The Lawman of Silver Creek

by Lori Connelly

  Her foot beat against the worn floorboards. She fiddled with the silverware, tapping her spoon as the waitress, Ginny, set bone white china bowls down on the table. A sigh of pure pleasure drew Claire’s attention to Evie and she smiled. Her friend looked as if she’d seen heaven instead of the Friday special of steaming, thick potato soup.

  “Anything else?” Ginny placed a small basket of buttermilk biscuits between them.

  The bell sounded again. With her friend pleasantly distracted, Claire turned to watch the door open. Her heart sped. The lean man in dusty denims and thin cotton shirt she’d waited for stepped in. His well-worn black cowboy hat covered his hair and shadowed his face as usual but she knew well what lay beneath.

  “Claire would you-”

  “No, thank you, we’re fine.” She broke in, flashing a dismissive smile at the waitress.

  The cowboys seated near the kitchen called out for more coffee and Ginny walked away.

  “Claire.”

  “What?”

  Her gaze slipped away, following Matt as he swept off his hat. He walked by a few tables over, greeting people with a smile or nod. With their table in the direct path from the door to the counter where she knew he’d order his lunch, he had to see them, yet he didn’t come near. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

  “Claire,” Evie tried again, her exasperation clear. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Send Ginny on her way.” Fingers snapped in front of her face. “She forgot my glass of milk.”

  “Uh … ” Distracted, Claire didn’t finish an answer. Her gaze remained on Matt who had paused at a table crowded with a large family. A girl held up a limp, mangled wild iris. His smile, tender and charming as he admired the child’s offering, birthed an ache within her.

  Her mouth curved a touch, a hint of a smile. Pride infused Claire as person after person greeted Matt with warmth. Well-liked, respected and handsome on a scale that had made her the envy of every woman in Silver Creek County, her sheriff was a fine man.

  A pretty, young woman with generous curves, long blonde hair and a wide smile grabbed Matt unexpectedly. Irritation filled her as Ellie Patton clung to his arm, stopping him at her side. Claire glared at the pair through narrowed eyes.

  “Jealous?”

  “I’d like to toss the ninny in the nearest horse trough.”

  “Matt doesn’t care about her.”

  “Of course not, I know that,” she asserted but uncertainty, unwelcome and unfamiliar, shaded her tone.

  “Hey.” Evie touched her arm. “Ellie flirts with all the men.”

  “I know.”

  “Even ones older than her father.”

  “I know.”

  “So don’t let her get to you.”

  Claire ground her teeth and plastered a pleasant expression on her face. “I’m not.”

  Matt looked over and caught her staring at him. Her heart pounded. His gaze swept over her. Her nerves tingled, warming her skin. A longing, marrow deep filled her. She forgot everything else; her friend, where they were, what was wrong between them, her plan. For that moment, he was her whole world. Then Matt turned away, broke the connection.

  “Please excuse me.” Claire knew what she wanted. A slow grin spread across her face. Now she intended to have him. “I need to speak to the sheriff.”

  As the waitress passed by, Claire stood and followed behind her. Confident and casual, she approached her target. Matt leaned against the counter, his back to her. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, muss his hair.

  Exerting control, Claire kept her hands to herself as she moved around Matt to get near Ginny. Although she had plenty of space to maneuver in, her hip brushed him. His sharp intake of breath was music to her ears.

  “Claire-”

  “Oh my goodness did I bump you?” Her eyes wide, she attempted innocence.

  Gaze narrowed, he answered with noticeable reserve. “You did.”

  Claire reached out, put a hand on his forearm and let the heat of their contact burn for a moment. His eyes became dark slits. Slowly, she drew back, her hand falling to her side.

  “Sorry Sheriff.” Her tone was polite and proper as she turned to face Ginny. “Could I get a glass of milk for Evie?”

  “Oh goodness, I forgot it?” With a shake of her head, the waitress walked away with a promise to be right back.

  A side-glance almost made her smile. Matt was starring at her, his expression intense. Satisfaction warmed her. She had his attention. Claire allowed silence to rule the air between them, making him speak first.

  “Here with Evie?”

  “Almost every Friday. She’s obsessed with Judith’s potato soup. We don’t have to order, Ginny just brings it out now.”

  A fleeting smile graced Matt’s face. “Ben told me.”

  “Would you like to join us?”

  “No, thank you, I’m taking my food back to the jail.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “No.”

  Her lips twitched but she suppressed a smile. “You’ve been eating lunch here since … ” We broke up.

  One eyebrow arched. “Spying on me?”

  “Yes, as often as possible. Is that an offense?” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Should you arrest me?”

  “Claire.”

  “Yes?” She fluttered her eyelashes.

  He sighed. “What are you up to?”

  “Just talking.” She inched closer. “How’s your family?”

  “Fine.”

  “Your parents still off visiting?”

  Matt nodded.

  “Then you’re still watching their place, all alone?”

  “Yes.” His tone held a note of caution.

  “That’s good.” Ginny returned, handed her a glass. Claire thanked the waitress turned in the direction of her table. “Are you sure you don’t you want to come over and visit with Evie?”

  “Just tell her I said hi.”

  “I will.” Then she walked away, her hand swinging out ever so slightly as she passed him, grazing his firm butt.

  He spun to face her, his voice low and fierce. “Claire.”

  “Matt.” She paused, turning back to him. His expression sobered as he held her gaze for some seconds. She tilted her head to one side. “Something bothering you?”

  A muscle worked over his jaw. “No.”

  Matt turned his back to her once more. A satisfied smile graced her lips as she returned to the table. Claire handed the milk to her friend and sat down. In the short time she’d been gone, the other woman had devoured half of her meal. She shook her head in wonder at how much Evie’s appetite had increased.

  “It looked like you disturbed Matt.” Her friend broke off a good-sized biscuit chunk and dunked it into her soup.

  Her smile broadened. “I hope so.”

  “Is that part of your plan?”

  “Would I do that?” Evie snorted when she tried to look innocent. Claire chuckled. “Actually, I’m making it up as I go along but, oh my.” She stood up. “I somehow forgot butter.”

  “Indeed.” Her tone dry, Evie gave her a steady look.

  With a flashed grin, she again left her friend. This time when Claire approached Matt, he stood alone. Ginny was waiting on other customers. She walked up right beside him then scooted closer until their sides touched.

  “More milk?” He moved sideways, just out of reach.

  “No, silly me, I forgot to ask for butter.”

  “I’m surprised Ginny didn’t-”

  “She probably asked, but I was distracted when you walked in and told her we didn’t need anything else.”

  His mouth gaped open at her directness.

  “Is something the matter?” She moved closer.

  He slammed his mouth shut, and then once again put space between them. “No.”

  “Then why are you moving away from me?” Claire followed.

  “I’m not,” he claimed and held his ground. His exp
ression dared her to call him a liar.

  In an effort to keep him off balance, Claire took another tack. “Oh dear, it’s me isn’t it?” She affected concern, one hand pressed to her chest. “The sun was fierce when I walked toward Evie’s place.” She leaned even closer so that her chest rested against his arm and whispered. “Do I smell?”

  Chapter Four

  Sweet heaven. Matt breathed in her scent. Lavender and sunshine. Claire smelled like a mountain meadow on a spring day. Fresh and inviting.

  “You’re fine.”

  “You sure?”

  Her breath feathered his skin. Desire slammed into him. All coherent thoughts fled. His hand crushed his hat, as he tramped down the powerful surge of need.

  Lips tight, he said again, “You’re fine.”

  They had to talk, but couldn’t here. Confused, frustrated, irritated, and intrigued at once, overwhelming emotions knotted in his gut. The temptation to pick her up and carry her off was hard to resist. The sound of footsteps approaching announced the waitress’ return. He seized the opportunity.

  “I need to go. Would you send someone over with my lunch?”

  “You sure? It won’t take more than a few more minutes.”

  Claire rubbed her thigh against his. Minx. Matt shook his head. He had to leave before he did something stupid. Quickly, he slapped coins on the counter and stepped back.

  “Sorry, can’t.” He crammed on his hat, brushing the front with his fingers. “Ladies.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Matt stopped, pinning Claire with his gaze. It was a casual remark on the surface. In a community of a few hundred people, of course they’d meet again. However, a hint of promise shaded those common words and gave him pause.

  A range of possibilities flashed through his mind. She smiled, sweetly, the picture of innocence, and winked. His gut tightened. A wicked gleam shone in her eyes. She was up to something again, without a doubt.

  Before Claire succeeded in disturbing him any further, Matt walked away. Long strides quickly carried him across the room and through the doorway while he ignored her voice chasing after him. He couldn’t think clearly now.

  Matt left the restaurant, stomping down the plank sidewalk muttering, and shaking his head. He edged around three women standing in front of the store. Their tones were hushed, his step quick, but the sheriff still caught the sound of a certain name. He slowed, glancing back at them. Bright pink stained the cheeks of Mercy Ellis, the youngest of the group.

  Great, the rumors are spreading.

  His mouth flattened with displeasure, he continued on his way. Matt noticed a familiar horse in the small corral near the stable and picked up his pace. Once he reached the barnlike building, the sheriff went in, searching for his friend. He found Ben around back, leaning against his buggy, eating a sandwich.

  “Waiting for Evie?”

  Benjamin Rolfe nodded, “She’s having her soup with Claire.”

  “I saw them. I don’t think you’ll have to wait long. Evie seemed almost finished when I left.”

  “She devours the stuff.” His friend’s tone was lovingly indulgent. “Says nobody else makes it just right.”

  “She looks good.”

  “Doc checked her out a few days ago, said she’s fine.”

  Matt heard the note of worry in his voice but knowing only the arrival of a healthy, living baby would dispel it, he kept his response short. “Good.”

  “How was seeing Claire?”

  “She’s flirting with me.”

  “She wants you back.”

  “I thought that yesterday.” Matt took a couple of steps to his right. “She showed up at my parent’s place and we spent some time together.” He paced back to in front of Ben. “Then she took off like a startled doe.”

  “Claire?”

  “I know, not her usual style.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ben cuffed him on the shoulder, a silent offer of male comfort. “Something else on your mind?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because it’s written on your face.”

  A rugged man stepped out of the shadowed interior of the stable to join them. With unbound shoulder length hair, a dark beard, a long jagged scar cutting his eyebrow then curving around his left eye extending partway down his cheek and in dirty rumpled clothing from several days out on the range, Nathaniel Rolfe looked the part of a drifter. Matt clasped his hand, proud to call the man his friend.

  “What is? The fact that Claire is driving me crazy?”

  “My little cousin always has.” Nate turned, sharing an amused look with his cousin, Ben.

  Although the men had only known each other for a couple of months, they had grown close. They all had. Nate and Ben were like the brothers to him.

  “She hates being called little.”

  Nate’s lips twitched. “I know.”

  “But she’s not all that’s troubling you.”

  His friend was too perceptive by half. “The rumors are spreading.”

  “About who?” Ben interjected.

  “Both of you but in Nate’s case it’s not worrisome.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Women thinking you’re some tragic figure that needs love won’t lead to a lynch mob.”

  Ben’s expression turned grave, “Is it that bad?”

  “Not yet, but the longer the rustling goes unsolved, the more people will be looking for someone to blame.”

  “And who better than me?” Although his tone was even, a flash of dark emotion shone in Ben’s eyes.

  “I know you’re innocent.”

  “Of this.”

  Matt put one hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t beat a dead horse. Leave your past where it belongs.”

  “I’m trying but it seems some people don’t agree with you.”

  “Fir Mountain isn’t Cedar Ridge. People here are giving you a chance and some even call you a friend.”

  “If that’s true, then why are you worried about gossip?”

  “Because good people do stupid things when they get all riled up. You should know that.”

  The two men stared at each other a moment then Ben gave a slight nod, his stance relaxing. “Someone is going to a lot of trouble trying to ensure I’m blamed for the rustling.”

  “Yes they are.” Matt’s voice was hard, determined. “And that’s what leads me to believe, when I find out who started them, I’ll be looking at a rustler.”

  The men speculated for a while longer but the conversation yielded no answers. Restless, frustrated and knowing he was poor company, the sheriff excused himself and continued on his way to his office. Once there force of habit had him pause long enough to remove the ‘out for lunch’ sign he’d hung, before he jerked open the jailhouse door. Each step inside echoed, a hollow, lonely sound in the empty building.

  Sean, his deputy, had gone home for lunch, eager to see his bride. Their lone prisoner had left in the company of his daughter hours ago. The old man had been drowning his sorrows with booze and provoking fights ever since he’d lost his wife last winter. Matt jammed his hat on a peg on the wall. Numbing grief caused by a woman held great appeal to him right now.

  His hat rocked and then fell to the floor. With a curse, the sheriff picked it up and hung it again with only slightly more care. He crossed to his desk, opened the bottom left drawer and pulled out a bottle and a shot glass. Cheap whiskey soon burned down his throat.

  Still on duty, Matt refused to indulge more and tossed the supplies back. He shoved the drawer shut, yanked out the chair and sat. His fingers strummed the desktop. He stared out the window. His gaze moved, restless, over the full length of Main Street then down to the papers scattered on his desk.

  Sean’s report on the Double J’s missing cattle rested on top. Matt stared at the words, reading it over twice but couldn’t retain a single detail. Images of a certain brown haired female kept popping into
his mind destroying his concentration. In the end, he gathered all the papers into a loose pile then pushed them off to one side.

  Matt leaned back, put his feet up his desk and crossed them at the ankles. Muffled sounds of traffic drifted through thick brick walls. He looked back out the window as a buggy occupied by Ben and his wife, Evie, drove by.

  The sour taste of envy coursed through him. The couple had been married for years and yet their joy was still tangible. Matt grimaced and averted his gaze. The same used to be true of him and Claire.

  Her daring, ready wit and delicate beauty enticed him even as a boy. Whenever she was near, he struggled with the need to move closer, a hummingbird to honeysuckle. Her appeal was so strong it had felt near irresistible.

  Misguided attempts to protect the little girl she’d been then had earned him indignation rather than gratitude. Eyes closed, Matt tilted his head back, remembering. It’d taken him more than one taste of her quicksilver temper to understand how much she prized her independence. Once he respected that, they forged a friendship that grew into a romance he thought would never end.

  She wasn’t in the buggy.

  His eyes popped open. Matt turned and looked out of the window. She wasn’t on the street. He started to swing his feet down then stopped. Boots hit the oak desk hard. His gaze moved the ceiling. Claire wouldn’t welcome him checking up on her now any more than she had before.

  Everything changed after he’d rescued her from Nash. For a few days, Claire seemed to understand that he needed her to stay safe. It didn’t last. Impatient with his hovering, her temper simmered hotly. His sigh filled the room. He had kept thinking that with time she’d see reason. But Matt couldn’t have been more wrong.

  As strong willed and stubborn as ever, Claire wouldn’t listen. Pointed exchanges evolved into bitter arguments. He wanted her to make changes, to not go to places alone and stop writing about anything dangerous. She flatly refused to consider his concerns. Days flew by with them fighting. Their wedding day neared, with the tension between them almost a solid presence.