Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss. Kelly Boyce

own patterns, of which this was one.

      “I suppose it’s a far cry from what I wore when I left.”

      When she’d left, she’d barely had more than the worn-out clothes on her back, a suitcase full of bad memories and a broken heart. Now she returned a woman of some means, with the knowledge of how to run her own business and succeed in doing so. Never again would she have to rely on the charity of others or worry where her next meal was coming from.

      “Indeed. Now how was your trip? Never did cotton to riding the rail. Seems a dangerous way to go if you ask me. Thing moves faster than a body ought to in my opinion.”

      Meredith smiled. “It didn’t move fast enough in my estimation. But I’m happy to be home. Happier still to find a proper bed to sleep in.”

      “Come, come then,” he said, reaching past her to retrieve her valise. “Your room is ready and waiting. Top floor. Nicest one The Klein has to offer, just as you requested.”

      “Thank you, Bertram. I do appreciate all the effort you’ve put in on my behalf.”

      “It’s nothing. I’m glad to be of service. How are you doing?”

      “I’m fine.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue but left behind a bitter residue. Her father had returned to Salvation Falls a month before in a casket. She hadn’t seen him since she’d left town. She wouldn’t see him now. The knowledge left her hollow and hurting.

      “Good, good.” Bertram held out his arm and she slipped her hand through it, noting the fine fabric of his coat. Business must be good. With the growth of the town, she had no doubt Bertram’s client list had grown. She was happy to see the old lawyer still prosperous after all this time. Though he spoke occasionally of retirement, she doubted it would ever come to that. He enjoyed his work, enjoyed the people and the challenge of the law.

      He’d been a godsend when she’d needed it most, even if the result hadn’t been what they had both wanted.

      “I was sorry to hear about your aunt.”

      She accepted his condolences with a nod of her head as they stepped inside the hotel and out of the cold bite of the November evening. “It was difficult, but she had been ill for quite some time. In some ways, it was almost a relief knowing she didn’t suffer any longer.” Though she and Aunt Erma hadn’t seen eye to eye on many issues, Meredith had always appreciated the woman who had taken her in when she’d had nowhere else to go.

      “Well, it’s good to have you home. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.” Bertram patted her hand in a grandfatherly gesture that warmed her heart. As much as she had come to appreciate Aunt Erma, her aunt had never been an outwardly warm woman. Meredith had missed the connection a thoughtful touch brought.

      Bertram extricated himself for a moment and went to the front desk where a trio of finely dressed people stood chatting. She looked them over and recognized the rich fabric of the women’s dresses. The younger lady in particular caught her eye. Her dove-gray dress was constructed of multiple pieces draped over each other and the bodice, cuffs and skirt were trimmed in royal blue velvet. Meredith knew from experience the amount of work that went into creating such a complicated garment and could only stare in appreciation.

      The young lady must have felt her gaze and turned. Her ebony hair stood in stark contrast to her pale grey eyes and ivory complexion. A fairy-tale princess plucked from the pages of a book Meredith might have read as a child. Her cool gaze slid over Meredith with little expression before she turned away.

      Bertram returned with the key to her room and noted the direction of Meredith’s gaze. “Oh, heavens, let me introduce you to the Bancrofts. They’re new in town. Looking to buy property and settle from what I hear.”

      She stopped Bertram when he took her arm. “Perhaps another day,” she said. Seeing Hunter had left her rattled. She wanted to escape to the quiet of her room and regain her weakened composure. “I find I’m quite exhausted from my travels.”

      He patted her hand. “Of course, my dear. Silly of me.” They turned away from the Bancrofts and Bertram escorted her up the stairs to her room, stopping outside the door and pressing the key into her hand. “The boys will bring up your trunks shortly.”

      “Thank you, again, Bertram. You’ve made my homecoming much easier.”

      The older man nodded and let go of her hands. “You’ve only to call on me if you need anything. My offices and apartments are still in the same spot. Don’t hesitate.”

      “I won’t.” She leaned in and gave her old friend a peck on his bearded cheek. “Good evening, Bertram.”

      “Will you visit your father tomorrow?”

      She took a deep breath. “Yes, I believe I will.”

      It wasn’t the visit she had envisioned with Pa, not the one she had hoped for, but it was the only one she would get. Sadness seeped into her bones, and with it came a deep sense of regret.

      And failure.

      Bertram’s voice softened. “Would you care for some company?”

      She shook her head and fought back a sudden urge to cry. She had forgotten what it was like to have someone show true kindness and caring. She took a deep breath and swallowed against the lump in her throat. She didn’t have time for tears.

      “Thank you, Bertram, but I’ll be fine. I plan on visiting Bill Yucton afterward.”

      “See if you can’t convince the old rascal to avail himself of my services, would you? He’s yet to hire himself proper counsel and time is running out.”

      “I will. Good night, Bertram.”

      She entered the room and listened as Bertram’s heavy footfalls disappeared down the hallway. The room left her awestruck. In all her years living in Salvation Falls, she had never even set foot inside the Klein’s lobby, though she’d peered inside the doors while running errands for her mother and one day dreamed of seeing the rooms upstairs.

      She was not disappointed. Her suite was separated by an archway allowing for a sitting room in front and a bedroom in back. She could see the bed from where she stood. A colorful quilt in burgundy, white and green covered the thick feathered mattress, and Meredith longed to sink into it. A bell pull hung near the bed, and another one in the sitting room. She had only to give them a yank and one of the hotel staff would arrive to see to her requests.

      What would the townspeople think to see Abbott Connolly’s daughter living high on the hog in her luxurious hotel room wearing the height of Paris fashions? That she was someone to be noticed? Listened to? She hoped so. Because they certainly hadn’t listened to poor little Meredith Connolly, the girl who wore charity cast-offs and whose family struggled to put food on the table. She’d learned the hard way if she was going to accomplish what she had come home to do then she needed to set herself up as someone of account, even if it meant using up the nest egg Aunt Erma had left her.

      She crossed to the bedroom window and pulled back the heavy brocade curtain, letting in what little light remained in the evening. The sunlight was beginning to fade and the moon had yet to make an appearance, leaving the main thoroughfare ensconced in a shadowy haze. Outside, activity was minimal—that much hadn’t changed. Salvation Falls, despite its growth, was still a family town, settled and well-lived. This was the time of day when people went home to their families. In another hour, those without such ties would begin to crop up to take the night air, visit the saloons, maybe find themselves some companionship paid for by hard-earned or ill-gotten coin. The town had two faces in that respect and once the night encroached, the town changed hands. She’d always liked that part of the day, watching the two sides ebb and flow. They rarely seemed to butt up against each other, and in the bright light of the sun they existed amiably enough.

      Her traitorous gaze wandered to the jailhouse, but Hunter was no longer there.

      Had he gone home? Did he have a family now? The thought cut into her, slicing through the well-constructed