Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss. Kelly Boyce

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СКАЧАТЬ The plumed ostrich feather in her hat bobbed in her peripheral vision, blotting out the image of Hunter Donovan every time the wagon’s wheels hit a new rut in the road. Even from halfway down Main Street she had recognized his likeness, the relaxed posture as he leaned against the post outside the sheriff’s office, every bone in his body a study in ease. He was too far away to see the details of his face, but she didn’t need to. She’d memorized every line, every contour long ago.

      She recognized the moment he realized who she was. Though his stance did not alter, the coffee mug in his hand went slack, its contents dribbling out and hitting the toe of his boot. She wouldn’t blame him for not recognizing her straightaway. Coifed and dressed to the nines as she was, it was a far different picture she presented than the one he was familiar with.

      She refused to look his way, to give the strange tingling in her belly any credence. It was only nerves, nothing more. She had put away the feelings she’d harbored for Hunter Donovan a long time ago and she had no intentions of hauling them back out now.

      Once upon a time, he’d told her she wasn’t good enough to take the Donovan name. Well, she would show him. She would show everyone who’d thought it impossible a Connolly would ever amount to much.

      Meredith turned her gaze to the craggy mountains off in the distance. Their panoramic landscape refused to be ignored. It had been too many years since she’d seen the view. Its potency had not lessened since then. If anything, the sun-brightened tips of the mountains looked even more golden against the twilight-streaked sky than she remembered. The wildness of it called to her, penetrating the polish and sophistication Boston had adorned her with.

      The wagon jostled to a stop and the driver, a man she didn’t know, hopped down.

      “Meredith!”

      Bertram Trent’s robust voice cut through the melee of people milling about at the end of the day. He bustled toward her and shooed the driver off, helping her down on his own. He had always struck her as a tangible version of Old St. Nick, and in the seven years she’d been gone time had only solidified the image. Thick white hair with a matching beard framed a round face and apple cheeks. Even his blue eyes sparkled with a merry twinkle that never seemed to dim. She set aside her valise and let him assist her down. Her feet no sooner touched the ground than he enveloped her in a warm embrace.

      “Bertram! It is so wonderful to see you.”

      “And you, my dear girl.” He pulled away and held her at arms’ length, giving his head a small shake. “As I live and breathe you are a sight for these old eyes. Every bit the vision of loveliness your mama was.”

      “Oh, pish.” Meredith smiled at the compliment but shook her head. Vivienne Connolly had been a raven-haired beauty with the warm olive skin of her Irish ancestors. Even illness hadn’t been able to rob her of it. Meredith, on the other hand, was fair-skinned and prone to burning whenever the sun found its way beneath her bonnet. “We both know I favor my father in that regard.”

      “I don’t remember your pa being quite so pretty, or dressed in such finery.”

      Meredith glanced down at her traveling dress. It had wrinkled somewhat from the trip but had fared better than she expected. Aunt had allowed her a new dress each season once Meredith convinced her it was the best way to advertise their services. Business had picked up afterward, and soon Meredith began designing her own patterns, of which this was one.

      “I suppose it’s a far cry from what I wore when I left.”

      When she’d left, she’d barely had more than the worn-out clothes on her back, a suitcase full of bad memories and a broken heart. Now she returned a woman of some means, with the knowledge of how to run her own business and succeed in doing so. Never again would she have to rely on the charity of others or worry where her next meal was coming from.

      “Indeed. Now how was your trip? Never did cotton to riding the rail. Seems a dangerous way to go if you ask me. Thing moves faster than a body ought to in my opinion.”

      Meredith smiled. “It didn’t move fast enough in my estimation. But I’m happy to be home. Happier still to find a proper bed to sleep in.”

      “Come, come then,” he said, reaching past her to retrieve her valise. “Your room is ready and waiting. Top floor. Nicest one The Klein has to offer, just as you requested.”

      “Thank you, Bertram. I do appreciate all the effort you’ve put in on my behalf.”

      “It’s nothing. I’m glad to be of service. How are you doing?”

      “I’m fine.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue but left behind a bitter residue. Her father had returned to Salvation Falls a month before in a casket. She hadn’t seen him since she’d left town. She wouldn’t see him now. The knowledge left her hollow and hurting.

      “Good, good.” Bertram held out his arm and she slipped her hand through it, noting the fine fabric of his coat. Business must be good. With the growth of the town, she had no doubt Bertram’s client list had grown. She was happy to see the old lawyer still prosperous after all this time. Though he spoke occasionally of retirement, she doubted it would ever come to that. He enjoyed his work, enjoyed the people and the challenge of the law.

      He’d been a godsend when she’d needed it most, even if the result hadn’t been what they had both wanted.

      “I was sorry to hear about your aunt.”

      She accepted his condolences with a nod of her head as they stepped inside the hotel and out of the cold bite of the November evening. “It was difficult, but she had been ill for quite some time. In some ways, it was almost a relief knowing she didn’t suffer any longer.” Though she and Aunt Erma hadn’t seen eye to eye on many issues, Meredith had always appreciated the woman who had taken her in when she’d had nowhere else to go.

      “Well, it’s good to have you home. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.” Bertram patted her hand in a grandfatherly gesture that warmed her heart. As much as she had come to appreciate Aunt Erma, her aunt had never been an outwardly warm woman. Meredith had missed the connection a thoughtful touch brought.

      Bertram extricated himself for a moment and went to the front desk where a trio of finely dressed people stood chatting. She looked them over and recognized the rich fabric of the women’s dresses. The younger lady in particular caught her eye. Her dove-gray dress was constructed of multiple pieces draped over each other and the bodice, cuffs and skirt were trimmed in royal blue velvet. Meredith knew from experience the amount of work that went into creating such a complicated garment and could only stare in appreciation.

      The young lady must have felt her gaze and turned. Her ebony hair stood in stark contrast to her pale grey eyes and ivory complexion. A fairy-tale princess plucked from the pages of a book Meredith might have read as a child. Her cool gaze slid over Meredith with little expression before she turned away.

      Bertram returned with the key to her room and noted the direction of Meredith’s gaze. “Oh, heavens, let me introduce you to the Bancrofts. They’re new in town. Looking to buy property and settle from what I hear.”

      She stopped Bertram when he took her arm. “Perhaps another day,” she said. Seeing Hunter had left her rattled. She wanted to escape to the quiet of her room and regain her weakened composure. “I find I’m quite exhausted from my travels.”

      He patted her hand. “Of course, my dear. Silly of me.” They turned away from the Bancrofts СКАЧАТЬ