Chapter Eight
“Did you have a good time?”
Ruby smiled at Cliff. “I did.” In fact, she had a far better time than she’d anticipated.
“Told you, square dancing isn’t that hard.”
“It’s not exactly easy, either.”
“But after a few ‘swing your partners,’ you got the hang of it.”
What would it be like to dance with Cliff in a honky-tonk? Where they could two-step or, better yet, slow dance? He hadn’t held her tonight except to promenade.
She could imagine their fingers linked. His other hand pressed into the small of her back. Their bodies swaying in rhythm to the music.
Whoa! This was not the direction her thoughts should be going in.
They were walking from his SUV to her trailer. His question had broken a lull that had stretched during the entire drive home. Strange. They’d had no trouble talking all evening, except for that one little bump when Cliff’s aunt and cousin had cornered her in the restroom.
She wasn’t mad. They cared about him. Everyone in town cared about him. That much had been abundantly clear. Cliff wasn’t just their sheriff, he was their friend. They wanted him to be happy. And if Scarlett made him happy, they would gladly welcome her into their fold.
Only Ruby wasn’t her sister, and she wasn’t Sheriff Dempsey’s girlfriend. She was a fraud. A stranger who was planning on leaving soon.
“Key?” He held out his hand.
“Right.” She removed it from her purse and gave it to him.
On the other side of the door, Sarge barked, then whimpered with excitement when Cliff inserted the key and turned the knob.
“Wait here,” he instructed.
“Of course.” After three days, she was used to this.
Sarge bounded outside the moment the door was opened. After a well-deserved petting, he trotted off to investigate the nearby trees and bushes while Cliff searched the trailer.
“All clear,” he called from inside.
“Here, Sarge.” Ruby clapped her hands.
The dog was slow to respond. He stood staring off into a darkened stand of ponderosa pines on the corner of the property.
Cliff came to the door. “Something wrong?”
“Just Sarge. Maybe he’s spotted a squirrel or something.”
Cliff’s brows formed a deep V. Just as he shoved past Ruby, Sarge suddenly turned and returned to the trailer, his tongue lolling in a silly dog grin.
“Guess it was a squirrel after all,” she said.
“Yeah.” Cliff’s tone was skeptical. “Come inside.”
He followed close on her heels.
“You staying?” she asked.
“Just for a few minutes.”
“I’m fine, Cliff.” She tossed her purse on the coffee table. “You can leave.”
“I will. Soon.”
Was it possible he didn’t want to go?
It was entirely possible she didn’t want him to go.
“Can I get you something?” She wasn’t thinking of water.
Neither was he. Heat flared in his eyes. “I’m okay.”
She liked it when he showed emotion. Liked it a lot.
Seconds ticked by. Neither of them moved.
This was stupid, Ruby thought. Any relationship they had was doomed from the start. Her home was in Vegas. His in Sweetheart, three hours away. She was evading a stalker and would probably be a material witness in his upcoming trial. One of them needed to be the adult.
“I’m pretty sure the coast is clear,” she said.
“You’re right.” He inched slowly away.
She buried her frustration. What did she expect? For him to sweep her into his arms? Hadn’t she just admitted the pointlessness of that?
“Call me before you go to bed,” he instructed.
“Not necessary. I’m heading straight there.”
“Call me anyway.”
Because he wanted to talk to her as she was slipping beneath the covers?
He hesitated on the porch. “I had a nice time tonight.”
Her heart skipped. That was the kind of remark a man made to a woman at the end of a real date. Not a pretend one.
“Me, too.”
“Yeah?”
“I did.” She gazed up at him, wondering what his touch would feel like.
He was obviously adept at mind reading for he brushed a lock of hair from her face.
Ruby’s skin tingled in the wake of his fingers. Unable to resist, she closed her eyes. Then, it happened. His lips brushed hers.
Nice. Sweet. Tender. So different from the harsh, cold kiss of that first day.
He drew back, and Ruby opened her eyes. Sadly, the moment was over.
Only it wasn’t over. The next instant, Cliff grabbed her by both shoulders and hauled her up onto the tips of her toes. Their faces were inches apart.
“Is this for show, too, Cliff?” The intensity of her voice surprised her, considering how utterly weak she felt. “Because I doubt anyone’s watching.”
“Hell, no.”
His mouth covered hers in a kiss that rivaled all others. Ruby surrendered to the power of it. The fire. The raw passion. This was no pretense. Cliff was kissing her. Ruby. With a desire that left no doubt she was at the center of his every fantasy.
Rocking against him, she reveled in the sensation of his solid frame and the unmistakable response to her he couldn’t hide. This was how a man and woman were meant to fit together. Melding perfectly, like two halves to a whole.
Sounds escaped them both. A low groan from him, a thready sigh from her. Cliff’s arms circled her, creating a lock from which there was no escape. Ruby’s hands ventured on their own quest, climbing his arms to his broad shoulders, then upward to cradle his cheeks. The slight bristle of his five-o’clock shadow tickled her palms.
She sighed again and pulled him deeper into the kiss. After that, Cliff took control, and his skills didn’t disappoint.
The insanity—she could think of it as nothing else—ended too soon. He, and not she, had come to his senses first.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his breathing harsh.
“You’re right.” Her head felt light. The result of an intoxicating kiss from an utterly incredible man.
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Too, too bad. “That’s probably wise.”
“Call me before you go to bed,” was all he said before taking his leave.
As if she could go to sleep after the last ten minutes.
Ruby locked the door, leaned her back against it and smiled ridiculously wide. Mistake or not, kissing Cliff had been mind-boggling. Earth-shattering. And so worth it.
She went to the window and eased back the curtain. Cliff was only just leaving. She watched until the red taillights of his SUV disappeared completely.
“Good night, Cliff,” she said to herself. “Thank you for the lovely time.”
In the hall, Sarge blocked her path. He wore an inscrutable expression on his face.
“What are you staring at?”
If dogs could roll their eyes, Sarge would.
“It was one kiss.” One phenomenal kiss. “He said it wouldn’t happen again.”
She’d hardly reached her bedroom when her cell phone rang. Cliff! He hadn’t waited for her.
Ruby returned to the coffee table and dug the phone out of her purse with shaking fingers.
Not Cliff. Rather, a number she didn’t recognize. Her heart went from fluttering to racing.
She wasn’t answering. Not after the last time. Clutching the phone in her suddenly damp palm, she let the call go to voice mail and waited for the ding notifying her of a message. The phone screamed silence.
Knowing it was useless, she checked for a message anyway. A droning female voice informed her there were none.
“It was just a misdial, right?”
Sarge didn’t answer her. He was too busy sniffing at the door.
“What is it? Another squirrel?”
A low but lethal growl emanated from the dog’s throat.
Ruby didn’t think dogs growled at squirrels. “Sarge?”
He stood on his one hind leg and propped his front paws on the door, then started barking in earnest. Ruby jerked and nearly dropped her phone. She was no longer nervous but downright scared.
Starting for the window, she stopped in midstep. Was that prudent? Not with the lights on. If someone was out there watching her, they would see her through the window. Unless she turned off the light.
Cliff’s warning reverberated in her head. Light was her best defense.
She should call him. And tell him what exactly? That Sarge was barking at the door. Knowing Cliff, he’d come rushing back, only to find nothing out of the ordinary.
Seconds later, the dog quieted. Sitting, then falling onto his side, he scratched his neck with his one hind leg. When he was done, he stood and shook from head to tail, completely unconcerned.
Cliff was definitely going to get his wish. Ruby was calling him before she went to bed.
She waited a while longer. When nothing more transpired, she went to the kitchen and turned on the light there. The bedroom was next. She wasn’t satisfied until the trailer was lit up like the Vegas strip. Climbing into bed, she invited Sarge to sleep with her. Stuffing pillows behind her back, she pressed the speed dial for Cliff’s number.
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I guess.”
“You sound upset.”
Was he that attuned to her already? “Sarge started barking after you left, but then he stopped.”
“And now?”
“He’s sleeping.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Just what she’d expected him to say. “Cliff, you can’t come running every time Sarge barks.”
“I won’t disturb you.”
Since there was no stopping him, she simply said, “Good night. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
She lay awake for the next ten minutes, listening for the rumble of Cliff’s vehicle. True to his word, he didn’t knock on her door and left soon after. Clearly, he’d found nothing. Sarge was just responding to a harmless noise as dogs are apt to do.
The reassurances didn’t help. Sleep evaded Ruby for hours. Crowley’s arraignment couldn’t come soon enough.
What would she do? How would she protect herself, once she’d returned home and Cliff was in Sweetheart?
* * *
THE SOUND OF BLEATING SHEEP reached Cliff’s ears long before the small rodeo arena came into view. Sarge sprang instantly to life. Ears pricked, eyes alert, his hobble smoothed into a fast trot. This was hardly his first interaction with livestock, and the loss of a limb wouldn’t hinder his enjoyment.
Fifty feet short of the arena, Cliff stopped to observe Ruby.
Hatless, long hanks of hair falling loose from her ponytail, and every inch of her covered in grime, she chased a herd of six adult ewes in circles. In this game of tag, the ewes were clearly ahead. While Ruby stopped to rest, visibly struggling to catch her breath, the formerly fleet-footed sheep stood bunched together, glaring at her and bleating insults.
Sarge whined in eager anticipation.
“Sitz, boy. Bleib.”
The dog sat, but every muscle strummed with excitement. His police training was all but set aside as the herding instinct encoded in his DNA took over.
“No worries,” Cliff assured the dog. “You’ll have your chance. She won’t get those sheep rounded up without you.”
From what he could tell, Ruby was attempting to wrangle a sheep, or multiple sheep, into the bucking chute.
In the sport of mutton busting, a child, usually around the age of three to six, was placed on top of the sheep and instructed to hold tight. The sheep was then released to run the length of the arena, and the child’s ride was timed. Sort of like bull or bronc riding, only on a smaller scale and considerably less dangerous.
Winners were determined by the longest ride and awarded a ribbon. Skill and technique didn’t count. Generally, all the participants received some sort of prize for having the courage to compete. They’d earn it, too. Mutton busting was a tough sport, and every rider eventually landed face first in the dirt. The kids, however, loved it. For the most part.
Trying and failing again to drive even one sheep into the bucking chute, Ruby braced her hands on her knees and burst out laughing.
Cliff chuckled along with her. She might be in over her head when it came to herding sheep, but she was having fun and not taking herself seriously. He liked that about her.
He liked a lot of things about her. Too many for his own good.
It was a relief to see her happy. He’d worried about her the past few days. While they’d talked every hour, they hadn’t seen each other since the night of the square dance. It was now Monday afternoon. Cliff had decided that, in light of their kiss, a little distance might be in their best interests.
What he hadn’t counted on was how much he’d missed her. The sight of her now was like emerging from a dark cave into full sunlight. Their time apart had done nothing to temper his desire for her.
In his place, Cliff had recruited Sam to escort Ruby home from work on Saturday and Iva Lynn to drop by on Sunday, Ruby’s day off. Cliff continued driving past the trailer on rounds, verifying that all was well. He’d glimpsed her and Sarge only once. She’d waved, and Cliff had cursed under his breath.
According to Iva Lynn, his dog wasn’t happy about being dropped off at the station and had moped all morning. Apparently, he was settling in nicely with Ruby.
And she, Cliff thought as he continued watching her, was settling in nicely to life as a wrangler. Sarge would be lonely when she left.
Cliff, too.
Ruby finally managed to corner one ewe, only to have it break loose at the last second. This could go on all afternoon.
Cliff approached the arena and opened the gate. “Away, Sarge,” he commanded.
Yipping, the dog sprinted across the arena toward the sheep, his gait slightly unnatural but incredibly fast. In a matter of seconds, he had the six ewes standing shoulder to shoulder and perfectly still.
“Hold,” Cliff called out as he walked toward Ruby, confident in his dog’s abilities to keep the flock in place.
She stared in amazement, first at Sarge, then Cliff. “Did that just happen?”
He grinned. “When I brought Sarge home after his release, he needed physical therapy and daily exercise. Like some people, I suppose, he was depressed over his injury and the loss of his job. The vet told me to keep him busy. Herding sheep at old man Seymour’s place is what we did. I still take him there once a month for a workout.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I could have. But watching you try to herd sheep was fairly entertaining.”
She grinned then, too. The worry Cliff had been holding on to dissipated. She wasn’t mad at him.
“What now?”
“Watch this.” He went over to the pair of chutes and swung the doors wide. He stood by the first one. Here was the part where Sarge really shined.
Whistling shrilly, Cliff issued another command. Sarge was off in a flash. It took the dog less than two minutes to divide the sheep and herd the first group into a chute. Cliff closed the door behind them. The second group was contained just as quickly. Tongue lolling and wearing his I’m-a-good-dog face, Sarge hop-trotted back to Cliff.
“That’ll do, boy.” He stroked Sarge’s head.
“He’s amazing!” Ruby came over and hugged the dog’s neck. To Cliff she said, “Please tell me I can use him during the gymkhana.”
“He’s all yours.”
She straightened, her features falling. “I don’t know why I said that. I won’t be here.”
Yet another reminder of her impending departure. The powers that be must be sending Cliff a message.
“You can use Sarge until you leave. For practices.”
“Thanks.”
Their gazes locked. Was she recalling their kiss? He certainly was. Constantly.
“Speaking of which, can I also borrow your nieces? I need victims. I mean, volunteers.”
He laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
“Do you know anyone with a small protective vest we can borrow? We already have riding helmets.”
“Let me make a call. The problem is getting it here in time.”
“I’d offer to drive and pick it up, but I’m thinking you won’t allow that, Sheriff Dempsey.”
“You are correct.”
“What if you came with me?”
“What if we send Luis instead?”
“Okay,” she muttered grumpily.
“Are you getting bored?”
“Not with the work. But I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery.”
Between Cliff and Sam, they’d kept her on a short leash. Other than the square dance and the trail ride her first day, she hadn’t been anywhere except the ranch and the trailer. Even walks with Sarge were discouraged.
“Have you had any other disturbances?” Cliff asked.
“Not since the last one.”
“Detective James called. The arraignment is on schedule.”
“That’s what I hear.” She sighed expansively.
“Are you planning on attending?”
Confined in the chutes, the sheep had quieted down. Sarge patrolled back and forth in front of the chutes, primed for action should one of them attempt escape.
Ruby wiped her forearm across her brow, smearing the dirt smudge rather than wiping it off. Cliff considered telling her. He didn’t. She looked too cute.
“Probably not,” she finally said. “The prosecutor advises against it.”
“You want to be there,” he guessed.
“I want to see him brought to justice.” She shook her head. “Not that my being there matters. Crowley won’t plead guilty.”
“It could be weeks before the trial starts.”
“Or months. His attorneys will use every trick in the book to postpone.”
“Maybe you should stay here.” He was being selfish.
“If I do, I’ll lose my job.”
She had to return to Vegas. He doubted the wages she earned as a wrangler were enough to pay the mortgage on her fancy condo.
“Crowley could still be a threat to you after the arraignment.”
“I have the order of protection. And Detective James thinks Crowley’s attorneys will make sure he stays out of trouble. Besides,” Ruby added, “Scarlett’s coming home soon.”
“Have you talked to her lately?”
“Yesterday. She’s miserable about leaving Demitri.” Ruby grimaced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to rub salt in the wound.”
“I’m over her. I would think you’d figured that out after Saturday night.”
Ruby blushed, the bright pink of her cheeks visible through the many layers of dirt. “We should probably talk about...that.”
“Not if you don’t what to.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“We needed space.”
“I realize the situation with us isn’t ideal.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, a nervous gesture he’d learned to recognize. “It’s a long drive between here and Vegas.”
“Distance isn’t the only problem.” He wished it was.
“I know.” She sighed. “Crowley.”
She was right but not for the reason she thought.
“You’re under my protection, Ruby.”
“You think I’m confusing feeling safe with feeling attraction?”
“No.” Was she? “We need to keep our relationship aboveboard.” And above reproach. “I need to.”
“Is this the ‘it’s me and not you’ speech?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
How did she know? “If things were different...”
She turned away. “Now I’m getting the ‘if things were different’ speech.”
This dilemma was his fault. His doing. He brought it on by kissing her. She had good reason to be angry at him. If he leveled with her, she might understand and be less angry.
Cliff made a snap decision. “Let me take you to dinner at the Paydirt.”
She snatched her hands from her pockets. “I thought we agreed dating wasn’t an option.”
“We did. But what I have to say will be easier over a beer and good food.”
“It’s that terrible?”
He didn’t answer her, except to say, “I’ll swing by the trailer about six.”