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Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss(22)

By:Kelly Boyce


“Might be kinda nice to take it up again, whittle away the hours. What do you say?”

“I can get you a chessboard and you can teach Jenkins to play if you’re hard up for entertainment, Yucton. Sitting in here keeping you company isn’t any place for a lady,” Hunter said, butting into their conversation again.

“I don’t recall you ever thinking of me as a lady, Sheriff, and I certainly don’t recall asking you for your opinion on the matter,” Meredith stated. If nothing else, she could use the time to convince Bill to hire Bertram for his defense.

Hunter pulled his mouth into a tight line. “No one has to ask me. It’s my jail.”

She offered him her sweetest smile but layered her words with sarcasm. “Is it now? I thought it was the town’s jail.”

“Semantics.”

“Well, if you are saying you’re prohibiting Bill from having visitors, I’m not sure you have the right to do that. Of course, I suppose I could always check with that gentleman lawyer. What was his name again?”

“Mr. Wallace Platt,” Bill supplied.

“Of course. Mr. Platt. I’m sure such a fine Southern gentleman wouldn’t hesitate to help a lady in need.”

A small sliver of satisfaction pierced her when Hunter shot her a dark look. “I’m not saying he can’t have visitors. I’m saying I can think of better places for you to be spending your time.”

“Really? And where are these better places?”

“Boston.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Has anyone ever told you how annoyingly overbearing you are?”

“Not recently.”

“I find that very difficult to believe.”

Bill laughed, the deep rumble rolling around her. “Maybe I won’t need that chess game after all, Sheriff. I find listenin’ to the two of you jaw back and forth quite entertaining.”

Hunter shifted his gaze away from her to land on Bill. “Shut up, Yucton. She shouldn’t be here.”

Shouldn’t be around him is what Hunter likely meant. And while she would be more than happy to comply, it hurt more than she cared to admit to know he shared those feelings. Had he always felt that way, even while he played her false? She’d been such a fool, too blinded by the wonder that someone as fine and upstanding as Hunter Donovan was interested in her to see the truth.

Bill shrugged. “Can’t do no harm. ’Sides, a man can get sick of looking at your mug day in and day out. Ain’t sayin’ you’re ugly or nothin’. God knows to hear Jenkins tell it, half the single women in town get downright fluttery whenever you walk by. But I’d still rather have a pretty face and sweet disposition to keep me company all the same.”

Meredith didn’t care to hear how the women still got themselves all in a dither over Hunter. Obviously, not much had changed in that regard during her absence. Still, she did find it odd he hadn’t found one to settle down with. Surely one of them met the lofty Donovan standards. Though a small, rebellious part of her, a part she refused to give credence to, gave a little cheer over the fact no one had.

“If you’re done arguing on that account,” she said. “I will ride out to the homestead tomorrow and see if I can’t find Pa’s old chess set. It would be my pleasure to keep you entertained, Bill. Although I’ll admit, I’m quite rusty.”

“That makes two of us. Guess we can relearn the game together.”



Hunter waited until Meredith left the office before he gave up on his relaxed position and let his feet hit the floor with every ounce of his suppressed anger coursing through his veins.

“You mind telling me what the hell you’re doing bringing her into this place every day like it’s where she oughta be? This isn’t the place for her! Hell, half the time we’ve got drunks and idiots on either side of you. Do you want her exposed to that?”

Hunter certainly didn’t. Nor did he want to be constantly exposed to her. Or rather he did, which meant he shouldn’t because there was only so much a man could stand on that account before he started to lose the part of his mind that made him step back and steer clear. If Meredith was in his jail every day, there’d be no avoiding it. How long did he think he could go without declaring his feelings, making a total arse of himself and giving her enough ammunition to do him in? Not long, he guessed if his current state of thinking was any indication.

Yucton glared up at him. “Well she ain’t going back to Boston that much is clear. And if you think you’re going to convince her otherwise then you’ve forgotten she owns a stubborn streak deep enough to sink a ship in. So tell me this, Sheriff—given she’s not leavin’ and given you promised her pa you’d keep her safe, where do you think is a safer place to keep her if not right under your nose?”