Her Favorite Wyoming Sheriff
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Cari Lynn Webb
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CHAPTER ONE
“ADELE BLACKWELL KANE, you’re under arrest.”
The familiar deep voice straightened Adele Kane’s spine and knocked her temper forward. Not now. Surely Sheriff McMillan had other criminals to track down in Eagle Springs other than Adele. Again.
Adele pinched her eyes closed and pressed pause on her temper. Temper tantrums were excused in two-year-old toddlers like her twin daughters. Even if Adele’s arrests were beginning to add up and her anger was justified, she had to maintain her composure. Anger only made enemies, and right now, Adele needed allies.
She focused on Dale Davis, the owner of the local shipping and supply store, smiled kindly and set her tone to apologetic. “I’m sorry, Dale, for the interruption. This should only take a minute.”
Behind Adele, another man muttered, “It’s going to take exactly twenty-four hours.”
The raspy voice belonged to Edmond Green, an Eagle Springs town council member who had been present for Adele’s last arrest three weeks ago. In truth, the council member had been present every time Adele had been cited for an infraction or violation of a town ordinance or law over the past several months. She expected to see a volunteer sheriff’s badge on Edmond’s lapel soon.
Adele kept her back to the intruders. She wasn’t entirely certain her temper was fully contained. She’d never been quick-tempered—quite the opposite really; she was usually hard to rile and unable to hold a grudge. Except back then she hadn’t been a single parent, in debt and struggling to sludge through the stress.
She peeked at the stroller beside her, grateful her daughters were quiet, then strengthened her smile for Dale and continued her conversation with the shop owner. “Dale, I do want to hear all the details about how your grandmother broke her hip this past weekend. I also need to know if she prefers chicken potpie or beef stew for dinner.”
Dale collected the assortment of paper that Adele and he had been discussing for Adele’s auction flyers. Flyers that had to be finished if she wanted to spread the word about the Blackwell Auction Barn’s biggest event.
Dale smiled. “Potpie is Nanna Bea’s absolute favorite.”
“Consider the potpie made and delivered.” Adele ignored the impatient shuffling behind her. Nanna Bea was a staple in town and the only soprano still standing in the church choir. Surely her health came before Adele’s arrest. “It’s my great-grandmother’s recipe and is rumored to have healing powers of its own.”
Edmond cleared his throat behind her, as was his long-standing habit. As if the former barber had spent the past five decades trying to clear the Wyoming dust from his throat.
“You’re an angel, Adele.” Dale reached across the counter and touched her arm, then lifted his gaze over her shoulder. “Sheriff, Edmond and Eleanor, I’m quite certain Ms. Kane is innocent.”
“Ms. Kane is innocent of skipping her meeting with Judge Pickett.” This statement came from Eleanor Green, Edmond’s twin sister, fellow town council member and her brother’s constant sidekick.
Adele swung around and finally faced the trio. The Green twins bookended Sheriff McMillan. Eleanor wore one of her ornate hats that belonged on the head of an infield spectator at the Kentucky Derby, not in the two-street town of Eagle Springs. The wide brim of Eleanor’s hat pressed against the sheriff’s stiff shoulder and bent. It was the only thing in the shop that appeared flexible.
Adele tightened her hold on her irritation. But still her heart picked up speed. “My court appearance with Judge Pickett isn’t until next Tuesday.”
“Judge Pickett has cataract surgery scheduled for next Tuesday.” Eleanor squinted at Adele behind her thick, round glasses and raised her voice. As if the higher pitch improved the older woman’s eyesight. “All hearings scheduled next week were moved to this week.”
“I’ll be sure to make an extra chicken potpie for Judge Pickett and her recovery,” Adele added.
Eleanor grinned and nodded her approval. Eagle Springs locals took care of their own. At least, that had always been the town motto.
Adele frowned. “I was never informed about the change of date for my court appearance.”
“Repeated attempts were made to contact you about the rescheduling of your court date.” Edmond rubbed his bald head, as if confirming his repeated attempts to grow his hair had failed, too.
Adele cringed. She hadn’t checked her voice mails in over a week, wanting to avoid the bill collectors’ calls until she could promise a timely payment. And promising a timely payment only happened if she opened the Blackwell auction house to more than chickens and llamas. Opening the auction house to viable cattle sellers and buyers required Adele’s full focus. Those meetings could not happen from a cell inside the sheriff’s station.
She shifted her focus to the one person she believed to be the most reasonable in the trio: Sheriff McMillan.
Barely six months into his term, Sheriff McMillan still kept making an impression. Beyond his height, broad shoulders and serious demeanor, Sheriff McMillan always captured Adele’s full attention. Even as he gave her indigestion for arresting her repeatedly. “Sheriff McMillan, there’s obviously been a misunderstanding.”
Edmond clutched his piece of paper in both hands as if preparing to recite Adele’s rap sheet.
Eleanor shuffled forward. “Judge Pickett issued the bench warrant this morning at precisely 9:25 a.m.”
And exactly twenty-five minutes after Adele’s supposed court appearance with Judge Pickett.
The sheriff’s mouth thinned. Regret eased into the creases around his eyes. His words remained unemotional and neutral. “I have to take you in, Adele.”
Adele swung the twins’ stroller away from the TV that Dale had positioned in their view to allow Adele and him to work uninterrupted. Very few in town were immune from the double dose of cuteness Ivy and Quinn presented. Surely her daughters could sway the sheriff into leniency. Adele peered at the sheriff and stuck a small plea into her words. “This is a really bad time. Can we do this later?”
One corner of the sheriff’s mouth softened into his cheek before his cool gaze returned to Adele. “If you hadn’t missed your court appearance and been issued another bench warrant, I wouldn’t be doing this at all.”
“Can’t Judge Pickett recall the bench warrant?” The good judge had recalled Adele’s last warrant four weeks ago. Adele had been given community service—repainting the gazebo in the town square—rather than a fine she couldn’t pay for violating several town ordinances. Town ordinances she hadn’t known existed—and from Judge Pickett’s surprise, she guessed the judge hadn’t known, either. “I didn’t intentionally skip out on court today.”
Edmond scowled and shook his head. “Intentional or not, you were not in court this morning.”
She’d been working. She had an auction house to open. A business to run. A family to support. And money to raise for her family’s balloon payment on a loan. None of which could happen from jail. Adele gripped the handles on the stroller and pushed the frustration out of her voice. “Shouldn’t I have written warnings or fines first before jail time?”
“You received a dozen written warnings to repair multiple violations on your truck.” Edmond studied her over the paper he clutched.
As if all her offenses could be contained on one single sheet of paper.
Edmond cleared his throat and continued, “To date, you have more than three hundred dollars in unpaid fines.”
That wasn’t as high as she’d expected. Surely there was a law stating the minimum unpaid fine balance had to be over one thousand dollars before arrests were conducted. She glanced from Edmond’s self-satisfied grin to the sheriff.
The sheriff watched her. His face impassive. His body still. Only his gaze was too alert, as if he tracked everyone and every detail inside the shop and out. If he believed arresting Adele was a waste of his time, he offered no tell. Her late husband would’ve admired the sheriff’s discipline and arranged for him to join his weekly poker game. Adele simply wanted the sheriff to arrange to arrest someone else in town. “What about my kids?”
“We can walk back to the station together. You can call a family member to come and pick them up.” The sheriff turned toward the entrance.
“Aren’t you going to put handcuffs on her?” Edmond refolded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.
“I’m not a flight risk,” Adele snapped.
Eleanor blinked and pulled back, adjusting her massive hat as if Adele’s rude tone had offended her and, worse, hurt the older woman’s feelings.
Adele offered a quick apology to the Green twins to soothe their ruffled feathers and held her hands out to the sheriff. “You’ll have to push the stroller now.”
