Kathryn Albright – Christmas Kiss From The Sheriff (страница 10)

“Got you all set up right over here, Miss Starling.” He walked to the smallest buggy that he’d already hitched to a horse.

She looked about the stable. “Has Miss Gilliam come by?”

“Haven’t seen her.”

“She must be detained. Well, no matter. If you will assist me I’ll drive by her father’s store and fetch her.”

Just as Mr. Jolson started toward her, Bradley, Eileen’s younger brother rushed into the livery. He stopped short just inside the large door.

“My sister ain’t comin’, Miss Starling. She ain’t feelin’ good. Had me come to tell you.”

“Oh.” Gemma lowered her shoulders as his words actually sunk in. “Oh... Thank you for letting me know. She’s ill, you say? Should I come check on her?”

“Naw. She’s just got one of her headaches. Can’t stand the sun.” He turned quickly and raced back out of the stable.

What was she to do now? She really had to get out to the Odoms’. She couldn’t let things go until after Christmas break. It might be too late by then to entice Billy and Tara back to school.

Mr. Jolson stood by the buggy, waiting to see what she would do.

“I won’t be needing the buggy after all,” she said, disappointed.

“Sorry, miss. I’ll leave it hitched for a while, just in case you change your mind.”

“Thank you.” She stood there, undecided on what to do next.

Mr. Jolson watched her a moment more. “I got to take ol’ Tartar here down to the blacksmith,” he finally said, taking up the reins of a dun-colored pony.

“Oh...of course. Please go ahead. I’ll see myself out...”

When he’d left with the pony, she surveyed the stable once more.

“You wouldn’t have gone far with the buggy,” a deep, familiar voice said from the darker corner of the stable.

“Sheriff Parker. You’ve been eavesdropping!” She glared at him as he came to stand before her. He wore a deep brown leather jacket, tan canvas pants and brown boots. A dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw.

“That I have. It’s a good quality to have as a sheriff.” He tipped the brim of his tan Stetson. “I heard you were looking for me yesterday.”

“Yes. Only to ease your mind that Miss Gilliam would be accompanying me today.”

“Seems those plans have changed.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You wouldn’t have gone far past the school in that buggy. The trail requires that you ride horseback.”

She scowled. “Now, there is a bit of pertinent information that you could have shared with me.”

His blue eyes twinkled. “I can tell by that determined look on your face that you are still considering heading out of town.”

“You cannot stop me.” It was a stubborn, childish thing to say.

He raised one brow. “Sure I can. You are not going alone. I won’t have that on my conscience.”

“You would use brute force?”

“Might. Or handcuff you to that post.” He indicated a nearby iron ring for tethering horses.

She was appalled...and frustrated. “That would be most indecent.”

They glared at each other. After a good long while, he indicated with his chin two horses standing near the farthest stall—a black and a chestnut. “I took the liberty of saddling the mare.”

He wasn’t giving her the choice. It was either go with him, or not at all. Very well. She tugged her gloves on tighter and started toward the horses. Halfway there, she stopped and stared at the saddle on the smaller animal.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m used to sidesaddle.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m getting a new appreciation of your upbringing, Miss Starling. This must be quite a change for you from... Boston.”

“You have no idea.” Then she realized what he’d said. She had hoped he would forget trying to figure out her past. The game had been unwise. She realized it the moment he had started asking her questions. “You found out.”

He nodded. Once.

How much had he come to know about her? She swallowed and with a forced casualness, stepped up to the mare and stroked its warm neck. “How?”

“You dropped a few clues.” He tilted his head, indicating he’d help her mount. “You’ll figure out the saddle.”

She was relieved that he wasn’t going to pursue more of her past. She would be more careful with her information from now on. The horse ignored her ministrations, but for a flick of its ears. “I’m sure I can adjust. There can’t be much of a difference. It’s not like I’m riding an ostrich. It is still a horse.”

An amused grin inched up his face. “Now, there’s a picture to think on. I’ll give you a leg up.”

She felt a bit nervous and it wasn’t about the horse or the saddle, but about him standing close as he laced his fingers and waited for her to place her boot in his hands. She steadied herself—her right hand on the saddle horn and her left one on his strong thick shoulder. She was so close she could smell the clean scent of the soap he’d used that morning. It mixed with the scent of leather and horse and was altogether...pleasant.

He shifted under her hand, and then straightened, a question in his eyes. She realized she’d hesitated.

“Ready now?” he asked, his brows raising, and the brilliant blue of his eyes capturing her for a moment.

She nodded and took hold of the pommel and the cantle. She placed her boot in his hands and he boosted her up. In the space of a heartbeat she was on the saddle and then sliding...

“Whoa, there!” he said, and clasped on to her waist to steady her.

She blew out a breath. “I’ve got it.”

He let go and backed off, yet all the while her skin tingled and her waist felt like it was on fire beneath her layers of clothing. She tugged at her coat and then straightened her felt hat in an effort to make herself feel “all together” again. Then she realized that he was waiting for her to settle, and she stopped fidgeting.

He handed her the reins and then walked around her horse, adjusting her stirrups to the length of her legs. “All set for this?” he asked, a doubtful look twisting his expression.

She nodded gamely. “Lead on, Sheriff.”

He led her horse out the smaller back door of the livery and handed the reins up to her. “I’ll meet you at the school in ten minutes. Take it slow to give me time.”

He had surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be sensitive to the situation. His unstudied competence suddenly made her feel secure and protected... She blew out a slow breath. And all the more aware of him.

It was a bit...unsettling.

“Thank you, Sheriff.” She urged her horse to the small side street. When she looked back over her shoulder, he had already reentered the livery.

Her seat felt foreign at first—and hard—and she wished she had thought to wear thicker undergarments. At this rate, her derriere would have a pink glow—if not a blister or two—by the time she returned to Molly’s. She passed Mr. Winters with his young son in tow as the two entered the barber shop.

“Out riding, Miss Starling?”

“Yes. I couldn’t resist. Just for a bit.”

“Well, it’s fine weather for it. Good day.” He turned into the shop.

He hadn’t seemed off in the least! Not about her riding astride, or about her riding alone. She sat a little taller in the saddle.

She passed Molly’s boardinghouse and then turned north, following a trail away from town that led diagonally through the woods to the schoolhouse.

Once she arrived at the school, she waited for the Sheriff. Five minutes later he appeared riding up from the stream.

“Ready?”

She urged her horse up beside his. “I would appreciate you taking it slow. It’s been a while since I rode—more than a year.”

“You will understand why a buggy won’t work once we turn off the main road.”

They continued for a mile in silence, persisting farther north. A light wind gently rocked the branches of the tall pines and rustled the naked branches of the few oaks that lined the route. On each side of the road, curled, dead leaves and acorns littered the ground.