Her Cowboy Sheriff. Leigh Riker

Чтение книги онлайн.

      “I’m saying you need to think of Emmie’s welfare.” This from someone who didn’t have children, but Finn made her feel guilty anyway.

      “You sound like Sierra, but I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “I’ll do what’s right for Emmie—and for me.”

      Finn put his sunglasses back on, started for the hallway then stopped. “And I’m sure Emmie trusts you to do just that. Sierra, too. Everyone in Barren does, Annabelle, and people rely on you too much. Doesn’t leave you any protection for yourself.” He glanced back over his shoulder, catching her with an astonished look on her face. “But don’t let Emmie down.”

      She wasn’t accustomed to validation from anyone—and not from a man who’d also implied she wasn’t doing a very good job. That she didn’t care enough about Emmie. Coming from Finn, rather than Sierra, that hurt even more.

      She watched until he disappeared around the corner into the main room of the restaurant, heard him greet the mayor, Harry Barnes, and several ladies who were having a late lunch.

      Finn’s department motto was To Protect and Serve. He hadn’t meant anything else. For Emmie. Or her.

      * * *

      “REMEMBER MISS CLARA’S SHOP, Sierra?” Annabelle asked, having spent the past half hour at her cousin’s bedside. She would have to leave soon to pick up Emmie, who was with Blossom, for her doctor’s appointment. Annabelle’s earlier talk with Finn, except for his parting words, had already ruined her day. “We laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe.”

      Sierra waved a limp hand in the air, almost dislodging the IV line in her arm. “Your mother grounded us for the next week.”

      Annabelle caught her arm. Sierra had torn out that line before, and half of Annabelle’s visits seemed to involve calling the nurse to redo it. “That was the last time we went to the store,” Annabelle said, “but Miss Clara did have the most interesting things for sale.”

      She didn’t go on. All at once the memory didn’t seem funny. At the store, to her horror, Sierra had slipped a cheap, flashy ring in her pocket, and that night Annabelle’s mother had found it. Of course she’d blamed Annabelle, too—Now my daughter is a thief?—and the next summer Sierra hadn’t come to stay. She’d never come again. Better not to pursue this topic, which might bring another angry outburst from Sierra about Annabelle’s parents.