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The Sheriff's Son
Barbara White Daille
Why Is Tanner Jones Back In Town?Seven-year-old Kevin has been a handful for single mom Sarah Lindstrom, and when the new sheriff walks through her door holding her son by the scruff of his neck for egging his car, she knows she's lost control. But can she control herself–and keep the secret she's kept for so many years?Tanner Jones has no idea Kevin is his son–he lost the right to that information when he abandoned Sarah soon after graduation. Just because he's back in town doesn't mean he can waltz into her life–and Kevin's–to pick up where they left off. But Sarah can't deny the feelings she still harbors for Tanner, and can't deny how her son is benefiting from his attentions.When Tanner finds out the truth, what is he going to do?



“I’ll cut right to the chase, Sarah. Let’s get married.”
After a long struggle she managed to find her voice, but could only sputter a shocked “Wh-what?”
“Just what I said.” Tanner rested an elbow on the railing and peered down at her. “We’d planned to all along, right? But life got in the way. Now things have settled down again—we’ve settled down. It only makes sense.”
Sarah cleared her throat and tried to speak again. “What about Kevin?”
“What about him?”
“You would adopt him?”
“Sarah, I’m willing enough to take care of you and Kevin. You know that. Stepfather, yeah, that I’ll agree to. But that’s it. I don’t want to adopt the boy.”
Tears stung her eyes, and a coldness settled inside her. “The offer’s tempting, Tanner. But you walked away from me once and I can’t take the chance you might do it again. So my answer is no. I won’t marry you.”
Dear Reader,
If you’re at all like me, you love being swept into a good book, where you can leave your cares behind—and get involved in someone else’s troubles for a change! Where you can learn how the characters handle life’s ups and downs. And, best of all, where you can watch them struggle against their feelings…until they finally admit their love and realize they’ve come home.
Again, if you’re like me, you’ve sometimes made mistakes in your life and watched them grow all out of proportion. That happened with Sarah and Tanner, whose story you’re holding right now. It took them years to find out—Well, I’ll let them reveal their tale in the following pages. Here, I’ll share my story with you….
Since the age of nine I’ve dreamed of telling stories of my own—and now I’m beyond thrilled that my first two books will be in print this year. Thanks for joining me in this adventure! As we take our first steps together, I hope you enjoy The Sheriff’s Son. And watch for Court Me, Cowboy, coming to you in November.
I love to hear from readers. You can reach me at P.O. Box 504, Gilbert, AZ 85299 or through my Web site, www.barbarawhitedaille.com.
All my best to you!
Until we meet again,
Barbara White Daille
The Sheriff’s Son
Barbara White Daille


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When she was very young, Barbara White Daille learned from her mom about the storytelling magic in books—and she’s been hooked ever since. Now thrilled to be an author herself, she hopes you will enjoy reading her books and will find your own magic in them! Originally from the East Coast, Barbara lives with her husband in the warm, sunny Southwest, where they love the dry heat and have taken up square-dancing.
This book is lovingly dedicated to Elizabeth Gallagher who started it all and to Rich who helps keep it going
Many thanks to a very special editor Kathleen Scheibling

Contents
Chapter One (#u700b6c83-02f7-5ce3-8ee4-69c90ab75bbf)
Chapter Two (#u1e18e1b6-dfa7-5396-a24d-faf160371b83)
Chapter Three (#u8a5d2bf6-73e1-518f-873b-ee59b5d0e7ae)
Chapter Four (#u26177014-61eb-52b1-9a37-c7ac4eebda6b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One
The eeny-meeny-miney-mo approach to paying bills wouldn’t keep creditors from her door much longer.
Sarah Lindstrom sighed, planted her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands.
What she wouldn’t do for some matches or a fireplace. But the only bookstore in Dillon, Texas, wasn’t the place to find either of those things, even if she were dumb enough to resort to drastic measures. Burning the bills would only add to her problems, not solve them.
If one more straw would snap the camel’s back, as Daddy used to say, then one more debt, one more unplanned doctor visit, one more call from Kevin’s school ought to bring down a whole herd of cattle.
The thought of her son made her sigh again. It was only a few weeks into the new school year, and in that short time, he’d given her more grief than in all seven years of his life combined.
At the sound of the bell over the door, she glanced at the clock. The Bookies had arrived a bit early.
She smoothed the loose curls escaping from her braid, ran a hand over the front of her dress and smiled. Nowadays, besides reading, her only form of entertainment came from The Book Cellar’s novel discussion group, an assortment of local women ranging from former schoolteachers to ranch wives to several of her own stay-at-home-mom friends.
Halfway through the office doorway into the large, overflowing bookstore, she froze. Her mouth hung open, the greeting she’d intended to call out shriveling on her tongue, sliding back down her throat, curdling in her stomach.
Her “one more straw” had arrived.
Instead of the group of women she’d expected to see, a man stood at the front of the store, framed between a pair of ceiling-height bookcases.
Tanner Jones seemed to fill her vision, standing taller and more broad-shouldered than she ever remembered, but looking, unfortunately, all too familiar. Except for the deputy sheriff’s badge decorating his chest, and the gun resting on his hip.
A frown rumpled his brow and his hand gripped the back of a bright blue T-shirt, pulling up with just enough pressure to keep the boy inside the shirt dancing on tiptoe.
A single mother’s worst nightmare. Doubled.
The son she never wanted to see in trouble.
The man she’d once loved. Once lost. And never wanted to see again.
“Mom! I—”
“Hold it, son,” Tanner broke in.
Her stomach dropped. His voice had deepened with the years, but his once well-loved drawl triggered a fully illustrated volume of unwanted memories.
Sarah focused instead on Kevin, whose yelp revealed much more than his missing front tooth. What had he done? And why did Tanner have to be the one to catch him?
Half of her wanted to scream at Tanner to let her son go; the other half wanted to behave like a calm, rational human being who understood the importance of law and order.
Well, she’d never been rational around Tanner before.
“Put him down this instant.”
He laughed. “C’mon, Sarah, I outgrew that tone in grade school with Mrs. G.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you ought to hear what happened first?”
“No. First, I think you ought to unhand my son.” Her voice wobbled. She took a deep breath. She had to be strong for Kevin. They had no one else but each other. “Let him go, then we’ll talk.”
To her relief, Tanner shrugged and released his hold on the T-shirt. Kevin’s heels dropped to the floor.
“Mom!” He rushed across the room to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face against her.
“It’s all right.” She kept a reassuring arm around him but shifted him to her side so they could face the enemy together.
Normally, she had a healthy respect for the law. But this was Tanner Jones, and that made all the difference. “What happened, Kevin?”
Tanner whipped a leather-covered notebook out of his pocket. As he started toward them, her son trembled against her.
“Nothing happened, Mom!”
Tanner snorted. “You call defacing a sheriff’s car nothing?”
“Oh, Kevin. You didn’t.”
The bell over the front door rang again, and Kevin’s friend Billy poked his head into the room. “Hey, Kev, what happened to ya? The bus is late and Mom told Gary he had to drive us to school and he’s yelling to hurry up.”
Kevin slipped from her encircling arm and looked at her with pleading eyes.
She nodded. “You go to school, and I’ll speak with Deputy Jones. Be prepared, though. We’ll talk about this when you get home.”
“Wait a minute—” Tanner began.
Her son bolted, sneakers pounding across the wooden floor, down a side aisle and through the front door, which he slammed shut behind him.
The bell jangled so hard, she thought it might fly off and break a window.
“Damn, the kid’s fast,” Tanner muttered.
Fast and long gone—while she stood there, trapped.
Kevin had done plenty to concern her lately, from smart-mouthing her and his teachers to acting the clown in class. He would face the consequences eventually. She would have to face her consequences right now.
Tanner started down the center aisle toward her. She had no plan, but instinct knew what she needed. Distance and a sturdy barrier. Immediately.
Sidestepping, she put the long, waist-high counter between them. With shaking fingers, she straightened the pile of bookmarks near the cash register. Wishing for a more time-consuming chore, she glanced around the store, through the windows, everywhere but at Tanner.
Where were the Bookies when she needed them?
Reluctantly, she looked back to find Tanner standing across from her. Sunlight glinted off the badge pinned to his shirtfront, threw golden highlights into his sandy-colored hair. He’d been blonder back in their school days. Butterscotch, she’d tease, tug on a handful, then run away. But he’d always catch her.
Today, he’d caught Kevin.
She leaned against the shelves lining the wall behind her, bracing herself.
“What are you thinking, Sarah, letting your boy run off like that? Don’t you even want to know what he did?”
“Of course, I do. But first, I want to know what you’re doing here. Why did you come back to Dillon?”
“What’s this look like?” He tapped a finger against his badge. “I’m Deputy Sheriff in this great state of Texas, sent to guard the good folks of Dillon.”
She took a closer look. “You’re County?”
He nodded.
At least he wouldn’t have an office in town. She’d grasp at any spilled straw, though Daddy would’ve told her you can’t fix the camel’s back once it’s snapped.
“I still don’t understand why you’re here. What happened to Deputy Worth?”
He frowned. “Worth’s out on sick leave, so I’m assigned to Dillon for the present. And judging by your boy’s activity this morning, I’ll have plenty to keep me busy.”
“For heaven’s sake, Tanner. He’s only a child. What kind of damage could he have done to your car? Surely not enough to make you so ready to lynch him?”
All right, even she could recognize an overreaction when she heard one. But Tanner had always driven her to extremes. Had made her do things she wouldn’t ordinarily consider—
No time for those thoughts now. Or ever.
She had her child to worry about.
“Lynching?” He laughed, loud and full-throated, tipping his head back, exposing the long lean column of his neck. “I just wanted to give him a scare, make him think twice before he goes off and does something else he shouldn’t.”
“Just what did he do?”
“Took it upon himself to decorate my car.”
Her heart sank. She sneaked another glance at Tanner. He didn’t look nearly as fierce as he had when he’d first come into the store, Kevin dangling from his fingertips. With any luck, she’d get by with a written warning, instead of a ticket she couldn’t hope to pay. If her son was guilty of the damage.
“You know for a fact it was Kevin?”
“Caught him egg-handed.”
“Eggs?” She sagged in relief. “Is that all?”
“You know what dried egg does to a paint job?” He flipped open his notebook. “‘Kevin Lindstrom,’” he read aloud. “Age?”
“Under eighteen,” she snapped. “That makes him a minor.” Low down in her stomach, a small tremor of guilt and fear began to build. “W-why do you want to know?”
His eyes focused on her, and her legs threatened to buckle. She knew what Kevin must have felt like, without solid footing beneath him.
“I’m going to keep an eye on that child.”
“He’s my responsibility, thank you.”
He snorted. “And a great job you’re doing, too, aren’t you? Can’t even control your own son.”
“How dare you!”
“I’m a deputy sheriff, that’s how. Seems to me your boy’s a bit high-strung and looking for some attention.”
“He’s a typical child,” she shot back.
“Trouble waiting to happen. Where was he supposed to be when he was egging my County vehicle?”
“Waiting for the bus at a friend’s house.”
“With no one to watch over him?”
“His friend’s mother keeps an eye on both boys.” What did he think, she let her son run wild? “You heard Billy. If his brother had to drive them to school, something must have happened to the bus.”
She would find out what—later. Her affairs were none of Tanner’s business. Not anymore.
“I’ll give you the price of a car wash and make sure Kevin knows what he did was wrong. Let it rest with that.”
“Can’t. Pranks can lead to worse things. We sure don’t want Dillon overrun by hooligans.”
“I agree with you there. But egging a car is childish mischief, Tanner.” Ticket be darned. She’d take on a mountain of debt before she’d let her son be railroaded by a deputy carrying a grudge along with his gun. “Are you calling my son a hooligan?”
The very idea of this man doing Kevin an injustice set fire to her maternal instincts, and she raised her hands in frustration.
Instantly, Tanner reached out to curl his sturdy fingers around her wrists, and another basic instinct competed with the first, turning her insides all warm and mushy.
Somehow, she kept her wits about her enough to notice his barely concealed anger. To observe his admirable restraint as he placed her palms down flat on the countertop. To realize she might have edged her toes over the line between getting a ticket and getting carted off to jail.
“Simmer down. I wasn’t referring to Kevin. But—”
“And you’ve done lots worse than egging a car yourself, Tanner Jones, or don’t you remember?”
Suddenly, all signs of his anger disappeared, leaving her wondering if it had only come from her imagination. He smiled down at her with those sea-blue eyes she’d so loved.
He leaned closer, jerking her from her thoughts and bringing those eyes…his face…his lips on a level with hers. “I remember a lot of things, Sarah.”
If she thought his tone gave special meaning to the statement, his next words left no doubt.
“I remember how it was having a conversation with you, instead of arguing, like we are now.”
“That was before you left Dillon—and everyone in it—behind.” She lifted her chin. No tears. No trembling. “I’d call that a real conversation stopper.”
A flush began at his neck, crept up his smooth-shaven jaw, stained his lightly tanned cheeks.
“Dammit, Sarah, I told you my reasons the night of graduation, after we…” He stumbled to a halt, the words dying on his lips.
The way she had died inside when he left her.
Her eyes hurt from the effort to keep her gaze locked with his, to stop him from reading the thoughts her face would plainly show.
“Listen,” he continued, “I’d told you my plans. You’re the one who wouldn’t talk to me after that.”
“After that,” she echoed in a frosty tone, “I had nothing to say to you.”
“Yeah, and after that, you ran off and got married.” He took another deep breath. “We’re grownups now, Sarah. Why don’t we put all this behind us and go on?”
“I have.”
“Sure. That’s why you—”
The front door opened, and his protest disappeared beneath a wave of familiar female voices. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care to hear whatever he’d planned to say.
“You’ll have to excuse me.” Her cold, polite tone came without effort. “The Bookies are here.”
His jaw dropped. “What the—? Bookmaking’s illegal.”
She forced a laugh. “You’re trying too hard to find criminal activity in Dillon, Tanner—you’re not planning to arrest Mrs. Gannett for studying popular literature, are you?”
As she edged between him and the adjacent bookcase, he turned, catching her off guard. His body brushed lightly against hers.
Somehow, from somewhere, she found the strength to push past him and flee toward the front of the store.

Chapter Two
In the distance, female voices buzzed like static from the County car’s radio.
Tanner tuned them out. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the notebook into his pocket. His muttered curse would’ve earned him a week’s detention from Mrs. G.
Where had this stubbornness of Sarah’s come from?
For that matter, what had gotten into him, cracking down so hard on her and the boy? Much as he hated to admit it, he knew: the first sight of Sarah had unsettled him.
Turning on his heel, he put his back to the chattering ladies. He could see into her small office, as cluttered as the bookstore.
A two-drawer filing cabinet sat in one corner, books and catalogs spilled across the top. A bulletin board held a haphazard collection of crayoned pictures. Then there was the desk. Neat and clean as a rookie’s uniform the morning of inspection, with papers marching in parade format along the surface. As different from the cluttered bookstore as it could be.
Somehow, the military precision gave him an uneasy feeling.
“Tanner Jones!”
At the sound of his former schoolteacher’s unmistakable voice, he cringed, just like in the old days when she’d caught him shooting spitballs.
Sarah had a point about his schoolboy shenanigans.
But he wasn’t a kid anymore. And the teacher wasn’t scolding him now. He turned around.
“Morning, ladies.” He made his way forward, tipped his Stetson to all, and wrapped his former teacher in a bear hug.
“Hey, Mrs. G.” He drawled the nickname all the boys used for her, though not to her face—not till they’d grown up. She had a real passion for formality in the classroom.
He stepped back again and surveyed the women. “I’m surprised at y’all,” he said, straight-faced. “What’s this I hear about you being involved in illegal bookmaking?”
Everyone laughed. Except Sarah.
“Book discussion, not making, Tanner,” Mrs. G said in her lecturing tone. “Isn’t that right, Sarah?”
“That’s right.”
“But,” the older woman continued, “we were just discussing a different subject. Your sheriff’s car. We saw it outside. It looks a little worse for wear.”
“Sure does.” He looked at Sarah. She stared back, lifting her chin. No sense bringing her boy’s troubles out in the open. Yet.
“But you, Tanner Jones—” Mrs. G held him at arm’s length, inspected him up and down “—you’re a sight for sore eyes, you are.”
He wanted to dig his toe in the dirt. Another flashback to the old days.
“So, you’re with the Sheriff’s Department. That’s good to hear. With Deputy Worth still recuperating from his hernia operation, he’s let things slide a bit. We could use your assistance with a few items.”
“Such as…?”
“Oh, you’ll find out.” Behind her glasses, her eyes gleamed. “We’ll meet this evening at Town Hall,” she said firmly, already in organizational mode. He’d had a Staff Sergeant like her once, in his early years in the army. “You’re available, Tanner?”
“If Sarah’s bringing her pecan loaf, I am,” he blurted. To his own surprise.
The women all turned to him. He shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, y’all know it’s her specialty.”
His mouth watered at the very thought of it. In high school, he’d lived for his Saturday night movie dates with Sarah, their slow walks home afterward, and a slice or three of her pecan loaf to top off the evening.
Everyone nodded and smiled, except the woman of the hour.
“Mrs. Gannett,” Sarah said.
All eyes swiveled in her direction.
“Ah…we wouldn’t want an outsider in on a private meeting, would we?”
He glared. “If it’s something Worth should’ve handled, I’ll be there. Count on it. Pecan loaf or no.”
“Tanner’s right, dear,” Mrs. G said gently. “And besides, he’s not an outsider, he’s one of our own.”
The ladies all beamed at him.
“Now, Sarah,” Mrs. G continued, turning toward her again, “we can count on you, too, can’t we?”
A red flush started from the neck of Sarah’s flower-print dress and spread up to her pale cheeks. “Oh—”
“She’ll show up, Mrs. G.” He shifted, adjusting the belt on his hips. “Sarah’s got a strong interest in what’s happening around this town.”
Over the women’s heads, he stared at her. She glared back, her flashing green eyes seeming to wish him off the face of the earth.
SARAH MARCHED INTO Town Hall with her head held high, a tight smile plastered on her lips, and a platter of warm pecan loaf clutched in her shaking fingers.
After closing the store, she’d just had time enough to run upstairs to make the loaves. Not to please Tanner, of course, but because everyone would expect her to bring them.
She wouldn’t do anything to please that man.
And she’d had to come here tonight. She didn’t trust him not to exaggerate the severity of Kevin’s childish deed.
The object of her wrath stood beside Mrs. Gannett, a good foot-and-a-half taller than the older woman and decked out in all his deputy glory.
Averting her gaze, she headed toward the cloth-covered tables in the rear of the room.
“Hi, Miss Sarah.” One of Kevin’s friends stopped directly in her path. “Where’s Kevin?”
“He’s not allowed out tonight.” She’d left him under the watchful eye of Billy’s mother, with a list of dos—homework—and don’ts—television. She didn’t dare bring him to the meeting. Didn’t want him anywhere near Tanner.
She had enough to worry her. An entire list…
Kevin, the center of her life, who had defaced a car—and a sheriff’s car, at that. The bills that flowed into her mailbox, threatening to drown her. And the beloved bookstore she might soon lose if she didn’t find a way out of her money troubles.
She didn’t need all this added hoopla of a town meeting.
As she set the foil-wrapped platter on the table, she felt someone move in close beside her. A long arm reached around her, and a huge hand plucked at the foil. She shoved the arm aside.
“That’s for later.”
“Aw, c’mon.”
Tanner’s teasing tone sounded so like Kevin’s, she nearly expected to find her son beside her.
“Just a quick look to see if it’s what I’m thinking.” He pulled the foil aside. “Mm-mmm.”
The husky murmur threatened to undo her.
“Great deductive skills, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “You knew you’d find pecan loaf, Tanner. I always brought it everywhere.” She took as much pride in the light response she’d managed as she ever had in her baking.
“Where’s that boy of yours tonight? Leave him home with his daddy?”
“I don’t have a husband,” she said, hoping her terse tone would close the subject. She should’ve known better.
“You’re raising the boy yourself?”
“Yes, I am. Though it’s no business of yours.”
From the front of the room came the pounding of a gavel.
She edged away. “Sounds like Doc’s ready to start. I’ll see you.”
Forcing herself to walk slowly, she headed for the front of the room. She nodded to Charlie Kemper, one of the local ranchers, before taking a first-row seat in front of him. Deliberately, she’d chosen a chair near the wall, as far from Tanner’s sharp gaze as she could get. Yet she could feel the same prickly sensation that used to come over her in class, from grade school right through senior year.
It meant Tanner was watching her.
Beneath the prickliness, she shivered. He’d always seen too much, read her too well, understood too clearly what she was feeling.
Except for that one heart-wrenching night when he didn’t understand anything at all.
At the front of the room, Doc Thompson banged his gavel again. “All right, now, let’s call this meeting to order.”
Gradually the noise in the room faded away, except for the calming hum of the overhead fan.
Then she heard the slap of boots on bare wooden flooring, the rattling of metal, the squeaking of leather. Afraid to turn her head, she looked from the corner of her eye. And saw Tanner sauntering along the front row toward her.
Around her, excited whispering drowned out everything but the rushing of her blood in her ears. Everyone in town knew her and Tanner’s history.
Or most of it, anyway.
When he took the empty seat beside her, she stiffened and ground her teeth together. The gall of the man, when she’d made it plain she didn’t want to sit with him.
“Hey, Tanner, welcome back.” From the row behind them, Charlie Kemper leaned forward.
In the process of shaking Charlie’s hand, Tanner grazed the bare skin of her arm. His touch seemed accidental—harmless?—but that didn’t stop her from choking on her sudden indrawn breath.
“Hey, you okay?”
Full of concern, Tanner turned to her and placed a huge hand on either of her arms. She could have cried.
He had always held her just that way when he meant to kiss her. Years of conditioning sent her eyelids fluttering downward. She caught herself and jerked them open. Pulled herself out of his reach. Those days of sweet kisses had ended long ago.
“I’m fine,” she gasped.
“Sarah,” Doc Thompson called from the front table, “are you needing my services over there?”
She shook her head and coughed. “No, thanks, Doc.”
Shifting in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks burned.
Tanner’s blue eyes twinkled. Those sea-blue eyes, very like Kevin’s. With Tanner’s so-called deductive ability, how could he have missed noticing the similarity this morning?
What would he do when he finally made the connection? When he finally uncovered the secret she’d spent so many years hiding?
“All right, then,” Doc announced, “we’ve got Deputy Jones here with us, so let’s get this meeting started. The floor’s open for comment,” Doc said. “Who’s first?”
“Me.” Jeb Carter, small and bowlegged in his faded overalls, began shuffling to the front of the room. “I’m concerned about crime in Dillon. I’ve had things turn up missing around my place, like the end of a roll of twine or an empty bushel basket.”
“Can’t blame that on anybody, Jeb,” someone from the audience yelled out. “Not remembering where you put things—shoot, that’s old age.”
Several people laughed.
“I remember well enough,” he argued. “And someone’s leaving pop bottles all over my yard, too. And I don’t drink pop.”
“I think he’s on to something.” Behind them, Charlie Kemper rose. “The hubcaps from my Chevy disappeared.”
“That old car of yours doesn’t run, anyway, Charlie,” the heckler called.
“That don’t make a difference,” Jeb Carter retorted.
“He’s right,” a woman yelled.
And suddenly voices were raised, drowning out Doc’s every effort to calm them. Sarah listened in amazement. She hadn’t known about any of this. While she’d stayed in her beloved bookstore, wrapped up in her own problems, a string of crimes seemed to have plagued Dillon in recent weeks.
Petty, that was the main thing. Nothing they couldn’t handle—and quick.
Because the sooner she and the rest of the towns-folk took care of their troubles, the sooner Deputy Sheriff Tanner Jones could return to his County post.
And the sooner he would be gone from her life.
Again.
THE FOLKS OF Dillon hadn’t changed a bit—any excuse for a potluck. And people had turned out in force tonight.
For a while there, Tanner thought he’d have a revolt on his hands. It had taken some effort to get everyone settled back in their seats, though raised voices still filled the room. Sarah looked shell-shocked.
He turned away. Best to think of her later and, for now, to keep his mind on this meeting.
At the front table, Mrs. G had moved to sit in the empty chair beside Doc Thompson.
He walked to the center of the room. “It sounds as if a petty crime wave is plaguing Dillon. I’ll be looking into this, but I may need some assistance from all of you.”
Doc nodded agreement.
“You’re absolutely right.” Mrs. G stood. “All right, folks,” she announced in her schoolteacher tone. Tanner swallowed his grin. He should’ve let her handle crowd control. “Deputy Jones has offered to help, but he can’t do it all alone. What do you say to a citizen’s watch?”
“I’m game,” Charlie Kemper volunteered.
“Count me in,” someone else added.
“Sounds good, Mrs. G.” Tanner thought a minute. “I’ll be happy to run the committee, Doc, if you’ll co-chair it with me. We need a civilian in charge, too.”
Doc patted his ample stomach and smiled. “Why, sur—”
“Doc’s much too busy,” Mrs. G cut in.
Tanner kept tight hold of his surprise. Interrupt someone in her class way back when, and you’d have gotten your mouth scoured out. “Then, maybe Char—”
“We need someone with a level head.”
Tanner’s jaw dropped when Mrs. G broke in a second time.
“We need someone unbiased,” she continued thoughtfully. “Someone like…Sarah.”
He turned to face her. Sarah raised her chin and stared him down.
A number of loud voices rose in support of her.
He nearly snorted. Unbiased, hell, with her son already caught egg-handed and who knew what else he’d been up to?
“The co-chairs would have to work very closely together,” Mrs. G said from behind him, just under cover of the noise.
He peered at her from over his shoulder. She sat giving him that same wide-eyed, encouraging expression she’d turn his way during the annual school spelling bee. Now, as it always did back then, her look made him put his mind to work.
Co-chairing the committee with Sarah would give him open invitation into her bookstore. And into her life. That way, he’d make sure to keep an eye on that wayward child of hers.
And the other eye on Sarah—not a half-bad idea, seeing as she was on her own again.
He’d given up a lot of things when he’d left Dillon, all those years ago, and not only Sarah’s pecan loaf. But now he was back and ready to find out just what he’d missed.
“Sounds like a fine plan to me.” He grinned. “You agreeable, Sarah?”
Seemed like the whole of Dillon gave up breathing while she thought it over.
After a long while, she stood up and walked to the center of the room to stand in front of Doc.
“I’m willing,” she announced.
“Good.” Maybe she’d finally come to her senses and admitted she needed his help. He shifted his shoulders and stood just a shade taller in his uniform.
Doc slid a clipboard across the table.
Sarah reached for it and held it up high. “Okay, we’ll get a sign-up sheet going here, folks. Anyone who wants to take part in the watch, put your name down, and we’ll get started organizing people into groups tonight.”
“What about eating?” Charlie called, getting a round of laughs.
“Refreshments first,” Tanner replied. “Then whoever’s not planning to sign up for watch can leave.”
Doc rubbed his hands together. “Let’s hit those desserts.”
He and Mrs. G fell into step behind the townsfolk swarming toward the back of the room, leaving him alone with Sarah.
She started away from him, too.
He reached out for her.
She froze and stared at him, so close he could see a tiny nerve flicker in one cheek. So still he could feel a pounding pulse in her wrist.
He scanned her from head to toe. Her eyes, calm and green; her long, uptight braid; her tall, slim but curvy body, dressed in the same flower-print dress she’d worn that afternoon.
Imagination took over and he saw those eyes flashing, that braid loosened, that dress a pile of petals on the floor.
As if she read something in him, she pulled her arm away and stepped back. “We’d best get along to the refreshment table, or you’ll miss out.”
“Nah.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like I’ll be around awhile. You can make me a pecan loaf all to myself.”
“And you can make an appointment with Doc right now. To get some medicine for your delusions.”
Illusions, more likely.
He grinned. “Can’t deny it, Sarah, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Only until we figure out what’s going on around town.” Her eyes flashed for real this time. “So don’t go getting any ideas, Deputy.”

Chapter Three
Two days later, with a heavy heart, Sarah looked around the store and thought about the childhood she’d spent there.
She could barely remember her mother, who had died when she was four years old. From then on, only she and Daddy rattled around in the three-story house with the big backyard.
As a child, she had loved having all the books she could ever want just downstairs in her very own home. It wasn’t till much, much later, when she’d started working in the store with Daddy, that she learned the price of all that convenience. Taxes. Utilities. Upkeep. And a business that usually lost more money than it earned.
Right now, the accounting books glowed in neon-red. She would be ashamed to show them to Delia, the owner of Dillon’s one and only restaurant, who had taught her how to balance the accounts after Daddy died.
Daddy would never give up the house or the store—and neither would she. She’d never wanted to work anywhere but here.
She turned back to the notes she’d jotted on the legal pad in front of her, the rough outline of ways to earn extra money. Maybe not enough to pay off all her bills, but any lightening of her load would help. The first idea she’d come up with, she owed to Tanner Jones and his devotion to her pecan loaf.
And speak of the devil—she looked out the window to see the County Sheriff’s sedan glide to a stop in front of The Book Cellar. She’d had a reprieve from Tanner the day before, but that had just ended.
She slid the notepad onto the shelf beneath the cash register. Wiping her palms on her skirt, she glanced at the wall clock. Kevin’s school bus would drop him off shortly.
The last thing she wanted was for Tanner to be in the same room as her son. She prayed Kevin would come into the store and head directly to the stairs leading up to their kitchen instead of charging into the store like he usually did. But surely he would see the sheriff’s car outside and would know enough to avoid Tanner. Or maybe not.
She would have to get rid of him.
For a moment, his broad outline blocked the light from the front window, and a cool shadow seemed to fall over her. How could that happen, when he hadn’t yet entered the store?
He shoved the door open. The bell tinkled. She wrapped her arms around herself for reassurance.
She could handle this situation. She had to.
“Afternoon, Sarah.”
She nodded. Even before he removed his mirror-shaded sunglasses, she could feel his gaze on her. When her hands shook, she both feared and welcomed the reaction. Feared it for showing, no matter what he’d done, she hadn’t gotten over him. Welcomed it because, like the jingling bell, it gave her a warning.
She slipped a clipboard out from beside her notepad. She’d hurry this meeting along.
Between them, she and Tanner had set up the neighborhood watch. In pairs, people walked through town or drove past the outlying ranches. So far, though, they hadn’t seen anyone involved in suspicious activity.
She forced herself to meet Tanner’s eyes. “Not a thing new to report, Deputy. We’ve got our groups set up for tonight and tomorrow.”
“Enthusiasm staying pretty high?” He leaned close. Too close. Above the well-loved scents of paper and leather bindings that permeated the store, she caught a whiff of his aftershave.
Easing backward, she shrugged. “Things have quieted, but the teams are still out doing their jobs. And you?”
“Doing my job, you mean? Trying to, at least.” He grinned.
She looked down, made an unnecessary checkmark next to an imaginary item. Tried to keep her mind on her own duties. “Have you found out who’s behind all these pranks?”
“In two days? No. But I’ll start making rounds in the County car at night.”
“If you’re taking on extra duties yourself, I’ll do the same.” It was the least a co-chair could do.
“We can make up a team.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He leaned forward, giving her another look at his devilish grin. “Aw, c’mon, Sarah. Be like old times, when we’d cruise around in that old clunker I had.”
They had spent more than a few of their nights riding alone in the dark, intimate closeness of the front seat of his car. She glared at him.
The gall of the man yet again, same as on the night of the Town Hall meeting. Insinuating himself where he wasn’t wanted, using that same teasing tone. Acting as if they could regain what they’d had between them years ago.
“That won’t work, Tanner. We’re not teenagers anymore.” She clutched her clipboard harder. “I can’t patrol after dark, anyway. I need to be home in the evenings for Kevin.”
As if the mention of her son’s name had summoned him, the front door swung open. Tensing, she glanced past Tanner, then sagged in relief.
Jerry, the mail carrier, came down the center aisle of the store juggling a couple large packing boxes. An envelope rested precariously on top. Her heart sank as she spied the return receipt card attached to it. Another creditor, wanting to make sure she received her overdue bills.
“Afternoon, Sarah. Not a bad haul, today.”
In his opinion, maybe.
Jerry set the boxes on the counter. The envelope slid off to land on the floor at Tanner’s feet. “’Scuse me, Deputy.”
“No problem.” Tanner bent and picked up the offending piece of mail. He frowned down at it, then handed it to Sarah.
She scribbled her signature, ripped off the receipt, and returned it to Jerry, who nodded his thanks and left.
“Let me set these boxes back in my office,” she told Tanner, “and we can go over the roster for the watch teams.”
“Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
Before she could protest, he lifted the packing boxes as though they weighed no more than the envelope. She hurried into her office, not wanting to be trapped in the narrow aisle with him.
Her tiny back room gave her no better space. With the added height of his high-crowned Stetson and the heels of his dress boots, Tanner seemed tall enough to brush the ceiling. Broad enough to fill the room. Alive and healthy and strong enough to require all the air in the vicinity.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Just set them on the pile beside the filing cabinet.” She looked toward the desk, intending to place the envelope there, and cringed when she saw the bills she’d left lined up, with their incriminating red stamps marked Overdue. One little shift sideways, one turn of his head, and Tanner would see them, too.
As he leaned over to put the boxes down, she hurried past him to the desk.
“That’s some son you’ve got, Sarah.”
The words stopped her in her tracks. After a long moment, she turned and faced him, her body blocking the desktop. “What do you mean?”
He nodded toward the bulletin board. “Drawings up there, looking good. He shows more talent with a couple of crayons than we ever managed to do in Art. He take after his dad?”
The blood rushed from Sarah’s head. Her face felt chilled, her mouth frozen. She didn’t want to answer Tanner. Couldn’t. But he stood looking at her, waiting for an answer.
“No, his father doesn’t have any artistic skill, either.” It wasn’t a lie. Tanner had just made that clear. Still, the half truth seemed to twist in her heart.
He stepped closer. “I say something wrong?” He reached up, as if to stroke the stray curls that tumbled against her temple.
Time stopped. Turned back. Raced away.
She stood, held in place by the look in Tanner’s eyes.
His hand hovered near her head, a breath away from touching her, until he clenched his fingers and lowered his arm to his side.
She whirled to face the desk, scooped the row of bills into an untidy pile and flipped it over. Hands shaking, she struggled to line up the edges of the papers.
The crazy thought occurred to her that she should tell him everything right now. Reveal her money troubles. Confess the truth about Kevin.
And request eight years’ worth of child support.
But of course she wouldn’t. She didn’t want anything from Tanner. Except his rapid departure from her life.
Behind her, he cleared his throat once, twice.
She sighed inwardly. Sooner or later, she’d have to meet his eyes again. Slowly, she turned. To her relief, he had backed a step away.
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his back pockets—in another attempt to keep from reaching for her?
“If I stuck my foot in it just now, that’s because I’m feeling out of touch with you. So to speak.” He cleared his throat again. “I mean, nobody’s said much to me about you. You haven’t said much about yourself. Me, either, if it comes down to it. Guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Not if she could help it.
“So, what happened to your husband, Sarah? Where is he now? What’s he doing?”
He asked the questions so casually, each one causing her a twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.
Would she ever be?
She swallowed hard. “That’s really none of your business.”
“It was, once. You were my girl, Sarah. Nothing was going to change that.”
“Then you walked away. Left town. Joined the army. What did you expect, that I would just sit home and wait for you?”
She hadn’t expected Tanner to leave her. Or Daddy to die. Or herself having to do…anything that had come afterward.
“Don’t know what I thought.”
“Well, I—” The familiar squeal of brakes outside choked off her words. The school bus.
At the sound, Tanner looked toward the door.
She closed her eyes for a moment, making him disappear from her sight, wishing she could cause him to go away permanently.
The front doorbell gave the usual exuberant clang that meant her son had made contact with it. To her dismay, Kevin’s voice rang out, too.
“Hey, Mom, I’m home.”
His sneakers slapped against the wooden floor as he came toward the back of the store.
“In here, honey.”
Tanner, standing closer to the office door, shifted into the opening.
Kevin’s sneakers squeaked to a halt. “Hey—”
She hurried to step beside Tanner. “Hi, Kev.”
He had stopped halfway down the center aisle. His eyes widened, his lips trembled in obvious shock and a hint of fear. Still, his small fists crept up to rest on his hips. He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him, and twice as protective. Her heart lurched.
“What’re you doin’?” he demanded.
“Hush, Kevin. That’s not—”
“Watch it, kid,” Tanner cut in, “that’s your mom you’re talking to.”
“I’m not—”
“Kevin.”
“But, Mom, I was talking to him.”
“That’s not the way we act with guests, is it?”
She pushed past Tanner. He had no right to discipline her son in front of her. No call to speak to him that way at all.
Tanner followed her into the store, then stood looking at her, one eyebrow raised.
Did he think she’d let such rudeness slide? Did he really think she couldn’t manage her own son?
Egging the sheriff’s car had been wrong. She had already taken Kevin to task for it and given him a list of extra chores, as well. And she would reprimand him for his backtalk now. But, oh, how she wished she could avoid this whole issue, when it only prolonged having Kevin and Tanner together.
“We were just visiting, honey,” she told her son. “And you need to apologize to Deputy Jones for your tone.”
“But, Mom—”
She shook her head, caught between feeling proud of him and needing to behave like a concerned parent. The prideful part wanted her to excuse her son, as she suspected he’d only meant to defend her. The parent knew she had to teach him to take responsibility for his actions.
Besides, she couldn’t let him think he could back-talk a deputy sheriff!
“Kevin…”
After a long pause, he glowered at Tanner and muttered, “Sorry.” Immediately, he looked back to Sarah. “Can I have my cookies now?”
She nodded. “Don’t spoil your supper.”
Kevin dodged down a side aisle, and a moment later they heard him pounding up the stairs.
With a firm hold on her emotions, she turned to Tanner. Instead of the angry look she’d expected, she found him gazing at her thoughtfully, a smile touching his lips.
She could have dealt better with anger.
“Supper…” His smile widened. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Still barbecue night at Delia’s?”
She nodded shortly. The one indulgence she allowed herself and Kevin. Because she could run up a tab at the diner.
“Mm-mmm,” Tanner growled. “About the only thing I like better than your pecan loaf is a plateful of Delia’s barbecue.”
“Really?” She wasn’t about to take the bait for an invitation. “If you don’t mind getting back on task here…As you can see, I have taught my son some manners. Still, I apologize for him, too.”
To her shock, Tanner just shrugged. “To me, seemed like the kid was only looking out for you.”
“To me, too.” For a moment, that feeling of pride pushed her to smile.
He shook his head. “Must be hard, him not having a dad around. Maybe I should talk to him. Teach him a little respect.”
Her smile slid away. “I’m teaching him—”
“Coddling’s not always the best way.”
“You don’t know a thing about it,” she snapped. What had she been thinking, sharing the tiniest moment of understanding with Tanner? He was the enemy, the man who could bring her life tumbling down around her, if he ever found out the truth. “And I can handle my own problems.”
One eyebrow slowly went up. “So, you admit you’ve got trouble with him.”
“Right now, the only trouble I’ve got is with you.” She stalked around him to pick up the clipboard with the team rosters. “Why don’t we settle our business, so you can be on your way?”
TANNER CHECKED OUT the roads around Dillon for a while, then turned back to town just near suppertime. It had been a depressing trip, for more than one reason, and he needed food. Company. And answers.
The reminder of Thursday and barbecue night headed him in the direction of Main Street. Even before he’d left, there hadn’t been much to the town of Dillon, just a couple blocks of businesses. And now there were a lot of vacant properties between Delia’s Diner at one end and The Book Cellar down near the other.
Thinking about the bookstore set him off again. He still fumed from Sarah’s quick run-through of the duty rosters, followed by her cold dismissal. He couldn’t understand her reaction. A single mother, with a young boy running wild. Things couldn’t be easy. He’d only tried to help.
Why had she bothered to co-chair the committee with him?
Maybe she’d caught on at last, made the connection between her kid and his mischief and the other problems going on about town. Of course, Kevin couldn’t account for all the complaints, but Tanner suspected that he was one of several kids involved in this “crime wave.”
Someone would have to keep track of that boy.
And, plain as day, Sarah Lindstrom hadn’t a chance of controlling her misbehaving child. No wonder, with what she said to him two days earlier.
She didn’t have a husband.
He frowned, recalling the tight edge of hurt in her voice when she’d told him. What had happened to the man? She’d had a husband once, someone she used to love.
Yeah, and she used to love him, years ago.
He shoved the thought away.
She hadn’t ever loved him, no matter what she’d said. How could she, when she’d so obviously hooked herself up with another man so soon after he’d left town?
Could be she cared for that other man still, and that’s why her voice carried such hurt?
That thought had him slamming the pickup’s door extra hard behind him.
He strode into Delia’s and sniffed at the tangy smell in the air. Nice to know some things never changed. Not like women.
Scowling, he directed his gaze to the back booth Doc Thompson always claimed as his own. And there the man sat, digging in to one of Delia’s Texas-sized barbecue sandwiches.
Almost everything in the diner came Texas-sized, including the owner herself, who charged around the end of the front counter, a grin splitting her face.
He met her halfway and returned her rib-cracking hug.
She stepped back, put her huge hands on her hips, and shook her head slowly. “Well, whoever would believe it, Tanner Jones, a deputy sheriff. Decided to stay on the right side of the law, huh?”
“Why not?”
Her laugh echoed around the room and bounced off the high ceiling. “Don’t playact innocence with me, boy, after all those times you helped me load stock in here. When all those jelly doughnuts grew legs and walked off with you.”
He shrugged. He’d forgotten about that. “Hell, Delia, those were my tips.”
She laughed till her eyes streamed. “All right, boy, what do you want to do me out of now?”
“Coffee and double special.”
“Coming right up.” She turned away, still chuckling.
When he reached Doc’s booth, the other man nodded at him, his mouth full, but his eyes twinkling.
Tanner slid into the vacant bench seat. It put him with his back to the door, not something he liked.
Doc swallowed. “Delia looks happy to see you.”
“Whatever happened to the Welcome Wagon?”
He laughed and took a swig of coffee. “So. How’s the law and order around town tonight?”
“Orderly.”
Doc eyed him. “Maybe I should’ve said, how’s the lawman.”
Tanner grunted. “Suddenly aware of all the changes around Dillon, and not for the better.”
“Yeah,” Doc said, “we were hit hard when the furniture factory closed its doors. A few of the longtime stores had to follow suit, and some people moved out, looking for work.” He shook his head. “At least the ranchers are still holding on.”
Delia set a platter and coffee mug in front of Tanner, and he dug in. By the time he polished off the first sandwich, he felt more like himself. And now that he’d satisfied a part of his hunger, he planned to do the same for his curiosity. “Tell me something, Doc. What’s with Sarah?”
“Ah.” Doc’s white eyebrows rose. “So that’s what’s got you going. Here, I blamed it on a trip down memory lane.”
“C’mon, Doc.” Some memories were best forgotten. And others…He shook his head. “What about Sarah? She’s raising that kid of hers alone, running that store by herself. Told me she hasn’t got a husband. What happened to him?”
Doc shook his head. “Don’t know. Never laid eyes on the man, myself.”
“What?” Tanner sat back. “How can that be?” Doc met everyone who set foot in Dillon.
The other man shrugged. “You weren’t the only one to take off years ago. You remember when you phoned a short while later, I told you about Sarah’s daddy getting sick, passing on.”
Tanner nodded. He did remember.
He’d called Sarah before he left town for boot camp, and she’d hung up on him.
A few weeks later, he’d tried her again and found the phone disconnected. With his parents already gone to live closer to his grandparents in Oklahoma, he’d done the next best thing and dialed Doc’s number. But Sarah had closed up the bookstore and left without telling anyone in town where she’d headed.
Tanner winced at the reminder of Sarah’s loss. He’d known her father well, had always liked him, had spent a lot of time with him growing up. And he hadn’t given a thought to offering Sarah his condolences.
He pushed his plate away, not sure even Delia’s barbecue could fill the sudden hollowness he felt deep inside.
“Happened quick,” Doc continued. “After, she went off to live with some relatives out in California, so we heard it later. She doesn’t talk about that time much.”
Tanner frowned. “When did she come back?”
“Just a few weeks before the baby’s birth.”
“With no husband tagging along?”
“Nope. Just her and the baby I delivered shortly after that. They’ve been here ever since.”
“What happened to the father?”
Doc shrugged again. “No use asking me, boy. Couldn’t tell you. You want to find out about Sarah’s coming and goings, you need to ask her yourself.”
He’d tried that, for all the good it had done him.
That didn’t mean he’d given up. He did want to know about Sarah, to learn what had happened to her in the years after he’d gone. Why, he couldn’t say.
Since asking had got him nowhere, he’d try something else. He had other ways to get information.
And detecting skills he could put to good use.

Chapter Four
The minute Tanner left the diner, Lily Gannett gave Delia the signal and proceeded to Doc’s booth in the back of the room. Delia followed, carrying a coffee carafe.
“How did it go?” Lily asked even before she’d finished settling across from Doc. She leaned forward, resting her forearms against the cool Formica tabletop.
“Yeah, spill it.” Delia dragged a chair to the end of the booth and plopped onto the seat. “What’d you tell him?”
He shrugged. “Just what we planned.”
Lily felt a momentary unease. “You don’t think we’re overdoing it? Delia, you should have seen Jeb Carter at the town meeting. I never knew he had such acting ability.”
“Wasn’t acting,” Doc protested. “Nobody made up any of those pranks going on around town. Exaggerated their concern, maybe, that’s all.”
“In the hope of catching Tanner’s attention. Which we did.”
“Which Sarah did.” Delia laughed. “Think he’s seen through us yet, Doc?”
“Uh-uh. Tied up in knots as he was when he left just now, he’s lucky to see past the end of his boots.”
“Good.” Delia slapped a broad hand on the table. “Can’t wait to see what happens when he figures it out. If he ever does.” She caught Lily’s frown immediately and said, “No regrets, now. We can’t expect the pair of them to manage things on their own. And Tanner always was thickheaded as a mule about some things.”
Lily had to agree.
All three of them had known Tanner—and Sarah, too—since birth. For that matter, Doc had delivered them both.
But as Tanner’s former teacher, she’d found more to him than stubbornness. “He can smarten up when he puts his mind to it. No, what’s worrying me is Sarah.”
“Plenty to worry about over her, with the load she’s had to carry.” Doc held his mug out to Delia. “Never one to make much about her troubles, though. Proud.”
“Too proud. And that could bring things down around her ears.” Delia topped off the mug, set the pot down again, and leaned forward. “You’ve got to talk to the child, Lily. Sarah’ll listen to you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’ve got to,” Delia repeated. “We hit it lucky with Worth needing some time off. But Sarah’s pride could ruin all we did to get Tanner hired on at the County Sheriff’s.”
SARAH GRIPPED THE station wagon’s steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles hurt. Her heart hurt, too, as she thought of the phone call that had sent her hurrying to put the Closed sign on the front door, then rushing to the car.
She stared at Dillon’s one-and-only traffic light. Willed it to turn green. Felt tempted to drive through regardless. There was no one else in sight on this quiet Friday morning.
And, luckily, she’d seen no sign of Tanner.
She still felt a pang of guilt at coaxing Kevin into staying home for supper last night, instead of going to Delia’s.
When the signal changed at last, she shot through the empty intersection.
Normally she’d have walked the mile or so to the grade school, to save wear and tear on Daddy’s ancient Chevy wagon. Not today. Not when the school principal himself, Sam Porter, had asked to see her at the earliest to talk about an unfortunate situation.
Lordy, what had Kevin done now? Gotten into a fist-fight? Taken a sack lunch that looked better than his own? But, no—Kevin wouldn’t steal.
Keeping an eye out for pedestrians, she turned onto the road that led to the schoolhouse.
She’d tried so hard to be a good mother, all on her own. To do the proper thing, all alone. In her mind’s eye, she saw the red light again and felt doubly thankful she hadn’t run through it.
A white picket fence needing a new coat of paint surrounded the school property. The wide gate sat propped open. She chugged to a stop in an empty parking spot near the building and turned off the motor.
Another vehicle coasted into the spot beside hers. Tanner. He was the man grinning at her from the front seat, nearly blinding her with the sunlight reflecting off his mirrored glasses.
Dropping her head to the steering wheel, she muttered something unladylike and wished desperately she could stay there. But Kevin needed her, so she grabbed the duct-taped driver’s handle and shoved the door open.
“That’s the same old Chevy you had growing up?” he called out.
“The very same.” She had learned to drive in the old wagon, had taken it to California and back after Daddy died, and now did what little she could afford to keep it from falling to pieces.
Tanner frowned. “Idle’s sounding real rough. Best get it checked out.”
“I will,” she said through gritted teeth. No time now to argue about his interference. She nodded shortly and marched past him. He clamped a hand around her upper arm.
“If you’ll excuse me…” It took almost more strength than she could muster to turn and face him, to look pointedly at his restraining hand. But she managed. “I have an appointment.”
“Me, too.” He dropped her arm. “I also have something you’ll want to hear before you head into that school.”
“Why do you—? Never mind.” He hadn’t made an outright claim, yet she’d jumped to read accusation in his tone. She took a deep breath, tried to calm down. What was wrong with her?
He stood too close, that explained it. She couldn’t think.
Her thoughts were with her son, anyway.
“What is it? Kevin?” Her heart clenching, she backed a pace closer to the schoolhouse.
Surely Sam would have told her immediately if something had happened to her son? Of course, he would have. She forced herself to focus on Tanner, who stood shaking his head. Her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses bounced crazily, making her dizzy.
“It’s about the vandalism around town.”
“One worry at a time, Tanner. And right now, my meeting with the principal takes priority.”
She could handle her problems herself, could be a good mother all on her own, just as she always had been. Could get her head on straight and think clearly.
If only she could get away from this man.
“We can discuss the vandalism later.” She hurried toward the school, trying to block out the sound of jangles and squeaks and footsteps that meant he was following her.
“Hold up, Sarah.” He got to the school entrance a second before her and pulled the front door open. “You’re not shaking me off that easy. Sam called me in on this, too.”
Swallowing a groan, she walked through the doorway. At this point, she couldn’t have said what dismayed her more, that Tanner would have a part in this meeting, or that Sam had seen fit to involve the law.
She marched across the lobby area. Tanner kept pace beside her. They stopped at the front desk, where Ella Byers, the school secretary, smiled up at them.
Was that a hint of sympathy in her eyes?
Sarah stood taller. “We’re here to see Sam.”
“He’s waiting.” Ella made a quick phone call, then gestured toward the hall. “You can go right along to his office.”
Sarah nodded and skirted the desk, her steps leaden now, as if she had started down the road to her own lynching.
When she rounded the corner, she saw Kevin, looking as if he felt the same. He sat slumped on a hard wooden bench pushed up against the pale-blue wall, his eyes twice normal size and his shoulder span reduced by half. One glance at his defeated posture made her stand taller yet, even as she blinked back tears.
“Mom.” He eased forward, ready to get up from the bench, then slid back again, maybe recalling what had brought him to this seat outside the principal’s office in the first place.
“I’ll see you in a bit, Kevin. I need to speak with Mr. Porter first.”
His gaze jumped from her to fasten on Tanner, who gave a quick nod to her son.
When she and Tanner entered the office, Sam Porter stood. Dark-haired, solidly built and nearly as tall as Tanner, he had no trouble reaching over his massive desk to shake her hand. At the church potluck just this Sunday, Sam had traded jokes with her. Now, not a hint of a twinkle showed in his gray eyes.
After greeting Tanner, he waved them both to chairs pulled up to the desk.
“We’ve got ourselves a situation here,” he said. “A couple of vending machines damaged, the coin slots filled with glue. And it seems like your boy caused the problem.”
“Seems like?” She grabbed at the most important words.
“Just an expression. To tell the truth, he was caught in the act. He also had a couple of extra tubes of glue in his back pocket. Looks like he had quite a spree in mind.” He shot a glance toward the open doorway, then continued in a lower voice, “Considering all the upset that’s going on around town, I felt Deputy Jones ought to have a few words with Kevin, maybe let the uniform make an impression.”
“Good idea, Sam,” Tanner said. “I’ll talk with him alone for a bit, if you don’t mind.”
She started, ready to protest, but Sam nodded. “Fine. Sarah and I have a lot to discuss ourselves. Including how her boy’s going to pay for the damages he’s done.”
Her stomach clenched.
Money shouldn’t concern her most, and didn’t. Kevin’s actions that morning had shot right to the top of her long list of worries. Still, she dreaded hearing what it would cost to fix what Kevin had done.
A bill for repairs that might just bankrupt her.
Sam came around from behind his desk. “Let me go speak to Ella for a minute, Sarah. On the way out, I’ll explain to Kevin that the Deputy will want to talk with him.”
Tanner spoke up again. “Ask him to wait for me outside by the front steps.”
Sam nodded and left the room. He’d barely cleared the threshold when Sarah twisted in her seat to face Tanner.
“You’re not going to question Kevin alone.”
“I said talk, not question. And I know how to handle kids.”
“Not that I’ve experienced,” she mumbled.
To her surprise, he laughed. “You haven’t seen the full workout. Hang around till I get the thumbscrews.”
“Tanner!”
“That’s Deputy right now, ma’am. And I hope you’re not thinking of refusing to let me speak with your son.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut in.
“We don’t have time for this now.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “If you hadn’t found it necessary to shut me out in the parking lot…”
His sudden quiet unnerved her even more.
“I don’t want to add to your troubles, Sarah, but there’s something you need to know. I pulled a few of the kids here at the grade school aside earlier today. They claim there’s a gang of high-school boys who’ve taken to hanging around the younger ones.”
“Well, that’s a start. We can talk to the older boys. Later. Right now, I’ve got—”
“One of them thinks Kevin’s running with the gang.”
Her mouth dropped open. She clamped it shut and shook her head violently. “That’s impossible. And you’re just accepting this, without giving Kevin a chance?”
“What do you take me for, Sarah?” Tanner stared at her, his eyes bleak and icy-blue, his face set in stone. “Don’t you know me better than that?”
No, she wanted to shout, I don’t know you at all. Maybe I never did.
She swallowed hard and looked away, trying not to think of her shattered past, trying to focus on the horrible here and now. Kevin, in a gang? She refused to believe it. He was only seven years old!
Tanner reached out and clamped his hand on her arm as if trying to still her sudden trembling. “This stunt with the vending machines. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”
“How could that be?”
“I’m not so sure about placing full blame on Kevin.”
Her gaze shot to his again. “You don’t think he did it?”
Tanner shrugged. “Not by himself, at any rate. Doesn’t seem like something a kid his age would come up with on his own.”
She looked eagerly at him.
And now, she saw something different in his expression, something…no longer bleak or cold or hard…something she couldn’t define. A yielding, maybe. A compassion she had never expected from him again.
He reached up with his free hand and touched her jaw. “Chin up, Sarah. Things’ll work out all right.”
If only they could.
Abruptly, he frowned, dropped his hand from her face and let go of her arm. “Sam’s got the right idea. Your boy needs a taste of what’ll happen if he keeps heading down this wrong path. Far as I can see, you’re not having much luck with him yourself. I want to talk to Kevin alone, man-to-man—and that sure won’t happen with his mom hanging over his shoulder.” He grinned.
Her already shaky emotions threatened to collapse. How could he treat this awful situation so lightly? And manage to insult her again, at the same time?
He stood up, leaving her so incensed, she couldn’t find the words to respond.
Leaving her, also, with a clear view of the doorway. Kevin stood outside in the hall, staring at them.
“Kev—” She snapped her mouth shut. Too late.
Tanner pivoted, then started toward the doorway.
Kevin fled.
Tanner took off after him and Sarah rose to follow. The sound of Sam’s voice made her drop back into her chair, feeling like Kevin on his hallway bench. She passed a hand over her face, trying to brush away any trace of Tanner’s touch. Trying to ease the heat that suffused her cheeks before Sam could enter the room.
What had Kevin seen? What had he thought?
What had she thought, by leaving her imagination to fly off on its own? By letting Tanner get so close to her?
Her heart throbbed extra hard for a beat or three. Made her think things she would never have considered until that moment.
How would her life have been if Tanner had never left her? How might this situation play out if they had raised Kevin as their son? How would Tanner react if she just blurted the truth to him now?
Rubbing her fingertips in small circles on her temples, she thought back to what he had said—before his smart remark about her lack of success with her son.
Kevin hadn’t acted alone. At least, so Tanner seemed to think. Thank heaven, he’d opened his mind enough to start looking in other directions. She only hoped he would keep that mind open wide when he spoke to Kevin.
Man-to-man.
At the words, her stomach churned. Kevin had never had a man around to talk to. But circumstances sure changed that now.
TANNER FINALLY FOUND the kid halfway across the school yard, awkwardly tossing stones at the front gate. He settled his regulation Stetson in place and crossed the space as quietly as his boots would allow.

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