Run Wild With Me (7 page)

“Aren’t you burning up?” she asked him, wondering why he wasn’t more upset about the news.

“No. I like saunas.”

Andrea’s hair was already hanging in damp tendrils down the back of her neck. She waved at a friend across the street. The woman wore her hair
in a short punk style. Andrea almost smiled as she tried to imagine what Ed Pinyon would say if she showed up at the Fourth of July picnic with spiked orange hair.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Ed walked out of the courthouse. He came down the steps and stopped by her open window. Darn. If she’d been a half-second quicker …

“Andrea? What’s this about you taking over Buck’s job as police chief?”

“It’s true—” she started to say, but Ed kept talking.

“You’re wearing a uniform! Really, Andrea, how do
you
expect to … who’s that?”

“Good morning to you, too, Ed. I expect people to accept me as an officer of the law. Why aren’t you out shaking hands and building roads?” Sam seemed to be asleep. With any luck, he’d remain that way.

“Just came over to pick up my new suit and submit my bid on that stretch of county road out by the Warren place. I’ll get it. Nobody else has the equipment and manpower.”

“I’m sure you will, Ed. You’ve brought your dad’s company a long way.” Sam stirred slightly. She could tell that he wasn’t asleep.
Please, Lord
, she said to herself,
just let him keep on playing possum
. She could predict what would happen if Ed said something rude to Sam. Fireworks!

She glanced up at Ed. He was successful, and he looked the part, dressing the way he thought the world expected a future politician to dress—a crisply ironed shirt and designer jeans. Though she couldn’t see them, Andrea was willing to bet
that he was also sporting the handmade snake-skin boots of which he was so proud. Ed’s expensive boots made her think of Sam’s worn ones. Sam Farley’s boots had been where boots were meant to go.

Ed was still talking, and she had no idea what he’d said. She just wanted to get away from more questions.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” she interrupted, “I’ve got to get back. Buck’s at the station alone, with his leg in a cast.”

“I said who is that guy? Surely Buck isn’t allowing you to transport prisoners!”

“No, he isn’t a prisoner, and he won’t be as long as he remains
silent
.”

Ed leaned down, a serious expression on his face. “About that stranger out at the old Hines place,” he said authoritatively. “You stay away from him.”

Andrea’s eyes narrowed. “Wait just a minute, Ed. Don’t give me orders. I’ve got a job to do.”

“Surely you don’t take all this police business seriously, Andrea. I don’t want you to get hurt by trying to deal with some low-life hitchhiker.”

She covered the growl coming from beneath the Stetson by clearing her throat.

“Ed! You don’t even know him. He’s Mamie Hines’s grandson. He’ll be leaving in a few days. I’ve got to go.”

Andrea put the car in reverse and backed it out of its parking space, bringing Sam’s side window next to Ed.

“We’ll talk about this tonight, Andy,” Ed called.

At that moment Sam raised up, sliding his hat
to the back of his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, Governor. She’s already got a date with me.”

“Andrea!” Ed shouted. “Who the hell
is
this guy?”

“None of your business, Ed.” Andrea sped down the street, leaving him open-mouthed on the sidewalk.

Sam laughed softly. “If that’s the man in your life, Chief Fleming, you’re in big trouble.”

“How dare you tell Ed that we have a date tonight!” Andrea shook her head from side to side, furious with Sam and alarmed at what she’d just said to Ed. “There’s no man in my life. But there’s nothing wrong with Ed Pinyon. He’s simply an old friend.”

“I don’t believe that’s what the tycoon thinks.”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe. I have one more little duty to perform, Sam Farley, and you’d better not open your mouth if you treasure your freedom.”

When Andrea stopped at the state-patrol headquarters, Sam apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He covered his face with his cap and slid back down in the seat while she went inside and requested a confidential police report on her passenger from Lewis Hayslip, the sergeant on duty.

“Last address?” Lewis asked.

Andrea took a wild guess and said, “Texas.” According to the will she’d picked up, the property had been left to Millie Lynn Hines, only child of Mamie and Jed Hines. There was no mention of Sam Farley.

By the time she got back to the car, two of the
secretaries were standing at the window talking to Sam. Wonderful! With more than a little abruptness, Andrea nodded at the women, slid into the police car, and squealed the wheels as she backed up and drove rapidly out of town.

Sam bit back a smile, but he didn’t open his mouth. Being in demand by the women in Meredith County was something he could deal with. Getting the statuesque chief of police to be the one to demand him was becoming an interesting challenge. Jail might even be worth it.

Back at Mamie’s place, Andrea stopped the car and let the motor run as he slowly got out.

“Would you care to come in for a refreshing drink of that cold well water you mentioned earlier?”

“Nope. Got to get back to town.” Andrea made a quick decision and hoped it was a good one. “Sam,” she added with concern in her voice, “I’m sorry about the taxes. I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is, Chief. You could take me to lunch.”

“Not today, Sam. You could always go down and eat with Louise. Her biscuits are wonderful.”

“But darlin’, Louise Roberts just doesn’t fill out a police uniform like you do.”

Andrea left him whistling a show tune as he started up the drive.

Halfway back to town she realized that she was humming the same song.

“What took you so long?” Buck asked. “It’s lunchtime.”

“I ran into Ed, who isn’t too happy about my taking over your job. He doesn’t think it’s
proper
.”

“You’re sure it’s Ed that’s got you acting uppity, and not Sam Farley?”

“I’m sure,” she replied firmly.

“And?” Buck’s expression was far too innocent. “How is the stranger in our midst this morning?”

“Fine enough to tell Ed Pinyon that I have a date with him tonight, instead of Ed.”

Buck’s cast came down with a crash. “What?”

“I picked Sam up on the highway, hitchhiking over to the courthouse to talk to the tax commissioner.”

“You don’t mean he’s considering making a claim?”

“I don’t know, Buck. All I can tell you is that he seems to be trying to settle in. And I don’t know what I think about that. Here’s the copy of Mamie’s will.”

Andrea handed Buck the copy of the will and walked through the connecting door to the city-hall office to escape his questions. She was still angry with Buck for assuming that she belonged with Ed.

Two water-payment envelopes had been slipped through the pay slot in the outside door. Andrea turned her ledger to the proper page and posted the payments.

“The boy’s got a claim all right,” Buck called from the other room. “An out-of-date driver’s license and a birth certificate. Seems to be in order. Lists his father as a Granger Farley, place of birth unknown. That name sounds familiar.”

Andrea turned out the light and walked back into Buck’s office. “I don’t think we have to worry about Sam’s father. Sam was named for Farley
Granger, a handsome movie star in the old fifties movies. Millie was a fan. Sam doesn’t know who his father was.”

“Pretty personal conversation you must have had. Do you think Sam’ll pay the taxes?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Andrea sat down on a bench by the door, fanning herself listlessly as she watched a small black dog lick a half-eaten ice-cream cone on the sidewalk.

“What makes you so sure, Andy?”

“He walks into town, carrying his belongings on his back. Says he’s a carpenter who likes to roam the country, picking up the jobs that pay the most. Everything about the man is temporary.” Andrea found herself remembering his eyes, those dark eyes that teased and seemed to make a joke out of everything, then covered his emotions with a frown.

She sprang restlessly to her feet and pushed the screen door open. “Think I’ll walk down to the post office and get the mail,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Don’t be long,” Buck agreed vaguely. “I’m meeting Otis at the café.”

Andrea felt Buck watching her as she crossed the street, nodding to Brad Dixon. If he was reading the widow Tolbert’s meter, it had been moved into the barber shop.

Andrea picked up the mail and started back down the sidewalk, coming to a stop when she spotted Buck already in the truck with Otis Parker.

“Eh, Andy,” Buck called out guiltily, “I’m going with Otis to check on his brakes before we eat.”

“Good idea,” Andrea agreed seriously. “I’d rather
eat Louise’s fried chicken and biscuits too. Need a ride back?”

“Nah. Don’t worry ’bout that, Andy,” Otis said, pumping the truck’s brakes vigorously, “I’m going to run on over to Cottonboro and pick up a kit to rebuild these consarned brakes. I’ll pick Buck up—no trouble.”

She laughed. “Uh huh. I’m glad they didn’t put you in traction, Pop, or Otis would have to push you down the highway in a hospital bed.”

It was past one o’clock when she heard the screen door open. If one more person happened by the police station to ask about the “wild-looking” stranger, she’d put her bullets back in her gun. Andrea sighed and turned around.

“Hello, darlin’. I’m going to give the future governor a break. I’m going to take you to lunch instead.”

Andrea groaned. Sam Farley,
again
. He was leaning lazily on the counter that separated the reception area from the office and cells. She wasn’t prepared for this. She hadn’t expected him.

“What are you doing here?” Andrea asked.

“I came to apologize,” he said softly. “The last thing I want right now is trouble with the law in your town.”

Andrea took a deep breath and felt all her resistance melt away. They were three feet apart, gazing at each other wistfully. She didn’t know about him being in trouble with the law, but with those dark eyes scorching her with hot intensity,
the law
was in big trouble of her own.

Andrea was glad the counter was between them. They were in the middle of the Arcadia Police Department, it was high noon, and she was being faced down by her own private outlaw.

“I’m on duty, Sam,” she said quietly.

“And police officers on duty don’t eat lunch? Look, we don’t have to go in the patrol car. Let’s just walk to the café down the street.”

“I appreciate your apology, but I don’t need this constant upheaval in my life. It used to be calm and serene before you came to town. Why are you doing this?”

He looked confused. “The truth is, I thought taking you to lunch would be fun.”

“Fun? I think you like your life to be chaotic. You need the challenge of the game, don’t you. Why?”

Why indeed? Sam asked himself, not at all sure. He’d walked into town under a broiling sun, in the middle of lush, green, humid country where hardly a breath of air stirred, all to see this woman. He truly didn’t know why he’d come. All he knew was that his pulse was racing, and it wasn’t from the heat.

When he’d seen her in her pristine uniform earlier that morning, he’d understood why women always fell for cops. He was the civilian, and all he wanted to do was bend down and kiss the chief of police. There was something so right about her, this woman staring stormily at him with summer eyes flecked with gold.

Lanky and lush, she was the most sensual woman he’d ever met. It didn’t even matter that she looked ready to strangle him. She was firm in
her resistance and her duty, and he couldn’t figure out what kept him from giving up.

Andrea recaptured her composure. “Get in the police car, Mr. Farley, and I’ll take you home—again.” She strode past him and waited in the doorway. “I’m not going to have lunch with you because that would give an official status to our relationship.”

“You mean a man and woman can’t just have lunch without making a statement of intent. Come on, Chief, this is the nineties.”

“This woman can’t, Sam.” Andrea clenched her fists in quiet frustration.

“Hmm.” He grinned. “What will the good citizens of Arcadia, not to mention your father, think when they see you and me drive off in the patrol car?”

“You’re learning,” she said with a grimace. “By this time tonight, the story will be that I spend more time with you than I do on my job.”

“Well, I would be a lot more fun.” He stepped so close to her that she could feel his breath caressing her face.

“Fun? Stop it, Sam. What are you trying to do to me, ruin my reputation?”

“Aw, Chief.” He grinned wickedly and whispered, “Don’t you ever want to shake this town up by doing something completely outrageous? Let go, Stormy. Run wild with me.”

Andrea had always heard the expression “dancing eyes,” but until now, she’d never seen them. Until now she’d managed to avoid looking at Sam. In the sunlight she saw that his eyes weren’t black—they were the rich brown color of boiling
cane syrup, just as it was ready to be poured into the jar. The disquieting thing was, they were just as hot.

“Get in the car, Farley,” she snapped. “I live here. Reputations are important in Arcadia. You seem determined to ruin mine.”

“Sorry. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.” He let himself be pushed away, then strolled to the car. “In the future I’ll be more subtle.”

“You, subtle? I’d like to see that.”

“You’re going to. Want me to get behind the iron screen so you’ll look official?”

“Gracious no. By the time I got to the city limits, Agnes would be inundated by people wanting to know who my prisoner was. Just get in, Sam.”

Sam complied, watching Andrea settle into the driver’s seat. All of this game playing was new to him. Why couldn’t his grandmother have lived in Chicago? The only reaction they would have gotten from the neighbors there would have been relief that he was in the police car instead of one of them.