Her Small-Town Sheriff. Lissa Manley

a bee in her bonnet again, and her attitude is making me feel about an inch tall.”

       “Did you really expect her to embrace her punishment?” Molly asked with a rueful look as she plopped down in a stool opposite the counter. “C’mon. Be real.”

       “No.” Phoebe chewed her lip. “But I thought maybe she’d loosen up a bit.”

       “She’s twelve, Phoebs. Loose and relaxed isn’t even in her vocabulary.”

       “Yeah, I guess so. I was just hoping…”

       Molly quirked a brow. “That she’d instantly like you?”

       Phoebe lifted one shoulder and tilted her head sideways. “Is that such a bad thing?”

       “No, it’s not bad. Just unrealistic.”

       Molly was right. Heidi was going to be a tough nut to crack. Impossible, maybe. But somehow, Phoebe felt the compelling need to at least try to work a bit of Heidi’s shell loose.

       “Probably,” she said. “But I’m a sucker for punishment, so I’ll keep trying to soften her edges.”

       “Knowing your kind heart, that doesn’t surprise me,” Molly said with a warm smile.

       The bells over the door rang, and a family of tourists bustled in. Phoebe served them, glad for the distraction of the kids’ smiles and beach-induced happiness.

       They left with enough scoops of ice cream for three families, and Molly approached from where she’d been standing looking out the window. “I think I just saw Sheriff Winters walking by,” she said, switching gears almost midthought. “He still looks mighty good in that uniform.”

       Phoebe’s heart tripped, and before she could stop the reaction, her gaze flew to the window. “Really?”

       “Wow.” Molly chuckled. “Are you just a little anxious to see the man?”

       Phoebe closed her eyes for a second. She had to be more careful around Molly about letting her ill-advised and unwanted interest in Carson Winters—and his uniform—show. “No. Of course not.” That was the plan, and she was sticking to it.

       “Really? Because for just a second it seemed like maybe you had a little…crush going on there.”

       The word crush set Phoebe on edge. “I don’t do crushes,” she said, her chin elevated to emphasize her point. Yes, the new sheriff in town was attractive. But his family situation was a mess. Enough said.

       “There’s a first time for everything,” Molly said.

       “Not my first.”

       Molly blinked. “Sorry. Right. Second,” Molly said, recovering quickly.

       Phoebe rolled her eyes.

       “Hey, he’s a hunk,” Molly said, probably going for levity. “If I weren’t already happily taken, I’d have a crush on the guy.”

       Phoebe sighed. “I know where this is going, Little Miss Matchmaker,” she said ruefully.

       “Where?” Molly asked, all innocence as usual, and playing dumb about her motives.

       “Down your usual matchmaker path,” Phoebe said, glaring. “The one I can’t get you to step off.”

       “So what if I am going down that path?” Molly moved closer, then leaned a hip against the counter. “I love that path, and I’m happy where it’s taken me.”

       Phoebe gave her a deadpan look.

       “I really think you need to start dating again, and I’m sensing Sheriff Winters is the perfect guy,” Molly said, ignoring Phoebe’s nonverbal cue.

       Phoebe shook her head at the mention of Molly’s love mojo, i.e., her self-proclaimed ability to sense who belonged with whom romantically.

       “Trust me when I say he’s not perfect for me,” Phoebe said pointedly.

       “Care to tell me why? Aside from your need to avoid romance?”

       Phoebe straightened the napkin and cone holder on the fountain counter. How was she going to get Molly to back off…?

       Okay. She’d have to bend what she felt was a confidence between the sheriff and herself and tell Molly a bit about the Winterses’ family drama, without going into specifics or gossiping. Fortunately she could trust Molly to keep whatever Phoebe told her to herself.

       “He and his daughter have been through a lot, and are having major problems.” She grabbed a clean sponge and cleaned an invisible spot off the counter. “The last thing I want is to get caught up in some kind of messy father/daughter crisis.”

       Molly jabbed a finger in the air. “Aha. No wonder you want to bond with Heidi.”

       Phoebe blinked.

       “Because you’ve been through a lot, too?” Molly said, as if the reasons for her statement were obvious.

       “Maybe you’re right,” Phoebe said, conceding the point because it was valid. “But bonding with Heidi and getting hung up on her father are two very different things.”

       “Yes, but—”

       Phoebe kept going, needing to make her point. “And, the fact remains I’ll never fall in love again, so why try?” She stared at Molly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Right?”

       Molly sat silently for a moment, chewing her lip, the wheels in her head obviously turning.

       “Plus, he’s a cop. No way am I going to get involved with someone who works in law enforcement.”

       Finally she lifted a piercing green gaze to Phoebe. “I find all of this very interesting,” she said in a speculative tone. “Fascinating, actually.”

       Phoebe scrunched her eyebrows together. “Why?” she asked, hoping Molly would spout some vague theory and then drop the subject so they could talk about flowers again.

       “Because for a woman who claims to be so indifferent to Carson Winters, you’ve sure spent a heap of time coming up with lots of reasons why you don’t want to go out with him.”

       “So?” Phoebe said, looking at Molly sideways.

       Molly stood, cocking her head. “So, to quote someone who—I don’t know—probably knew what they were talking about, ‘methinks thou doth protest too much.’”

       “Your point?” Phoebe asked, anticipating the worst.

       “You’re attracted to him, Phoebs. And that scares you to death.”

      * * *

       “So, anything you want to talk about?”

       Carson looked over his cup of black coffee at his cousin, Lily, taking careful note of the well-intentioned-on-her-part, yet dreaded-on-his-part interest in her eyes.

       She was on a fishing expedition. No wonder she’d pushed him to meet for coffee at The Coffee Cabana in the middle of the afternoon.

       His fingers squeezed the handle of his coffee mug. Had Heidi filled Lily in on the latest drama in the Winterses’ household when she and Lily had gone shopping last night? Or was Lily just being her usual nosy, talk-to-me-I-can-help self?

       Either way, Carson didn’t want to get into it. “Well, Ollie Sanders got busted for drunk and disorderly yesterday, and Mrs. Jaquith backed her car into another fire hydrant. Oh, and it seems someone left a bag of dog doo in the middle of Pelican Lane sometime last night and Jimmy Voss called to complain that it hadn’t been picked up yet—”

       “I’m not talking about job stuff,” Lily said, smoothing her long, blond hair behind one ear.

       He stared at her, but didn’t say anything. The last thing he wanted to do was rehash how Heidi had gone rogue and taken a walk on