The Sheriff. Jan Hudson
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See, the courthouse is in the middle and the streets make a square around it.”
As the bus drove away, a tan sheriff’s car pulled up. The door opened and a tall man in a black cowboy hat climbed out. Mary Beth thought his slow, deliberate movements seemed familiar. Broad-shouldered and ruggedly handsome, he walked as if he owned the place. When he started toward her, a big grin spread across his face.
Her heart almost stopped. It was the grin that she recognized—that Outlaw grin. The years had been kind to him; they had etched his face with character, changing him from a boy to a man.
Automatically her hand started to her hair, then she forced it back down. She looked as if she’d been pulled through a knothole backward and she knew it. She’d hoped to have time to prepare herself before running into him. Actually, she was hoping that he had moved to Houston or Topeka—somewhere far away so that she wouldn’t have to face him in her humiliation. But there he stood, sexy as all get-out, and her looking like a frump in rumpled clothes with sleep in her eyes. There was nothing to do but keep her chin up and play it cool.
“Mary Beth Beams? Darlin’, is that you?”
“J.J.?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.
“In the flesh,” he said, taking her into his arms in a bear hug.
The crutches made hugging him difficult, but she gave it her best shot. It felt so good to be in a strong, masculine embrace—so darned good. The years seemed to roll away. She was a girl again, secure in familiar arms.
“You look great,” he said, “but what in the world happened to your foot?”
“I broke it. A really stupid accident.”
She felt a tug on her jacket and looked down.
“Who’s he?” Katy asked in a loud whisper.
Mary Beth stepped away, grateful that her daughter had pulled her back to reality. J.J. seemed happy to see her, but she was sure the man hadn’t spent all this time pining for her. In fact, an old pain slashed through her as she recalled he hadn’t even pined for her a full day when she’d broken up with him all those years ago. But those days were long past. He probably had a wife and four kids by now. “This is J. J. Outlaw, an old friend of mine. J.J., this is my daughter, Katy.”
He grinned down at Katy, who was looking him over quite thoroughly, and tipped his hat. “Delighted to meet you, Miss Katy. Welcome to Naconiche.”
Katy frowned, inched closer to Mary Beth and said, “Are you a real outlaw? Outlaws are bad guys.”
J.J. chuckled. “My last name is Outlaw, but I’m one of the good guys. I’m the county sheriff.”
“Is that why you have a gun?”
He nodded gravely. “For emergencies. In case I meet up with any real bad guys.”
“Do you put people in the pokey? My daddy—”
Horrified at what her daughter was about to blurt out, Mary Beth clamped her hand over Katy’s mouth. “You’re the sheriff now? I thought your father would be sheriff forever.”
J.J. laughed. “I was beginning to think that, too, but he retired last year, and I ran for his job and won the election.”
“It’s great to see you again,” Mary Beth said, trying her best to act casual. Seeing J.J. again aroused a legion of conflicting feelings inside her, and her emotions were already stretched dangerously thin after a grueling seventeen-hour bus trip. He’d once been the love of her life…. She couldn’t deal with him right now, she thought, looking around. “Mr. Murdock was supposed to meet us, but I don’t see him. Where is his office?”
“On the other side of the square.” J.J. motioned across the way. “But he’s in court right now, and no telling when he’ll be done. He asked me to meet you and get you settled.”
Her heart hit the pavement. Since it seemed that there was no escaping him, she pushed all her memories and muddled emotions behind a thick door and locked it. Lifting her chin and giving him a perky smile, she said, “Why, isn’t that sweet of you, J.J.”
“No problem. Will you be staying at Ouida’s Bed-and-Breakfast?”
Surprised by his question, Mary Beth said, “I—I don’t know where we’ll be staying. I had assumed that we could stay at the motel, but I suppose it might be full.”
“The motel?”
“Yes, The Twilight Inn. I inherited it, you know. The motel and the restaurant next door. Marjorie Bartlett owned it, but she died a few months ago and left it to me. Well, she actually didn’t leave it to me…or to anybody. She had Alzheimer’s and had been in a nursing home for years, but she was my father’s cousin and I’m the only relative left on his side of the family. On either side, really. Since my folks died, I’m it, except for some of my mom’s cousins in Bremerton, Washington, and I’ve never met any of them. Truthfully, I barely remembered Cousin Marjorie, but I’m extremely thankful to have inherited her property.” She laughed. “Sorry, I’m babbling, but I’m very tired. I’m eager to get settled at the motel and soak in a warm bath.”
J.J. looked puzzled and was about to say something when Katy tugged her mother’s jacket again and pointed. “Look, Mommy! There’s a giant ice-cream cone in front of that store.”
“The Double Dip,” Mary Beth said, smiling. “Is that place still operating?”
“Sure is,” J.J. said. “My mother runs it now.”
“Do they sell ice cream? Could I have some, please, please, please?” Katy danced around as she pleaded.
J.J. hoisted Katy up into his arms, “’Course you can, Miss Katy. I’ll treat you and your mother to ice cream while we wait for Mr. Murdock to finish his case. Is that okay, Mary Beth? Mama would love to see you.”
“Please, Mommy. Please, please, please. Could I have chocolate with sprinkles?”
Mary Beth stroked a wayward curl from Katy’s forehead and smiled. “Okay.” She glanced at her luggage. “But what will we do with our bags?”
“Wally!” J.J. shouted, it seemed like to no one in particular. “Keep an eye on Mary Beth’s stuff, will you?”
“Yep,” a voice answered from behind a stack of feed sacks.
“This way, ladies,” J.J. said, slipping his free hand under Mary Beth’s elbow as she hobbled along the sidewalk. “Wait, I forgot about your foot. Should I drive you over?”
“Heavens, no. It’s only half a block, and I’m tired of sitting. I need to stretch.”
As they walked, slowly because of the crutches, Katy chattered a mile a minute—about their bus ride, about her dolls, about her best friend Emily in Natchez, but not, thank goodness, about her daddy. It was bad enough that the homecoming queen had returned practically penniless, but Mary Beth wasn’t ready to announce to everyone in her old hometown that her ex-husband was in prison.
The pressure of J.J.’s hand was steady and secure. Steady. Secure. Rock solid. She could feel the staggering weight of two years of stress begin to ease.
Had it been two years? It seemed like a lifetime ago that the police had come for her husband and his name was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Shocked by Brad’s subsequent indictment for embezzlement, she’d been quickly hit with the fact that they were in debt up to their eyebrows. Brad had always insisted on handling the finances and, like a fool, she’d trusted him. And like a fool she’d never questioned how he supported their lavish lifestyle and his gambling habit. He’d gone to prison, and the mortgage company had foreclosed on their beautiful home. Most of their assets had gone for attorney fees and toward restitution. She’d been left only with her car, part of the furniture that was paid for and her personal possessions—what she hadn’t hocked to pay the utilities.
She