The Sheriff Of Sage Bend. Brenda Mott

twin sisters had run the Truck Inn for as long as Miranda could remember. In their midfifties now, neither had ever married, but they’d raised Tori from birth when her own mother couldn’t. Shirley Lambert had been diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after she found out she was pregnant. She’d refused treatment, not wanting to jeopardize her baby.

      She’d died when Tori was six months old.

      “That would be great,” Miranda said. “Here, let me take that.”

      Fae handed over the pie. “We thought you might need a little something to keep you going. And by the way, Mae says to tell you to stop by the diner on your way home. She’s got a fresh pot of coffee on and a big ol’ kettle of hunter’s stew. You’ll need it if you keep riding these hills all day and night.”

      With that, she swept into the living room, where she enveloped Miranda’s mom in a hug. “Paige, honey, I’m so sorry. I wish there was something more I could do.”

      Paige returned the embrace. “Thank you. I’m about half out of my mind.” She gestured toward a recliner, then sat down herself. “Can you stay awhile?”

      “I sure can. As long as you need me to.”

      “Mom—”

      “Don’t ‘Mom’ me,” Paige said. “See, I told you I’ll be fine. Go home, girls.” She looked from one to the other. “Get some rest. Fae’s here with me now.” But her voice sounded nasal, and moisture rimmed her eyes.

      Miranda sank onto the couch beside her and rubbed her mother’s back. “Don’t worry. We’re going to find her.”

      “Of course we will.” Paige shooed her away. “Get some of Mae’s stew and take care of your animals.”

      “All right. But if you change your mind, call me.”

      “I will.”

      “Thanks, Fae.”

      “You betcha. I’ll take good care of your momma.”

      Outside, Miranda climbed into her truck. “You coming with me?” she asked Tori.

      Her friend shook her head. “Lord knows I spend enough time at that place as it is. Unless you need me to,” she quickly added. “Of course I’ll come.” She started to walk around the front of the truck.

      “No, it’s okay, Tori.” Miranda started the truck and glanced at the dashboard clock. Ten-fifteen. “I’m just going to grab something quick, then head home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

      “All right then.” Tori leaned on the truck’s half-open door. “Try not to worry. We will find Shannon.”

      “I know.” But as Miranda drove to town, she continued to worry. She wasn’t particularly hungry, and she knew her animals waiting at home were, but right now she felt as though she could barely drag her tired body through chores. A cup of Mae’s famous stand-a-spoon-in-it coffee sounded pretty good. Maybe a jolt of caffeine would revive her. Miranda doubted she’d sleep tonight, anyway, worn-out or not. The thought of Shannon hurt and scared out there—God knew where—wouldn’t leave.

      The flashing neon lights of the Truck Inn came into view, casting a green-and-pink glow over the asphalt. Miranda parked and walked past the motel and gas station to the diner. Mae stood behind the counter, a clone of her twin, save for her bright red hair. She wore a frilly, plus-size Western blouse and black jeans that were a tad snug. She waved Miranda over the minute she stepped through the door.

      “Miranda, honey, I’ve got a bowl of stew with your name on it.” Before she could protest, Mae set a plain white bowl, heaped full, on the counter, then poured a steaming mug of coffee. “This will get you goin’. No mocha lattes here.” She winked. Whipping out a napkin and silverware with a practiced ease acquired from waiting on hungry truck drivers for decades, Mae urged her to sit down. “Any word on Shannon?”

      “Not yet.” Miranda blew on the coffee, then took a cautious sip. The strong brew nearly made her hair stand on end. Cowboy coffee. She set it down and added sugar. “The search party rode till dark. We’re going to pick up again at daylight.”

      “Tori called earlier. Said there was folks on horses, ATVs and on foot.” Mae shook her head. “You know, my fanny might be a tad too wide to ride, but I can still manage a hike. You let me know if you need an extra pair of eyes and I’ll be there with bells on.”

      Miranda gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, Mae. I sure appreciate it.”

      A few customers sidled over and began to question Miranda about what had happened. She talked until she thought her brain would explode. The fact that her sister’s disappearance had become a source of gossip made her sick.

      Leaving her stew half-finished, she threw some money on the counter. “I’ve gotta get home and feed. Thanks for the stew and coffee, Mae.”

      “Anytime, sweetie. Anytime.” Mae swept the bowl out of sight and wiped the counter with an oversize damp cloth.

      Outside, Miranda pointed her Chevy down the road. Her head felt woozy from lack of sleep. Even the coffee hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. Rolling down her window for a blast of cool night air, she focused on the drive.

      She’d barely started down the highway that led to the county road turnoff for her ranch when she spotted flashing lights in her rearview mirror. Heart pounding, Miranda pulled over. Shannon. They’d found Shannon.

      She was out of the truck before the familiar, dark green Blazer had even come to a complete stop behind her. Lucas slid from the SUV, scowling.

      “You’re supposed to stay in your vehicle when an officer of the law pulls you over.”

      “Did you find her?”

      “What? No.” His features softened. “That’s not why I stopped you.”

      “So, what—I have a taillight out? I was going fifty in a forty-five?” She folded her arms. “Lucas, I’m tired. Just write me a ticket for whatever I’ve done and I’ll be on my way.”

      “Are you always such delightful company?” He glared at her from beneath the brim of his hat, his face backlit by his headlights.

      She still found him far too attractive.

      “Are you always on duty? For crying out loud, I thought you’d be home sleeping by now.”

      “I could say the same of you, which, by the way, is why I pulled you over. You were weaving across the dotted line.”

      “I wasn’t.” Miranda frowned. “Was I?”

      “You’re dog-tired, with no business being behind the wheel. You could kill yourself—or someone else.”

      She felt stupid. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

      Lucas gestured, official-like. “Pull your truck over on that wide spot there and park it. You can get it in the morning after you’ve had some sleep.”

      She let her jaw drop. “And how do you expect me to get home?” He simply raised his brows. “Oh, no. I’m not riding with you.”

      “Yes, you are.”

      “Lucas, I’m fine. I’m less than three miles from home.”

      “Move your truck. Now.” He spun on his heel.

      Cursing under her breath, even though she knew he was right, Miranda stomped over to the Chevy and moved it onto the pull off beside the highway. After locking the doors, she got into the passenger seat of the Blazer, refusing to look at Lucas. It was bad enough she’d had to be around him the better part of the day. But if he helped find Shannon…that was all that mattered.

      He drove in silence for a few minutes, with only the crackle of his police radio as background noise.

      “Don’t you ever sleep?” she finally asked.