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Authors: Carol Grace

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He stepped backward and leaned against the refrigerator. She went with him. Unwilling to let go. He loosened his grip, let his hands drift lazily down to her hips and gazed at her, his eyes hooded and filled with desire.
“Oh, Suzy,” he groaned. “I want you so much. What you do to me ought to be against the law.”
“Maybe it is,” she murmured, pressing her cheek against his chest to hear his heart thudding. “Maybe we ought to look it up in one of those old books.”
“Maybe we ought to make love and get it out of our system,” he said in a hoarse voice. His hands cupped her bottom, and she could feel the strength of his desire through her jeans. “And the hell with the law.”
“Is that the sheriff talking?” she gasped in mock horror. Anything to change the subject, to gloss over the suggestion that they go to bed together. A suggestion that had the heat building inside her, starting in her
very core and spreading like a wildfire outward until she thought she might go up in flames.
A vision of Brady in her four-poster bed, under her patchwork quilt making love to her caused her heart to race into overdrive.
“Damn right,” he said. “What about it?”
“I...” For a moment she hesitated, tempted to grab his hand and pull him down the hall to her bedroom, shedding her sweater, jeans, bikinis and lace bra as she went. Then when she was totally naked, leaving a trail of clothes in the hall, she’d take him into her room and she’d help him take his clothes off, admiring every inch of his big beautiful body as she went. She shivered with anticipation.
But a ray of sense crept into her overstimulated brain. She did not want another one-night stand. The last time was a disaster. Except for the fact that it had produced Travis, it was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. To get carried away by a handsome face and a long line of flattery and promises. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not that Brady was flattering her or promising her anything. Only a night of passion, that was all. But in the morning, what?
She knew the answer to that one from past experience. In the morning, nothing. He’d be gone, satisfied, and that would be the end of it.
“No,” she said abruptly, backing out of his arms.
“No? Why not?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “I want you, and you want me, too.”
“That’s the problem. ”I want you, but I don’t want another one-night stand.”
“It doesn’t have to be—”
“One night? I suppose it could be two or three. And then what happens? You have no intention of having a
permanent relationship with anyone, and I have no intention of having anything else.” She ran her hand through her tangled hair and with trembling legs, sat down at the kitchen table.
“I understand that,” he said straddling the chair across from her. “You’ve made it clear to me over and over. But what does that have to do with you and me? You’ve been at the diner all week. By your own admission, you haven’t found Mr. Right. So in the meantime...?”
“In the meantime I have an affair with you? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Why not?” he asked, his lips curving in a devilish grin.
“It’s a terrible idea,” she said, stiffening her spine. “Because I’ve been that way before. I know what happens. I’m not strong. I can’t resist temptation. Before you know it, I wouldn’t be paying attention to the men in the diner. I wouldn’t be looking for the man of my dreams.” As if she was now.
As if she wasn’t only too aware of every move Brady made, where he sat, who he talked to. She rushed on before she lost her train of thought. Before she got distracted by the look in Brady’s eyes, the look that said he was worth the distraction, worth the trouble, worth the agony of watching him walk away when he was through with her.
“I’d forget about my goals,” she continued. “And I can’t afford to do that. I have Travis to think about.”
“Travis likes me,” Brady said.
“Even worse. I don’t want him to like you. I don’t want him to get attached to somebody who’s not going to be around tomorrow.”
“I’ll be around tomorrow,” he said.
“You know what I mean.”
“By tomorrow you mean forever,” he said.
“Yes. Is that too much to ask? My friends have found husbands. Why can’t I?” She didn’t mean to sound plaintive or pitiful, but the warm sympathy in his eyes told her that was just how she’d sounded.
She got to her feet before he could answer. And just stood there looking at him, waiting for him to leave.
But he didn’t leave. He reached for her, put one arm around her waist, the other on her shoulder. She stiffened, determined not to let him get under her skin again. But he did. With a gentleness that rocked her to the soles of her stockinged feet, he traced the outline of her jaw, and ran his thumb under her chin.
“I understand what you’re saying, Suzy. I just hope you find what you’re looking for.” He brushed his lips across hers in another tantalizing, breathless, mind-boggling kiss.
“I will,” she whispered with more confidence than she felt. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and with every ounce of strength she could muster, she held him at arm’s length. How could she find what she was looking for with Brady’s kiss lingering on her lips? And still he didn’t leave.
“Good night, Brady,” she said.
He nodded, his lips pressed together, and without another word, he finally walked out of her kitchen.
She stood there listening to his footsteps as he walked through the living room and out the front door. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Until she knew he’d gone. Then she exhaled the breath she didn’t even know she was holding, took her bath and went to bed. And dreamed of Brady.
 
 
She began work at the diner again on Monday, filled with a renewed sense of determination She would not let Brady near her. Physically or emotionally. She would put him out of her mind. Once and for all. She would look long and hard at any available man who came in. She did so all week long.
This plan was made possible because she’d finally gotten the order taking down and had made peace with the cook. She was even able to relax between customers and chat with Dottie, the oldest waitress, a permanent fixture there. A woman who’d seen and done just about everything, according to her.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s a nice girl like you doin’ working here?” Dottie asked her on Friday as she rolled silverware up inside of paper napkins.
“I thought it would make a nice change,” Suzy said, pouring herself a cup of coffee before the lunch crowd came in.
“Used to work for the sheriff, didn’t you?” Dottie asked.
“Yes, yes, I did.”
“Handsome devil,” Dottie noted. “If I was fifty years younger, don’t know that I wouldn’t make a play for him myself. Or is he married?”
Suzy sipped her coffee slowly. Why, oh, why did every conversation—whether it was Tally or her mother or Dottie—have to center on Brady? “No, he isn’t. He was, once. I guess once was enough for him.”
“Not me. I been married three times and still lookin’ for Mr. Right.”
Suzy set her cup down. “Did you meet any of your husbands here in the diner?”
“All of them.”
“Really?” Suzy wished she’d never asked. This was
not what she wanted to hear, that Dottie had found three husbands right here in the diner and none of them had worked out. “What went wrong?”
Dottie laughed. “Everything. But I learned a lot. I can tell now just by looking, who’s a good man and who isn’t.”
“Maybe you can teach me,” Suzy said.
“Sure thing,” Dottie said, giving Suzy a pat on the shoulder. “Here’s one heading our way now. You waited on him last week, I believe. Easy on the eyes, too.” She winked encouragingly and went to the kitchen to change her apron.
The man hung his hat at the door and moseyed over to the counter where Suzy was now filling the salt and pepper shakers. Suzy remembered him. Remembered that he was tall and lean with a Gary Cooper kind of face. When he ordered the lunch special, she remembered he had a Gary Cooper kind of voice, also. She wrote fried chicken, mashed potatoes and carrots in a cream sauce on her order pad, while sneaking glances at the handsome cowboy. She’d forgotten to notice last week, but he wore no ring on his left hand. Of course that didn’t always mean anything, but still...
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said when Suzy filled his water glass. “I wonder, can you tell me where’s the best place to buy silver jewelry around here?”
“They’ve got some at the general store,” she said. “Belt buckles, rings and what not. You’re kind of new in town, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Just recently started working at the Stewarts’ place. First whole day off I’ve had. Last week I came in to pick up some fencing and stopped here for lunch. Guess you don’t remember me.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” he said. “Well, today I’m on my own. But I don’t know where anything is. Got a whole list of stuff to get. Birthday present for my mother. Toys for the kids.”
“Toys for the kids?” Oh, no, he was married.
“Nieces and nephews. I promised when I got a job I’d send ’em each something.”
“The best place for toys would be the general store,” she said with relief. “Actually it’s the only place. And the selection isn’t that great. I generally go to Reno or order through the catalogs.”
“You have kids?” he said and his mouth turned down at the corners. “Then you’re married.”
“No, I’m not. But I have a one-year-old son.”
“That so?” he said, looking up at her with undisguised interest. He held out his hand. “Kyle Henderson.”
“Suzy Fenton,” she replied, pleased at how firm his grip was.
“Pleased to meet you.”
In the absence of anything better to do, Suzy rearranged the mustard and ketchup bottles.
“You wouldn’t be available to help me with my shopping, would you?” he asked with a shy smile.
“Well, I...”
“When do you get off work?”
“At five, but I wouldn’t be much help in the jewelry department. I don’t know anything about it.”
“Bet you know what you like,” he said.
Yes, she did know what she liked. She liked men who were polite, friendly and family oriented.
She asked what kind of dressing he wanted on his salad.
He scratched his head at the number of choices, and
Suzy almost expected him to say, “Aw, shucks.” But he just ordered the ranch dressing. He was almost too good to be true. Besides polite and kind to his mother, he was also easy on the eyes, as Dottie had noted. Was this the man she’d been waiting for? Was he the reason she’d taken this grueling job?
She pictured the look on Brady’s face when she told him she’d met Mr. Right at the diner just as she’d planned. The shocked look in his eyes, the way his mouth would fall open in disbelief. That alone would be worth all the long hours and the aching muscles, she thought gleefully as she took the salad out of the refrigerator and set it in front of him.
“I hope you won’t think I’m forward,” he said, “but I wonder what single people do for fun around here.”
“Fun? Well there’s a dance once a month at the grange. Lots of the wranglers come into town for that.”
“Wranglers. But what about women?”
“Oh, yes, women go, too.”
“You, too?”
“I haven’t gone for quite some time,” she admitted, “but I hear it’s very lively.” So lively that Brady was often called to break up a fight or two.
While the stranger ate his salad, a young couple came in and sat at the end of the counter. Suzy took their orders, went to the kitchen and came back with Kyle’s lunch.
“That was real tasty,” he said, pointing to the empty salad bowl.
Suzy felt as flattered as if she’d made it herself. While she was trying to look modest, she glanced up to see Brady come through the door with a grim expression on his face.
She looked away before their eyes could meet. And
willed him to take the booth in the corner, or the table by the kitchen. Anywhere but the counter. But she knew without looking he was heading straight for her and the counter. Just when she’d met the man of her dreams. His timing couldn’t have been worse.
Chapter Nine
N
ot only did Brady come to the counter, he sat next to Kyle. Talk about sabotage. She wished she could ignore him, but the counter was all hers today. She slapped a menu down in front of him and took her pencil from behind her ear.
“Yes?” she said.
“It’s a good thing they don’t pay you to be friendly,” he said.
“They pay me to take orders and deliver food.”
“Hot roast beef sandwich on French bread.”
She turned on her heel to deliver the order to the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kyle’s surprised reaction to their curt conversation. But she didn’t delay or try to explain. The faster she got Brady’s order, the faster Brady would be out of the diner. He wouldn’t dare linger over his coffee during the busy lunch hour with customers standing behind him waiting for a seat. When she got back she overheard him strike up a conversation with Kyle, the new man in town.
“Where’re you from originally?” Brady asked.
“Who wants to know?” Kyle answered.
“Name’s Brady Wilson.”
“Brady is the sheriff,” Suzy said. “Sheriff, this is Kyle Henderson.”
“Really.” With his head tilted to one side, shaggy hair falling over his forehead, Brady gave Kyle a strangely suspicious look. “Looks a lot like Bart Henly to me.”
“What?” Suzy said. But she had no time to ponder this bizarre situation. As the counter filled up she was handing out menus, taking orders, filling glasses with iced tea, and explaining specials. She could only hear snippets of the conversation between the two men. From what she heard it seemed as though Brady was asking all the questions, and the new man was doing his best to dodge them.
“I’ve got a warrant out for your arrest, Henly.”
“You don’t say,” the stranger said with a careful ease.
“I do say. I’ve got a set of fingerprints that’ll match yours,” Brady said.
Surprised at this accusation, Suzy strained to hear Kyle or Bart’s response, but she couldn’t. Not with a customer asking to change his order from liver and onions to chicken pot pie. In fact, she strained so hard she sloshed gravy on her uniform from a side order of mashed potatoes. She had to keep her mind on her work. When she didn’t it was disastrous. But what was Brady up to anyway? Did he really have evidence to prove this pleasant-looking man was a crook? The next time she got close enough, Brady was closing in, verbally anyway. His voice was low but had a definite threatening tone.
“You want to come with me under your own steam, or will I have to take you in?” he asked.
“That won’t be necessary,” Bart said.
Suzy glanced up from the cherry pie she was removing from a pie case to see Bart get to his feet.
“Just hold it, Henly,” Brady said mildly. “You’re wanted in Yolo County for robbing a jewelry store. So come quietly, and nobody will get hurt.”
Suzy’s eyes widened to the size of salad plates. When Brady took out a pair of handcuffs, Kyle, or Bart or whatever his name was, shoved Brady forward onto the counter and ran out of the restaurant. Before he’d even finished his creamed carrots. Brady went after him, leaving half a sandwich on his plate. As the entire diner watched through the window, Brady tackled the man, threw him to the ground, cuffed him and hauled him away.
In a state of total shock, Suzy stood staring at the door. She expected the diner to erupt in pandemonium, but in reality, after an initial increase in the volume of voices, everyone went back to eating their lunches. A few minutes elapsed during which Suzy tried to make sense of what had happened, then normalcy returned. To the rest of the diner, but not to her. With shaking hands she cleared their plates and the two seats were quickly filled.
Her mind was spinning. Was the charming, mild-mannered man really a jewel thief? She’d worked for Brady long enough, she’d hung enough wanted posters on the wall, to know that all criminals didn’t look like criminals. But she’d talked to this man. She’d been considering him as a possible candidate for a husband and father. How could she have been so wrong? When would she ever learn to judge men?
She went through the motions of waiting on customers and clearing the counter, but in her mind she replayed the scene between Brady and Kyle, or Bart Henly, or whatever his name was. Wondering what she should have said, what she could have said to convince Brady that man couldn’t be a thief. He just couldn’t be. He was too nice.
She had a chance to tell Brady this when he came in later to reorder his roast beef sandwich. Most of the customers had left, the ones remaining only glanced up briefly as Brady came in the door.
“You can’t be serious about that guy being a jewel thief,” she said before he’d even sat down.
“Dead serious. Just got the message this morning over the net that he was headed this way. His partner was waiting for him out at the Stewarts’. They specialize in small-town robberies.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Why not?” he asked, taking the same seat he’d vacated before he rushed out a few hours ago.
“Because, because...he was too nice,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He shook his head. “How would you know?”
“I was talking to him before you came in.”
He frowned. “I know. I saw you through the window.”
“How long were you out there?”
“Long enough to see him come on to you.” Brady’s stomach knotted, remembering how interested in the thief Suzy had appeared to be. How, even in profile, he could see her face was flushed, her lips curved in a smile. “What was so nice about him?” he asked.
“Well, he asked where he could buy his mother some silver jewelry for her birthday.”
“Steal
his mother some silver jewelry,” Brady corrected.
“Whatever. It’s the thought that counts. Even if he invented the story, it shows he cares about his mother,” Suzy said defiantly.
Brady knew Suzy, and he knew that she’d never admit she’d made a mistake in character judgment. She was probably afraid he’d tease her about it for years. And he would. He was just getting warmed up when the bell rang from the kitchen indicating his order was ready. Suzy seemed only too happy to take a break and leave him.
“So you believed him,” Brady said when she finally returned with his sandwich. “When he said he was going to give the jewelry to his mother.”
“Yes, I did. I had no reason to doubt what he said. If you hadn’t been alerted, you would have, too. He’s a nice guy. Maybe it’s his partner who’s led him astray. Who knows?”
“Who
knows
?” Brady said. “
I
know. Because I read the background on him. He’s got priors a mile long. Come back to the office with me and I’ll show you.”
“No, thanks. I’ll take your word for it I have to work.”
“How long?”
“Until five.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’m going home and soak my feet, that’s what. Why?”
“Because I need somebody to bring the dinner over to your friend BarL”
“He’s in jail?”
“What did you think, I’d let him go on his own recognizance?”
“I thought you had somebody else in jail. There’s hardly room for two. You don’t want them suing you for cruel and unusual punishment.”
“He left yesterday, transferred to the county facility. Good timing, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Got plans for the weekend?” he asked.
“My mother’s taking Travis to Reno with her,” Suzy said. “It’s her sister’s birthday.”
“Where does that leave you?”
“That leaves me free to do whatever I want. Take in the flea market out at the old drive-in, rent a video or stay in bed all day reading a novel if I want, why?”
“You ought to go hunting with me.”
“Hunting? I don’t hunt. How can you kill innocent birds or deer or anything?”
“I can’t. Not anymore. I stopped shooting animals with a gun a few years ago. Now I go up in the hills, hunt animals and shoot them with my camera. If I’m lucky enough to find them. It’s an even bigger challenge than shooting them with a gun. And I sleep better at night.
“Yeah,” he continued. “I had everything ready this morning, food, sleeping bags, a cooler, and my buddy backed out. So I thought...” He took a bite of his sandwich, trying to formulate a casual invitation. Trying to make it sound like it didn’t matter if she came or not. But it did. It mattered. Much too much.
“You thought I’d fill in?” she asked indignantly, her hazel eyes blazing. “You ought to know by now that women don’t like being second choice.”
He almost choked on his bread. Her words brought all the recriminations and his wife’s accusations flooding back.
I’m second choice. Your job comes first. You
don’t love me
. “Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you,” he said. “Never mind, forget what I said.”
Suzy gave him a puzzled look, and for a moment he saw some emotion in her eyes he couldn’t define. She was probably thinking he was crazy to drop the subject so fast. But before he could assure her he didn’t need anybody to go with him, that he liked being alone in the high desert with only his camera for company, she went to wait on someone else.
He finished his lunch, left an outrageous tip and marched out of the diner. Somebody from the diner would deliver the prisoner’s food that night, and with any luck, they’d send Suzy. He’d lined up Hal to man the office Saturday and Sunday and that way he could go off and forget about his job for a change. Forget about everything and everybody. Especially Suzy.
It was Suzy who came to the door at precisely five o’clock with a box filled with food. He stood up so fast he jammed his knee into the side of the desk. His heart drummed out a warning. It doesn’t mean anything. She didn’t come to see him. It’s just part of her job. He turned off his computer and took the box out of her arms.
“Here you are,” she said and turned quickly as if she couldn’t wait to get out of there. As if she didn’t remember the times they stood around talking about nothing or everything, forgetting the hour. As if she didn’t miss it as much as he did.
“In a hurry?” he asked, unable to keep the caustic tone out of his voice. “Don’t you want to say hello to your friend out there?” He pointed to the small jail house out of the window. “No, never mind. You go home and soak your feet, watch your video, read your book.”
“Thanks, that’s just what I will do,” she said. But instead of marching out the door, she hesitated. He willed her to turn around. To stop and talk. Just for a minute. He couldn’t believe how much he missed having her around eight hours a day. When did he discover that she’d left a hole in his life he couldn’t fill?
“Ever find that picture?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.
“Sony. No.”
“Oh. Well, there’s another box in the car with the drinks in it.”
“I’ll get it.”
When he came back she was standing in front of his desk watching him with a strange look in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said but there were bright pink spots staining her cheeks. Something happened while he was out at the car. He didn’t know what. “I’ll help you carry the stuff back to the jail,” she said.
“So you do want to say hello to Bart,” he said.
“I just want to finish this job and go home and rest,” she said firmly.
Brady strapped his holster to his belt and picked up the box with the food. Suzy followed with the drinks, and they walked out to the small cinderblock building behind the office. Brady shifted the box to his shoulder, unlocked the door, walked down the narrow hall, then unlocked the door to the cell.
“Sheriff,” Bart said pleasantly. “Good to see you. You too, Miss Suzy.”
“Here’s your dinner, Bart,” Brady said, dumping both the boxes on the floor of the small cell..“My deputy will be by tomorrow and Sunday to check on you
and bring in your food. On Monday you’ll be transferred.”
“Too bad. I’m just getting used to your jail here.” He tore open a corner of the box and sniffed appreciatively. “Good food, too,” he said, reaching his hand inside. “If I’d known about this, I would have headed for Harmony years ago.”
“Hey,” Brady said. “You eat it all now, you won’t have any left for later. It’s gonna be a long evening.” Brady swung his keys, keeping one hand on his holster, just in case.
“There’s even a piece of lemon meringue pie,” Suzy said, peeking into the other box. Then before she knew what was happening Bart lunged at her and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her to him. He squeezed her so tightly he forced the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t speak. But Bart could.
“Gimme the keys, sheriff,” he said.
Brady fingered the gun.
“See this knife?” Bart said, waving a kitchen knife. Very carefully he traced the blade along Suzy’s tbroat.

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