by Katie Lane
“I don’t think it’s completely cleared up, Way,” Zane said.
A prickle of apprehension tiptoed up Waylon’s spine. “What do you mean?”
“The entire town is talking about how wonderful it is that Spring Hadley is helping out while Gail is gone.”
His shoulders relaxed. “They’ll figure it out soon enough. People are always getting their wires crossed about something.”
“They’re not the only ones who got their wires crossed. I was talking with Dirk right before you got here, and he told me to tell you thanks for giving his sister a job. He said that she needed a little ego boost. I guess Dirk cooked her a special dinner tonight to celebrate her new job.”
Waylon suddenly felt like a fish that had just swallowed a hook whole. It was one thing for the town to think Spring was working for him and another for Dirk Hadley to think it. He was one of the most respected citizens in Bliss. The money he’d invested in the town had helped with its revitalization and people were talking about electing him the next mayor. How was Waylon going to tell Dirk that he hadn’t hired his sister? Of course, maybe he wouldn’t have to tell him. Maybe Spring was telling him right at that very moment. And if that was the case, then he better head over there and try to smooth things over.
He got to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on dinner.”
Carly and Zane exchanged another look before Zane stood. “Sure thing, Way. We’ll make it another night.”
“I’ll pack you up some dinner to go,” Carly said.
Since Dirk had built his and Gracie’s house on Arrington land, it didn’t take Waylon long to get there. The house was a large two-story home that looked like it belonged in a rich neighborhood in Austin rather than smack dab in the middle of Arrington cow country. The five garage doors were made of rich, dark oak that matched the wooden doors of the barn. Waylon pulled up in the circular drive and cut the engine.
On the way over, he’d tried to figure out how to get out of this mess. But he hadn’t come up with one single solution . . . other than giving Spring a job as his assistant. Just the thought had the muscles in his neck tightening. He had enough to worry about with Jonas and Tucker. He didn’t need another employee who needed to be babysat. And Spring would need to be babysat. Not only was she nosy, she was a loose cannon. There was no telling what she would do or say at any given moment.
She was also messy and disorganized. Gail kept her desk neat and orderly. By the time Waylon got back to the office, Gail’s desk looked like it had been hit by a cyclone. Empty Diet Coke cans, candy bar and chip wrappers were intermingled with message memos that held a scribbled language he couldn’t decipher. Each unreadable message was surrounded by a chain of daisy doodles. Considering Spring’s many faults, surely Dirk wouldn’t blame Waylon for not hiring her.
He opened his truck door and hopped out. Dirk and Gracie loved animals, but he decided to leave Sherlock sleeping in the front seat. He did, however, move the container of braised beef Carly had given him to the bed of the truck. Food had always trumped sleep with Sherlock.
Once Waylon was standing on the front porch, he had second thoughts about Dirk understanding why he couldn’t hire his sister. Dirk loved his sisters and probably didn’t see their faults. Which meant that Waylon might not get a warm welcome. He could only hope that Dirk wasn’t the type who threw a punch before he listened to reason. But Dirk didn’t look ticked when he opened the door. He wore the same easygoing smile he always did.
“Well, speak of the devil. We were just talking about you.”
Waylon took off his hat. “Hey, Dirk.” He smiled at the baby Dirk held. “Hey, Luana.”
Dirk looked a little confused. “How did you know this was Luana? Everyone but family has trouble telling the girls apart.”
“She has that cute dimple in her cheek.” He cleared his throat. “So I guess Spring told you about what happened this—”
Gracie appeared, holding Lucinda and Luella, and cut him off. “Hi, Waylon.” Waylon had grown up with Gracie and her cousin Becky. They were two of the few women he felt completely comfortable around. She stepped out on the porch and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Come on in. I’m sure you’re already stuffed with Carly’s braised beef, but we’ve got apple pie for dessert. And Dirk’s apple pie almost beats Ms. Marble’s.”
Dirk flashed a smile. “Why, thank you, honey.” He tucked an arm around her and gave her a quick kiss before he turned his smile on Waylon. “And I owe you more than a slice of apple pie. Thanks, Way. I sure appreciate what you did for Spring. She’s thrilled with her new job.”
All Waylon could do was stand there feeling like a real heel. Obviously, Spring had more than a few screws loose. He’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t have a job. But maybe she’d been too embarrassed to tell her brother after he’d made her a big celebration dinner. Waylon understood. It would be hard to set things straight with Dirk, Gracie, and three cute little babies smiling back at you. He certainly couldn’t do it.
“Thank you for the offer of pie,” he said. “But I was wondering if I could have a word with Spring?”
“She’s not here,” Dirk said. “She insisted on staying in that trailer of hers. No doubt because she’s still a little mad at me.”
“She’s not mad at you,” Gracie said. “She just wants to prove to everyone that she can make it on her own.”
“Spring does not do things on her own. I give her one night,” Dirk said. “Once she discovers she can’t take hour-long showers, she’ll be back.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I think your sister is more determined than she looks.”
Stubborn was more like it.
“Where’s her trailer?” Waylon asked. He hadn’t seen it when he pulled up.
“She moved it a couple miles up the road to the acreage the Arringtons gave to my sisters. Which is another reason she’ll be back. She’s never slept out in the country in her life. She doesn’t realize how dark and isolated it can feel.” Dirk suddenly looked concerned. “In fact, maybe I’d better go check on her.”
“I’ll check on her,” Waylon said as he pulled on his hat. “I’ll give you a call after I make sure she’s okay.” Once he talked with Spring, he’d need to explain things to Dirk. Hopefully, he would understand.
It wasn’t hard to find the trailer. With light pouring from every tiny window, it shone like a pink beacon in the moonless night. Waylon parked on the road and got out. Sherlock must’ve had to take a leak because he jumped down and followed Waylon through the tall winter grass to the trailer, stopping to mark his territory every few feet.
Right before they reached the front door, a movement in the juniper trees caught his attention. Normally, Waylon wouldn’t have paid it much mind. There were all kinds of wild critters roaming the Arrington land from deer to armadillos. But Joe Foster’s cow was still missing, and he wanted to make sure it hadn’t somehow found its way onto Arrington land. He instructed Sherlock to sit and stay, then moved slowly toward the trees. If it was the cow, he didn’t want to startle it and send it running into the next county.
He came around the trees just in time to see a mule deer bounce away. He was about to head back to Spring’s trailer when a quick movement in his peripheral vision caused him to instinctively whirl around and throw up an arm to fend off the object coming toward him. Something hit his forearm before he knocked it out of his assailant’s hand. He would have wrestled the attacker to the ground if not for the feminine cry of pain.
He relaxed his defensive posture. “Spring?” A groan of either pain or annoyance was his only answer. He squinted at her shadowy form. “Are you okay?”
“No. I think you broke my wrist.”
He wanted to ask her what the hell she’d been doing, but his concern had him shelving the question and carefully guiding Spring back to the trailer. The door stood wide open as if she’d raced out of it. He helped her up the steps.
The insid
e of the trailer was as messy as the last time he’d been there. He moved the yellow dress and a shoe off the bench seat of the little dining booth and guided her down to it.
She wore a pink nightshirt with “Sleep Happy” written across the front in rainbow letters. And it was obvious by the two stiff peaks poking through the thin material that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He tried to ignore this fact as he crouched in front of her. “Let me see your wrist.”
She continued to cradle her hand. “Would you like to explain what you were doing sneaking around my trailer, Sheriff?”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” He stopped when he realized that was exactly what he had been doing. “Okay, I was sneaking, but only to catch a cow.”
“You came out here looking for a missing cow?”
“No, I came out here to make sure you understood that I’m not hiring you.” He held out his hand. “Now let me see your wrist.”
“It’s okay. It just stings a little.” When he continued to hold out his hand, she heaved a sigh and rested her hand in his. Her skin was soft, her fingers long with closely trimmed nails that were painted a bright yellow with daisies on the thumbnail. When he didn’t see any marks, he turned her hand over. A red welt marred the smooth pale skin of her wrist. The sight made him cringe. He’d never hurt a woman in his life. Not even Cheryl Lee Denson when she’d gotten plastered on mulberry wine and tried to body slam him for refusing to let her drive drunk.
He gently ran his thumb back and forth over the red mark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just reacted.”
“It was my fault. I should’ve looked closer before I swung.”
He continued to rub her wrist. He couldn’t seem to stop. “What did you hit me with, anyway?”
“The non-stick aluminum skillet Autumn got me last year for Christmas.”
“I hate to point this out, but you can’t knock a man out with an aluminum skillet. It needs to be cast iron.”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes and sent him an exasperated look. “I think I figured that out.”
He couldn’t help but smile. The woman was annoying, but she was also pretty darned cute. Still, he needed to remain firm if he wanted to get things straight between them. “You figured that out, but you can’t seem to figure out that I’m not hiring you to fill in for Gail.”
She tipped her head and studied him. “And why is that exactly?”
He reached over and pulled the heart-printed dishtowel off the oven handle, then he opened the mini-fridge and took out the tiniest ice cube tray from the tiniest freezer he’d ever seen in his life. He popped the small cubes into the towel, then held the towel against her wrist before he answered her question.
“You have no experience working for a sheriff’s department. You work in retail.”
“True, but I can answer phones and take messages. That’s more than you have now.”
She had a point. One he wasn’t about to concede. He did not want to work with Spring, and he didn’t need to explain why. “I’ve been doing just fine,” he said.
“That’s hogwash and you know it. I must’ve taken thirty calls today.”
“Thirty? You only took around ten messages.”
“Because half of the calls weren’t things a sheriff needs to deal with—like Mrs. Miller calling to report that all the neighborhood cats need to be neutered.”
He shook his head. “Mrs. Miller calls three times a day about something. Cats needing neutered, dogs pooping on her lawn, a dead pigeon that hit her front window.”
“I think she just needs someone to talk to. Her family has all moved away.”
“I run a sheriff’s office, not a counseling center.”
“I don’t mind talking with her, Waylon.”
It was the first time she’d used his name without his title, and the sound of it coming from her lips was distracting. As were the twilight-blue eyes that stared back at him from only inches away. For a second, he forgot what they were talking about, and he had to shake his head to clear it. “You’re not working for me.”
She studied him long and hard before a smile broke over her face. “This isn’t about me not having experience, is it?” She sent him a knowing look. “You’re hot for me, Sheriff. And you’re afraid that if I work in your office, you won’t be able to resist me.”
Chapter Nine
The sheriff looked like Spring had hit him over the head with a cast iron skillet. He was still crouched in front of her, and at her words, he fell on his butt and banged his head on the pantry door. She bit back a smile. She didn’t know why she enjoyed teasing the man so much. Maybe because he was so straight-laced.
She held out the dishtowel of ice. “Here. You need this more than I do.” He didn’t acknowledge the ice. He just stared at her as if she was some kind of alien from another planet.
She smiled. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed the sexual chemistry between us.” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out so she continued. “It’s no big deal. I’m sure I’m not the only woman who you’ve been attracted to. And you certainly aren’t the first man to light my pilot light. But just because you find someone hot, doesn’t mean you have to go to bed with them.”
He blinked those pretty green eyes, but still couldn’t seem to speak. And that was probably a good thing. It would give her plenty of time to convince him she was the right girl for the job.
Because after the celebratory dinner Dirk made her and the congratulatory phone call from Granny Bon, she wasn’t about to go back and tell her family that she hadn’t really gotten the job. She was going to get this job. And she was going to be the best darn assistant the sheriff had ever had.
“I mean it’s not like we’re randy fifteen-year-olds, Waylon,” she said. “Is it okay if I call you Waylon? Sheriff Kendall just seems a little weird when we’re going to be working together. Anyway, we’re both old enough to realize that there is more to a relationship than sex. No matter how great someone is in bed, it’s the time out of bed that really counts. And you and I are not a good match. We’re two completely different people. I’m an extrovert. You’re an introvert. I love people. You seem to hate them. I’m a big city girl and you’re satisfied living in a small little town trying to prove that you’re a good sheriff.”
He finally found his voice. “Excuse me?”
She cleared her throat. “I mean you’re satisfied living in a small town and being a good sheriff.” She moved on. “And knowing that we’re complete opposites, there’s no way we’re going to let a little sexual chemistry get us to do something that we’ll regret later. So you have nothing to worry about. Even if you wanted to boink me on your desk, I wouldn’t let you. Your honor is safe with me.”
He choked, and his eyes bugged out. Even bugged, they were beautiful. The prettiest green she’d ever seen. They went perfectly with his sun-streaked brown hair that was mussed and sexy.
He cleared his throat. “My honor is safe because I have no desire to boink you over my desk.”
“I didn’t say over. I said on. Which only confirms that you have been having naughty thoughts about me, Waylon.” She needed to stop with the teasing, but damn it was hard when he was such an easy target.
“Sheriff Kendall,” he growled. He used the table to pull himself to his feet. “And I have not been having naughty thoughts about you. The reason I’m not hiring you is because you annoy me. You’re too blunt. You’re too messy. You’re too nosy. And you’re too . . .“ he looked at her yellow dress flung over the table, “. . .bright!”
He turned for the door. Luckily, the door handle was tricky, and he couldn’t get it opened. Which gave Spring a few seconds to come up with another plan. Sometimes having overactive tear ducts came in handy.
She blinked some tears into her eyes before she spoke in a soft voice. “You’re right. I am too blunt. And messy. And nosy. Even my own sister hates me.” She sniffed.
He slowly turned. “You can stop anytime. I’m not going to fall for a
few tears.” But he was already falling. She could see it in his terrified eyes. “I’m sure your sister loves you.”
“I don’t know about that.” More tears filled her eyes, and these she didn’t have to force. “Summer has always found fault with me. She thinks I’m a real ditz who is immature and irresponsible. And come to find out, the rest of my family feels the same way. Everyone thinks I’m not smart enough to take care of myself.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away. “And they might be right. I can’t remember important things, or manage money, or even choose the right pan to use as a weapon. I’m pretty much a failure at everything I do. You’re right not to want to hire me.”
Waylon stared at her for only a second before he blew out a long sigh. He held up a finger. “One week. We’ll try it for one week. But if you screw up once—I mean one time—you’re gone. No excuses, no tears, and no begging.” He pulled a bandana from his back pocket and handed it to her.
She ignored it and jumped up to give him a big hug. Because if anyone needed a hug it was the sheriff. “Thank you! I promise you won’t regret it. I’m going to be the best sheriff’s helper in the entire state of Texas.” She stepped back. “Make that the entire country. I’m going to be efficient and hardworking. And if you don’t like my work, I’ll leave without one little ol’ word.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“You’re right. I’ll say, ‘Goodbye, Sheriff Kendall. I appreciate the opportunity to prove my worth.’”
“Waylon. If we’re going to be working together, you can call me Waylon.”
She shook her head. “You were right before. It’s best if we keep things on a professional level. I’ll call you Sheriff Kendall and you can call me Miss Hadley.”
He nodded. “All right, Miss Hadley. I’ll expect to see you at seven thirty tomorrow morning.”
