The Maverick & the Manhattanite. Leanne Banks

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      He touched his hat. “You’re welcome.”

      * * *

      Gage walked to his car and drove to his office, the whole time thinking about Lissa and the spark in her eyes. He could tell she felt bad about driving into the ditch. He just hoped like hell she wouldn’t do the same thing again. When Will had called him with the news, it had given him a jolt. Will had wanted to go after her, but Gage had insisted, and now he was glad he had. Lissa had been well wedged in that ditch.

      Lissa’s combination of determination and humility got to him. She had a twinge of pride, but it didn’t keep her from going after her goals. She made something inside him rumble and burn, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t have time for any sort of attraction or distraction.

      Frowning, he strode into his office building, where a young blonde woman stood. “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to place her. “You look familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gage Christensen, the sheriff,” he said and extended his hand.

      She smiled and accepted his grasp. “I’m Jasmine Cates. I’m from Thunder Canyon. I’ve been helping my brother-in-law Dean with some construction projects here in town.”

      “Thank you for your help,” he said.

      “I’m trying to get in touch with someone by the name of Ann Gilbert. Someone brought some of her furniture in for repair, but the phone number they left is disconnected.”

      Gage felt a shot of loss. “Some people have left town. The flood was too hard on them. Annie Gilbert fell and broke her hip just after the flood. I think she’s been staying in Livingston while she gets back on her feet. I can probably find a way to get in touch with her.”

      “That would be great,” Jasmine said, an expression of relief crossing her face. “Her furniture was beautiful. We really want it returned to her.”

      “Will do,” he said. At that moment, Gary Culbert brought in a casserole dish. “What’s up, Gary?”

      “Edith made some extra chicken potpie and she wanted you to have it. She really appreciated you helping us get our cattle back last week,” the thirty-something-year-old man with a cowlick said. He glanced at Jasmine and tipped his ball cap. “There’s more than enough to share.”

      A moment of silent awkwardness passed and Gage finally met Jasmine’s gaze. He shrugged. “You want to join me for dinner?”

      She bit her lip. “It’s a little early, but...”

      “It’s early for me, too,” Gage said.

      “Well, you could heat it up in the microwave,” Gary said. “This is good stuff. I appreciate you helping us with the cattle, but I was disappointed when Edith insisted I bring you half of what she was baking.”

      Gage chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to tell her I refused her kind offer so you can take it back home with you?”

      “She’d skin me alive,” Gary said.

      “I can come back in an hour or two,” Jasmine said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

      Gage paused a half beat. Well, hell. Maybe Jasmine would keep him from thinking about Lissa. Jasmine didn’t talk as fast as Lissa and she didn’t make his gut twist into a knot. “Yeah,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll see you later, then.”

      For the next two hours, Gage took care of paperwork, answered calls and touched base with Will. It had been a hell of a day. He raked his hand through his hair as Jasmine walked into the office.

      “Rough afternoon?” she asked.

      He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

      “You don’t look—” she smiled “—happy.”

      “Every day is an adventure,” he said, rising to his feet. “Are you ready for that chicken potpie?”

      “Sounds good to me,” she said.

      Gage put the potpie in the microwave and heated it. He pulled out two plates and poured himself a cup a coffee. “We have hot chocolate, coffee and cider. What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

      “Hot chocolate sounds good for tonight. Thank you,” she said.

      “Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the chair across from his desk. He spooned the chicken potpie onto the plates and set her plate across from him then served himself. “So, how does Rust Creek Falls compare to Thunder Canyon?”

      She chuckled. “Rust Creek is a little more rustic, but the people are great. We have a bit more shopping, but the truth is we still do a lot of shopping online.”

      “It’s nice of the folks from Thunder Canyon to come and help us,” he said and took a bite of the potpie. It was delicious, just as Gary had said.

      “We’re connected in many ways,” Jasmine said. “Why wouldn’t we help?”

      He nodded and continued the conversation and the meal, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to thoughts of Lissa. Damn the woman. Images of her red hair and sparkling eyes slid through his mind. Her determination bumped through him. What was going on, he wondered. This was ridiculous.

      Finally, both he and Jasmine had finished the potpie, although he couldn’t have recalled much about their conversation if asked.

      She stood. “This was fun,” she said with a sweet smile.

      “Yeah. It was,” he said, knowing there wouldn’t be a repeat. He couldn’t mislead a nice girl like Jasmine until he got Lissa out of his head. He extended his hand to Jasmine. “Thanks for all you’re doing for us.”

      She blinked and shook his hand as if she weren’t quite sure how to take him. “Um, you’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

      “I’m the sheriff,” he said. “Everyone sees me at one time or another.”

      He sensed her immediate withdrawal and wished he wasn’t so distracted by Lissa.

      She nodded. “Have a nice night.”

      Fat chance, he thought.

      * * *

      Lissa leaped off her bed in shock as her alarm sounded the next morning. She still hadn’t made the adjustment to Mountain Time. Plus it didn’t help that she had driven Melba’s car into a snowy ditch yesterday. Even more embarrassing was that Gage had rescued her. She didn’t want him to view her as incompetent or a pain in the rear. She hadn’t helped her case by going out in the snow yesterday, but she was too impatient to wait to be chauffeured. There was too much to be done.

      Taking a quick shower, she pulled on her clothes and sneaked down the back steps. Avoiding the temptation of Melba’s full breakfast, she scarfed down a granola bar. The temperature was higher than yesterday, but still cold. She blew into the air and saw her own vapor. In Manhattan, she would have worn a hat, gloves and scarf. Today, she wore the same, but it felt more freakin’ freezing. The subway was a lot warmer СКАЧАТЬ