Montana Daddy. Charlotte Maclay

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      Chapter Two

      The Grass Valley sheriff’s office boasted two cells, which mostly gathered dust, a potbellied wood stove capable of giving off enough heat for a volcano, and an assortment of chairs used mostly by the locals when they came in to visit with Eric.

      A police radio was located on a console to one side of the room, always set to both police and emergency frequencies. The doctor’s office was hooked up to the same system. A useful tool in an area where ranches were far apart, cell phones didn’t always work and emergencies were as unpredictable as spring weather.

      At the moment, the sheriff was sitting behind his desk talking on an ordinary phone. From his grim expression, Rory guessed Eric wasn’t having a social conversation.

      Giving his brother a nod, Rory shed his jacket and hat and hung them on a peg near the door. While he waited for Eric to get off the phone, he idly thumbed through the latest stack of Wanted flyers on the corner of his brother’s desk. Fortunately he didn’t recognize anyone.

      “What’s up?” Rory asked when his brother finished his phone call.

      The chair squeaked as Eric leaned back. Unlike Rory, who wore his hair collar length, Eric trimmed his in a short, almost military style. It seemed to fit with the neat cut of his khaki uniform.

      “Storm’s coming our way,” Eric said. “A bad one, according to the state Disaster Management Agency. They want me to implement our emergency plan.”

      Rory cocked his brows. “Have we got one of those?”

      “Sure we do. I gather together all the movers and shakers in our fair community and alert them there’s a blizzard coming.”

      “They probably know that already from watching TV,” Rory pointed out.

      “Possibly. Nonetheless, it’s not official till I tell ’em.”

      “If you don’t tell them, does that mean the blizzard won’t show up?”

      Eric’s brows pulled together in mock concentration. “I don’t think that’s how it works. I’ll check with Disaster Management next time they call.”

      Chuckling, Rory sat on the corner of the desk. In a small town like Grass Valley, layers of bureaucracy weren’t much use, and his brother knew that. “So when’s the meeting?”

      “Tonight at seven.” Eric opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a slender telephone directory. “I’ll get the preacher to open up the church—we’ll establish that as a shelter, if we need one. Then I’ll give folks a call, tell ’em we’ll be meeting there.”

      “You need me to come?”

      “You bet. Not only are you going to have to treat any animals that get themselves into trouble, you’re going to have to fill in for Doc Justine since she’s still in Great Falls.”

      “Nope. The doc’s back. And her granddaughter, too.”

      Eric lifted his attention from the telephone directory and shot a questioning look in Rory’s direction. “Kristi?”

      Self-consciously, Rory shoved away from the desk and crossed the room to the stove. The mere mention of Kristi’s name made him sweat, and the heat of the stove was no antidote, so he edged toward the cooler air near the window. “Kristi picked the doc up at the hospital this afternoon and brought her back here.”

      “You saw her? Kristi, I mean.”

      Rory tried for a shrug of indifference but felt as if it came off too stiff. He was still stunned by seeing Kristi again and the wash of memories that had swept over him. “Yeah. I helped her get the doc into the house. She’s got a cast on her leg and using crutches.”

      “So how’d Kristi look? Glad to see you, I bet.”

      Hardly. “We didn’t talk much. She was anxious to get the doc settled in.”

      “So is she married? Got kids or anything? Man, I remember you were so hot for her, I thought you’d burn up—”

      Rory whirled. “We didn’t get to talk much, okay? Now, don’t you have a blizzard to prepare for or something, instead of sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong?”

      Giving Rory a knowing СКАЧАТЬ