His Holiday Bride. Jillian Hart
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“Did the tape help? Or is your side mirror still dangling in the wind?”
“It is fixed for now.” He released his hold on the roll and stepped back, giving her the once-over. He’d thought her magnificent on her horse with the sun at her back, framed by a perfect blue sky. But without her Stetson, her strawberry-blond hair tumbled around her face and shoulders in a soft cascade. Her features were scrubbed clean, her complexion perfect. She was girl-next-door wholesome in an ivory sweater and jeans. He liked this side of her, too. “You clean up nice, Miss Granger. Very nice. I almost didn’t recognize you without your .45.”
“I only wear it when I’m working. Usually there’s no need to scare off varmints in the diner.”
“I hope you’re not hinting that I’m a varmint.”
“Who, me?”
He liked her sense of humor, too. Out of the corner of his vision, he spied the waitress setting his burger and fries on the corner table in the back. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Miss Granger. Something tells me you are trouble waiting to happen.”
“Me, trouble?”
The young women at the table began to laugh. “It’s true,” the black-haired woman said. “Disaster finds you, Autumn.”
“Trouble has always been her middle name,” the brown-haired one agreed merrily.
“I’m not that bad.” Autumn had a cute gleam in her eye.
He lifted his hand in farewell, reluctant to turn around and walk away, but he didn’t want to keep blocking the aisle. He couldn’t explain the spark of interest in her or the weighing disappointment as he turned on his heel and left her behind.
“He’s not ugly,” Merritt whispered over ice cream sundaes. “I’ve thought about it all through the meal, and I can’t see it. You don’t think he’s gorgeous?”
This was not what she wanted to discuss, thanks. Autumn took a big bite of syrup-covered ice cream, knowing full well the sting of brain pain was coming. But did she care?
No. Bring on the agony. It was better than having to admit the truth to her friends.
“He’s a hunk.” Caroline licked the syrup off her spoon.
“A hunky hunk.”
“Fine. So he’s gorgeous.” She rubbed her forehead—ow—and kept her voice low. No way was she going to take the risk that their conversation might carry across the noisy Friday night crowd to Ford Sherman’s no doubt supersensitive ears. Everything about him looked superior, why not his hearing?
“Then he’s all yours.” Caroline plunged her spoon into her butterscotch sundae. “I think he likes you.”
“Why do you say that?” He couldn’t like her. He didn’t know her.
“Because he keeps stealing glances this way, and he’s not looking at me.” Caroline stirred her sundae around. “That’s it, I’m stuffed.”
“Me, too.” Merritt gave up on her dessert with a sigh.
Autumn scraped the bottom of the glass bowl with her spoon and licked the last drop of fudge. After divvying up the check, leaving a pile of bills and change on the table, they filed out of the booth and down the aisle. It took all her willpower not to glance over her shoulder. She didn’t have to look to know Ford was watching her. The force of his gaze settled on her back like a dead weight. Best to ignore it.
The crisp evening air greeted her as she ambled along the sidewalk. A motorcycle rumbled down the road, the only traffic on the street. A dog barked somewhere on the residential blocks behind the diner. The nape of her neck tingled. Was the sheriff tracking her as she passed in front of the window?
“Something’s wrong with your truck.” Caroline noticed it as she set her purse on the hood of her car. “Your tire is flat.”
“All of them are.” Merritt squinted at the damage.
“What?” She’d been so busy wondering about Ford that she hadn’t noticed her truck. Deflated rounds of rubber sagged tiredly against the pavement, all the air gone. She’d never seen such flat tires. Had she run over something in the road? She knelt to get a good look, and her heart slammed to a stop. A neat cut sliced the upper curve of the front tire.
A slice, not a nail or a screw or anything like that. Someone had done this on purpose. Judging by the size of the gash, whoever had done this must have used a bowie knife.
“It’s the same back here.” Merritt had spotted the slit in the back tire. “Who would do something like this? We were close by the whole time.”
“I should have seen it from my seat.” Should have, yes. Why hadn’t she? Because she spent the whole meal fixated on the new sheriff and trying not to be, there had been little attention left over to notice anything other than her friends. What had happened to her decision not to think about him?
“We are currently sheriff-less, right?” Caroline shrugged, glancing down the road to the closed up sheriff’s office. “The old guy is gone, and the hunky one isn’t officially at work yet. So do we bother him? Who do we call?”
“No idea. I need Loren and his wrecker.” Shock pulsed through her in little beats. Lord, I know You’re in charge but who would have done such a thing? And why? She swallowed, pulling her thoughts together. She needed a working truck. Loren had the only tow truck in thirty-five miles. “Here’s hoping he has the right tires in stock.”
“I can give you a lift home,” Merritt spoke up.
“Thanks.” She couldn’t stop staring at the knife slit. Wild Horse was a small town and a friendly one. There wasn’t a whole lot of crime. Few people in these parts would disable a ranch truck. She couldn’t think of a single person who would.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” Ford ambled out of the diner.
“A small one.” Of course, it would have to be him.
“Let me take a look.” He eased down next to her, squinting hard at the knife slash. “Looks like you’ve got trouble here. Is there anything you want to tell me about?”
“Like what?”
“Crazy ex-boyfriend, a long-standing feud, someone who has a grudge against you?”
“Not for a long time, no, and not that I know of.” She swiped a lock of red-gold hair out of her eyes. “This is deliberate. No one else’s tires are slashed.”
“I noticed.” Considering every car on the street was clustered around the diner, it was obvious. He knelt down to take a closer look at the angry gash in the rubber. Someone sure didn’t like Autumn. “Anything unusual happen lately?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, except for meeting you.”
Was that a hint of a grin on her lips? He wasn’t prepared for the sight of Autumn smiling. He was a professional, even if he wasn’t on the clock yet. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to have unprofessional thoughts about her centering on conversation with candlelight and a nice steak. She’d turned him down once, but she hadn’t sounded one hundred percent final. There had been a glimmer in her eyes.
“I didn’t do this, as you know. I also have an alibi.” He slipped the paperback he carried into his rear pocket. “I was in the thick of Larry McMurtry. But I’ll find out who did.”
“If someone saw something, they would have said so. This isn’t a big city. People don’t look the other way here.” Her gaze met his, and the force of it was like the sun and moon colliding. Hard to think straight when such a pretty woman was waiting for an intelligent remark. It was even harder to pretend he was stone-cold granite, professional and unaffected.
“Hey, you! What’s going on over there?” someone called out. A shadow fell across him. Ford