The Sheriff's Bride: Country Brides & Cowboy Boots (Cobble Creek Romance Book 1)

by Kimberly Krey

  Dang, he smelled good. And why did it feel so natural to be with him? To hold on to his hand, smile at him, laugh with him? “You should feel it in July,” she said. “You’ll be fanning yourself throughout the entire fireworks show.”

  He lifted a brow. “That hot, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  They drove to Trent’s place with the windows down, to a part of town Jessie didn’t frequent. East of Main, along a street with a mix of grand homes, mostly Victorians and colonial styles. Until they came to his. For some reason she’d been expecting an old rambler with dying grass and a worn-down roof. Something a large family had done a number on over the years.

  But as Trent pulled into the wooded area off the street, curved along a narrow, windy driveway, Jessie saw that wasn’t the case at all. Massive logs of rich, brown wood created a timeless-looking cabin home. Several light posts stood around the structure, cradling rustic-looking lanterns that lit up the outside of the home. Towering evergreens caught hints of that light, the neighboring giants creating that mountainside appeal.

  “This is your home?”

  Trent’s eyes squinted as he pulled into the driveway. “This is it,” he mumbled. The garage cracked open, revealing what looked like a home gym on one half. Jessie took in the lifting bench, weights, and other equipment as he pulled alongside. This explained the muscular arms and chest she’d seen on him.

  “How much of your stuff is already here at the house?” she asked.

  “All of it, besides what I have at the inn. There’s a back entrance to the basement with double doors. My furniture’s down there for now.” He shut off the truck, came around to her side, and helped her down. “I thought maybe I’d be able to stay here while they worked on it, but I found out soon enough that wasn’t going to work. They had to shut off the electricity for a lot of time, turned off the water, too.” He shrugged. “But they’re finishing up a lot quicker than I figured they would.”

  He led her up a set of stairs to the front door. The large porch was clean and free from décor except for one solemn chair facing the surrounding forest. Was this where he came to spend his time after work? Sitting outside the house he’d live in soon, enjoying the nature around him?

  Trent unlocked the door and pushed it open, reaching a hand in to flick on the lights. “Power’s back on for the most part now that they’ve updated the wiring. Once they’re finished with the plumbing updates, the water will be on, and I’ll be in business.”

  Jessie eyed the flooring as she stepped inside. Rustic-looking tones of slated rock gave the place a current feel, the color complemented by the warm shade of paint on the walls and the copper fixtures hanging from the vaulted ceilings.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. “So spacious. Did you pick out this flooring?”

  He nodded, closing the door behind them. “Yeah. Looked like it’d be easy to clean.”

  Jessie stepped farther inside the place, saving the upstairs for last. The oversized front room led to a wide dining room entrance. Jessie flicked on a set of lights and spun in place. The cozy-looking dining nook was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. “Can you see neighboring houses from in here?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  Trent sauntered in, hands tucked in his pockets, and shook his head. “Nope. Just a whole lot of pines.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” She wished it were light enough to see the view for herself.

  “Kitchen’s still torn apart,” Trent said as Jessie stepped through the next open doorway, turning on another set of lights—recessed lighting, mostly. But some hung over an unfinished bar: red fixtures that looked like upside-down wineglasses.

  “I should have waited to install the lights,” he said. “They’re getting all dusty from the cabinetry work and such.”

  It smelled like fresh wood, and Jessie pulled in a breath of it with a grin. “So what kind of flooring will they do in here?”

  “Travertine,” he said. “And these countertops will be granite.”

  “That will look great.” She liked the way he’d chosen to stay with earthy materials and tones. It maintained the integrity of the cabin. Still, it could use a few touches to soften the place up.

  The stairs matched the ones out front—split logs fastened to matching posts. “The upstairs,” he explained, “will be the only part of the house with carpet.” He flicked on lights to three empty bedrooms, two nearly finished bathrooms, and a walk-in closet, too.

  “I love this,” she said. “I bet you can’t wait to get in here.” She’d said it in a matter-of-fact kind of way, but it came back at her like a sharp boomerang to the gut. Soon, Trent would move out of the inn and into this place.

  “It’ll be nice,” he explained. “I’m hoping it will be finished in time for us to bring our fish out here to fry up this weekend.”

  Jessie spun around. “That soon?” Of course, it made sense. From what she could tell, there wasn’t much left to be done.

  “Oh,” he said, eyes growing wide with concern. “Was I supposed to give you notice? I’m not positive, but—”

  “No, no. Don’t worry about that.” She shook her head. “I … whenever you’re ready to head out, let me know. We’ll get you squared away.” The ache in her center remained. It was a very real sadness at the idea of not seeing him daily.

  “Well,” Trent said as he flicked off the bedroom lights to follow her down the stairs, “I would show you the basement, but all my furniture is crammed into it. Besides that, the basement is boring. I’m pretty much leaving it as it was when I bought the place.”

  “What’s the backyard like?” she asked.

  “A lot of it’s forest property,” he said, leading her through the kitchen. “There’s a trail leading to a fire pit. Not a whole lot of grass to speak of, mainly because it’s so shady with all the trees. But there is a nice little play set out here. Swing and a slide. I might see if Benny and Darcy want it.” He flicked a switch by the sliding glass doors, illuminating the small, abandoned swing set. Something about it made Jessie’s heart ache anew. Or was it what Trent said that had done it? He’d sounded certain that he wouldn’t need it for himself down the road. Like there would be no children in his future. Of course, if he didn’t want a family, why buy such a big house?

  “It’s a heck of a lot more house than I need,” Trent said as if reading her mind. “But I got a great deal, and the resale should be nice, once I decide to move on.”

  Another sting. It sounded almost as if he liked the idea of moving from one place to the next. But why should she care? No strings. Freedom. Remember? She stepped over to the sliding glass, rubbing her hands over her upper arms to warm them. “This place is wonderful.”

  “I was thinking,” Trent said, stepping his way closer to her side. “Maybe once it’s finished, you can show me a good place to get rugs. Maybe help me pick a few out.”

  She turned to look at him, liking the idea already.

  “I noticed how you have several rugs over the hardwood floors in your place. You seem to be pretty good at that sort of thing.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’d love to.”

  From her periphery, Jessie could see his profile in the reflection on the glass. He was handsome from every angle. And appealing in other ways, too. Ways she started counting on the drive back to the inn. While mentally listing one great quality after the next, she dared herself to ask him to join her for hot cocoa out on the back porch. Or maybe iced tea. She told herself it would be natural. That Trent wouldn’t take it as a come-on or anything.

  But as they pulled into the parking lot, walked up the steps of the Country Quilt Inn, Jessie couldn’t make herself spit it out. Was she hoping to kiss him again? Is that what she wanted? After all, that’s what she’d decided she’d gain from whatever this was—a good time minus the risk that comes along with a relationship.

  Only that isn’t what she wanted most. Of course, she wouldn’t mind kissing him again, but more than that, Jessie wanted to
get to know him better.

  What was his past like? His parents? Friends? Ex-girlfriends?

  “Well,” she said as they stepped into the bed and breakfast, “thank you for showing me your place. Looks like a really good investment.”

  He held her gaze for a flash, then gave her a stiff nod. “Yeah. I hope so. And I’m, uh …” He glanced down at his shoes while shifting his weight from one foot to another. “I’m glad you agreed to come. I’m looking forward to Saturday.”

  “Me too.”

  He took a step forward, reached an arm out, and patted her lower back in an awkward almost-hug. “Night.”

  Jessie watched as he went up the stairs. “Night.” Ugh.

  Chapter 16

  Since when had Trent regressed to the awkward adolescent side-hugs from his past? What a joke. And just what were his intentions where Jessie was concerned? Being in his line of work, he often sniffed out the real intent behind people’s actions. He’d gotten pretty good at it, too. But who would sniff out the truth behind his desire to be with Jessie after that pathetic goodbye?

  Still, even as Trent tried pretending he didn’t know, an inner voice spoke up. You want to be more than friends, dummy. Admit it.

  But why? Why, when he’d so easily sworn off relationships for so long?

  Had he? Look at the home he’d bought, for crying out loud. If he were putting together clues for a case, he’d definitely conclude that buying a home that size with a swing set waiting in the wing said a guy wanted the whole shebang. Wife, kids, and the loyal dog too.

  Investment, he reminded himself. It was a good investment.

  Yet, as Trent went about the next few days, he thought back on the way he had watched Jessie’s reaction about the swing set. And then when he’d mentioned turning the basement into one giant game room. What was he doing? Hoping she’d have the same thoughts he had? Fantasies about having it all.

  So how did the lines suddenly become so blurry? Why had he thought he could lead a girl on with no interest of being together in the future?

  But that was just it. Those weren’t the lines that he’d blurred. The fact was, even if he had committed himself to a life alone, Trent would be willing to go back on that. If he could have a life with Jessie.

  The realization struck him as he neared the bar downtown. There’d been a scuffle there earlier that week, and Trent planned to keep a better eye on the place—even if it was midday.

  He pulled into the dusty lot and sat there while gripping the wheel with both hands. Was Trent Lockheart really willing to toss his commitment fears aside to be with a woman he’d known for only a few weeks?

  A bit of relief swept in as he realized that he couldn’t really answer that. There was no need to decide now. He’d simply take life a day at a time, like he’d done since the accident.

  A buzz sounded from his utility belt. As a habit, Trent reached for his CB first. “Oh,” he mumbled, snagging his cell phone instead. “This is Trent,” he said as he answered.

  “It’s done.”

  Trent knew Seth’s raspy voice anywhere. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Sinks and countertops came in yesterday. We worked late into the night getting them installed. I’d say give it the night to set, and you should be good to move on in by morning.”

  A pointed lump of dread sank into his throat. On one hand, it was great news—he and Jessie would be able to head to his home after fishing and cook it there. On the downside, he wouldn’t see Jessie very often once he moved out. “Thanks, Seth,” he said. “That’s great news. Can’t wait to move in.”

  “Why’d you think this was a good idea?” Benny grumbled behind the butt end of a leather sofa. “Who puts furniture in the basement before moving it to the right place?”

  Trent grunted as he backed up the patio steps, hoisting his end higher to get over the banisters. “Someone who doesn’t have any place else to put it. I got all-new flooring. Not to mention new paint and baseboards. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Anything but this,” Benny said, lowering his side once they got to the deck.

  Trent turned his head to look at the open sliding door. “Almost there.” Trickles of sweat slid down his face, back, and chest. “Once we’ve got this in place, if you’ll help me with the kitchen table I’ll get the rest on my own.” Chairs, side tables, bed frames, and mattresses. The same went for the boxed items—pots, pans, dishes, and silverware.

  “Nah,” Benny said, motioning that he was ready to lift it through the entry. “I already told Darcy I’d be gone for a few hours. May as well help you with some of the other stuff you’ve got down there.”

  With the base of the sofa cradled in his hands, Trent stepped over the sliding doorframe. “Let’s tip it back so we can get the legs through.” He watched as each of the four couch legs cleared before asking the question that came to mind. “How’s Darcy doing? Everything good with the pregnancy?”

  “Right on track,” Benny said as they rounded the island bar in the kitchen. “We read those baby books about what to expect. Says the baby’s about the size of a sweet potato.”

  “A sweet potato? That’s still pretty small, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s getting real big now. In fact, it says Darcy should start feeling movement any day. Kicking or twisting. Heck, she might even feel him hiccup. I tell ya,” Benny said, sounding out of breath, “I never knew I could be so excited about such a thing. Feels like Christmas.”

  “Right about here should do it,” Trent said as he shifted into place. They lowered the sofa and, without another word, took a seat on either end and sighed. He turned to his friend, considering what he shared. “Sounds great,” he said. “About the baby, I mean. When do you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  Benny’s smile took up his whole face. “Next appointment they’re going to do an ultrasound. We should be able to tell by then.”

  “Any preference?”

  “Nope.” He said it with surprising certainty.

  Trent gave him a look. “Really? You won’t be the slightest bit relieved if it’s a boy and not a girl?”

  Benny shook his head. “Not the slightest. I can coach girls’ softball as easily as boys’ baseball. I just want that little person to be born healthy.”

  Trent got sucked into the moment—the love he sensed in the man’s words. “You’re going to make a great father.”

  “I sure hope so,” Benny said, “cuz that kid’s going to be my life. Along with Darcy, that is.”

  Trent nodded, glad his friend had such a beautiful growing family. “Let’s just hope the kid gets Darcy’s looks, not yours,” he razzed.

  “You ain’t kidding,” Ben agreed with a laugh.

  The two stood up from the couch. “Well,” Trent said, slapping him on the back, “you’re a lucky man, Ben, I’ll tell you that.” Envy rolled through him like a stone. How would it feel to have that weight lifted? To believe that you deserved to have that kind of happiness?

  Sure, Trent guessed he could marry and have kids easily enough, but as a counselor once said, clenched hands don’t receive a whole lot. If Trent was still fisting his guilt like a life source, he couldn’t hold on to anything else.

  He shook his head. While he understood the wisdom in the councilor’s words—the man was right, after all—Trent just didn’t know how to free up those hands. Moving away was easier than accepting love he didn’t feel worthy of.

  “Hey,” Benny said as they headed back through the sliding door. “Judy said you did a real good job at that driver’s course the other night. Said you had her in tears and everything.”

  Fear rushed in like a microburst in his chest. Speaking at those courses had been a buoy for Trent. It rescued him from the depths of depression and gave him a safe place to share his story and help others at the same time. Safe—because he usually didn’t know those who attended. “I didn’t see Judy there,” he said.

  “She has a teenage girl who’s fixing to get her driver�
��s license, so …” Benny died off there. It seemed like an invitation of sorts, like he was giving Trent a chance to talk about what he shared during the course. It was an invite he’d have to decline. Trent would rather pack up and move out of town than confide in the people he was getting close to. He just hoped Judy could keep the details to herself; it simply wasn’t her story to tell.

  The dilemma was discouraging, to say the least. Here he was, about to take Jessie Phillips on their second date—third if he counted bringing her out to see the house. But if he hadn’t learned how to forgive himself after all this time, what made him think he’d be able to do it now that he had a woman in his life?

  Though Trent didn’t have an answer to that question, one thing was sure: if he stood a chance at the kind of life Ben had ahead of him, he needed to figure it out.

  Chapter 17

  It had been a long time since Jessie had taken in the wonders of the great outdoors. She believed that spending time out on the veranda was close to the same, but she was wrong. Here, alongside a body of water, sounds of insects and frogs busy at work, she felt part of the action. The moment was all the better with the company she was keeping.

  “You did say there were actual fish in this pond, didn’t you?” she asked Trent in a whisper.

  He chuckled under his breath, deep and husky. “You don’t have to whisper, you know? Sound doesn’t travel too well from air to water.”

  “Good to know.” She nodded, her gaze moving from his boots to hers and then back to this pond, where they’d come on their first date. The place they’d shared their first kiss. Jessie wore her blue-stitched cowgirl boots with the rider’s heel. Trent’s pair looked like they were designed for hiking. They sat in side-by-side folding chairs on a dock built far out over the water. Already, Jessie felt herself wanting to be closer to him. After all, she’d been waiting all week for this. “Are you feeling anything yet?”

  Trent tilted his head, his blue eyes alive with mischief. “Feeling what, exactly?”