Her Sheriff Bodyguard. Lynna Banning

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       Chapter Seven

      Caroline stepped down onto the ground and grabbed for Fernanda’s steadying hand. Her legs were stiff, a headache pounded in her temples and her bottom was numb from hours and hours perched on the hard leather bench. Behind them, the man who’d introduced himself as Mr. Overby jerked awake and snuffled. “Ah, dinner,” he exclaimed.

      She doubted she could eat anything after jouncing along in the stifling heat but she could surely drink something; her throat was dry and scratchy as sandpaper. And her nerves were jumpy.

      Fernanda conducted her into the tiny station, asked for water and walked on through straight to the necessary. When they returned, their host, a grizzled old man with a greasy apron looped around his waist, showed them to a rough wood table and dished up bowls of what looked like stew. Caroline picked up her spoon and immediately set it down and pushed the bowl away.

      “You must eat, mi corazón. We have many miles ahead.”

      She couldn’t. Caroline drank glass after glass of water, but her stomach was too unsettled for food. She watched Mr. Overby shovel in huge mouthfuls of his meal until he looked up.

      “What are you staring at, miss?”

      Caroline jerked. “Nothing.” She turned her gaze away and Hawk Rivera slid in beside her, bringing with him the scent of leather and sweat. She much preferred it over the cologne-heavy smell of Mr. Overby. In fact she was beginning to like the way the sheriff smelled, like a man instead of a candy shop. She wished he would sit inside the coach with them.

      “Stew any good?” he queried.

      “I wouldn’t know. I cannot eat it.”

      He snaked out his hand and pulled her bowl back to her. “Try,” he ordered. “Making speeches takes strength.”

      “Do not tell me you like my speeches?” She worked to keep the surprise out of her voice.

      He set his tall glass of water onto the table. “No, I don’t.”

      Fernanda looked at him from across the table. “Que? You do not like?”

      Their driver tramped in through the door. “Aha, supper! Thought I was gonna starve to death afore we got here. Food any good, Hawk?”

      “Yeah.” He slanted a look at Fernanda. “And no, I do not like the speeches.”

      Caroline leaned toward him. “Why not?” she intoned.

      “Doesn’t matter.”

      “But it does matter,” she protested.

      “Not to me.”

      She sat back and sucked in her breath. “Then why are you...? Oh, of course. You are a lawman. An ex-Texas Ranger, Fernanda said. You feel...responsible.”

      Somehow that made her angry. So angry that without thinking she jammed her spoon into the bowl of stew and swallowed down a bite. Beside her, Rivera dipped his head and chuckled.

      Well! At least she had cracked that imperturbable demeanor of his.

      “It’s true I don’t like your speeches,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t let it bother you.”

      “What? Of course it bothers me.”

      He laid down his spoon and looked directly at her. “Why?”

      She opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. “Why” was a very good question. She should not care what this man thought of her speeches. Or her ideas. Or her.

      “Shouldn’t bother you,” he reiterated.

      “No,” she murmured, “it shouldn’t. I will address that issue on the remainder of our trip to Oakridge.”

      “Might do better to get some sleep,” he said.

      “That,” she said crisply, “is difficult.”

      He resumed eating. “Yeah, probably СКАЧАТЬ