Sheriff Takes A Bride. Gayle Kaye

      She nodded.

      He touched a red springy curl that whispered across the fair skin at her temple. “You, pretty lady, don’t have anything to worry about in the age department. And I’d wager all the little boys have a crush on you.” He knew he would if he were in that classroom.

      A small laugh bubbled up from her throat. “A few,” she answered.

      “I thought so. And how about big boys—any...men in your life, Hallie Cates?”

      Why was he waiting for her answer? Why should he care if there was one—or twenty-one? But it seemed he was curious.

      “That, Sheriff, is getting nosy—but since you asked, no. Teaching keeps me busy.”

      “What a shame.”

      “What...?”

      That hadn’t been meant for Hallie’s ears. “I, uh, was just wondering how many berries we need,” he answered quickly.

      She gave him a long, scrutinizing glance. “Right,” she said.

      When she finally allowed that they’d picked enough to satisfy Granny’s recipe, Cam took the basket. “Let’s go take a look at Granny’s little enterprise,” he said. “It’s just at the end of that hollow.”

      Hallie gaped. “That close to the cabin? I thought stills were always well hidden.”

      “What can I say, the old girl obviously wasn’t worried about getting caught.”

      By the sheriff, Hallie thought. She couldn’t imagine what it was the man planned to show her. She’d seen nothing that even vaguely resembled a still hidden anywhere on Granny’s property.

      But Granny was just foxy enough to be up to something—and Cam seemed entirely too confident.

      Chapter Three

      It was cooler here in the hollow. The afternoon breeze whispered through, ruffling the ends of Hallie’s hair, the thick strands of Cam’s. The air was redolent with dogwood and a hint of pine. From above, the birds chattered away noisily.

      “So just where is this so-called still you uncovered?” Hallie asked as Cam did his best imitation of a man searching around for a favorite pair of boots, and coming up empty.

      Unless the still was small enough to hide under a rock it wasn’t anywhere around—and Hallie began to feel a whole lot better. She didn’t know whether Granny Pearl was innocent of Cam’s charges or up to her eyeballs in mischief, but she sincerely hoped the former was true and not the latter.

      Cam let loose with a colorful curse even Granny could appreciate.

      Hallie smiled. “Maybe this isn’t the right hollow. Maybe it’s somewhere else and your memory is a teensy bit off.” Her reply was meant more to antagonize than any real offer of explanation—and it hit the mark.

      Cam’s eyes blazed. “Oh, no. This is the right spot all right. That sneaky old biddy has moved it, that’s what. She had no intention of shutting down operations. She’s just gone underground.”

      “Underground?”

      “A figure of speech. These things can be mighty portable in this part of the country. But I didn’t think Pearl had it in her to up and transport—” He stopped short and spun around to gaze dangerously at Hallie. “Unless maybe...”

      “Maybe what?”

      “You helped the old girl.”

      “Me?” Hallie squeaked with indignation...and surprise.

      “Oh, yeah—you, and Granny Pearl.” His eyes narrowed. “Last night. Or maybe this morning—before sunup.”

      “I had nothing to do with hiding anything, Sheriff. And I’m not a hundred percent convinced there ever was a still. After all, I only have your say-so on that, now don’t I?”

      Cam rubbed his jaw for a long moment. “Okay—so maybe I’m jumping the gun a bit here. After all, I don’t have proof you were involved...” The glint in his dark eyes suggested that if he found out she was, there was going to be hell to pay.

      The sick feeling she’d had a short time before returned. She’d have to question Granny, have to get some sort of answer out of her. If Granny was, indeed, moonshining...

      Just then Cam’s beeper went off. “Damn!” he said. “I gotta get back to the Jeep. But this isn’t finished, Hallie Cates.”

      She followed him back through the hollow. His stride was long, eating up ground as he went. The breeze all but disappeared as they entered Granny’s enclosed yard, the air turning hot and still. Hallie swatted at a fly that buzzed around, and hurried to keep pace with Cam.

      When he reached the Cherokee he leaned inside and used the radio. Hallie heard the static but not the words, heard Cam’s terse reply. “I’ll be right there,” he said to whoever was on the other end.

      He had bigger fish to fry than Granny at the moment, it seemed. Perpetrators more frightening than little old ladies who might, or might not, be dabbling in moonshine. For a moment she was worried for Cam. Being sheriff around these parts had to carry a certain element of risk, of danger, she was sure.

      However, she suspected Cam Osborne could take care of himself. His size more than proved that. Just his bark would scare the criminally bent into running for cover. It was only Granny who refused to be intimidated by the big tough man.

      “I’ve got some trouble in town to deal with,” he said as he put the Jeep into gear, “but I’ll be black.”

      “Is that a threat or a promise, Sheriff?” Her words were spoken with more bravado than she felt on the inside.

      He didn’t answer, just turned his attention to backing out of Granny’s drive, then disappeared up the road, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

      

      “You should learn to respect your elders, missy. Am I makin’ moonshine and sellin’ it to half the county like Cam Osborne says? How can you ask such a thing?”

      “I am asking—and you are going to answer me,” Hallie said, intending to wring the truth from Granny Pearl if it was the last thing she did.

      And preferably before the sheriff came back.

      Granny rinsed the raspberries Hallie and Cam had picked. A plump young chicken stewed on the stove, while Hallie prepared a salad of greens from the garden.

      “An answer, Granny,” she repeated when the old woman clamped her mouth into a thin stubborn line. “Did Cam find a still on this property?”

      Granny raised her chin. “Says he did.”

      “I know what he said. Is it true?”

      “Maybe ‘tiz, maybe ’taint.” Granny stirred the rich berries into the cobbler, popped the pan into her relic of an oven and wiped her hands on her apron as if she were done with the conversation, as well as the cobbler.

      The woman could be exasperating to say the least.

      “You’re not going to answer me, are you?” Hallie said, finishing with the salad. She set the bowl on the small dining table, then turned and glowered at her kitchen companion.

      “What was the question?”

      What indeed. Granny could fake a sudden case of forgetfulness faster than anyone Hallie knew. “So that’s the way you’re going to play this. Okay...” She raised her hands in a show of defeat “If you won’t talk to me, you can just talk to the sheriff when he returns.”

      Granny snorted. “That man’s comin’ back here? What fer?”

      Maybe to haul Granny back to his iron-barred hotel, Hallie thought dismally. Butting heads with this cantankerous woman was not the way