Buckhorn Beginnings (29 page)

“Yeah, the fact that I'm a pregnant, supposedly desperate female was proof positive that I'd steal from a man I'd worked with for two years, even though I'd never been in trouble before in my life.”

“Your boss knew you were pregnant?”

“Morning sickness kind of gives you away. That and the fact that I suddenly had more nights free.” Misty was only vaguely aware of the beautiful scen
ery as they drove down the long road. The sun was bright, the day hot, but the air-conditioning in the truck had her feeling chilly.

Or maybe it was the dredging of memories that made her feel so cold inside. “I wasn't dating Kent anymore, and I knew that with the baby coming I needed to save up more money, so I'd offered to work more overtime.” She slanted Morgan a look. “That made me seem guilty, too, by the way. My boss said small amounts of money had been missing several nights in a row, which was the first I'd heard of it, but he claimed that was why he'd come in unexpectedly to check on me that day, and found the money missing.”

“When exactly did this all take place?”

She told him the exact day she'd been arrested.

Morgan surprised her by lifting her hand to his mouth and then turning it to gently kiss her palm. “I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable riding with me.”

Misty held her breath as his mouth moved against the sensitive skin of her palm. That, added to the gentle way he had of speaking to her sometimes, left her feeling vaguely empty and jumpy inside.

She swallowed hard. “After everything I've been through, it's silly to let a little ride get to me. But you just can't imagine what it was like. There were tons of people gathered outside the video store when I was arrested. They led me out in handcuffs and I just wanted to die. I thought I'd be glad to get in the car, where people couldn't see me, but instead, it
seemed we hit every red light and folks in the other cars would stare.”

Morgan slowed for a deer that ran across the road, distracting Misty for the moment. He spoke quietly, holding her hand on his thigh. “Sweetheart, people are always going to stare at you, no matter what, because you're beautiful. That's something you just ought to get used to.”

Laughing helped to wash away the melancholy. “You may find this hard to believe, Morgan, but no one has ever carried on so much about my looks. Honey was the one the guys were always after. Men prefer blondes, you know.”

“Sawyer certainly does.” He turned to give her a lazy grin. “But I'm not Sawyer.”

“You've got me there.”

“You know what I prefer?”

She started whistling, which only made him chuckle. “I prefer dark-haired women with long, sexy legs and incredible…”

“Morgan—”
she warned.

“—smiles.” He laughed at her expression. “Such a dirty mind you have, Malone. What did you think I was going to say?”

She reached over and smacked him for that, then couldn't help laughing again. “I figure I'm only slightly better than average-looking—and I'm giving you the slightly better based on all this praise you've heaped on me lately.”

He didn't look at her, just made a sound of dis
agreement. “You can ask any man and he'll tell you the same. Hell, just hearing you talk makes me hard, even when I don't like what we're talking about.”

Of course she looked, then immediately jerked her gaze away. “If you don't stop being so shameless—” She sighed, unable to think of a threat that might carry any impact. It annoyed her that he'd once again gotten her to stare at him in a totally inappropriate way.

“You'll what? No, don't answer that. And for your information, I can't seem to help it.”

She tugged her hand free, tucking it close so he couldn't retrieve it. “Keep your lips to yourself. That might be good for starters.”

“Malone, I swear, one of these days you're going to take back those words.”

She laughed again. “You're incorrigible.”

“And a distraction?”

She blinked, realizing that he had, indeed, distracted her. She nodded, giving him his due, but felt it necessary to point out the obvious. “My ride then was a little different. I was in the back, handcuffed, and the officers were in uniform—and armed.”

Morgan grinned at her. “The county insists the Bronco is partly for my personal use, sort of a perk, so you're not the first woman to be seen in it.”

“Did I ask for that information?”

“I just wanted you to know that if anyone stares this time, it'll be with a different kind of curiosity. And I do wear a uniform when I'm on duty, which I'm not right now. As to being armed, it's a habit.” He made that statement, then shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Misty turned slightly in her seat to face him. “You carry a gun around with you?”

“All the time.”

Once again she looked him over, then cocked an eyebrow. “Must be a good hiding place.”

“Want to search me, Malone?”

Yes, but she wouldn't tell him that. “I'm waiting.”

“You're no fun at all, but we'll work on that.” He leaned down and lifted the hem of his jeans. “Ankle strap. I wear a belt holster when I'm on duty.”

She'd seen him in uniform, and the sight had been impressive indeed. He looked nothing like Andy Griffith, that was for sure. When Morgan got decked out in his official clothes, he looked like a female fantasy on the loose. His shirt fit his broad shoulders to perfection, and his slacks emphasized his long, strong legs. The holster around his waist gave an added touch of danger to his dark good looks.

She imagined the females of Buckhorn County would continue to elect him sheriff just to get to see him in uniform each day.

Not that he didn't look great today in his jeans and soft T-shirt.

Misty eyed the small handgun in a leather holster. It was attached to an ankle cuff with a Velcro strap. Despite herself, she was fascinated. “Do the good citizens of Buckhorn know about that gun?”

“You kidding? They insist on me holding up my image. Why, if they thought I wasn't armed, they'd be outraged. They each consider me their own personal sheriff, you know.”

“Especially the women?”
Ouch.
She hadn't meant to say that.

Morgan gave her a knowing look, but thankfully didn't tease her. “Men and women alike, actually. Half my job is spent letting them bend my ear and reassuring them that the corruption of outside communities hasn't infiltrated yet.”

“If corruption hasn't infiltrated, then why do they want you to carry a gun?”

He shrugged a massive shoulder. “I told you. Image.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And I have had occasion to use it now and then.”

He had her undivided attention. “You're kidding?”

“Nope. Being that we're a small town, a few of the more disreputable sorts thought it'd be the ideal hideout. To date, I've apprehended an escaped convict, caught a man wanted for robbery, and another for kidnapping.”

Her eyes were wide. “Did you…shoot anyone?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “The kidnapper, in the knee. The son of a bitch held a gun to a woman. He's lucky that's all I did to him.”

Misty fell back in her seat, amazed. “I never would have imagined.” Morgan seemed dangerous in many ways, and he certainly held his own when it came to taking charge of any situation. But she'd never imagined him being involved in a possibly lethal situation. He could have been killed! “This is incredible.”

Again, he shrugged.

“What would the good citizens think if they knew you were consorting with a known criminal?”

“You?”

“Do you know any others?”

“Sure.” He didn't allow her to question that. He gave her a speculative look, then suggested, “You could get your name cleared, you know.”

“I don't see how that's possible.” She bit her lip. “Once something is on your permanent record…”

“I could get it taken care of. It's a lot of legal jumble, and I can explain it later, but if you really didn't take the money…”

Misty felt her heart beating faster. “I didn't take the money.” She waited for his reaction, her breath held. She wanted Morgan to believe her. It had suddenly become important to her, and not just because he wanted to help.

Seconds ticked by, and then he nodded. “I'll see what I can do.”

He said nothing else, and that, she supposed, was that.

They reached the center of town, which was really no more than a narrow street full of buildings. Misty hadn't paid much attention to it when she'd been at the hall for Honey's wedding. She'd still been too nervous about Morgan and too excited for her sister. But now she had the chance to take it all in, and she wasn't going to miss a single thing.

There were two grocery stores at opposite ends of the street, a clothing store that looked as if it had been there for over a hundred years, a diner and a hairdresser, a pharmacy… She eyed the pharmacy as they drove past, wondering how awkward it might be
to get her prenatal vitamin prescription filled; she'd run out of them yesterday.

One thing she didn't see was a bus station, and she wondered just where the nearest one was. After her comment earlier that she'd take a bus home, she felt rather foolish to realize there wasn't a bus around. You'd think one of the brothers could have mentioned that fact to her.

There were people sitting outside their shops, others lounging against the wall or standing close chatting. There were even some rocking chairs sitting under canopied overhangs, to invite loiterers.

“This is like going back in time,” she murmured as they drove to the end of the street then turned right onto a narrower side street. There were a few houses, a farm with some cattle moving around, and a funeral parlor, which was easily the biggest, most ornate structure she'd seen so far. Then Morgan pulled into the circular drive of a building that looked like an old farmhouse. It was two stories with a grand wraparound porch, white columns in the front and black shutters at every window.

“Why are we stopping here?”

“This is my office, darlin'.” He chuckled at her as he drove right up close to the front door and stopped. The double doors wore a professional sign that read: Enter at Right. Evidently that didn't apply to the sheriff.

Morgan parked and turned off the engine. “The station used to be by the county courthouse, farther into town, but it was too small so years ago, long
before I was elected, they moved it here. Makes for a bit of whimsy doesn't it?”

Morgan climbed out, and at that moment two men came around from the side of the house to greet him. “Hey there, Morgan! Didn't expect to see you today. Anything wrong?”

Morgan frowned, as if surprised to see them. “Nope, no problems. I was just showing the lady around.” He opened Misty's door and handed her out of the vehicle. Close to her ear, he said, “Two of the biggest gossips around. They weren't supposed to be here today, but that never stopped them before. And since they're here, we might as well take advantage of it.”

Misty leaned away to look at him. “I don't understand.”

“Anything they see makes the rounds of Buckhorn faster than light. This'll be a good place to start letting folks know you're off-limits.”

Misty froze just as her feet touched the ground. Surely, Morgan didn't mean to do anything in front of these nice old men! But then she met his hot gaze and knew that was exactly what he intended.

She started to shake her head but he was already nodding. And darned if he wasn't smiling again.

A
LL IT TOOK
,
Morgan thought as he watched Misty's eyes darken and her lips part, was a nice long look from him. She could deny it all she wanted, but her hunger was almost as bad as his own. When he felt it, she felt it, and right now was proof positive.

Well aware of Howard and Jesse closing in behind him, their curiosity caught, he leaned down and kissed her. It was a simple soft touch. He brushed his mouth over hers, once, twice. She drew a small shuddering breath, and her eyes slowly drifted shut, but she didn't stop him. No, she'd raise hell with him after, he had no doubt of that, but for now, she was as warm and needy as he. Her small hand fisted in his shirt, trying to drag him closer, proved it.

“Misty?” He whispered her name, watching the way her eyelashes fluttered.

“Hmm?”

His own smile took him by surprise. All his life people had teased him about his ferocious frowns, but something about Misty made him feel lighthearted, joyful deep inside. He touched the tip of her nose. “Sweetheart, we have an audience, or I'd sure do better than one measly peck, I promise.”

Her eyes flew open, then widened. She peeked
around his shoulder cautiously, saw the two men, and her own version of a fierce frown appeared. Her fisted hand released his shirt, and she thumped him in the chest. “Of all the—”

Morgan grabbed her hand, threw one arm around her shoulders and turned, taking her with him to face Howard and Jesse. “I thought I told you two not to work on the weekend.”

“Nothing better to do today. We figured we'd get it done and out of the way.”

Morgan gave Jesse a good frown to show him what he thought of that, but he knew better than to start debating with him now. “So how's the work going?”

Jesse nodded quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous, and being around women always made him nervous, especially the really pretty ones. “It's getting there. I'll have the lot of it cleared out by midweek.” Though he spoke to Morgan, his eyes didn't leave Misty's face.

Howard scratched his chin, watching Misty with acute interest. “It's looking real good.”

Amused by their preoccupation, Morgan nudged Misty slightly forward and said, “This is Honey's sister, Misty Malone. She's here for an extended visit and she'll be helping out around the station. Misty, this is Jesse and Howard.”

Both men did a double take at that announcement, but Morgan ignored their reactions, knowing why they looked so shocked. They'd obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion. He hid his grin and decided to explain things to them later.

Jesse tipped a nonexistent hat and muttered, “Nice to meet you.”

Howard stuck out his hand, realized it was covered with dirt and pulled it back before Misty could accept it. With an apologetic shrug, he explained, “I've been digging out the weeds. Messy work, that. Nice to meet you, Miss Malone.”

Misty smiled. “Call me Misty, please. What exactly are you doing back there?”

It was Jesse who answered. “There's been a ton of weeds growing in the gully out back for as long as the sheriff's been stationed here. It draws mosquitoes and gnats and it's just plain ugly. Morgan wants us to clear them out and plant a line of bushes instead. We don't have the bushes in yet, but we will soon.”

“I love outdoor work.” Misty stepped away from Morgan and headed to the side of the house to check their progress. “I used to work with my father's gardeners when I was younger. It's hot work, especially on a day like today. But I always preferred that to being cooped up inside.”

Morgan could just picture her as a little girl, hanging out with the hired help because her daddy ignored her and she had nothing better to do. It made his stomach cramp.

Howard nodded. “Know what you mean. Fresh air is good for you. I used to farm in my younger days. There's nothing like it.”

She went around the corner of the house, Howard and Jesse trailing her like she was the Pied Piper. She kept chatting and they continued to hang on her every word.

Morgan was left alone with his disgruntled feelings. Odds were, he told himself, Misty had been as endearing as a wide-eyed child as she was now. The gardeners had probably loved having her underfoot. He shook his head. Gardeners, for crying out loud.

She made one simple statement about her youth and he got melancholy. It wasn't to be borne.

He heard Jesse's cackling laugh from way out back and frowned. They'd only just met her and she already had them mesmerized. He considered waiting until they came back, then changed his mind. He unlocked the front door, which only he and the deputy used, closed and locked it, then went through the converted house to the back. In what used to be the dining room, a space now housing all his file cabinets, he stared out the large picture window.

He could see Misty standing just outside the line of displaced weeds and dirt, her hands on her rounded hips as she conversed with the men. Her dark shiny hair glinted in the sunlight, and her bare shoulders and thighs appeared sleek. She looked over the still-packaged bushes while the two old codgers looked her over, eyeing the long expanse of her legs. Morgan felt like growling.

He knew he was in a hell of a predicament when two elders made him jealous. What had happened to his acclaimed control?

He went to the soda machine in the hallway outside his office and fed in quarters. Seconds later he stepped into the yard with four icy-cold cans numbing his fingers. Jesse and Howard accepted theirs with relish, popping the tops and guzzling the cola.
Though he'd told the old men time and again to bring a cooler with drinks, they never remembered to do it.

Misty was more restrained, using the edge of her shorts to clean the top of the can then opening it cautiously and sipping. It was so hot and humid outside that the little wisps of her hair escaping her topknot had begun to curl around her face.

She squinted against the sun, wrinkling her small nose, and smiled at him. “The bushes will look great once they're in. It'll make the yard looked bigger, too, without the tall weeds breaking up the length.”

Morgan nodded, content just to look at her and drink his soda and enjoy the feel of the sunshine.

He loved the old farmhouse—and had since the moment he'd been elected and moved his things into the desk. He forced his gaze away from her and surveyed the back porch. “She's a grand old lady, isn't she?”

“She's beautiful.” Misty, too, looked at the porch with the turned rails and ornate trim. “You don't see that kind of detail very often anymore.”

“It's solid.” Morgan finished off his cola, then crushed the can in his fist. “This house is partly what inspired me to build my own home. I was forever doing improvements to the station and finally decided I needed my own place to work on. But even with my house almost complete, I still love it here.”

“Somehow, I think it suits you. Especially because you're in charge.”

“It does,” he agreed, ignoring her teasing tone. “You want to see inside where you'll be working?”

“Sure.” She turned to the men and smiled. “Howard, Jesse, it was nice meeting you.”

They each nodded, ridiculous smiles on their faces. Morgan could only shake his head in wonder. Was no man immune? As they walked through the back door, he saw her smile and raised a brow in question.

“They're very sweet.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Uh-huh. You go right on wearing those rose-colored glasses, sweetheart.”

She gasped at him in disapproval. “You're such a cynic. They're very nice men who are working hard for you. I'd think you'd appreciate that a little.”

Morgan led her into his office, which had once been the dining room. It had a large white stone fireplace, now filled with lush ferns instead of burning logs. He'd had the arched doorway framed and fitted so he could close the door for privacy. He'd never needed or wanted that privacy more than now.

He propped his shoulders against the mantel. “Jesse was picked up for fighting two weekends ago. He broke two pool sticks and several lights after a man accused him of cheating at a game. Jesse wouldn't cheat, but he does have a terrible temper.”

Misty stared at him in blank surprise.

“Now Howard, he's cooler than that. You won't catch him causing a brawl.”

“You're dying to tell me, so spit it out.” She mimicked his stance, leaning against the opposite wall.

Grinning, Morgan said, “He slipped into the theater without paying—five times in a row. He loves
the movies, but says the prices have gotten too high. Arnold kept kicking him out and Howard kept creeping back in. No one would have known, but during the last movie, he tried stealing a bite of popcorn from the woman sitting next to him.”

“And she complained over that?”

Morgan winked at her. “The woman was Marsha Werner, and he'd recently broken off a relationship with her and was, I imagine, trying to worm his way back into her good graces. She wasn't impressed, so she raised a ruckus and I finally had to arrest him. But it was Marsha who came and bailed him out, so who knows what's happening there?”

Misty tried to stifle a smile. “It's a little hard to imagine him in a relationship.”

“That's only because you haven't met Marsha. Things soured between them when she wanted to get married, but they were a good couple, like the best grandma and grandpa you'd ever met.” Morgan watched her smile widen and added, “Marsha's real fond of the movies, too, but as she continually explains to me in rather loud tones, she's an upstanding citizen and she pays for her entertainment.”

Misty lost control of her twitching smile and laughed out loud. Morgan watched her, seeing the way the heat and humidity outside had made her shirt stick to her breasts. She'd smell all warm and womanly now if he could just get close enough to her to nuzzle her soft skin.

“So what kind of sentence did each of them get?”

He held her gaze and murmured, “Community work. That's why they're fixing the yard. I bought
the bushes and they agreed to do the work. In addition, of course, Jesse had to promise to stay out of the pool hall for a month, and Howard had to pay for the movies he'd seen.”

“Ah. They considered that a terrible punishment?”

“Not the yard work, but the other, yeah. With any luck, it'll make an impression this time. But I hate to see them in any real trouble. They're both pushing seventy, and even though they get around well enough to get into mischief, they don't mean any real harm. I think they're just lonely and a little bored, more than anything else.”

She twisted her mouth in a near grimace, then asked, “When you arrested them…”

“No, I didn't handcuff them,” he answered gently, able to read her train of thought. It hurt him to see her so hesitant, to know that her own memories ate at her. He'd fix things for her one way or another, he vowed. “I didn't stick them in back of the Bronco, either. They both rode up front with me. That way, I could give them a stern talking-to during the ride. They hate that.”

Misty smiled at him for a nearly endless moment, then turned up her can of soda and finished it off. She set the can on his desk. “I'm impressed, Morgan.”

“With what?”

“Your compassion. And the fact that you obviously have a soft side, which you hide pretty well, by the way.”

He wasn't at all sure he wanted her noticing his
soft side, not that he had one, anyway. He frowned at the mere thought.

Misty gave a loud sigh. “Now what are you scowling about? I insult you and you laugh, I compliment you and you start glowering at me.”

Morgan didn't move. She had an impish look about her that intrigued him. “Come closer and I'll tell you why I'm frowning.”

“Oh, no, you don't.”

“Afraid of me, Malone?”

She made a rude sound, refusing to be drawn in by his obvious challenge. “Not likely. You're as big as an ox and built like a ton of bricks, but you don't beat up on women.”

He made his own rude sound. “That's not what I meant, and you know it.” He lowered his voice to a suggestive rumble. “You're afraid if you get too close, you won't want to move away again. But this is my office and I don't do hanky-panky here. At least, not any serious hanky-panky. So you're safe enough.”

“And what constitutes the serious stuff?”

He looked at her breasts and felt his heartbeat accelerate. “Anything below the waist?”

She swallowed and he could see the thrumming pulse in her throat. “Howard and Jesse are right outside.”

“Not for much longer. I only let them work for a few hours a day, mostly in the morning because the afternoon heat is too much for them.”

“Then why have them doing that job at all?”

She was bound and determined to distract him,
so Morgan let her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be wary of him. “Their pride is important to them, and to me. Already they've told anyone who'd listen that I've given them such a hard, impossible job, then they come here and have a great time futzing around, proving that they can do it. In fact, they complain about the short days I insist on, because Jesse used to be in construction and Howard was a farmer. They say they're used to the heat, but—” He realized he was rambling and ground to a halt.

“You're pretty wonderful sometimes, Sheriff, you know that?”

He unfolded his arms, letting them hang at his sides. In a rough whisper, he said again, “Come here.”

She took one step toward him, then halted. “This is crazy.”

Morgan nodded in agreement. Crazy didn't even begin to describe the way she made him feel.

She looked undecided and he held his breath, but she turned away. She pretended an interest in the office. Her voice shook when she started talking again. “This is your desk?”

She picked up a framed school picture of Casey and studied it.