Snowbound with the Sheriff Page 9

  “What’s there to catch up on?” Gertie asked. Her tone was neutral, but her eyes flashed with challenge.

  “You seem a little misinformed about why I came home, and—”

  “Oh, I know why you came home. It’s all over the news.”

  Stella’s cheeks went numb. She’d seen the rumor reports this morning, but she hadn’t thought anyone would clue in so quickly. And her name hadn’t been mentioned...

  Be chill. “Not sure what you mean.”

  “Oh, lordy,” Gertie muttered.

  Ryan locked gazes with her, questioning, probing.

  She looked away. Since when had he become so observant about her emotional state?

  Give him some credit. Their relationship may have ended with silence and rejection, but before that, he’d cared for her feelings. He’d been mad at the world in high school, but never at her. So much so that she’d shared everything with him, in the loft of this barn, back when it still stretched the length of what was now the multipurpose area. They’d fumbled their way, finding pleasure, joy, surprise. Making foolish promises.

  And when he’d told her he was ending it, and actually stuck to it, she’d made promises to herself. Mainly, in young, hyperbolic fashion, that she’d hate his guts forever.

  Also foolish—obviously that was pointless. And, hell, maybe he’d been the brave one. Seeing reality, that they weren’t suited.

  Did he see through her now, too?

  She shivered. This barn was too small for the both of them. “I wonder if there’s anything outside that needs doing. The landscaping took a beating, could use some attention.”

  Ryan and Gertie both looked at her like she was off her rocker.

  “Bit hard to landscape when the ground’s frozen,” Ryan said.

  “I know,” she retorted.

  “You always knew best, didn’t you?” Gertie said. “Leaving with barely a word. Hurting your family by staying away.”

  “Seriously?” Stella did not need snide comments from Gertie when it was her grandson who’d left first. “I think we need to clear up a few things.”

  “Incorrect,” Gertie said, calmly drawing marks on a sheet of drywall.

  Of all the stubborn—

  Ryan’s hand landed on Stella’s shoulder. Strong and steady, on the surface. But he wasn’t. Or at least he hadn’t been when it mattered. Nor had she, for that matter—the reason Gertie’s accusations pricked so deeply was the truth in them.

  He leaned in close. “Just leave it for now, okay? I’ll talk to her later.”

  Tearing herself away from his grip, from the temptation to lean into his reassuring strength, she snapped, “What, you get to speak your mind and I don’t?”

  “Let’s not—” He jammed his hand into his hair and didn’t continue.

  Gertie narrowed her eyes. “What’s there to explain? Your company’s going under and you’re involved in it, so you’re trying to hide out here.”

  “What?” That’s what Gertie had taken from the brief speculation on the news today? Frustration tore through Stella. What she’d give to be able to defend herself. But she couldn’t say a word.

  Fine. If the older woman wanted to draw false conclusions, might as well give her something equally untrue to chew on.

  Forcing a smile, she settled a hand on Ryan’s biceps. Heat spread from her fingers to her arm, threatening to spill to her core. She breathed, ignoring the tease of touching him. “I left your jacket in my rental. I’ll run out and get it.”

  The jaw-dropped dismay on Gertie’s face was so worth the cost of cupping that rock-hard biceps.

  Was it really?

  Okay, maybe not. Her hand was threatening to develop a mind of its own and slide across to his chest to test whether his pecs were as taut as his arm muscles. Squeezing a little tighter to resist the urge, she smiled at Gertie. “Excuse me for a second.”

  She headed for the door. Heavy, booted footsteps followed.

  Cold air slapped her face as she opened the door and tucked her hands inside her sleeves.

  “Stella.” Ryan caught her elbow. “What was that?”

  She shivered from his touch.

  Okay, this was ridiculous. She’d survived in one of the most high-pressure jobs on Wall Street. Why the hell was she shaky from having her former high-school boyfriend touch her arm?

  She schooled her features and ignored the tempting pressure of his palm. “Pretty sure that was your grandmother and me competing for the petty crown. What did you think it was?”

  Regret flickered in his eyes and he scrubbed a hand down his face. “If people get the wrong idea and it gets back to Georgie Halloran—”

  “Why is she up in your business, anyway?” she interrupted, turning around the back corner of the veterinary clinic, the squat little house her grandfather had purchased and converted early in his career.

  “She’s one of my major campaign supporters, and needs me to be wholeheartedly devoted to Sutter County.”

  She shot him a look. “And me being in town affects that how?”

  “You’ve been gone a while.”

  “Exactly. Long enough for people to forget we ever dated.”

  Shaking his head, he let out another disbelieving laugh. “It’s been so long since anyone saw you, they have no frame of reference. They still connect you to me, because they don’t have a new picture of who you are.”

  Which meant either being connected to Ryan in perpetuity, or letting people see who she was now. “I’m not sure I know who I am.”

  He paused, speaking cautiously after a few beats of silence. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Oh, dear. She really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She rounded the front of the clinic and opened the hatch of her SUV with the key fob. Once the door lifted all the way, she leaned against the bumper, crossing her arms over her borrowed sweatshirt. The quiet side street was empty, as always. And right across the street was Maggie’s yard. Snow covered the rhodos and flower beds, but it looked like her half sister had been keeping up with their grandparents’ green-thumb ways since taking over the house. Not a gene Stella had inherited.

  “Stella?” Ryan prodded, hitching a hip next to her. He had to duck to fit under the hatch, and the angle brought him close to her. In another life, she would have palmed his cheek and stolen a kiss.

  Instead, she exhaled and pretended she had no interest in seeing if he still tasted like mint Tic Tacs. “I’m assuming your grandmother filled you in on what she saw on the news today?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t talk about it,” she said.

  He grimaced. “Then don’t.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Fussing with a hangnail on her thumb, she avoided his gaze. She could at least tell him what she’d told Maggie and Lachlan. It wasn’t covered under her NDA. “I don’t know if I have a job to go back to.”

  He made a face. “Based on what I heard on the news today, why do you want to go back to that?”

  She carefully thought over how to phrase her answer. “Most of the people in my industry are ethical. Competitive, yes. But trustworthy. And I excel at my job. I fit in.”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “Can’t be that good a fit if you needed to escape,” he said gently.

  “I didn’t—” Ugh, enough of sounding defensive. “I’m on vacation. But lucky for you and your now-sterling reputation, I’m only staying a few weeks.”

  “Gran’s convinced you’re up to no good.”

  She grimaced. “And you think so, too.”

  “No, but for the sake of her staying off my back, could you not provoke her?”

  “I’m not going to take her crap lying down, Ryan.” She bristled, remembering Gertie’s tone today. “She�
�s being unfair. I wasn’t even planning on contacting you during this visit—it’s a fluke that we’ve seen each other so much. I’m supposed to be focusing on Lachlan and Marisol and their families, not you.”

  “Their families are your family, Stell.” He settled a hand between her shoulder blades and rubbed a slow circle.

  Stupid, being affectionate in a public place. But it felt too good to remind him.

  “That remains to be seen. I don’t know them well yet. But the thought of bonding with my half siblings is nice. The fire was a bit of a wake-up call. Except, I—”

  Her thoughts whirled, and she stared at Ryan, let herself get sucked into his deep blue gaze for a second. Once upon a time, she’d confessed all her insecurities to him. Did he remember? Would he recognize the doubt on her face? She fisted her hands to stop from twisting her fingers together, an old, bad habit she’d broken when she realized making it in finance would mean hiding her feelings.

  “I think they want to get closer, too,” he said softly.

  And if they didn’t? She feigned nonchalance. “Is it really worth the effort with everyone? Once I’m gone, they’ll forget about me all over again.”

  “They never forgot, Stella.” He cleared his throat and brushed a thumb along her jaw. “Neither did I. Never have, never will.”

  His thumb traced perilously close to the corner of her mouth, and he leaned in. She hadn’t forgotten this, that was for sure. Breath brushing across lips. Calloused fingers drawing a lazy pattern—

  “Wait, what are we doing?” She sprang back, whacking her head on the hatch in the process. “Ouch.” She rubbed the aching spot.

  “Not thinking, that’s for sure.” He rubbed his jaw. “Kinda wish you’d come to your senses about ten seconds later, though.”

  She grabbed his jacket from where it was draped over the back seat and shoved it at him, then put her hands on her hips. “You forgot about me easily enough when you turned me away from that ranch.”

  His eyes shuttered closed. “Crap, Stella, I’m so sorry...”

  “You should be.” In more ways than he knew. “Doesn’t mean you were wrong about the end result, though. I’m not the small-town girl you need.”

  And if she gave in and kissed him, even for curiosity’s sake, she’d be leaving Sutter Creek in more turmoil than when she arrived.

  Chapter Eight

  “I read that some huge ethics scandal is being covered up. She must have been involved if she’s back here.”

  Gertie Rafferty’s ears perked up at the conversation behind her. She slapped a rag on the bakery table she was wiping down, recognizing the chatty trio as contemporaries of Ryan’s back in high school. Not that the group clustered at the wall-length bistro bar would have given him the time of day back then. His sulky, standoffish routine hadn’t endeared him to the popular crowd, no matter how good-looking he’d been as a boy. He’d had to learn to glad-hand. Stella had been the one all the other kids had wanted to emulate. Not anymore, apparently. She was keeping the gossip fires burning today.

  “And did you see the way she was looking at Sheriff Rafferty when they were in here a few days ago? I bet they’re still hooking up.”

  “He’d know all about scandals.”

  The tittering laughs made the hair on the back of Gertie’s neck rise, and she scrubbed the table harder. The nerve of them, coming into her family’s bakery and churning up trouble.

  “Ethics, too,” the lone man in the group interjected. “Right up Rafferty’s alley.”

  Oh, that was it.

  “The white doesn’t come off, you know.” A smooth male voice interrupted her, just as she opened her mouth to pelt the group with a piece of her mind.

  She turned and fixed Tom Reid with a scolding look. “They’re cream, not white. And if I didn’t scrub them, they’d turn beige in a week.”

  He chuckled. A short goatee framed his friendly smile. The man was as handsome at all get-out with his full head of white hair and military-grade posture. He’d been out on the ski hill enough since he came back to town that he’d kept his Arizona tan. Things she should not be noticing, given he was well and truly taken by a sixtysomething blond bombshell he’d met on the Arizona golf links. Far as Gertie knew, he’d be returning to his sunshine home as soon as Maggie could go back to work full-time.

  “Your Nancy knows how to wipe a table,” he said. “I’m sure she and Viv would be fine without you hovering.”

  Her daughters were exceedingly competent; the bakery brought in a profit far higher than it had when Gertie had been at the helm. She might have fallen short when it came to raising her son, but Viv and Nancy proved she’d had some successes among her failures. As did Ryan. He was a heck of a credit to their family. Though he’d done most of that himself... Her throat pinched. She’d officially reached the point in her life where she was expendable. A rotten realization. And just because Tom had his new life down in Arizona didn’t give him the right to poke fingers at hers. “When are you planning to fly south again?”

  His lips turned down at the corners. “Maybe never.”

  “Oh?” Curiosity pulled at her.

  He took a drink from his coffee cup and motioned at the seat across from him.

  Giving the empty table a final wipe, she folded the rag and placed it on the corner of Tom’s table before sitting in the proffered chair.

  A peal of laughter erupted from the trio at the wall counter, and she crossed her arms and glared at them.

  “Well now, Gertie, can’t point fingers at that group for passing around news when you’re eager to hear my latest.”

  “It’s different.” She clenched her hands, wishing she could give her short hair a pat to check for strays, but she didn’t want to touch it after just holding a cleaning cloth. “I’m merely intrigued by the goings-on of a friend. They’re being malicious—about your granddaughter as much as my Ryan, I’d point out. Throwing around words like scandal and ethics.”

  Stella had been in town for four days, and as much as her appearance was giving everyone something to chat about over their morning croissants, Tom’s arrival two months ago had been discussed almost as much. Half of the members of Gertie’s book club were pretending their tabbies and Pomeranians were ill. Any excuse to book an appointment with Dr. Tom.

  “I’m hoping that things will turn around for said granddaughter,” he said. “She can’t talk about whatever is going on, apparently. But I’m worried.”

  Well, that did nothing to quell her curiosity, but she could respect the need for privacy. Given the piece she’d seen on CNN, more details would be made public soon.

  “There was a vague news report,” she confided. “And who knows with that generation. Facebook and Instagram and Snapchat and no sense of the damage that can be done. In our day, we at least had to talk about people to their faces.” She grinned sheepishly.

  Tom laughed.

  Lordy, it felt good to make a man laugh.

  Ridiculous, Gertie. She only had so much time in a day, and needed to focus on her family, not on Tom Reid’s handsome grin.

  She shook her head. “I thought she’d put Sutter Creek well and truly past her.”

  “As did I. But something’s changed,” he mused, taking a small bite of his pastry and swallowing. “Mmm, that’s almost as good as when you made them.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we had a family dinner the other night. Lachlan was fussing over Marisol and the baby, and Maggie had stars in her eyes for her new beau. Stella was on the sidelines. And for the first time, I saw hints that she wanted to join the game, but didn’t know how. Especially when Ryan showed up.”

  “My grandson wants nothing to do with her,” she snapped.

  “You can’t believe that.” He fiddled with the handle of his coffee mug. “He looks at her like a man who wants everything to do with her.”

  She gritted her te
eth. “He’d better not. Those two are not good for each other.”

  “I don’t know, Gertie. They’re adults. Lots of history behind them, sure, but it could be fixable—”

  “It’s not about their history, it’s about their present! Neither of them needs what the other has to offer.” And Ryan could be downright harmed by whatever was going on in Stella’s life.

  A tiny smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and he smoothed his beard.

  Her heart skipped. Oh, stop it. It did not. It’s probably angina.

  “We appear to be on opposite sides of the field,” he said.

  They were. And she needed to change that. “You and your sports analogies. Does Carol hate them as much as Mary did?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Carol doesn’t get to have an opinion on my speech peculiarities anymore.”

  “Oh?” Hope leaped in her chest. She’d never thought Tom’s new woman worthy of his many charms. Silly, really. The pair had sounded well-suited.

  Except Gertie preferred it when those charms were directed her own way. Not that she wanted to spend any of her precious few years left on romance. Too much of her life had been centered around keeping a man happy. But before Tom had left for Arizona, he’d made coming in for coffee part of his morning routine. And on the days when she helped out around the bakery, she’d enjoyed the five minutes that he’d focused all his attention on her.

  Like now. His brown eyes fixed on her as if he was trying to figure out her secrets. Ha. Pointless, that quest. She didn’t have secrets for him to discover.

  Except for how much I enjoy his company...

  “When I mentioned I wanted to come home for a spell to help out the grandkids, Carol took great offense to me canceling our trip to Europe. A river cruise, you know.”

  “I heard.”

  He smiled. “Of course, you did. Anyway, she didn’t want to delay. And I can’t blame her for that—obviously, guaranteed days are fewer when you’re our age.”

  “You’re young, compared to me,” she commented. Tom was ten years younger than her own eighty-four.