Sheriff Takes a Bride

by Gayle Kaye

  “The other evening I followed her. She met up with a few of her friends, unearthed the still where they’d hidden it—”

  “The still. Just as I thought. Where was it? Where—?”

  Hallie wasn’t sure she knew this man. At least this was a side of him she’d never seen before, a side she wasn’t sure she totally understood.

  “Sam Wilhelm’s old place,” she returned, just wanting this to be over. She didn’t like Cam’s interrogation of her. He was a lawman, first, last and always.

  “Wilhelm?” He gave her a questioning glance.

  “The property next to Granny’s,” she explained. “Sam died some years ago, and it’s been abandoned land ever since.”

  He nodded that he followed. “Go on.”

  She drew a shaky breath. “It was there—the still, under a pile of brush. The group assembled the parts and made some of their brew. I stepped in, dismantled the thing and sent the ladies packing. After I gave them a stern lecture.”

  He paced in front of her. “But you didn’t see fit to call me, even to tell me about it after the fact? I’m the sheriff here, the law, not you, Hallie—despite your good intentions.”

  “I couldn’t tell you, Cam. I love my grandmother.”

  “Then, damn it, Hallie, you shouldn’t have promised you would. Who are these ladies? I want names.”

  Hallie had made another promise—this one to Granny’s friends. Whether it was right or wrong. Whether Cam liked it or not “Not until I talk to them first, Cam. I’ll get them to come in and face the music on their own.”

  “Yeah—sure you will.” His tone said he didn’t believe her. “I could lock you up for not cooperating, for withholding evidence, you know.”

  Hallie stood up. “Then do it, Cam. If that’s what you want to do—do it.”

  Damn the woman, Cam thought. She stood there so brazen, so tough. Locking her up wouldn’t solve one damned thing, he knew. She could be as contrary as Pearl.

  He’d get nothing from her if she refused to talk.

  “Go home, Hallie, go home before I change my mind and toss you in a cell and throw the key away.”

  He turned from her and marched inside, leaving her standing there, staring after him.

  He was angry—too angry to deal with her at the moment.

  Angry—and hurt by her betrayal.

  He slammed over to his desk and slumped into the chair behind it. Suddenly he hated this job. And he wished he’d never set eyes on Hallie Cates.

  Chapter Ten

  “Moonshining?”

  The lawyer peered over his glasses at Granny when Hallie finished explaining the reason for their visit to his office. A slight smile had twitched at the edges of his mouth once or twice—and Hallie knew he’d been struggling to hang on to his professionalism.

  It might have been humorous to Hallie as well—if she weren’t so...personally involved.

  “That’s the charge,” she returned, giving her grandmother a sidelong glance. The woman was perched a little too stiffly on the edge of her chair. Granny wasn’t comfortable being here, explaining her case to a lawyer and asking for help. She seldom asked for help from anyone—Hallie included. Only when her back was against the wall.

  And Hallie would have to admit that was where the woman was at.

  The lawyer took off his glasses, polished them thoughtfully for a moment, then slipped them back on. “I didn’t know there was anyone around who knew how to make spirits these days,” he said, studying Granny Pearl again. “I thought all the old...talent had died.”

  “Well, young man, this old talent’s very much alive—and I make a darned good sauce, if I do say so myself,” she snapped back.

  “Granny, I, uh, wouldn’t go around boasting about it—given the circumstances you’re in,” Hallie warned, her gaze narrowed on the tiny woman.

  “I didn’t mean any offense, Miz’ Pearl,” the attorney said respectfully. Ward Buchanan was his name. A middle-aged man with a slightly balding dome pushing through the top of his hairline. “My great grandpappy made some fine stuff in his day. I just wasn’t aware there were any stills in working order around here, unless maybe they were in a museum.”

  Granny had been eyeing him warily, not sure she wanted to place her trust in someone she hadn’t known from the time he was in knee pants. But Ward Buchanan came well recommended, so Hallie hoped she’d relax and trust the man.

  They needed his help. Especially after Granny’s makings had disturbed the town’s peace in a big way the other night.

  “Are you sayin’ I’m relic age? My still should be sittin’ ’longside some old dinosaur bones?” Granny grumbled, her forehead crimped into a frown.

  Ward Buchanan leaned across his polished maple desk, looking eye to eye with his client. “Miz’ Pearl, you might need to place that still of yours alongside dinosaur bones—considering the trouble you’re in. Now, I suggest we start planning your defense.”

  Yes, Hallie thought, they needed to get down to business.

  Granny was in serious trouble. And she and Hallie were in this alone. There would be no kind word from Cam—and definitely no leniency.

  His coldness the other day had cut into her like a knife. She’d hoped he might understand how she felt, why she’d tried to protect her grandmother, why she hadn’t told him all she knew—even though she understood how he felt about that.

  But Cam had shut her out, sharply, coldly. The anger she saw in his face, the mistrust she’d read in his eyes, had hurt. She’d hoped he might at least try to see her side, understand that Granny was family. She’d hoped family meant something to him, as well. But Cam had shut himself away from feelings, from understanding. It was all black or white to him. There was nothing in between.

  She didn’t condone what Granny had done—but she wasn’t sure Cam knew that. Her grandmother had broken the law and would have to pay the consequences for it.

  And Hallie was paying a few consequences herself.

  She’d lost Cam, and that hurt more than she’d ever imagined.

  She’d made a mistake of the heart in this town once before, and now, it seemed, she’d made another.

  She wished she’d never come here. But then, she hadn’t had a choice. She’d needed to come for Granny’s sake.

  She hadn’t needed to fall in love with Cam, however. That she could have avoided—if only she’d remembered past mistakes.

  Her folly had only hurt her—and it hadn’t helped Granny, either.

  The consultation with the attorney took another thirty minutes. Ward Buchanan queried Granny about a few more facts of the case, then offered his four-point plan, which would center on Granny’s age, the fact that this was her first offense, her good standing in the community and that Granny was contrite.

  “What do you think will happen with her?” Hallie asked him when he was through. She liked his plan; short of the insanity defense, it was the next most plausible.

  Buchanan steepled his fingers in front of him. “She goes before Judge McBain. He’s not a man known for going easy on the people who appear in his court, by any means, but I think he’ll take our plea into account. She’ll no doubt get off with probation and some community service.” Then he turned to Granny. “I would advise that you not remind Judge McBain that you’d once powdered his now overly large backside, however,” he warned. “Unless you want a stiffer sentence.”

  Granny snorted, started to say something saucy, then apparently thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut.

  Hallie hoped that was the way she remained in the courtroom, as well.

  Cam shuffled a few more papers on his desk, not really seeing what was on them, not having any burning desire to work on them. The only desire burning in him at the moment was taking back his attitude last week with Hallie.

  He wished he’d handled things differently—but how, he didn’t know. What Hallie had done, she had done. And Cam couldn’t trust her.

  Trust meant a whole lot to him. It me
ant everything.

  And Hallie knew that. Hadn’t they talked about it that night at dinner in Eureka? How much had she known then—and hadn’t told him?

  It all burned in Cam’s gut. It made him cranky as hell during the day and kept him awake every night No, it was missing Hallie that kept him awake.

  Until his eyes felt like two raw sockets and his gut like a knotted hot poker.

  He’d let his guard down somewhere along the way—and allowed Hallie to sashay right past. He rubbed his forehead, cursing the drumming headache that had been a persistent part of his life the past week, cursing his own damned foolishness, his...misjudgment for coming so close to falling in love with the woman. Close? Oh, no—close wasn’t an accurate assessment—he had fallen in love with Hallie.

  And now his only problem was figuring a way to get over it. To forget everything she’d meant to him, forget that sweet smile, the way she’d felt in his arms...the way she kissed him back so full of passion and giving.

  Oh, damn! He gathered up the papers in front of him. unread, and tossed them willy-nilly into his in box to look over later. There wasn’t a thing in them that couldn’t wait until he’d gotten over this disease of the heart. In a thousand years or so.

  Cam heard the office door creak open and glanced up, happy for a diversion. But that happiness was short-lived when he saw five primly dressed old ladies inching their way inside.

  Miss Hattie, the postmistress, was in the lead. She strutted closer, the others in a tight trail behind her.

  “Ladies...” Cam nodded a greeting, feeling certain that trouble was in the offing. “What can I do for you?”

  They consulted each other silently for a short moment, then Hattie spoke up. “We’ve come to turn ourselves in,” she said.

  Like he’d thought, trouble!

  He didn’t need this.

  His eyes darted from Hattie to the others, each in turn. “All of you?”

  “All of us,” they chorused as if they’d spent the last two evenings rehearsing it.

  Cora James put out her arms, “You may handcuff us if you like, Sheriff.”

  “Yes,” the others agreed.

  Cam glanced at five pairs of arms, proud but trembling in front of him and wondered how these frail little ladies had ever managed to transport a still over hilly terrain. And what they were doing here in his office—tonight—when the last thing on his mind was arresting anyone.

  Hallie. He’d bet she had something to do with this. She’d said she’d talk to the women. Was that the reason they were here, waiting for him to slap the cuffs on them?

  Cam groaned. All he wanted to do was go home and drown his sorrows in a cold can of beer and try to forget the way Hallie looked in the moonlight, that misty smile of hers, the softness of her skin.

  “We intend to stand side by side with Pearl in the courtroom,” Hattie said. “We’re all as guilty as she is—so you can book us, Sheriff.”

  Book? The ladies had been watching a little too much television, Cam decided. And as for them being equally guilty... They may have been in on Pearl’s little enterprise—but Pearl was the ringleader. There was no doubt about that. It was her recipe. Her still.

  Cam didn’t want to be the one to figure out degrees of guilt. At the moment he was very much wishing he’d never arrested Pearl Cates.

  “It’s late, ladies, why don’t you come back tomorrow,” Cam suggested evenly. Maybe by then he could figure out what to do with the women.

  “Oh, no,” they cried.

  “We want to be arrested,” insisted Miss Hattie.

  Cam shoved a hand through his hair. That wouldn’t get him named the town’s favorite citizen, he knew. But what was a sheriff to do? “Okay, ladies, you’re all under arrest.” He cleared his throat. “And released on your own recognizance. But—don’t leave town.”

  As if the fivesome would go more than thirty miles away—but it sounded official.

  “Aren’t you going to fingerprint us?” Cora asked, not certain the group was getting the full treatment.

  Why did the law have to be so damned difficult? Cam rubbed his jaw, feeling his five o’clock shadow thickening. It was getting late—and he wanted to go home. “You ladies got any priors?”

  They consulted each other, then shook their heads.

  “Good. Then we can dispense with the fingerprints.” He hoped they didn’t ask about mug shots.

  They didn’t.

  “Are—are we free to go then?” Hattie asked, clearly disappointed there wasn’t going to be more—probably so she could tell her great-grandchildren.

  “That’s it, girls.” He stood up and ushered them toward the door.

  When they’d finally tottered out into the night Cam let out a weary sigh. At least the evening had taken his mind off Hallie.

  Temporarily.

  But later his thoughts would be back, he knew—along with the torment those thoughts inflicted.

  Maybe when this was over, he’d think about taking a vacation. A long one. To someplace exotic.

  Someplace that might make him forget.

  For the past week Hallie had avoided going into Greens Hollow because she didn’t want to run into Cam. Forgetting the man was hard enough without seeing him looking so tempting, so handsome, in his uniform. But today Granny insisted on running errands.

  When Hallie suggested they drive to Harrison for those errands Granny gaped at her. “That’s miles out of the way. What’s got into you, girl? You been hangin’ around this cabin, stickin’ to the place closer’n glue.” She narrowed her eyes at her granddaughter. “It’s that sheriff, isn’t it? You’re tryin’ to avoid him—and it’s all because of me.”

  Granny had been moping ever since they’d returned from the attorney’s office the other day, convinced she’d made a fine mess of their lives because of her moonshining. Hallie had wanted Granny to put on the brakes some, to behave and forget her wayward ways—but strangely she found she missed the feistiness in the old woman. Granny wasn’t being Granny when she was glum and blaming herself, and Hallie didn’t want to add to that by letting her think her problem with Cam was totally because of her.

  “No, Granny, Cam and I got too...close. That part was my fault,” she said. “You’d warned me not to get mixed up with someone from here again. Cam and I are...too different, but I failed to see that. It really had nothing to do with you.”

  Only peripherally, Hallie thought. Granny’s activities may have been the trigger, but the problem went deeper. It went to who Hallie was and who Cam was.

  She wanted a man who’d understand why family was important, who’d be there no matter what—who wouldn’t run away when someone was in trouble. Like Tommy Lamont had done. She wanted a man who wanted to be part of a family, who wanted children and love—and who didn’t hide his feelings behind pain and unforgiveness.

  Cam would never be that man, no matter how much she wanted him to be.

  “Just how serious did this get between you and Cam Osborne?” Granny wanted to know.

  Serious enough to get her heart broken, Hallie thought. Serious enough she wasn’t certain she’d get over the man any time soon.

  “Look, Granny, don’t worry about me. I’m tough, remember? And I got it all from you.”

  Granny gave her a glance that said she wasn’t sure Hallie looked so tough right about now.

  They went to Greens Hollow to do Granny’s errands. All the while Hallie kept an eye out for Cam. When she didn’t see him, she wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or... disappointed.

  She left Granny discussing the price of a chuck roast with the proprietor of the general store and went outside to wait and to read the magazine she’d just bought. She’d only flipped through half of it when she saw Cam coming out of the sheriff’s office.

  He saw her a quick moment later, hesitated a second, as if struggling with himself as to what to do next. Hallie couldn’t dart back inside, though that was very much what she wanted to do. Perhaps neither co
uld Cam, because he started across the street toward her.

  Her heart thudded erratically and her palms grew damp on the magazine. After Granny’s court appearance was over, she could escape from here—and she wouldn’t have to worry about sweating palms or racing heartbeats again. At least not around this man.

  He looked beat, Hallie thought when he neared. Had he been working hard? His usual smile was absent, as if it took too much energy to bring it to life. His eyes were dark, hooded, but not as cold as on the day they’d argued. He searched her face, as if wanting to read something in it, something about her. What, she didn’t know.

  “Hello, Hallie,” he said coolly.

  “Cam.” She didn’t know how else to respond. Suddenly she didn’t know what to say to this man she’d once talked with so easily.

  “How’s Pearl?” he asked.

  “She’s fine. We...she saw a lawyer the other day. Ward Buchanan. Thank you for the referral. We liked him. He seems very competent.”

  The conversation was as stiff as Hallie felt on the inside.

  “Miss Hattie and the group paid me a little...visit at the jail the other night,” he said. “I suppose that was your doing.”

  “My doing?”

  Hallie’s face held a hint of confusion, but Cam had learned not to trust her feign of innocence. Not anymore. “Yeah,” he went on, “they wanted to be arrested, had their arms out for the cuffs, even demanded I fingerprint the lot of them.”

  Her eyes were wide, and he was certain he saw an unbidden smile edge to her lips. She thought it funny? Well, Cam hadn’t thought so. The whole scene had made him look like some kind of Simon Legree.

  Hell, maybe he was. His whole life in this town seemed to be arresting the older generation. That made him some kind of an ogre, didn’t it?

  “Cam, I had nothing to do with that. I told you I would talk to the ladies, and I did. I suggested they see Ward, or someone, in case there were charges against—” She stopped. “You...you didn’t arrest them, did you?”