Montana Sheriff. Marie Ferrarella
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Название: Montana Sheriff
Автор: Marie Ferrarella
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance
isbn: 9781408956724
isbn:
“Well, if you don’t feel like talking, I figured I’d better be getting back to the ranch.” And then a thought occurred to her. “Come over for dinner tonight,” she told her son. “I’ll make your favorite,” Midge added to seal the deal.
Cole sighed. He knew what she was up to. She was trying to draw him out of what she referred to as his “shell.” She’d all but undertaken a crusade to accomplish that the summer Ronnie took off.
“I’m okay, Ma,” he insisted.
The very innocent look was back. “Didn’t say you weren’t,” Midge replied.
She looked at the deputy as she walked past his desk. Tim McGuire hardly looked old enough to shave despite the fact that he was edging his way toward his twenty-second birthday.
“Tell your mother and father I said hello,” she told him.
“Sure will,” the deputy cheerfully assured her. As he spoke, a golden crumb broke away from the muffin he was in the midst of consuming and fell onto his shirt. Looking down sheepishly, Tim laughed and brushed the crumb—and several others—off. “You sure do bake the best things, Mrs. James. I wish you’d teach my mother how you make these.”
Unlike her son, Midge absorbed praise, fully enjoying each compliment.
“I’m sure she does fine without my input, Tim.” Her bright blue eyes danced as she paused at the door, one hand on the doorknob. “But I can teach you anytime you’d like.”
“Me?” the deputy asked incredulously.
He glanced up at the sheriff’s mother, stunned. Tim was the stereotypical male who had yet to master the art of boiling water—not that he felt he had to. He still lived at home and thought that was what mothers were for—among other things.
“Nothing wrong with a man knowing his way around a stove, Tim,” Midge told him.
Cole rolled his eyes. “That’s all I need,” he grumbled. “A deputy in an apron, his face smeared with blueberries as he’s burning the muffins he’s trying to make.” With a shake of his head, Cole slanted a sidelong glance toward his mother. And then he raised another muffin as if to toast her with it. “Thanks for bringing these.”
“Don’t mention it. And don’t forget about dinner tonight,” she pressed, opening the door. “Six-thirty. Don’t be late.”
“Or what, you’ll start without me?” Cole teased.
“Don’t get fresh,” his mother warned. But she was smiling at him as she said it. “Goodbye, Tim,” she called out.
“Goodbye, Mrs. James,” Tim responded with enthusiasm.
“Your mom really is a nice lady,” the deputy said with feeling, his eyes on his task. He was preparing to eliminate his third muffin.
Cole marveled at the way Tim could put food away and still look like a walking stick. Had to be all that enthusiasm he kept displaying, Cole thought.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied.
He took a bite out of his muffin, thinking. It occurred to him that this wasn’t the first time his mother had mentioned stopping by Amos McCloud’s place. Seemed to him that she was doing that quite a lot.
He made a mental note to ask her about that the next time he got a chance. He didn’t recall his mother and Amos being all that close before.
But then, loss had a way of bringing people together, and his mother wasn’t the type who liked being alone. He could recall her taking part in whatever needed doing around the ranch, never worrying about getting her hands dirty or complaining about having to work too hard.
In that respect she was a lot like Ronnie, he mused, breaking off another piece of the muffin.
Except that, growing up, Ronnie had been even more so. Part of the reason, he knew, was because she’d grown up without a mother. Margaret McCloud had died shortly after giving birth to Ronnie. Never a strong woman, according to his mother, one morning Margaret just didn’t get out of bed. When Amos came in to see why she wasn’t up yet, or at least tending to the baby, who was screaming her lungs out—Ronnie was loud even then—Amos found that his wife was dead.
The doctor who had to be called in from the neighboring town said she’d suffered from a ruptured aneurysm. Just like that, she was gone.
Life could change in an instant.
Cole got up. “I’ll be back in a while,” he told Tim as he walked out.
“What’s ‘a while’?” Tim called out after him.
“Longer than a minute,” Cole called back. And then he was gone.
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