Sheriff Takes A Bride. Gayle Kaye

from there.

      “I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t important, Hallie.” The woman snuffled. Or maybe it was the scratchiness of the phone system in the Ozark hill country.

      “You know you can call me anytime, Granny Pearl. Now, calm down and tell me what it is.”

      Granny could take care of herself, even reveled in the fact, claimed she’d be carried out of her cabin feet first and no other way. And Hallie wasn’t sure she could change her mind on that score. Still, she worried about her relative.

      “This... horrible cuss of a varmint has arrested me. Locked me up and won’t let me go home. I need to feed George and Myrtle.”

      Granny’s voice quavered again at the last Hallie heard it, knew her grandmother would be upset to be away from her two pesky goats, but she suspected the animals would somehow survive. It was Granny Pearl she was concerned about

      “Arrested? Granny, there must be some mistake.” Who would arrest a harmless little old lady, and for what? Jaywalking across the town’s lone hilly street that saw maybe four cars and six dogs in the way of traffic in any twenty-four hour period?

      “He’s locked me up and throwed away the key. I’m sure he means to feed me bread and water for supper—if I even get supper.”

      Granny’s voice sounded strong. And mad. Hallie took that as a good sign. When Granny Pearl got her dander up, the earth shook around her. In fact, maybe Hallie should have a little charitable pity for the poor sheriff.

      “Let me talk to Sheriff Potts, Granny Pearl.” Hallie would settle this.

      “It’s not Sheriff Potts. We buried him six months ago. This...varmint’s a new breed. And not from these parts.”

      Hallie was sorry to hear about Virgil Potts. She remembered him from summers she’d spent with Granny in Greens Hollow. “Then let me talk to this new var—man,” she said, correcting herself. “I’m sure I can straighten everything out.”

      Granny laid the phone down. Hallie heard a quick, muffled conversation, complete with a little ripe cussing from Granny Pearl, then a deep male voice came on the line.

      There was nothing scratchy about the phone line now. It fairly rumbled with the low, earthy voice. Hallie felt it tingle across her nerve endings like sandpaper over new skin. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Sheriff,” she said coolly, “just what is it my grandmother’s supposed to have done?”

      Sheriff Cam Osborne heard the tension in Hallie Cates’s voice ripple across the wire. He couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was the she-lion her granny was. And what the granddaughter from Fort Worth would say if she knew Granny Pearl had sunk her teeth into his right arm in a moment of nonvigilance on his part. That was a mistake he wasn’t about to make again—even if he had to lock the old gal up in solitary until her temper cooled a bit. If it ever did.

      It would probably be one cold day in hell.

      “She’s been charged with a couple of things, the most serious being selling moonshine to half the county.” He’d keep the resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law with a seventy-nine-year-old set of choppers for later. At least until he knew what kind of woman Pearl Cates’s pretty granddaughter was. He hated to admit he was interested. He’d seen her picture standing in a frame on the mantel over Granny’s fireplace. Thick red hair, worn loose to her shoulders, high blushing cheekbones and a sweet little mouth that just begged to be kissed.

      But that he knew he had no business thinking about Who even knew if Hallie Cates would come to her grandmother’s rescue? Hadn’t Pearl said her granddaughter didn’t come back to Arkansas very often?

      He took some vague satisfaction at her small gasp. “Moonshine? Why... why Granny Pearl would never... She wouldn’t... I mean, Sheriff, there must be some mistake.”

      And she clearly implied he’d made it Cam sniffed the cork of the hundred-proof “evidence” he’d confiscated from his prisoner, nearly becoming looped from the stuffs fumes. Oh, the old woman was guilty all right Not to mention, downright unrepentant about her little...business. “Trust me, Ms. Cates, there’s been no mistake.”

      Another small gasp, this one sounding more like an irate sigh. “How could you even think one sweet, docile, little old lady would break the law? Why, Granny is—”

      “Neither sweet, nor docile,” he interrupted the tirade she was only just warming to. From her spot beside him, Granny Pearl was giving him the devil eye. The woman was just lucky he hadn’t handcuffed her to that chair she was sitting on. No, she was hardly sweet. And as for docile...?

      He rubbed the bite mark on his arm.

      “Okay, okay, so Granny may be a little...feisty.” Hallie Cates admitted from her end of the line. “But she’s as honest and law-abiding as the day is long. And I can vouch for that.”

      Cam dragged a hand through his dark hair. They were getting nowhere here. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity to voice your opinion in court,” he told her, “but for now—”

      Cam had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Just what kind of a low-down poleskunk are you to throw a little old lady in the clink and feed her nothing but bread and water for supper?” The woman’s blast was nearly deafening.

      “Give him hell, Hallie!” Granny yelped, joining in the fracas from this end. She’d gotten to her feet and was threatening Cam with balled fists.

      It wouldn’t take much for him to lock both women in a cell for a year or two. What had ever made him think a job as small-town sheriff might be preferable to the vicissitudes of the Chicago police force? He had to be crazy.

      No—he wasn’t. It was the world. The world was crazy. Here, everywhere. He’d only thought he’d escaped it.

      Cam didn’t relish the reputation he was sure to get for locking up a seventy-nine-year-old, and a woman, at that. But the law was the law. And Cam didn’t bend it. Not in Chicago—and not here.

      “Well, Sheriff?”

      Cam ordered Pearl back to her chair, then returned his attention to the voice on the other end. He suspected under other circumstances it could be velvety, caressing a man’s soul, not to mention his well-fired hormones. “The menu tonight is planked steak and green beans, with a side of biscuits. And I might suggest you don’t believe everything your sweet little grandmother tells you, Ms. Cates.”

      It was all Cam could say at the moment. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with Pearl Cates. Or with her granddaughter, who would no doubt be showing up soon, wrapped in plenty of fury and indignation, to save Pearl from the town’s heartless sheriff.

      

      Hallie hated driving the winding back roads that led to Greens Hollow. At night they were much more than winding, they were downright dangerous. But the rude, unfeeling sheriff had left her no choice but to drop everything and race to the small town. That was, unless she wanted Granny to be spending a night alone in jail, at the man’s mercy—something of which Sheriff Cam Osborne had little, if any, she suspected.

      She’d hastily thrown clothes into a suitcase, wrapped up the cookies she’d baked, deciding to take them to Granny, and headed off down the highway.

      School was out for the summer, and her class of second-graders would be going off to camp, swimming, having fun—and Hallie would miss them. She’d planned a full summer schedule for herself as well, one that hadn’t included bailing her grandmother out of jail.

      She’d intended to try her hand at tennis lessons, read a few books she’d been saving for a lazy sunny afternoon on the side porch, maybe take a language course—Russian or Eastern Tibetan—whatever struck her fancy.

      But Granny Pearl needed her.

      It was ten o’clock by the time Hallie drew up in front of the sheriff’s office. It was a small stone building that had been around