2000 Kisses (20 page)

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Authors: Christina Skye

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: 2000 Kisses
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So that was it. Maria thought he was up early because of this woman sleeping under his roof. She was in mother-hen mode, wanting to protect him from a conniving female. But then, Maria had been there when TJ. had been involved with a journalist and damn near ran himself
into the ground traveling back and forth between Almost and L.A.

“Where is your son now, Maria?” Tess asked gently before T.J. could interrupt.

“The
senor
sent him to school. Now my son owns six grocery stores in New Mexico, and I have four beautiful grandchildren,” Maria said proudly.

T.J. swiped the back of neck, avoiding Tess's raised brows. She didn't seem to be surprised by the news.

“Smooth your feathers, Maria,” he muttered, annoyed at being cornered by two females in his own house. “Ms. O'Mara's brother is a friend of mine. He sent her down here because she might be in danger. No one you don't know personally is to be allowed in the house and Tess will be with either me or one of my deputies at all times. If you have any questions you should call me immediately.”

“The
senorita
is trouble, I am thinking,” Maria said, shaking her head.

“Aren't all women?” T.J. countered.

Maria threw up her hands and rushed out as the bell clanged in the outer courtyard.

T.J. scowled at his watch, wondering who could be downstairs at this hour. He had his answer even before Maria ushered in his guest. The low, off-key whistling could only be Grady's.

“If this isn't a certifiable emergency,” T.J. drawled, “I just might have to shoot you.”

Grady chuckled. “Nice words for a colleague and old friend.” He grinned at T.J. “Maybe you're feeling poorly because you didn't sleep too well last night. On account of your visitor and all.” He nodded in greeting to Tess.

“I slept just fine,” TJ. lied. “Now, do you want some coffee or are you going to stand here jawing?”

“I'll take the coffee, but only if Tess or Maria made it. That brew of yours isn't fit to feed a cow.”

In the kitchen, Maria frowned at Tess's cappuccino machine, studying it from every angle. “You are out of luck if you want coffee from this, Senor Grady. No one comes into my kitchen when I cook.” Picking up her simple percolator, she filled it with water, added coffee to the basket, and plugged it in. “You will settle for my coffee, which will be finished in a few minutes.”

“Good enough. Just so it doesn't get up and walk around, I'll be happy.” Grady frowned at Tess. “You look worn out. He didn't do anything to you, I hope.”

T.J. gave a disgusted sigh. “I didn't do a thing to her, Grady. She had a long drive and then she suffered heatstroke, remember?”

“I'm fine,” Tess said, sounding distracted.

“I guess you're right. There was also that excitement with your man friend who got himself arrested.”

“You want to run that past me again?” TJ. said, sitting up straighter.

“She told me the fellow she was involved with turned out to be a criminal, and dial's why she had to go on the run. Not that I'd dream of mentioning the truth to anyone else. She told me it was a strict secret until the investigation is finished.”

Maria mumbled something under her breath and shook her head as she cracked eggs into a bowl.

“She told you all that, did she?” TJ. said, intrigued.

Tess regarded him with a level stare and a closed mouth.

Grady nodded, helping himself to a chocolate doughnut
from a carton beneath his arm, then pushing the box across to T.J. and Tess.

What had made the woman concoct such a damned fool story? And if there was even a
grain
of truth to it, he'd find the man and tear him into tiny pieces.

He looked up to find Grady studying him intently.
“What?

“Just wondering, that's all,”

TJ. took a gulp of his coffee and grimaced. “Wondering what?”

“Why you two were kissing inside the old jail last night.”

“We weren't kissing'
McCall and Tess spoke in unison.

“I've got six witnesses who say you were.”

“Doc Felton being one, I suppose.” TJ. ran a hand through his hair. “The man can't see across a room with his bifocals on. Mae isn't much better.”

“That would explain two. Tom Martinez tells me you were snuggled up mighty close last night before you left the office.”

“His shirt was caught on my dress,” Tess said quickly.

“Must have been a trick of the shadows.” TJ. said at exactly the same time.

Grady sat back, measuring the general uneasiness. “So what exactly is going on between the two of you?”

Maria slammed down two cups of coffee on the pine table. “Yes, you will please to tell
me
what is going on also.”

TJ. gestured toward Tess. “I'm the sheriff; that little lady there might be a possible target of a crime. Other than that, nothing's going on, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop digging for news where none exists.” He
eyed the brown paper bag Grady had set on the table with the box of doughnuts. “What's in there?”

Why was Tess so quiet, he wondered. He'd expected a sharp comeback—in fact, he'd wanted one.

But she simply gave him a tight smile.

“Mae's cheesecake,” Grady said around a swallow of coffee. “It's chocolate pistachio swirl today. She put in some barbecue ribs left over from the cafe last night. She thought you two might be hungry.”

T.J. rubbed his jaw, anticipating another glare from Maria if he so much as peeked inside the bag and sniffed. “Maybe for lunch. I'm primed and ready for Maria's
huevos.

“Hmppph.” Still sniffing, Maria carried in plates mounded with omelettes, biscuits, gravy, and sausages. Whisking the bag away, she muttered in Spanish about unhealthy breakfasts and how typical of a man to eat such things in the morning. “You will die young if you are not careful, and this would be a great pity,” she added in English.

T.J. was too distracted by Tess's calm to comment. Why was she so damned quiet? And why hadn't she denied that she'd been involved with a criminal?

Personally involved.

TJ.'s fingers drummed on the table. She smiled at him and took a bite of omelette and chiles.

The whole story was a product of her imagination— it had to be. But suddenly T.J. seemed to have lost his appetite. He rubbed his jaw and pushed away from the table, ignoring Tess and Grady as he strode outside.

T.J. was still pacing die courtyard ten minutes later when Mae's bright red pickup truck rumbled over the wash. T.J. had visitors at the ranch once or twice a week, but now he was starting to feel suspicious. He went to the gate, his hands on his hips.

“If you're looking for Grady, you just missed him.” He gestured to the dirt blowing over the narrow, curved road.

“I'm not looking for Grady.” Mae shot a glance over T.J.'s shoulder toward the house. “Just thought I'd check to see how things were going. And I forgot to send you some potato salad with those ribs.” She held up another brown paper bag.

“Things are fine,” he muttered. “Any reason they shouldn't be?”

“None that I know.” She studied T.J. keenly. “How does Tess like the ranch?”

T.J. noted that Mae, too, was on a first-name basis with Tess. “How about some coffee?”

Her eyes brightened. “You happen to have one of those cappuccino things that Ms. O'Mara makes?”

“Afraid not.”

“Still asleep, huh?” Mae gave him a measuring glance. “Busy night, I guess.”

“Not the way you're thinking.” TJ. walked back through the courtyard and sat on a bent twig rocker. “And for your information, Tess is in the breakfast room right now, eating me out of house and home. Maria made enough for an army, as usual.”

“And I'll bet you haven't eaten at all.” Mae handed him a container of potato salad and a plastic fork. “I hear you two were standing awfully close inside the jail last night.”

T.J. clamped down hard on his temper. “My blasted
badge got caught on her dress. I was trying to work it free. Nothing else was going on.” He ripped the lid off the container and stabbed the fork into the salad.

“Is that a fact?”

“What's that's supposed to mean?”

“It means you're a damned poor liar, Jackson McCall.” Mae paced through the courtyard, then turned to stare at him, long and hard. “I saw what I saw. So did a whole lot of other people.”

T.J. crossed his arms in irritation. “Don't tell me you're a one-woman ethics committee sent here to find out my intentions toward our newest visitor. If you are, forget it. Maria beat you to it. But she was questioning Tess about her intentions toward
me

Mae smiled tightly. “So are you feeling guilty about something?”

“I might, if anything had happened, which it didn't.”

“You're a moral man, Sheriff. That's a good thing. But that's a fine girl you've got sleeping beneath your roof. You might not want to be too moral.”

T.J. stared at her in mute shock. “Too moral? Are you saying that Tess O'Mara and I should—”

“Damned right I am. Life's too short for regrets or apologies. Be sure to give my regards to the young lady. If she has some free time this afternoon, maybe she could drop by the cafe for a chat. I've got some ideas about those chile products, and I'd like her professional advice. After that the head of the 4-H club would like to talk to her about her lecture. She wants to know if Tess prefers to speak before or after the demonstration of cattle-castration equipment.” Mae strode past him to the gate. “Give my regards to Maria, if you will. And you might
want to close your mouth now, Sheriff, or stuff it with some of that salad. Otherwise you'll be catching flies.”

As Mae climbed back into her truck and drove off, T.J. slammed the lid on the potato salad and strode into the house.

Tess was dressed and sitting at the table, nursing another cup of her exotic coffee. “Maria is doing laundry,” she said absently.

He motioned toward the door. “Let's go.”

“Go? Where?”

“I have business to take care of in town.” Damn. Why couldn't she just stand up and follow him out to the car with no questions asked? He was in no mood for more talk. Being around Tess left him feeling too edgy.

“I'll stay here.”

“Dammit, you're coming with me.”

“It's not a good idea,” she argued. “I need to—”

“The point is not negotiable, Duchess.”

She snapped her head up and glared at him. “You're not my keeper, McCall.”

“The hell I'm not,” he countered, struggling to control his voice and his temper. “No matter how you or I feel about it, it's my job to protect you. I can't do that if I'm in town and you're out here.”

She caught an angry breath. He saw anger fight with uneasiness. The sight stirred a painful wave of protectiveness in him.

“I'll bring the car around to the front.”

A tight smile curved her mouth. “You sheriff; me possible victim?”

“That's right,” he snapped. “That's why you're here and we'd both better remember that.”

 

T
he instant Tess set foot in the sheriffs office, routine flew out the window. Heads seemed to turn in their direction more than usual. Cars slowed in passing.

Then the visitors started arriving. Grady showed up, papers in hand, asking for Tess's opinion on some layout changes he was considering for the
Almost Gazette.
She suggested more photos, more interviews, and a relationship column. Grady was planning to add all three by the time he left. After that, Doc Felton dropped in to check on his patient, and the two discussed the merits of French roast versus espresso roast coffee beans, while T.J. pretended not to listen.

Seated at his desk, he fielded four calls regarding his role in the hostage situation and tried to ignore the curious glances of half a dozen town residents who happened to be walking by the sheriffs office.

Tess seemed to be having the time of her life.

Dressed in her new red boots, a short, flirty skirt, and a brightly embroidered denim shirt, she sat in a wooden desk chair at the window, oblivious of the commotion outside or the fact that
she
was the cause. She answered every question with energy and enthusiasm. She listened, then made suggestions. Good suggestions, TJ. admitted. But she didn't understand that she was on display, being
carefully measured as a candidate for a relationship with the town sheriff.

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