At Home in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

      The wedding reception was still going strong. Laughter and chatter filled the old barn. Barbara watched the sheriff while she sat in a folding chair beside where the children were playing.

      The sheriff seemed to be intercepting anyone who was walking toward Barbara. One would think she had a big C for “criminal” branded on her forehead. The sheriff took one man by the arm and pointed him in a different direction. He whispered something in the ear of another. She couldn’t imagine why he cared if the ranch hands talked to her. They certainly didn’t have anything she could steal.

      Well, no matter what his reasons were for keeping people away from her, today was supposed to be a happy day and Barbara was determined to keep looking happy even if she had to change her view to do so.

      Since no one was going to talk to her inside the building with the sheriff blocking the way, Barbara decided to go outside. Barbara looked down at the bridal bouquet she still held. Was it just her, or did the flowers look a little wilted?

      Sheriff Wall watched Barbara walk back over to Mrs. Hargrove and say something before heading toward the barn door and going outside. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t need to follow Barbara everywhere, but if anyone was going to make contact with her, they would do it at some event like this. Strangers stood out in Dry Creek on an ordinary day, but tonight a dozen strangers could wander around and no one would pay much attention to them as long as they held a plastic cup filled with Mrs. Hargrove’s special raspberry punch.

      Of course, he wasn’t worried about Barbara seeking to contact her ex-husband’s criminal partners. The sheriff had talked with her enough in the hospital and then later in Dry Creek to know she wasn’t likely to turn to crime. She’d seen first-hand what crime did to a person, and she knew it wasn’t good.

      But that didn’t mean Barbara might not unwittingly receive a message from her ex-husband and not realize what it meant. She’d said she hadn’t heard from him, but she might be hoping for some message anyway. After all, the two of them had been married for a long time and had children together. They probably still had business to settle between them.

      Yeah, the sheriff told himself, he’d better go outside and stand in the dark with her just to be on hand if anyone came up to her with a message. It could be something as simple as “look in the tool chest for the key to the safety deposit box” or “dig up grandma’s favorite rosebush and see what you find.”

      The sheriff wished again that he had some of Pete’s charm with women. At least Pete could go out and stand there without looking like a fool with nothing to say.

      Barbara took a deep breath the minute she stepped outside. She looked around and was relieved no one else was close by. It did look as though someone was sitting in one of the pickups parked by the barn, but that was the only sign of life. Most of the cars were over by the church. The moon was out, but it was still dark enough that she couldn’t see much beyond the vehicles.

      Whoever was in the pickup seemed to be taking a nap, so Barbara felt alone enough to relax.

      After living through a cold winter here, she knew she’d never get tired of Montana spring nights. They were such a relief after the snow. It was a warm March, and the sounds from inside the barn were muted enough that she could almost hear the sounds of the outside. Now that spring was here, there was no snow to muffle the night sounds. She heard the sound of a coyote off in the distance. And a dog barking closer to town.

      Someone had lined up some folding chairs along the side of the barn, and Barbara stepped over to them and sat down. She set the bouquet down on the chair next to her and slid her shoes halfway off her feet. She wasn’t used to wearing high heels any more and they pinched. Barbara leaned back in the chair. Now she almost felt good enough to smile for real.

      She heard the sound of a pickup door being opened. Apparently, the man was finished with his nap.

      Right then, the door to the barn opened and light spilled out into the darkness.

      “Trouble?” Barbara asked when she looked up and saw the sheriff. She’d given it some thought and had almost decided that the reason the sheriff had been frowning so much was because he had official business somewhere. Maybe his mood had nothing to do with her. Maybe she’d just grown so distrustful of men that she saw betrayal and censure everywhere she looked.

      Yes, that must be it, Barbara told herself in relief. Someone must be in trouble and the sheriff was passing the word along to others who could help. The sheriff seemed always to be working. Even though he was wearing a regular black suit and not his uniform tonight, he was probably still on duty. She supposed a lot of his social evenings were interrupted like this.

      “Trouble? No,” the sheriff said as he let the door close behind him. He stood still for a moment. “Unless you’ve seen something?”

      Barbara refused to be disappointed that the sheriff wasn’t worried about someone else. “Me? What would I see?”

      “Oh, you never know when someone sees something out of the ordinary.” The sheriff walked over to the folding chairs where Barbara sat and stretched out on the chair closest to the barn door. It was six chairs away from Barbara.

      “No, nothing out of the ordinary here.”

      Maybe the sheriff was just worried from habit, Barbara decided. She was glad she had nothing to worry him further. She had noticed that whoever was getting out of the pickup had changed his mind and settled back into the seat. But there was nothing unusual about one of the men around here deciding to take a bit longer with his nap. A lot of them worked hard and were tired. The only thing that was unusual lately was that strange tingling sensation she’d had at the back of her neck. “Has anybody thought of getting a big streetlight around here?”

      “A streetlight? We only have the one street.”

      “I know, but it’s a very dark street—especially at night.”

      “People like it that way. If they get a streetlight, they worry they won’t be able to see the stars.”

      “It could be a small light.”

      The sheriff shrugged. “The county is voting next month on all the business. Bring it up at the town hall meeting we have. See what people think.”

      “Me? Would I go to the meeting?”

      “I don’t see why not. This is where you live, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, but—” Barbara had never voted in a local election before. She’d never been in one place long enough to qualify for anything like that. She’d gotten a library card once, but that was all.

      “There’ll be a vote for sheriff coming up,” he added. “If you’re interested in voting, that is.”

      Barbara was relieved. Whatever was troubling the sheriff, he must not suspect her of anything. He was asking her for something that implied she was almost one of the citizens of Dry Creek. “Well, you can count on my vote—I mean, if I don’t need to own property or anything.”

      “Nope. No property. Just show up at the barn here and vote.”

      Was it really that simple? It wasn’t pouring coffee, but voting had to count for something. Maybe becoming part of life in Dry Creek was possible after all. Barbara felt a rush of enthusiasm at the thought. “I suppose you have a campaign team already lined up?”

      She knew the sheriff was reliable and did a good job. He’d saved a life or two and he’d even tracked her down last fall. She’d heard enough talk around to know he was well thought of in Dry Creek.

      “Campaign?” the sheriff looked startled.

      “Yeah, you know, your campaign to get peoples’ votes. I’m just wondering if you have anyone working on the campaign. I could help pass out flyers or something if you need someone else to help. Just let me know who to talk to about it.”

      There, Barbara thought. It was the perfect place to start. A flyer was worth less than even a plastic plate,