Saving the Sheriff

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Saving the Sheriff Page 21

by Kadie Scott


  Maddie would come out the loser.

  He didn’t want to add to her troubles. As much as he wanted to help her, going to the motel wouldn’t have been wise. Trey shook his head. Spending time with Maddie Brooks would just be dang foolish. He’d have to nip this problem in the bud, before anything dared to blossom.

  Tonight, he’d lay things out straight with Maddie.

  But in truth, he’d be more comfortable wrestling half a dozen big, hungry grizzly bears.

  *

  Maddie was finally going to see the inside of Trey’s house at 2 Hope. She stepped through tall column pillars into a dwelling, beaten down from time and perhaps a bit of neglect.

  Yet, undisguised warmth seemed to invite her in. Her heart squeezed tight as she stood in the entry, gazing at a massive stone fireplace, complete with a heavy beamed mantel and a wide accommodating hearth. The only thing missing from this picture was the moose head above the fireplace. Instinct told her Trey wouldn’t approve or indulge in the hunting of innocent animals, thank goodness.

  A slightly worn, completely comfortable-looking leather sofa graced the wall facing the fireplace, and antique pieces from days gone by surrounded the room. Maddie couldn’t help feel like an invader, intruding on Trey’s privacy, the total masculine feel of the room alluding to Trey’s lone-wolf demeanor. A woman had no place here. There were no lace curtains or hand-sewn pillows, nothing feminine at all, yet the house had a welcoming, solid, lived-in feel. A house made for a man.

  Maddie was certain Trey didn’t want her living here.

  But she had no other option. She had responsibilities, clients who depended on her to keep their animals healthy. There was no one else in Hope Wells to look after the animals of the twenty-odd ranches in the county. And just the other day, she’d had to neuter Randolph Curry’s rambunctious Irish setter, before the neighbors shot the dang dog for lewd acts of conduct on the main streets in town. Then there was young Bessie Mallery’s cat Lucky, who’d surprised everyone with a litter of seven. Maddie had had to untangle that feline’s umbilical cord before it strangled three of the kittens. Fortunately Lucky’s name had held true, and she hadn’t lost any of her offspring, much to everyone’s relief.

  With a nod, Maddie concluded if she were to keep her practice going, she would have to accept Trey’s hospitality. But she’d made a solemn vow to stick to her business and stay out of his way, until the time came when she could rebuild her own office in town.

  “All set,” Trey said, coming to stand before her. “I put everything inside your room. Down the hall, third door on the left.”

  “Thank you,” Maddie offered. When she’d pulled up just minutes ago with her oddball assortment of clothes, medical books, some veterinary equipment—the smaller tools of her trade she’d been able to salvage—Trey had been waiting on his front porch. He wouldn’t allow her to lift a thing from the bed of her truck. He’d just reached in and grabbed everything, loading up his arms and telling her to make herself comfortable inside the house. “The house is nice, looks like it’s been lived in some. I’ll bet there’s a batch of stories hidden in these old walls.”

  Maddie bit her lip and glanced away. She’d never been one to babble, but then she’d never felt this darn awkward before.

  Trey grinned. “This house goes way back. It was one of the first ones built in Hope Wells back in the day when there was free range. I know a few stories, but they aren’t fit for telling in polite company.”

  Maddie sighed, wondering what wonderfully sinful things had happened at 2 Hope years ago. “I’d love to hear them sometime.”

  Trey looked her over, and began shaking his head. With a dubious expression plastered on his face, he flat out refused. “No way, Maddie. You don’t want to hear any of those stories.”

  Maddie fumed silently. She’d never shed her wholesome, good-girl image. The one time she’d tried transforming into a sexy siren, she’d failed miserably. Trey hadn’t paid her any notice at all. She was over it, and him, but she wished that he would treat her the way he treated other women. She wasn’t a child who needed protecting from vile stories. She wasn’t a frail dove that needed rescuing. She was a strong woman who knew when to give up on a hopeless cause. Maddie had given up on Trey Walker.

  “I think I’ll put my things away now. Thanks, again.” She moved past him, heading down the hallway.

  “Dinner’s at eight.”

  She swirled around. “Oh, I don’t expect you to feed me.”

  “You have to eat.”

  “I . . . I guess I didn’t think—”

  “Kit and the guys are off tonight, so you’re stuck with my cooking. With any luck, I’ll manage not to poison the both of us.”

  An encouraging thought. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Stew?”

  “I’ll help and don’t even dream of refusing the offer. It’s the least I can do. After all, you’re putting me up and allowing me to keep my practice running on your property. I certainly don’t expect to be waited on. I want to pull my weight around here. Besides, I don’t have a kitchen anymore, and I sort of miss cooking.”

  Hands on hips, Trey stared at her. “Are you through?”

  Maddie’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Meet me in the kitchen in an hour.”

  She gulped then nodded. She couldn’t tell if Trey was amused or annoyed at her little outburst. She had to remind herself that he was a man who wasn’t accustomed to having a woman around, and he was probably already sorry he’d agreed to their deal.

  *

  “This is hardly poison, Trey.”

  Trey riveted his eyes on Maddie polishing off her second bowl of son-of-a-gun stew. “And I never figured you for a liar.”

  He arched a brow. “Liar?”

  “You can cook. I mean really cook. You had the meat marinating in this yummy sauce and then you did this amazing thing with the spices. I’ve never had better stew.”

  “You helped,” Trey said, standing to take his plate to the sink.

  Maddie immediately rose and gently grabbed the plate from his hand. “All I did was cut up potatoes and carrots. Essentially, you made the meal, so I’m going to do all of the cleanup. It’s the least—”

  “I know, it’s the least you can do.”

  “Yes, so please sit down, and I’ll pour your coffee. It’ll take me only a minute to have this kitchen back in order.”

  Maddie brought him a mug of steaming hot coffee—cream, no sugar, just the way he liked it. Trey decided to sit, rather than argue. He sipped from his coffee and watched her bustle about his kitchen. Wasn’t too often a woman graced his kitchen. In fact, the last time he could recall was when his father had married wife number four, and they’d held the wedding here at the ranch. Then, there’d been a wagonload of women in the kitchen, caterers and servers alike, cooking up the wedding feast.

  The marriage had lasted all of ten months. Hell, Trey couldn’t even remember the gal’s name exactly. Elisa, Elena, something with an E.

  “How’s the coffee?” Maddie asked as she bent down to load the dishwasher.

  Trey’s gaze fastened on the derriere pointing in his direction. He couldn’t quite help watching the wiggle as she shifted to make room for more plates. He had a tantalizing view of her backside, and petite as Maddie was, everything she had was perfectly proportioned. Her tank top pulled up as she bent and a slice of skin appeared in the gap at the small of her back. The combination of her wiggling behind and that particular delicate area, newly exposed, caused Trey a moment of grief and that grief was growing harder by the second.

  “Coffee’s fine,” he managed.

  She closed the dishwasher door and lifted up. Thank you. Trey gulped down the rest of his coffee, landing his mug down on the table with a thud.

  Maddie appeared before him with the coffeepot in hand. “Another cup?”

  Before he could answer, she leaned over to begin pouring. That damn silver horse she wore around her neck ca
ught his eye as it swung out. He followed the glint until the charm settled right smack in the deep hollow between her breasts.

  His grief intensified.

  He wasn’t used to having a pretty woman around, helping with the meals, serving him in his kitchen as though she really belonged here. This cozy domestic scene would give him hives if he wasn’t careful. And the last thing he needed was to walk around stiff between the legs all day.

  He reached out and took hold of Maddie’s wrist. “Sit down, Maddie. We need to talk.”

  Maddie’s eyes grew wide, probably from the sharpness of his tone. She sat in a chair across from him and suddenly Trey felt older than his thirty-one years. He opened his mouth to begin, but a commotion coming from the corral had him clamping his mouth down. He listened as his stallion whinnied and snorted, kicking up a fuss. Trey bounded up from his seat.

  “Storm’s fixing to have a tirade. I’d better go check on him.”

  Trey headed to the corral quickly, knowing what damage his feisty stallion could do. He reached the fence just as Storm lifted his front legs up in a flurry, snorting loudly, disturbing the quiet of the night.

  “Hey, boy. Simmer down,” he cooed, trying to soothe the stallion’s ire.

  Storm took note of him, pranced around the perimeter of the corral then stomped, sifting dirt with his front hooves, communicating to Trey the only way he knew how. “I know how you feel, boy. But I can’t let you out. Not with the way you’re all tangled up inside.”

  Trey whistled softly, an old cowboy tune he’d learned as a child, the melody something Storm recognized. The horse snorted again and pranced against the wind, his ink-black mane catching the moonlight.

  He was a thing of beauty, Storm. His restless nature proved him wild at heart, an animal that didn’t hold much trust. Trey understood that horse better than he did most people.

  “He’s a free spirit.” The gentle voice came from behind.

  Trey turned, noting Maddie standing in the shadows. She stepped closer, carefully, with one eye on Storm. Trey trusted her not to spook the horse. Leaning against the fence, he rested his arms on the top rail. “We understand each other.”

  Maddie smiled. “I guess I know what you mean.”

  Trey nodded. “I guess you do.”

  Storm had pretty much settled down, his tirade all but over. He pranced a bit more, showing off his beautiful grace and agility probably for Maddie’s sake. He didn’t blame the horse for trying to impress the lady.

  “Do you ride him?” Maddie ventured closer, taking up space next to him by the fence.

  Trey chuckled. “He doesn’t care much for riders.”

  “Have you had him long?”

  “Less than a month. I went to a cattle auction, took one look at the stallion and that was that. I had to have him. His previous owner said he’ll never be all yours. It was what I liked best about him.”

  What he didn’t add was Storm’s owner had practically given the horse to Trey, having had his fill of the wild, unruly stallion.

  Maddie smiled then called softly to the horse. “Hey, Storm. Here, boy.”

  She put out her hand, reaching beyond the fence.

  Much to Trey’s amazement, Storm wandered over, coming to stand before her. “Careful, he doesn’t know you.”

  Maddie placed her boots on the lower rung of the fence rail and lifted up, coming eye to eye with the stallion. She reached out gingerly, smart enough not to touch the feisty animal, and the horse snorted, as if taking in her scent, each one completely aware of the other. “There, boy. You just need some attention, don’t you? All alone out here in this corral.”

  Maddie’s voice, her calm demeanor, her confidence with the now sedate animal, impressed the hell out of Trey. He’d seen her work with animals before and it never ceased to amaze him. She had special qualities.

  Trey swallowed hard, watching her speak softly, her delicate hands reaching out in a nonthreatening way, until Storm allowed her a touch. She slid her hands slowly, carefully, without hesitation over Storm’s mane. The stallion snorted, stomped, but didn’t back off. He allowed her a brief stroke, one time, before racing off.

  Maddie smiled warmly, her heart-shaped mouth turning up with genuine affection. “He knows me now. I think I’ve made a new friend.”

  Trey’s groin tightened. His mouth went bone-dry. Maddie cuddling with his wild stallion was a sight to behold. The last thing he wanted was to have lusty thoughts about Maddie Brooks. She had a gentle nature, one he couldn’t destroy. “About that talk . . . .”

  Maddie’s smile evaporated as she glanced one last time at Storm. She jumped down from the fence, but the heel of her boot caught on the fence rung just as a gust of wind blew by and she lost her balance. Trey caught her just before she tumbled, his hand brushing the swell of her breast. He wrapped her tight against him, relishing her small, delicate body against his big frame. “Whoa. The wind nearly blew you over. You okay?”

  Trey forced himself to release her and step back. She stared up at him, her eyes gleaming, her face lifting up to his and that perfect mouth trembling slightly. “I’m . . . okay. You wanted to have a talk?”

  Yeah, he needed to talk to her. He needed to lay things on the line, leaving no room for doubt that this was strictly a business arrangement. He needed to protect her from the Walker Curse. In the long run, she’d be better off. And so would he. Maddie wasn’t a woman to fool with. But the words that had played out in his mind a dozen times wouldn’t come. They stuck in his throat like a mouthful of dry cotton. He opened his mouth then clamped down.

  His fingers still tingled from where he’d touched the soft small slope of her breasts and his body shook with powerful need. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from that lovely, upturned face. He simply stared, swallowing hard, a colossal debate warring in his head. He didn’t get it—this unwelcome need he had for her. Maddie in the moonlight was a beautiful thing, but it was something else, something more powerful that drew him to her. He wanted to hold her again. To feel her softness crushed against him. The need inside him was great and all of his hard won mental rules slipped away instantly.

  Maddie Brooks was the last woman on Earth he should touch.

  But he wanted her. Just once.

  He leaned in, bending to cup the back of her head with his hand. Her silky hair fell against his palm as he gently tilted her up, toward him.

  “Trey, what are you doing?” she asked, her voice a breathless whisper against his lips.

  “Being a damn fool.”

  Then he brushed his mouth over hers.

  Find out what happens next in Taming the Texas Cowboy…

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  About the Author

  Award-winning contemporary romance author, Kadie Scott, grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

  No matter the genre, she loves to write witty, feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). She currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero, her husband, and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

  Kadie also writes award-winning paranormal romance under the name Abigail Owen.

  For the latest news and exclusive excerpts, subscribe to Kadie’s monthly newsletter: http://eepurl.com/czjrKn.

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