Candy Halliday – A Ranch Called Home (страница 4)

“You must be Ben,” he said, sticking his hand out. “I’m your Uncle Gabe.”

“Wow,” Ben said, stepping around Sara. He shook the hand he was being offered. “I’ve never had no uncles before.”

“Nice horse you have there,” he said.

“His name’s Thunder,” Ben said with pride.

“I like horses, too,” he told Ben. “I have a lot of horses on my ranch in Colorado.”

“Wow,” Ben said again, turning around to look at Sara. “Did you hear that, Mom? Uncle Gabe has lots o’ horses on his ranch in Col-dorado.”

Several people chuckled over Ben’s pronunciation.

But not Sara.

She placed her hand gently on Ben’s shoulder, nudging her son away from the man who was threatening to steal her sanity. “Go back to your playroom now, Ben, and stay there until I come for you,” Sara said sweetly.

The look she sent Uncle Gabe was anything but sweet.

How dare he introduce himself to Ben!

She looked at her son to find Ben’s mouth puckered in a little-boy pout. “Go now, Ben,” Sara repeated, and gave her son a gentle push.

“Okay, Mom,” Ben finally said, but he sent a small wave in his uncle’s direction. “Bye, Uncle Gabe.”

Gabe pulled himself up and dusted himself off.

“See you later, partner,” he had the nerve to say.

Over my dead body! Sara vowed.

The people suddenly parted and Sheriff Dillard walked up beside her. Howard Dillard was a big man, in his early sixties, and extremely fit for his age. People in Conrad called him Mr. Clean, not only because of his sterling reputation but also because he resembled the TV commercial character.

Dillard removed his hat and blotted his bald head with his handkerchief. “Is this the guy causing all the trouble?”

“He’s the one,” Dessie called out from the kitchen.

Sara and everyone else nodded in agreement.

And Sara could only pray the ugly bruise forming on the stranger’s left cheek had given him the clear message he was not welcome in Conrad.

He looked at Dillard and said, “My name is Gabe Coulter and I didn’t come here to cause any trouble. I came to see my nephew.”

Dillard purposely looked around at the damage.

“And I didn’t start the fight,” he added quickly. He pointed to one of the locals standing in the back of the diner. “That big guy started the fight.”

Dillard looked over his shoulder. “Is that true, Mack? Did you start the fight?”

“No way, Sheriff,” Mack said. “He took the first swing then I decked him.”

Everyone looked back at Gabe.

“Forget it,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s obvious I’m outnumbered here. I’ll pay for the damages.”

“And what about the damage you did to my son?” Sara demanded, hands on her hips now. “How dare you waltz in here and inform my son you’re his uncle without my permission. Don’t you realize how confusing that could be for a five-year-old?”

“You tell him, Sara,” someone in the crowd agreed.

He simply stood there, staring at her.

“I apologize,” he finally said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have introduced myself to Ben without your permission. But when I saw him, he looked so much like my brother when Billy was that age, that I…”

Sympathy pulled at Sara’s heartstrings for a second.

But only for a second.

And Dessie definitely wasn’t sympathetic over the mess the fight had made. She entered the room, drying her hands on her apron as she marched in their direction. When she stopped beside Sara, Dessie pushed a strand of gray hair off her forehead and looked over at the sheriff. “I want to press charges, Howard. Lock the boy up. Maybe if he spends the night in jail it will improve his manners.”

Gabe laughed. “I can make my own bail, Sheriff.”

Dillard frowned. “You want to bet on that, son?”

“No. I can already see where this is going. But I’ve told you I’ll pay for the damages. And I’ve apologized for introducing myself to my nephew without his mother’s permission.” Gabe glanced at Sara for a second. “If she’d stop running from me long enough to hear me out, she’d know I only want what’s best for the boy.”

“Stop running from you?” Sheriff Dillard repeated. “Are you saying you’ve been stalking Sara?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “He’s been stalking me for over a year now.”

“The hell I have,” Gabe said. “I haven’t been stalking her at all. I’ve only been trying to talk to her.”

Sheriff Dillard turned to Sara. “Are you interested in anything this man has to say, Sara?”

“Not in a million years,” Sara said, staring him down.

But she shouldn’t have taken such a long look at him.

Despite the family resemblance, there was something about him that told Sara physical appearances were where the similarities between the two brothers ended. Billy had been loud and boisterous, with a fast line and a devil-may-care attitude. This man had an air of confidence about him that said he took life seriously. The determined expression on his face said he was used to getting what he wanted.

Everything about him spelled danger.

Tall. A hard, lean body. Exceptionally broad shoulders. He was all cowboy from his tight-fitting shirt and faded jeans, right down to the tip of his high-dollar boots.

And those eyes.

Penetrating.

Challenging.

A similar pair of blue eyes had led her down a treacherous path before. But Sara saw something she hadn’t expected in this man’s eyes. She’d seen genuine affection for Ben when Gabe met his nephew for the first time.

That realization scared Sara even more.

“You heard the lady,” Sheriff Dillard said. “Sara isn’t interested in anything you have to say. But because I’m a reasonable man, I’m going to give you a chance to avoid any jail time. You pay Dessie for the damages. Then you go back to wherever you came from. And you agree to leave the boy and his mother alone.”

“No,” Gabe said stubbornly. “Not until she hears me out.”

He kept staring at her.

Sara glared at him.

“Well, Sara?” Sheriff Dillard said. “Are you willing to talk to him? Or do I lock him up?”

“Lock him up,” Sara told the sheriff.

She wheeled around and left without a second thought. Sheriff Dillard would keep Gabe Coulter in jail for at least twenty-four hours—Dessie would see to it. By then, Sara and Ben would be long gone.

“Ah, come on, Sheriff,” she heard Gabe say. “Are the handcuffs really necessary?”

Guilt washed over Sara for a second.

But only for a second.

She hated that he was going to jail, but he’d chosen his own fate. He’d found her. She’d told him she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. So he should have accepted her answer and gone back to Colorado the way Sheriff Dillard suggested.

Jail was Gabe Coulter’s own fault—not hers.

With a clear conscience, Sara hurried down the hallway. She was going to find her son. Then she was going to get as far away as possible from another handsome Coulter who was threatening to turn her life upside down.