Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss. Kelly Boyce

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СКАЧАТЬ right? Miss Connolly, is it?”

      “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. Sheriff Donovan was, in fact, just leaving. Weren’t you, Sheriff?”

      It angered him how much he missed hearing her call him by his name. Sheriff Donovan made it sound like they were strangers, and they were far from that. He didn’t care how many years had passed.

      Burrowing past his anger, however, was the sudden realization that Bancroft had referred to her by name. Strange, given she had only just arrived.

      “Do you know each other?”

      Bancroft’s gaze hit him full force and a strange chill reverberated up his spine. The man was an imposing figure, Hunter would give him that, but this was something else. This was instinct telling him to pay attention, but to what?

      “I ran into Mr. Trent. He indicated Miss Connolly had recently returned to town.”

      The explanation was reasonable. He himself had watched Bertram Trent meet Meredith at the hotel and see her inside. And yet...

      “If you do not require assistance I will bid you good evening, Miss Connolly.” Bancroft touched the brim of his hat and strode down the hallway, his wife dithering after him, his daughter bringing up the rear, her pace much more sedate.

      He turned back to Meredith. She had started to close the door. He stopped the door with his hand this time, garnering another glare.

      “What now?”

      “I don’t believe we were done with our conversation.”

      “I’m quite certain we were.”

      She was probably right. There wasn’t much else to say. He’d asked his questions and she’d reluctantly answered. He was stalling, not ready to cut the fragile connection, one-sided as it was. “So you’re staying. Opening your own business.”

      “Yes.”

      “That’s it?”

      “Oh, well, there is one more thing on my agenda.”

      The way she said it, the corners of her mouth curling upward, made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. It made other parts of his body take notice too, but he was trying to ignore them.

      “And that is?”

      “I plan on proving my father’s innocence once and for all.”

      He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting exactly, but it hadn’t been that. His hand fell away from the door and he took a step back. Meredith didn’t hesitate. She took the opportunity to slam the solid oak door in his face, missing his nose by a mere inch.

      * * *

      Meredith slid down the door. The damask silk of her dress scraped against the smooth wood and bunched on the floor at her feet. Her fingers shook as she plucked at the buttons lining the front of her dress. When she’d freed enough of them she switched her attention to the hooks holding her corset together. She’d often bemoaned her slight frame, but for now she was thankful she didn’t have to cinch her corset within an inch of her life to create the illusion of a small waist. It allowed her the ability to pop the hooks without too much struggle. Bit by bit the constriction released, but her breath did not come any easier.

      Why had he insisted on coming over here? What had he hoped to accomplish? Hadn’t he caused her enough grief upon her exit from Salvation Falls? Was it truly necessary for him to heap more upon her now that she had returned? She knew she had to face him sooner or later, there was no way around it, but could he not have allowed her to arrange the meeting on her terms, in her own time. When she was ready.

      Would she ever have been ready?

      She closed her eyes, but the images that riddled the back of her lids did nothing to ease her state of anxiety. Tangled bodies, hungry mouths, searching hands.

      Her eyelids flew open and she popped a few more hooks for good measure. Her skin burned, scalded by his nearness, by the unexpected assault on her senses. It wasn’t fair.

      But perhaps expecting fairness from the likes of Sheriff Hunter Donovan had been overreaching. If fairness had been a part of his make-up, he would have married her proper. Instead, he’d turned his back on her and sent her to Boston, soiled and used, where no respectable gentleman would even think to offer for her. Not that she would have let them even if they had. Aunt Erma had it right. Better a woman learn to live under her own steam than to rely on something as silly and transitory as love.

       Love.

      She scoffed at the word now, but once upon a time she had believed in it with everything she had in her. Mama and Pa had set the example and she’d grown up in a house filled with love and affection. She’d had every intention of following in their footsteps, even thought she’d found the right man to do that with.

      She’d been wrong.

      Her parents had been the exception to the rule. The rule being that love was not something solid and strong. It was weak and fleeting and deserted you without hint or warning or reason. All it left in its wake were memories, and oh, how those could taunt. She drew up her knees and dropped her forehead to rest against them.

      She had made the right decision to forsake such a fair-weather friend. Besides, she was a businesswoman now. Independent. She didn’t have time for softer emotions or relying on others. It was better that way. Really.

      Oh, but the audacity of Hunter Donovan to show up on her doorstep and demand to know what she was doing here, stirring up everything old and stored away. The bravado! He had no right. No right at all.

      Anger sluiced through her veins and teased her jagged nerves. Seeing him had left her unbalanced. Throughout her trip back to Salvation Falls she had wondered if the years would have left him untouched. They hadn’t. Instead they had honed the young man he’d been into a sharper image, chiseled in the fine details, added layers. The lankiness of youth had been replaced with lean muscle and an air of almighty confidence that told him he had the right to show up at her door and demand answers to his questions.

      What had he seen when he looked at her? She dared glance at the full length mirror on the opposite wall. Her reflection was captured there, undone and pooled in wrinkled silk damask. Had she at least appeared poised when facing him? Or had he been able to see through the facade to how his sudden appearance had rattled her?

      Her fingers tangled into her dress to keep them from shaking, but her insides did not comply. They roiled and twisted around the memories she had buried deep, coaxing them back to the surface. She tried to stuff them back down, but their residue lingered, sweet and intoxicating, bitter and hateful.

      Tomorrow she would have to face him again. To do battle with her memories. Seeing him, standing close enough to touch him made every scar he’d laid across her unruly heart throb with pain and regret.

      How much could a body withstand before it suffered too much? Before the floodgates opened and dropped her to her knees.

      She had a sinking feeling she was on the verge of finding out.

       Chapter СКАЧАТЬ