Slow Dance with the Sheriff Page 5

‘Jess and Holt will be back soon enough. Nate, too, God willing. Everyone else is pitching in to help.’

  She filed that away for future reference. ‘What happens at a fall festival?’

  He smiled. ‘You’d hate it. Livestock everywhere.’

  Heat surged up her throat. ‘I don’t hate cows…’

  ‘I’m just teasing, relax. Candy corn, rides, crafts, hot-dog-eating competitions. Pretty much what happens at fall festivals all over the country.’

  She stared at him.

  His eyebrows rose. ‘Never?’

  The heat threatened again. ‘I’ve never left New York.’

  ‘In your entire life?’

  She shrugged, though she didn’t feel at all relaxed about the disbelief in his voice. ‘This is my first time.’

  ‘Summers?’

  Her lips tightened. ‘Always rehearsing.’

  ‘Family vacations?’

  ‘We didn’t take them.’ The way he’d frozen with his sandwich halfway to his mouth got her back up. ‘And you did?’

  ‘Heck, yes. Every year my gram would throw me and her ducks in her old van and head off somewhere new.’

  The ducks distracted her for a moment, but only a moment. ‘You lived with your grandmother?’

  His eyes immediately dropped to his plate. He busied himself mopping up the last of the jam.

  She’d grown up with Matt for a brother. She knew when to wield silence for maximum effect. Jed lasted about eight seconds.

  ‘My parents got pregnant young. Real young. Dad got custody after Mom took off. Gram was his mother. They raised me together.’

  Mom took off. There was a lot of story missing in those few words. If only she didn’t respect her own privacy so much—it necessarily forced her to respect his. ‘But your dad wasn’t in the van with you and the ducks every summer?’

  ‘He worked a lot. And then he—’ Jed cleared his throat and followed it up with an apple-slice chaser ‘—he died when I was six.’

  Oh. The charming cowboy suddenly took on an unexpected dimension. Losing your parent so young… And here she was whining about having too many parents. ‘That must have been tough for you to get over.’

  ‘Gram was a rock. And a country woman herself. She knew how to raise boys.’

  ‘Is she still here in Larkville?’

  The eyes found hers again. ‘I’m not from Larkville, originally.’

  ‘Really?’ He seemed so much part of the furniture here. Of the earth. ‘I thought your accent wasn’t as pronounced as everyone else’s. Where are you from?’

  ‘Gram was from the Lehigh Valley. But my dad was NYPD. He met my mother while he was training.’

  New York. Her world—and her hopes at anonymity—shrank. She moderated her breath just like in a heavy dance routine. ‘Manhattan?’

  ‘Queens, mostly. He commuted between shifts back out to the Valley. To us.’

  ‘And he’s the reason you became a cop?’

  ‘He’s part of it. He, uh, died on duty. That meant there was legacy funding for my schooling. It felt natural to go into law enforcement.’

  Died on duty. But something much more immediate pressed down on her. ‘You studied in New York?’

  His eyes hooded. ‘I lived and worked in Manhattan for fifteen years.’

  Her voice grew tiny. ‘You didn’t say. When I told you where I was from.’

  ‘A lot of people come from New York. It’s not that remarkable.’

  So she just asked him outright what she needed to know. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  That surprised him. ‘Why? Are you famous?’

  His cavalier brush while she was stressing out didn’t sit well with her. She took the chance to push her plate onto the footstool next to them. ‘Be serious.’

  He stared at her. Doing the math. Consulting his mental Who’s Who of New York. She saw the exact moment that the penny dropped. ‘You’re a Patterson Patterson?’

  She stared back. ‘I’m the oldest Patterson.’ By six minutes.

  Or…was. Charlotte was now. Wow. That was going to freak her middle sister out when she discovered it.

  He chewed that over as thoroughly as his supper. But his inscrutable expression betrayed nothing. ‘Wish I’d known that before I rescued you from the steer. I might have kept on driving.’

  Not what she was expecting. Nervous wind billowed out the sides of her sails and was replaced by intrigue. ‘Why?’

  Tiny lines grew at the corners of his eyes. ‘Your father’s politics and mine differed.’

  Ellie sat up straighter. ‘You knew him?’

  ‘Nope. Didn’t need to.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning some of the circles he moved in weren’t ones that I had a lot of time for.’

  Defense of the man she’d called father for thirty years surged up. Despite everything. ‘If you were really from New York you’d know he hasn’t moved in any circle for the past two years.’

  ‘I came here three years ago. Why? What happened?’

  She wasn’t about to discuss her father’s Alzheimer’s with such a vocal critic. And—really—what were the chances he’d truly cut all ties and not even kept up with what was happening in the city he’d lived in. ‘He’s been unwell.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why? You didn’t like him.’

  ‘I didn’t like his politics. There’s a difference.’

  ‘Even if he lived and breathed his politics?’ To the exclusion of all else? At least that’s how it felt, although his increasing detachment to his two oldest children started to make more sense since she opened Jess’s letter.

  His eyes grew serious. ‘I know what it’s like to lose a father. So I’m sorry.’

  He did know. But did he know what it was like to lose one three times over? Her father was no longer her father—first in mind, now in fact. And her apparent biological father was dead.

  ‘Look at us having a real conversation,’ he joked lightly after the silence stretched out like Deputy in front of the fire. The storm had settled to a dull rumble.

  She’d failed to notice it easing. How long had they been talking?

  His eyes fell on her plate. ‘You going to eat that?’

  For everyone else, eating was just a thing you did when you got hungry. Or at parties. For her, eating was something personal. Private. She took a slice of apple and then slid the rest over to him. He started to demolish it.

  ‘What made you leave New York for Larkville?’ she asked, nibbling on the sweet fruit.

  Instant shutdown.

  She watched it happen in the slight changes in his face. But not answering at all would just be too much for his Texan courtesy. ‘The politics I told you about,’ he hedged.

  There was something vaguely uncomfortable about thinking that her family was responsible for anyone uprooting their life. Even by association. She scrabbled around for a new topic. ‘What about Deputy?’ The dog lifted his horse’s head on hearing his name. ‘Is he a New Yorker, too?’

  Dogs were apparently neutral territory because Jed’s face lightened. ‘Born and bred.’

  ‘You said you and he had a deal? About how he behaved. What did you mean?’

  He shifted more comfortably on the sofa. ‘Deputy had some…behavioural issues when I got him. Our agreement was that he got to spend his days with me if he could manage his manners.’

  ‘He’s a rescue?’

  ‘He was a canine-unit dropout.’

  She looked at the big brute sleeping happily on the floor and chuckled. ‘What do you have to do to flunk being a guard dog?’

  ‘He wasn’t trained for guard duty. Unit dogs were used for detection—drugs, firearms, explosives, fire, bodies.’

  ‘Locating the dead?’

  Jed nodded. ‘Others are trained to take supplies into dangerous situations or to recognise the signs of trauma and approach people in need of comfort and therapy.’

  Ellie glanced at Deputy—all fur and teddy-bear
good looks. ‘He’d be good at therapy. Is that what he did?’

  Jed shook his head. ‘He was a tracker, tracing criminals through the back alleys and sewers,’ he said. ‘He was good, but he…was injured.’ His eyes flicked evasively but then settled on Deputy again. ‘Couldn’t earn his keep.’

  Ellie had seen the police dogs working with their human partners on Manhattan’s streets. ‘What happens to the ones that can’t work?’

  He stretched his leg out and gave Deputy a gentle nudge with his boot tip. ‘The lucky ones end up with me in a town full of people that spoil him. Hey, boy?’

  Deputy’s thick tail thumped three times, four, against the timber pile…but the rest of him didn’t move. The boot kept up its gentle rub.

  So Sheriff Jed had a big, soft heart. Why did that surprise her? ‘Well, he’s fortunate he met you, then.’

  ‘Depends on how you look at it,’ he muttered.

  She shot him a sideways look.

  Suddenly Jed was on his feet flattening his hand in a signal to Deputy to stay put. ‘I should get going. Storm’s easing. I’m going to leave him here with you tonight.’

  Here? With her? The half-baked dog certainly looked content enough, but…would he be so compliant once his master had gone? ‘That’s not nec—’

  This time Jed’s hand signal was for her. It said don’t argue. He snagged his dry coat off the chair back. ‘You’ll feel more secure with him here.’

  ‘In what universe?’ The words slipped straight from her subconscious to her tongue.

  Jed chuckled. ‘You didn’t have dogs growing up, I take it?’

  ‘We had a cat. And it was pretty standoffish.’ Her mother loved it.

  ‘Think of it as an opportunity to bond, then.’

  Bond? With a hundred-plus pounds of wet dog? ‘What if he needs to…?’ She waved a hand to avoid having to use the words.

  ‘He’s already…’ Jed imitated her gesture. ‘Just let him out quickly before bed. He knows where to go if his bladder’s full.’

  ‘What if it’s raining?’

  ‘Then he’ll get wet. Or hold on until morning. Seriously, Ellie. It will be fine. He’ll just lie by the fire and help you ride out the storm.’

  ‘I don’t need help. I like storms, remember?’

  He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Who knew, maybe the sheriff had a hot date tonight and wanted a dog-free zone. She looked over at Deputy, who lazily opened one eye and then closed it again.

  Okay, so she was a dog sitter. Stranger things had happened…

  She followed Jed to the door. He turned and looked down at her.

  ‘Well, thanks for supper, Ellie. I appreciate it.’

  She shrugged. ‘You made it.’

  He wasn’t put off. ‘You humoured me.’

  ‘I didn’t mind the company.’ Though she’d not realised she was craving any until she had his. ‘It was…nice…talking to you.’ And, strangely, that was true.

  He stared down at her for an age, a slight frown in his voice. ‘We should do it again.’

  Or…not. Deep and meaningful discussions were not her forte. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t push our luck?’

  His sigh managed to be amused and sad at the same time. ‘Maybe so.’ He snaffled his hat off the doorknob. ‘Night, Ellie.’

  ‘Good night, Sheriff…’ He turned and lifted one eyebrow at her. ‘Jed. Good night, Jed.’

  And then he was gone. She watched his shadowy form sprint up the path in rain half the strength of earlier. Even knowing he was just next door she felt a strange kind of twinge at his departure. Enough that she stared for a few moments at the vacant spot he’d just been in. But then the cool of the night hit her and she backed inside, closed the door and then turned to look at her house guest.

  Deputy was sitting up now, his thick tail wagging, a big doggie smile on his face. Looking like he’d just been waiting for the party pooper to leave.

  ‘Good boy…’ she offered, optimistically.

  His tail thumped harder.

  ‘Stay.’

  The big head cocked. Ellie took two tentative steps towards him. He didn’t move. Two more brought her parallel to him in the tiny accommodations and two more after that had her halfway to the kitchenette. Still the dog didn’t move.

  Maybe this would be okay.

  She reached for the kettle and filled it again with water, then turned back to put it on the cast-iron stove.

  There was nothing but air where a dog had just been. Her eyes flicked right.

  Deputy had made himself at home on the sofa, stretching his big paws out on Jed’s beautiful hand-crafted throw and looking, for all the world, like this was something he was very accustomed to doing.

  ‘Off!’ she tried.

  Nothing.

  ‘Down?’ Not even an eye flicker. She curled a hand around his collar and pulled. Hard. ‘Come on, you lug…’

  Nada. Eventually she gave up and just squeezed herself onto what little dog-free space remained on the sofa.

  And there she sat as the tail of the storm settled in for a long night of blustering, the golden glow of the fire lighting her way, her own breath slipping into sync with the deep heavy canine ones beside her.

  And as the minutes ticked by she didn’t even realise that her hand had stolen out and rested on Deputy’s haunches. Or that her fingers curled into the baked warmth of his dark fur.

  Squeeze…release. Squeeze…release.

  Or that her mind was finally—blissfully—quiet.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE tapping on his door was so quiet Jed was amazed it cut through the three hours of sleep he’d finally managed to grab. Ninety minutes after leaving Ellie’s, he’d been called out again to assist with a double vehicular out towards the interstate and then he’d just rolled from one stormy night task to another until he finally noticed the light peeking over the horizon and took himself off the clock.

  Never a good look, the county sheriff driving into a post because he was so tired.

  Unfortunately, dragging his butt out of bed just a few hours after falling fully dressed into it really wasn’t high on his list of things to do on his rostered day off. He yanked the door open. Deputy marched in with a big grin on his chops. The woman behind him wasn’t smiling.

  ‘He slept on my bed!’

  ‘What?’ It took Jed a full ten seconds to even remember he’d left his dog with Ellie last night. Bad owner.

  ‘Deputy. He helped himself to the other side of my bed. Made himself right at home.’

  Deputy? The dog who’d staked out the mat by the fireplace in his house? The dog raised to live in a kennel? The dog that’d been so slow to trust anyone? ‘What have you done to him?’

  Her fine features tightened. ‘I didn’t do anything. He climbed up after I’d gone to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to his snoring.’

  Jed turned. Deputy thumped. ‘Opportunist,’ he muttered. He turned back to Ellie, rubbing the grit from his eyes. ‘Maybe he was scared of the storm. Or maybe the fire burned out.’

  Her delicate fingers slid up onto her hips and it only made him more aware of how someone could have curves without seeming curvy.

  ‘Or maybe he’s just a terrible, undisciplined dog,’ she suggested.

  ‘That seems a bit harsh…’

  ‘He was on my bed.’ Those green eyes were trying hard to look annoyed.

  ‘It’s a big bed, there’s plenty of room for two.’ Not that he actually knew that from experience. He’d had it to himself the entire time he lived in the barn. Her coral lips opened and closed again wordlessly and he realised she actually was genuinely scandalised. Time to be serious. ‘Did you ask him to get down?’

  Whoops. Wrong question. Determination flooded her face.

  ‘He ignored me, Jed. He’s uncontrollable. No wonder he flunked out of the canine unit.’

  The instinct to defend his old pal was strong. Flunking out of the unit was never Deputy’s fault. ‘Well, now… Tha
t’s not true, watch this.’

  He took Deputy through his paces, sitting, dropping, staying, presenting a paw. He responded to every command exactly on cue.

  A pretty little V formed between her brows. ‘He didn’t do that for me.’

  ‘I guess he doesn’t recognise your authority.’

  ‘What do I need, a badge?’

  The outrage on her face was priceless. Maybe princesses from the Upper East Side were used to their name automatically carrying authority? Where he came from—and where Deputy came from—respect was earned. He ran tired fingers through his hair, tried to restore some order there. ‘You just need him to accept that you come above him in the pack.’

  Her whole body stiffened, and he thought he’d be in for an earful, but then her face changed. Softened. Slim fingers crept up and clenched over her sternum. ‘I’m…I’m part of his pack?’

  The unexpected vulnerability shot straight to his chest. ‘Sure you are. You shared a den.’

  She stared at Deputy, a haunted fragility washing briefly across her face. ‘But he thinks he’s boss?’

  ‘Not for long.’ Jed snagged his coat off the rack and swung it on, before her confusion weakened him any further. ‘Come on. I’ll show you around Larkville.’

  Sleeping in your clothes had some advantages. First, he was fully dressed and much more able to just walk out the door than if she’d caught him in his usual morning attire. And second, being in uniform helped legitimise what they were about to do. Appear in public, together, on an early morning stroll. Not that it would stop certain tongues from wagging.

  ‘We’re going for a walk?’

  ‘Exercising a dog is one of the fastest ways to show it where you fit in the pack.’

  ‘I’m going to walk him?’ He might as well have said they were going to jump from a hot-air balloon. ‘But he’s huge.’

  Jed pulled the door shut behind them and slid the snout harness over Deputy’s eager nose. ‘Dogs. Horses. Cattle. They’re all the same. Just get their heads pointed where you want them to go and they’ll do the rest. Every command you give him will reinforce your dominance.’

  Her brow folded. ‘I don’t want to dominate him.’

  ‘I’m not talking about him cowering at your feet. I’m talking about him trusting you to be his leader. Respecting your choices. Believing in you.’ He thrust the lead into her unprepared hands. ‘If he pulls, stop. When he stops pulling, go again.’