouldn’t have had the chance to open her mouth. Roy turned abruptly and led Marble out of the barn.

  She stared after him, his words rolling through her mind. He’s the first child I’ve ever really felt drawn to. Could it be that Roy instinctively felt a connection with Charlie because they were actually father and son? she wondered. If so, how long would it be before he began to see all the things in Charlie that mirrored him? How long would it be before he discovered the truth—and hated her for it?

  Chapter Six

  If Justine had any sense at all, she would go pluck Charlie off Brown Sugar, march him and herself to the truck and hightail it back to the Bar M. She and Charlie had survived for five years without Roy. They didn’t need him now. And he obviously didn’t need anybody but himself.

  Her face set with determination, she tied the bay to a nearby post and headed out of the barn. Where Roy was concerned, she’d been stupid six years ago. But she was smarter now, she told herself.

  Her stride long and purposeful, she walked out of the dimly lit interior of the barn into the sunny corral. Then her steps faltered. Across the pen, Roy was standing beside the painted mare, his hand resting fondly on the toe of Charlie’s boot as he looked up at her son. Their son.

  Charlie was grinning from ear to ear, and the happiness on her child’s face suddenly wiped away her resolution to leave. Maybe Roy did bring out the worst in her, but he obviously made Charlie happy. And knowing that, she couldn’t selfishly deny him time with his father. Especially when Charlie needed a male influence in his life. He missed his grandfather.

  “Hi, Mommy!” Charlie called to her, and waved.

  She smiled and waved back at him, then walked over to the two of them. “You look like you’re having a good time,” she said to her son.

  “I am! Brown Sugar is really great! She does everything I tell her to. And she doesn’t keep walking when I say, ‘Whoa.’ See how still she’s standing?”

  Justine nodded, then turned her eyes to Roy. She supposed she should be feeling uncomfortable to face him, after the passionate way she’d returned his kiss in the barn and the heated exchange they’d shared afterward. But she wasn’t. Too much had already passed between them for her to be embarrassed.

  “Yes, I see,” she answered Charlie’s question. “Roy must have trained her well.”

  “He sure did!” Charlie agreed. “She’s not a bit spoiled, like Thundercloud!”

  Her eyes still on Roy, she said, “Roy doesn’t believe in spoiling anything, so that means you better mind him when he tells you to do something.”

  “I will,” Charlie promised.

  He nudged Brown Sugar’s side, and the horse and boy moved away from the two adults. Once he was out of earshot, Roy turned to Justine. “Why did you say I don’t believe in spoiling? You couldn’t have known that about me. Or were you just trying to make Charlie believe I’m mean and crotchety?”

  Her brows arched as she studied his face. “You don’t spoil people or animals, do you?”

  He grimaced. “No. But—”

  “Then why does it bother you to hear it spoken aloud?”

  “I’m not a hard man, Justine.”

  Her soft laugh
was full of disbelief. “Who are you trying to fool, Roy Pardee? You haven’t got a soft spot in your body. You’re hard through and through.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  Shrugging, she turned her eyes on Charlie as he walked the horse slowly around the edge of the corral. “If you’re happy, then I guess there isn’t a thing wrong with it.” She glanced back at him. “Are you going to saddle the bay so we can get started?”

  “You’re still going riding?”

  The surprise on his face curved her lips into an amused smile. “You didn’t think one little kiss from you would send me running back home, did you?”

  This was the Justine he used to know, Roy thought. The sassy redhead who could turn him inside out with just one look. This Justine was far more dangerous to him than the ice goddess she’d tried to be these past few times he was in her company.

  “I never know about you, Justine.”

  She slanted him a wry, daring look. “Good. I don’t want you to know about me,” she said. Then, with a shrug, she added, “Besides, this little outing doesn’t mean anything. You told me so yourself.”

  She was goading him, and maybe that should make him angry. But Roy had never liked cowering, submissive women. He supposed that was why Justine’s fire had always appealed to him.

  “I’ll go saddle the bay,” he muttered.

  She smiled at him. “We’ll be waiting.”

  A few minutes later, Roy guided the three of them south of the house, across the river and into the hills. The horses followed a well-worn cattle trail that wound through the sage and cactus and piñon. Choya was beginning to bloom, deep pink, yellow and red, and now and then a prickly pear offered its roses for view.

  The beauty of the land quickly relaxed Justine, and she gazed around the Pardee spread with keen interest. At first glance, it appeared to be barren of grass, but on closer inspection she could see patches of it hidden between the tufts of sagebrush. Even though the grass was sparse, she, like anyone who raised cattle or horses in New Mexico, knew it possessed a high amount of protein.

  The three of them had ridden a little more than a mile when Justine spotted a herd of cattle in the distance. The mixed breeds were milling around a water tank that was supplied by a windmill pump.

 

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