Anywhere with You. Debbi Rawlins

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      She wanted to tell him not to worry. He wasn’t consorting with the enemy. She was merely another deputy trying to do her job. And contrary to popular belief, whoever was named acting sheriff wasn’t guaranteed a permanent position. The November election would settle that.

      In the meantime, they didn’t have to be friends, but it would be nice to have a tension-free work environment. Roy could be decent at times, Danny was a follower, but Wade was a problem. The self-appointed ringleader had quit the department months ago and then returned thinking he’d slide right into the vacant sheriff’s position. Roy wanted the job, too, but when it came down to it, he was no match for Wade.

      According to Clarence, Noah didn’t think either man was qualified. But knowing her uncle as she was beginning to, she’d be wise to believe only half of what he told her.

      Roy sipped from his chipped blue mug, staring at her over the rim. “You think you’re gonna like it here?”

      “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s very different from where I grew up.”

      “I’ve been to Texas once,” he said. “But not Arizona.”

      “Well, this is the first time I’ve been this far north. It’s pretty country, though I’m not too anxious to drive in snow.”

      “Ah, you’ll get used to it. We keep the roads clear.” Roy sat down, which delighted her.

      They were both officially off duty. He usually left the moment he finished his report. Instead, they were having a civilized conversation.

      “You lived in Tucson, right?”

      “No, about eighty miles west of the city. I grew up in a fairly small town. Maybe twice the size of Blackfoot Falls.” Her father had been the sheriff there for thirty-two years before he had retired. Just as her grandfather had held the office before him. It hurt to think she would never carry the torch.

      “Were you close to the Mexican border where they have all those drug problems?”

      “Close enough to keep us on our toes.” She hoped he didn’t pursue the subject of drugs or anything that would lead to questions about her last job.

      “See, I’d take snow over chasing drug dealers or cartel honchos any day,” he said with a grin.

      Grace relaxed. “You have an excellent point.”

      “Now, I heard you were part of a joint task force with the DEA and Tucson PD. Is that right?”

      Her heart sank. Being as truthful as possible was her best bet. “Briefly,” she said, wondering if she was being set up. Had Roy pretended to befriend her to dig for dirt? Or was he just curious? “When the cartels switched routes to ship the drugs north, some of the outlying counties were forced to become involved. We were one of the lucky winners.”

      Roy frowned, shaking his head. “That’s rough. I mean, you don’t sign up for that horse pucky, and all of a sudden, it’s on your doorstep. Bet you were glad to leave that crap behind.”

      Grace smiled. There was no cunning plot to uncover her past. The guy was simply trying to make conversation.

      Her cell rang. She saw it was Clarence and hesitated, not sure she wanted to answer. Though he’d find her eventually.

      The second she said, “Hello, Mayor, what can I do for you?” she realized she’d made a face, and that Roy had seen it.

      * * *

      THE WATERING HOLE was crowded for a Sunday evening, every wobbly table and mismatched chair taken. Grace suspected Rachel’s friends had something to do with the abundance of cowboys sidled up to the old mahogany bar or playing pool in the back room. Katy and the other two bridesmaids were there. So was another woman Grace recognized from the party. The four of them were having a fine time flirting and dancing.

      Grace felt badly for occupying a table for forty minutes. But she’d stupidly expected Clarence to show up at 6:30 p.m. like he’d promised. Meeting here hadn’t even been her idea. He’d claimed he wanted her to meet a couple of his friends and, trying to be cordial, she agreed.

      Now she was thinking it might’ve been a ploy to force her to get out and mingle with the townsfolk. She had no problem with that since she wanted to get to know people. But in her own good time. In fact, she’d visited The Watering Hole twice already. The drinks were cheap, the people friendly, the decor quaint, but of course, the atmosphere was nothing like the neighborhood bar she’d frequented with her cop buddies in Tucson. The reminder that her life had changed forever depressed her.

      On the upside, she liked Sadie, the older woman who owned the place. Most of the area’s hired hands dropped by at some point during the week, and they all knew better than to break one of her rules. It was awesome how she’d get a rabble-rouser to tuck his tail with just a single look.

      Grace returned the smile of a good-looking blond cowboy sitting two tables down, eyeing her. If it turned out he couldn’t tell the difference between a friendly smile and a flirty one, she wasn’t worried. He’d cool off the moment he found out she was the new deputy. It had worked like a charm so far.

      Taking a sip of her now-warm beer, she waited impatiently for Nikki to deliver pitchers to the pool players. Grace wanted to catch her so she could pay her tab and take off.

      The door opened and she glanced over, hoping it wasn’t her uncle. Ben strolled in, pausing, his gaze sweeping the bar. Grace looked down and took another gulp of the disgusting beer. She’d be foolish to think he wouldn’t see her. Even so, he’d most likely ignore her. She’d done something very stupid...stopping Trace and not giving him a ticket...Ben had to have heard...

      “It’s Ben!”

      Rachel’s friends had perked up. Good. They wouldn’t leave him alone for long.

      Chancing a peek, Grace watched Ben head straight to the bar. He spoke with Sadie, his back to everyone. Damn, but the man knew how to wear a pair of jeans. The denim hugged his long legs and butt as though they might’ve been tailored for him. Even the plain black T-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders seemed anything but ordinary.

      She wondered if he’d ever wanted to act instead of do someone else’s stunts. He certainly had the looks. But he’d also need the acting chops.

      Digging into her pocket for money, she found lip balm and her room key. She tried the other pocket, deciding she needed to get more organized or start carrying a purse. Like that would happen. Finally she pulled out some bills and found a ten.

      “Excuse me, ma’am.”

      She looked up.

      It was the blond guy who’d been watching her. He smiled and touched the brim of his hat. “If you aren’t expecting anyone, I’d sure like to join you.”

      “The lady’s waiting for me.” Ben set a frosty mug in front of her, his steady gaze and faint smile daring her to contradict him.

      Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t think of anything fast enough.

      The cowboy nodded at Ben, then returned to his table. Ben pulled out the chair across from her and sat down with his beer.

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