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“And if you want more eccentric spice trivia,” I offered, “come back tomorrow.”
At that, he grinned wide and nodded again before turning and walking out of the house in his long, possessing strides. I couldn’t help but stare at his butt as he walked away. His jeans fit him perfectly. What did that body look like without them? What did it look like when he did dirty things…?
And would I ever get up the nerve to find out? Maybe it was possible to let him do those things to me without letting him get close enough to cause real problems.
Instead of heading back into the garden to plant the cumin seeds, I decided to head into town to give my eyewitness report to the sheriff’s office before I lost my nerve. Hearing Sam lie about other witnesses made me realize how much of a coward he must have thought I was. The least I could do was support his complaint to have his bike repairs paid for by the responsible party.
Even if that party was someone who wanted to beat me to a pulp.
I ignored the nerves in my gut while I quickly changed into clothes that would bolster my confidence. Khaki pants, a plaid button-down shirt, and a deep blue bow tie Aunt Berry had sent me for my seventeenth birthday.
Thankfully, Sheriff Stanner wasn’t there when I showed up to make my statement. A stern-faced deputy I’d never met before took me back to his small office to fill out the paperwork.
“I’m Deputy Declan Stone,” he said, all business. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
He must have been new in Rockley County because he treated me like a regular person. There were no derisive smirks or poorly disguised sneers. He simply took my statement as straightforwardly as possible, only stopping for a moment when I mentioned the driver of the truck.
“Patrick Stanner? Any relation to the sheriff?”
At that point, I was sure he was new. Everyone knew Patrick and his brother, Craig. They were troublemakers and assholes. If their uncle hadn’t been sheriff, they’d have law enforcement files several inches thick by now.
“His nephew. You don’t know him?”
Deputy Stone shook his head. “I transferred in a few weeks ago from LA. Just getting settled.” He looked up at me. I assumed he was close to forty, but he looked good for it. Some salt sprinkled into his pepper and a few lines around his eyes. The man looked ex-military by the stiff way he carried himself and the closely shorn hair. Something about him gave me a tiny amount of hope that there might be at least one non-partial member of the department.
“Welcome to Aster Valley,” I said politely. “It’s a lovely place to live.”
The twenty minutes I spent with him were cordial but professional. I wished I knew him well enough to be able to confide my history with the Stanners to him and ask for his professional help in dealing with the sheriff’s bias, but I didn’t. And I also had no desire to put the poor deputy between a rock and a hard place.
So I left the sheriff’s department and headed back into town to check in with Chaya, who’d agreed to open the shop for the afternoon and do some inventory work.
“Hiya, sweet thing,” she called from the back table when I walked in. The familiar scent of mixed spices and herbs was as comforting to me as sliding into my own bed at night. I took a deep inhale and let my shoulders drop.
“How was the riding lesson?” I asked, straightening a few bottles and jars on one of the front shelves.
“True confession time,” she said, leaving her work behind and making her way around the display tables to where I stood. “I’m in love with one of Nina’s cowboys.”
I laughed. That explained why my friend who hated getting dirty was interested in a dusty horse ride. “Which one? Because Hank Jolly is married, and Mato Pietaker is intimidating as heck.”
She grabbed my hand and danced me to the middle of the store. “Nick Humphrey, Nina’s nephew from California. And he’s neither of those things. He asked me back to the ranch for a cookout tomorrow night and said I could invite anyone I wanted.”
The bell over the door rang, but I was too busy trying to clear my head from the sudden twirl and dip maneuver to greet the customer. Chaya threw a smile in the general direction of the front door before asking if I wanted to come to the ranch barbecue.
“No, thanks. I have dinner plans with Sam,” I said while still a little dizzy from the dancing.
Chaya’s squeal of excitement was joined by a familiar clearing of the throat.
Barney.
“Oh, sorry, Barney,” I said, brushing my hair back from my eyes and straightening my glasses. “I didn’t realize that was you.”
