Oregon Outback (13 page)

“What’s the problem here?” Sheridan spoke with authority, inserting herself into the dispute.

When Carver turned, Sheridan schooled her surprise. He had a shiner.

Ronny stood straighter when he saw Sheridan. “Carver got into a fistfight with Joe Miller.”

She couldn’t believe this. “Carver, I thought you were going after the rustlers.”

“And I thought you put your deputies to work, asking around town to see what they could find out.”

Displeased with his tone, she skewered Carver with her gaze. “My deputies have been working on that all day, as they go about their daily activities.”

“Well, they missed talking to Joe. He knows something. Even taunted me, but he wouldn’t tell me who stole my cattle.”

Sheridan looked at Ronny. “Where is Joe now?”

Ronny shrugged. “I questioned him then let him go. He’s not talking if he knows anything.”

“Sheriff, you’re wasting my time by keeping me here. I’m supposed to meet up with Ray. He and what men we could spare have already headed out.” Carver postured himself, challenging her.

“Ronny will go with you.”

Carver’s face turned red. “Ronny let Joe Miller go. I don’t want Ronny coming along with me so he can mess up something else.”

Then, to Sheridan’s surprise, Carver stomped right by her toward his truck. Ronny looked from Carver to Sheridan like he wanted to see who would win this battle. Sheridan had no intention of losing face.

She stomped behind Carver. “Mr. Love. I need you to cease and desist. I haven’t released you yet.”

The man had the nerve to ignore her and opened his pickup door. Sheridan yanked the cuffs off her belt and slammed them against his left wrist. He glared up at her, eyes wide. “What the …”

Before he could react, she’d completed cuffing him.

He opened his mouth. “What are you charg—”

“Disturbing the peace. You are belligerent on so many levels, I can’t even name them all, but there has to be a misdemeanor in there somewhere. If you want things to get worse, just keep talking.”

Carver clamped his mouth closed, but his jaw tensed.

There.
Let’s see who’s man enough now
.

Y
ou need to remember your place.” Sheriff Hall ushered him into a jail cell and removed the handcuffs.

He turned around as she slammed the door. He stared at her through the bars, her emerald eyes boring into him. Aware that he’d aggravated her, pushed her too far this time, Carver looked away. Maybe he shouldn’t have pressed Joe for the truth so hard that Joe punched him. Maybe he shouldn’t have defended himself, hitting back.

Sure he’d been disrespectful to the sheriff about her deputies, but he’d never held Ronny in high regard, and for the guy to just let Joe go?

Carver paced the cell, trying to decide how best to reason with Sheriff Hall. She’d left him to himself at the moment so even if he beat on the bars, she probably wouldn’t hear him down in the basement. Nor would that set him free.

Exhausted from the events of the last few days, Carver sat on the cot. She’d not even allowed him his phone call.

But … he wouldn’t call a lawyer, or quibble with her, because Carver loved Sheriff Sheridan Hall. Today was the most time he’d ever spent in her company. If he didn’t have a ranch to run or rustlers to catch, he might prefer to stay in jail if that meant seeing her.

He’d been too stubborn to own up to his feelings, but deep down, he knew it was true. No other woman had ever captured his heart like her. Had ever fueled his mind, challenged him, like her. He’d tried to convince himself he didn’t care. Admittedly, he’d been too outspoken about his opinion that he’d rather see someone else as sheriff. But that was because he hated to think of Sheriff Hall in the line of fire. Rimrock County hadn’t experienced any serious crime until someone had followed his brother, Jonas, here.

That the sheriff—
Sheridan
—had faced a hardened criminal who could have killed her, well, that brought all the turmoil inside to the surface. His daddy believed there were certain jobs for women, and sheriff wasn’t one of them. Call him old-fashioned, but Carver had struggled to disagree.

He eased down onto the cot and covered his face with his hat. Might as well grab some shut-eye because as soon as she let him out, and he didn’t doubt she would, he’d have to make good time, searching for those rustlers.

Sheridan shoved through the door of the county offices into the evening heat, Ronny on her heels. She hadn’t eaten all day and was starving, and she bet Carver was hungry, too.

“What are you doing? You didn’t even read him his rights.”

She whirled to face the deputy. “He’s a child. I’m giving him a time-out.”

A slow grin spread over Ronny’s face. “I get it now. He doesn’t like that you’re sheriff, and you’re showing him who’s boss. The only reason you’d care to do that is because you like him.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I have every intention of booking Carver Love on charges if he won’t see reason. Now, if you want to keep your job, you need to find Joe Miller. Find out what he knows. I can’t believe you let him go.”

Ronny frowned. “He doesn’t know anything.”

She lifted a brow. “He’s not going to tell you with a crowd watching. Find him and get me something. Who are the rustlers? Where are they headed? Arrest him for brawling in public if you have to.”

“Am I riding out with Carver when he goes or not?”

“No. I’m going.”
You’ve done enough damage for one day
.

Ronny wouldn’t argue further because he never wanted to go anyway. She watched him make his way to his vehicle, then she headed next door to order takeout. Barbecue sandwiches and two small bags of potato chips in hand, Sheridan headed back. What was she doing?

She’d bought Carver his favorite chopped beef sandwich. The fact that she knew his favorite disconcerted her. Somewhere she’d heard that he loved these sandwiches, and she’d stored that information, tucked it away in her memory. Why in the world would she do that? The man was just plain impossible to get along with.

Ronny was wrong. She didn’t like him. Not one iota.

Taking the last step down into the basement where the cells were—the place reminded her a little of a dungeon—Sheridan started having second thoughts about buying the barbecue. She might have to explain how she knew this was his favorite. Why she treated her prisoner to barbecue. If he pressed her, she’d have to charge him with something, or he could have her hide for mistreating him.

Unfortunately, her decision was on the emotional side. Still, she’d done it for his own good, to protect him. He was going after the rustlers in the wrong way and could end up getting hurt. A shiner was one thing, but he could get shot or worse, killed.

Sheridan needed to reason with him, and hopefully remedy the situation.

Carver was the only man in her jail, and the dungeon was quiet. She found him lying on the cot, hat covering his face. He’d been crestfallen when she’d closed the barred door in his face, and now he slept in his cell.

Something shifted in her heart.

She jingled the key in the lock. Carver sat up, catching his hat as it fell away. He positioned it back on his head. Sheridan crossed the distance and sat next to him on the cot. Carver scooted over to give her room, his eyes wide.

She held up one of the sacks. “I brought a peace offering.”

A crease appeared in his forehead, and he opened the sack. He breathed in the aroma. “Barbecue? You brought me barbecue?”

“Did I get it wrong? I thought it was your favorite.” Now she’d done it. Why had she told him that? What kind of sheriff did that?

Carver stared at her long and hard. Sheridan’s throat twisted in knots. His gaze held admiration—was he glad she’d brought him the sandwich? Then why didn’t he just say so?

In that moment, something passed between them. If Sheridan was a romantic, she would have thought Carver was about to kiss her. All over a sandwich. If she’d known barbecue would bend him to her thinking, she would have catered it to his home at least once a week.

But no. That wasn’t it. Carver’s look said he saw past the sheriff exterior to the woman inside.

“A peace offering?” Carver closed the sack and set it aside, disappointing Sheridan. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but before I eat, I need to know something.”

Sheridan’s stomach protested. “What’s that?”

“Why have you locked me up when those rustlers are getting away?”

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You don’t want to see me get hurt.” The words were a statement, not a question. Carver looked away from her, thoughtful. “Have you ever before locked up anyone because you didn’t want to see them get hurt?”

The man knew what questions to ask. “You’d be the first.”

Half a grin cracked his face, and something akin to pleasure warmed his eyes. “Then I’ll share a secret with you. That’s the same reason I don’t like you as sheriff. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Carver’s tone was warm, genuine. Caring. Reminding her of the past.

Their brief romantic encounter.

Heat poured through Sheridan’s veins. “Now that we understand each other, do we have a truce? I’d rather not bristle every time I see you in town. I’d rather be friends.”

Carver’s half grin flattened. “Let’s eat.”

He ate, but his expression remained troubled.

When he finished off the sandwich and chips—Sheridan had only eaten half of hers—he wadded up the brown paper bag. “Now, are you going to let me out?”

Stuffing her unfinished meal in the sack, Sheridan stood to look down at Carver. “On one condition.”

Carver rose, standing a head taller and meeting her gaze. Did she see a glimmer in his steely eyes? “I’m listening.”

“You plan to meet your boys, right?”

His chin jutted out, his usual stance when he was about to challenge her, and he nodded.

“You need the law on your side, Carver. I’m going with you.”

S
tanding in his kitchen, the light over the stove chasing away the darkness, Carver slammed the rest of his water. He and Sheridan had teamed up to chase down the rustlers. He didn’t like it one bit, but he didn’t have a choice. She was the law in Rimrock County.

Carver smiled despite the long night ahead. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the day Sheriff Hall locked him in jail and bought him his favorite barbecue.

The sheriff had a heart. But he’d never doubted that.

He rubbed his hand over his jaw. And in that heart of hers, she held a soft spot for him. Just like he did for her. He prayed that whatever lay ahead of them over the next few days would bring them closer, but feared the opposite more likely.

In the end, Joe had spilled what he knew to Sheridan. He stumbled into a back alley late one night on his way to his car and overheard two men disagreeing about their plot to steal range cattle. Driving them east a good fifty miles, they’d graze them in the hills before loading them onto a semitrailer and heading out of state. Cutting through the Warner Valley on Hogback Road, they’d connect with Warner Highway and cross the border to Nevada. By the time the cattle were discovered missing, they would be long gone.

Idiots. They proved that too much drinking would loosen a man’s tongue every time. What they didn’t know was that Carver discovered his missing cattle because he’d changed his habits, bringing the cattle in earlier than usual. The men knew his habits.

They must know Carver. His blood stewed.

Even with this information, they could still miss the men. Lose his cattle. Sheridan had contacted the state police for help in watching the highways. Every cattle trailer would be inspected.

He and Sheridan would trailer the horses and drive to the region north of Warner Valley to search in the same vicinity where they’d spotted cattle from the air. He didn’t doubt the men were skittish after they were spotted by a plane.

Carver’s plans hinged on a call from Ray via his satellite phone and if they’d discovered anything. Ray and the boys would chase down the rustlers and hopefully run them straight into Carver and Sheriff Hall. In addition to the state police, she’d alerted her deputies and the sheriffs in neighboring counties.

This was their best chance, barring that it wasn’t too late. Carver had about five hours to catch some shut-eye then Sheriff Hall would meet him at the ranch, and they’d make the drive. He grabbed a shower and just before he got into bed, he heard from Ray.

“We haven’t found anything yet,” Ray said. “We’re settled in for the night and will get an early start in the morning.”

“Sheriff Hall and I plan to be north of the Warner Valley by dawn.”

“The sheriff? I thought you were dead set against bringing her.”

Long story
. “She’s the law around here, Ray.”

“I can’t wait to hear what’s got you singing a different tune.”

Carver deserved Ray’s surprise, so he’d let the barb slide. Ray had been his right-hand man for so long, the guy was like a brother to him. “Starting tomorrow I want frequent updates. Once we find a place to park the trailer, we’ll head your way.”