She's The Sheriff (Superromance Series No 787)

by Duquette, Anne Marie

  “Let me tell you something, Ray. Virgil went into that fire after you like you were family.”

  “He came after me as a fellow lawman.”

  “No. He came after you like a man who cares about a woman.” Suddenly their roles were reversed again. Caro was the strong one, Desiree confused and lost

  “When Virgil heard from the office, he didn’t wait to get dressed. He didn’t drive in with Morgan and Wyatt. He jumped onto a horse with no saddle and rode hell-for-leather.”

  “No saddle?” Desiree blinked her surprise.

  “No saddle. No socks. No shirt. He wore a pair of jeans with his loafers and rode bareback to get to you. He burned his bare feet carrying you out of that parking lot He told Lozen to hold on to him, because there was only time to carry one of you out, and he chose you.”

  “But...she could walk. I couldn’t. That’s...that’s logical,” Desiree stammered.

  “Lozen was in shock. She couldn’t have found her way out alone. He guided her out, but carried you. Then he sat and held you until the ambulance arrived. He wouldn’t even put you down on the ground, Ray. He held you tight against his chest, the way Wyatt holds me. The look on his face was there for all the world to see. I know. I saw it.”

  “But...Caro, he didn’t tell me any of that. He just told me he lost his loafers.”

  “He lost them when they stuck to the asphalt! Of course he wouldn’t tell you! He’s not one to bare his soul to the world.”

  She’s right He wouldn’t even talk about it in my room. And he was looking at me so strangely....

  “Ray, you count with that man. You count a lot.”

  “I do?” The words caused a strange thrill inside, one she didn’t push away. “But that can’t be! He’s challenged every single thing I’ve done.”

  “That’s right, and you’ve stood up to him every single time. The man ran barefoot through hot coals for you-literally! Don’t you see?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Lord, do I have to spell it out? I think he’s fallen in love with you.”

  Desiree felt her pounding head spin even more. “I... are you sure? It wouldn’t be right, us working—living—together.” Though I’ve thought about it. “I haven’t encouraged him.”

  “I didn’t say you had. But you need to know how he thinks of you. And, Ray—a Bodine man is a good man to have at your side, professionally ... and personally.”

  “Caro, this isn’t the movies. No two people fall in love at exactly the same time. And I’m not really looking for a husband or kids.” She ran her hand through her burned hair and snagged her fingers on a scorched spot. “I’m not much of a homebody.”

  “I didn’t say you were. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need a partner. You’re trying to keep Tombstone safe, aren’t you? That means you need whatever help he can give you. I don’t want to ever see you like you were last night. Burned, bleeding, motionless. I thought you were...” Caro’s voice caught. She couldn’t say the word.

  Dead.

  “Is that why you lost the baby?” Desiree asked, suddenly horrified. “Because you saw me and thought I was dead?”

  “No. No!” Caro insisted. “I would have lost it no matter what. I firmly believe that. So do Wyatt and the doctor, so don’t you dare feel guilty. No one blames you. I blame this lousy body of mine—bad parts and bad luck. It just wasn’t meant to be.” Caro reached for Ray’s hands and held them tight. “But maybe, maybe, you and Virgil are.”

  “I don’t know, Caro. Ever since Linda, my life’s been so confusing. I’m just trying to keep my head above water.”

  “I understand So does Virgil, because he’s doing the same. Let him help you. Let him keep you safe. Do the same for him. Don’t ignore his expertise. Respect his feelings. Be careful, Ray. Keep him careful. That’s all I ask.”

  The women were quiet until Caro pushed the call button on the side of her bed.

  “Hey, what’d you do that for?” Desiree asked.

  “So a nurse can come and help you back to bed.”

  “Squealer. Just like when we were kids.” With her one good arm, Desiree smoothed her sister’s hair, fluffed her pillow, straightened her covers. “I’m sorry about your baby, Caro.”

  “I know.”

  They hugged each other a final time. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll let that counselor drop by,” Desiree suggested. “Better yet, let me call that female minister you like so much. She’s not a stranger, and she’ll just let you talk. No scribbling in your chart, either.”

  “Now who’s the bossy sister?”

  “Caro, do it so I don’t worry,” Desiree said. “Better yet, do it for Wyatt. Poor guy, half his family is among the walking wounded. It would be a weight off his mind if you asked to see the reverend. Maybe even arranged a prayer service for the baby. We’d all attend.”

  “Damn pushy lawyer,” Caro grumbled. “Oh, all right. I’ll have Wyatt call the church for me.”

  The two sisters shared a comforting moment that only sisters who had grown up loving each other could share. The nurse entered then, frowning immediately at Desiree’s presence.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Caro and Desiree smiled at each other like guilty schoolchildren.

  “I’ll go get a wheelchair—and don’t you move,” the nurse ordered.

  “I won’t,” Desiree replied. At least, not until I get out of this hospital. And then I’ll find out who’s disrupting the lives of the people I love.

  “Ray? You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “For a minute there, I thought I saw...”

  Desiree forced her expression into one of pleasant compliance. “What?”

  “Don’t give me your whats. I’ve seen that look of yours since you were in diapers. It means trouble. Stay out of trouble, Ray—I mean it. Don’t do anything stupid or dangerous because of me and the baby.”

  “I said I’d be careful, and I will. I promise. See you later, Caro.”

  The nurse brought in a wheelchair, effectively ending the conversation. Desiree sat down compliantly, tired, but with new feelings, new thoughts to sort out.

  “And thanks.”

  THE SISTERS WERE discharged the following afternoon. Virgil and Wyatt showed up to take them home. The four of them walked outside to the ranch vehicle parked beneath an overcast sky:

  “Maybe we can swing by the office on the way home?” Desiree suggested. She was feeling almost back to normal now, dressed in the clean jeans and western shirt Jasentha had packed for her. But her suggestion was met with glares from the two men and scolding from Caro.

  “Ray, your arm’s in a sling, you have stitches in your head, and you just got out of the hospital! I’m sure Virgil can fill you in on the latest without a trip to the office.”

  “Caro needs to get home and put her feet up,” Wyatt said. “Virgil should, too.”

  Desiree felt her chest tighten at the thought of Virgil’s blistered feet. “You’re right, of course. Caro, you go on. I’ll be home a bit later.”

  “But...”

  Desiree tossed her bag, with her prescription inside, into the vehicle. “The office is only a short way down the street. I’ll walk and come home a little later.”

  “The hell you will!” Virgil protested.

  “Ray, get back here!” Caro ordered.

  “I have a job to do. I swore to protect this town, and protect it I will.”

  Desiree waved to them and started off. Tombstone proper was four streets long and seven streets wide, and there was nothing wrong with her feet. Thanks to a full day and a half in the hospital, her headache was pretty much gone except for the stitches under what was left of her bangs. Her shoulder was stiff and sore, but functional when not in the sling. It wasn’t her gun arm, anyway.

  “Wyatt, do something!” she heard Caro say.

  “She’s a Hartlan, all right. You and I are going home, Caro. Come on, Virgil.”

  “I’m going after
her. Send one of the hands to pick us up later, okay?”

  “You’re as stubborn as she is,” Wyatt drawled.

  Desiree didn’t hear the rest. I have work to do.

  Surprisingly enough, Virgil came after her quickly, despite his feet.

  “You should be home,” he told her.

  “So should you. Since you’re not—”

  “Since we’re not...”

  “Since we’re not, fill me in, please. And, Virgil, skip the lectures, okay?” Desiree begged. “Caro’s was bad enough. I swear, when she’s ninety and I’m in my eighties, I’ll still be the little sister.”

  She waited for an answer but received none. “So,” she said awkwardly, “did you find Jondell?”

  “We did. Morgan and I took a ride to the campground after we got back from the hospital. He’d shown up at his tent by then. He refused to talk to either of us, so we brought him down to the jail and booked him for impeding an investigation. He’s still in jail—cooling his heels.”

  Desiree’s glance dropped to his black uniform boots. Virgil’s feet weren’t exactly up to running. “I can’t believe everyone’s lecturing me, yet you went to work today!”

  Virgil slowed his slightly limping pace. “Don’t give me a hard time, Hartlan. As for lecturing, sorry, but I’m in lecture mode. I can’t handle any more fire shows and injured women.”

  “That’s kind of what Caro said.” She shrugged. “How are your feet?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Can’t blame me for trying—but I am concerned about you.”

  “I’m fine. As for you—”

  “Come on, Virgil,” she interrupted. “Be honest. You would’ve done the same thing I did when you heard those explosions.”

  “You’re right,” was his immediate answer. “But I would have told my partner that I was headed for the campground. I would have had backup at my side when I was out at that parking lot.”

  “I told the office where I was. And if I’d waited for backup, Lozen would’ve burned to a crisp—along with those precious baby clothes of hers.”

  “Instead, you nearly were. Now you’re heading straight from the hospital to the office.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “Just what else do you expect me to do?”

  Desiree checked for cars and crossed the street, ignoring the curious looks of locals and visitors alike. Virgil took her good arm and guided her down an accepted shortcut, a clean dirt alleyway between two buildings.

  “I want you to show good sense. Especially when it comes to Jondell.”

  “Are we back to this again? The inexperienced sheriff? Listen, I’m not the one who went riding into the night without a shirt or a saddle!” She felt guilty as soon as she said the words.

  “Well, excuse me all to hell if I was worried about you! At least I stayed away from flying car parts.”

  Desiree thought of the burned feet beneath the stiff boots he was wearing; her vision blurred as tears sprang to her eyes. Her mother had raised her two daughters to be self-reliant. Nothing except love was given freely; everything else had to be earned or fought for. The kindness, the courage of this man unexpectedly touched her. He’d even lost his ride home with Wyatt and Caro to stay with her now.

  “Yes, you were the sensible one,” she said softly. “The brave one. I’ll never forget your kindness, Virgil. Never.”

  They were in the alley, alone. She was out of uniform. And she was there with a man limping for love of her, if Caro was to be believed. She had to go with her gut instincts—she had to do it.

  She stepped forward into the arms of the man who had saved her life. With her uninjured arm, she reached for his neck and pulled his head down to hers. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him—not on the cheek, but on the mouth. Hard. Long. With gratitude. Respect. Admiration...

  And a woman’s curiosity to see what she’d get back in return.

  Desiree didn’t wait long. Virgil kissed her with a man’s strength, a man’s passion, which she’d never permitted other men to exhibit. By now she would have backed away to cool things down.

  Not with Virgil Bodine. She strained as close as her sling would allow, lifted herself higher to meet his kiss. She felt his excitement and felt an answering excitement in herself.

  But most of all, his touch, his kiss spoke of an overwhelming joy and relief that she was alive.

  In his arms, I really am, she marveled. But is that just the chemistry between a man and a woman? Or is it more? Hell, I’m no blushing wallflower. I’m thirty-five years old So why don’t I know what’s going on with this man?

  Desiree was the one to break the kiss. Despite her confusion, she smiled as Virgil asked, “Did I hurt your shoulder?”

  “No, you didn’t.” She raised her arm a little, sling and all. “See? I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a mess. Your hair is burned to a crisp, you can’t move your arm, and there’re stitches in your forehead.” His fingers moved upward to gently lift her hair and check the white bandage beneath. “At least they aren’t bleeding. Still, don’t look in a mirror for a while, lady,” he said gruffly. “You look like the Bride of Frankenstein.”

  Desiree actually grinned. “Flatterer. At least I’m not limping like Igor. Besides, I’m not worried about my looks.”

  Virgil didn’t respond to her levity. “Damn it, Desiree, you should have gone home with Caro. After what happened at the caves...”

  I don’t want to think about that. I could have been killed. We all could have died.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were at the campground?” Virgil asked within the shadowed privacy of the alley.

  “I phoned the office.”

  “You should have told me! I thought I was your partner.” The vehemence of his words surprised her.

  “I can’t be that, Virgil. I can’t be your partner and your sheriff, your boss, too. Don’t you see that?”

  “When it comes to you, I—” He shook his head and backed away.

  What do you want, Virgil? she almost said. But I can’t ask that question. If Caro’s right, if you say you want me, I won’t know what to reply.

  Desiree reached for his arm. “Come on. Let’s see Jondell.”

  The feelings their kiss had stirred up weren’t gone. That much she knew. For now, though, they were tucked out of sight.

  Even if she wasn’t in uniform, duty called.

  DESIREE IGNORED the shocked reaction of the staff as she and Virgil entered the office.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, boss,” Jamie said, rising from his desk to pull out her chair for her. “You must be feeling better.”

  Marta was more reserved in her greeting. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” she asked. “Virgil, I thought you were going home with the sheriff. After all, we have Jondell in custody.”

  “I want to see him first,” Desiree said. “Then I’ll go home.”

  “I told you, Jondell’s not talking to anyone,” Virgil reminded her. “His lawyer hasn’t shown up.”

  “Nonetheless... Jamie?”

  Jamie removed the keys to the four-cell jail. In Old Tombstone, the courthouse was the place for criminals. Small, stark cells with a bucket for “necessities” were used for those awaiting trial or, worse, headed for the hangman’s noose. But the old courthouse and jail areas were now a museum. Modern cells had been added behind City Hall. It was to these that Desiree, with Jamie in front of her and Virgil behind, went straightaway.

  “Where do you want him?” Jamie asked as they walked down the hall. “Where he is, or in the consultation room?” A secure room off to the side was available for clients and their lawyers.

  “Put him in the consultation room,” Virgil instructed.

  “Want me to stay, Virg?” Jamie asked.

  “No, I’ll be staying, Jamie.”

  Desiree, still mindful of Virgil’s burned feet, still tasting his kiss on her mouth, was unable to correct them. Jamie should be
giving Virgil orders, not the other way around, and both men should be taking orders from her. Instead, she quietly said, “I don’t need either of you.”

  Desiree placed her hand on the doorknob to the consultation room. “Jamie, read Jondell his rights again, get him in here, then leave us alone.”

  “Uh, you sure that’s wise, Sheriff?” Jamie asked.

  “Let me come with you, Desiree,” Virgil insisted.

  “Jamie, you’re needed back in the office. Virgil, I’ll be fine.” She’d be quite safe. There was no place for Jondell to go except through the windowless hall and into the sheriffs office. Desiree stepped inside the interrogation room to wait, closing the door behind her.

  The room was cheerless, silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner. There was a table cemented to the floor, with brackets for handcuffs, two chairs and a mirror that was really a two-way observation window. The one fluorescent ceiling fixture cast a bleak, cool light on everything below. Also present was the smell of clinical antiseptic, barely masking the odor of human sweat...human suffering... human fear.

  Just like Phoenix. Funny how jails all smell alike, whether old or new, in big cities or sleepy little towns. Except, back in Phoenix, I was a lawyer, not a sheriff. I never felt as tense as I do now.

  She touched her stitched and aching forehead. All right, I’m not tense. I’m flat-out nervous. This would be the first time she’d ever seen Jondell alone.

  She took in a deep, calming breath. I am not out of my element, she told herself. I am a strong woman, the sheriff of Tombstone. Time to look it. She removed the sling, folded it up and shoved it in her jeans pocket. Soon after, she heard the snick of the heavy-duty lock mechanism as the door opened. It was Jondell, escorted by Jamie and a limping Virgil.

  Virgil undid one of Jondell’s handcuffs and fastened it to the welded iron loop on the table.

  Jamie carefully guided the prisoner into the chair opposite her.

  “Did you read him his rights?”

  “Yes, ma’am, in front of Virgil, no less. Jondell doesn’t want a court-appointed lawyer. He’s still waiting for his own.”

  Desiree nodded. “Leave us, please. Come back in half an hour.”