The Maverick & the Manhattanite. Leanne Banks

won’t happen,” she said a little more sharply than she intended. “I’m not here to cause problems. I’m here to help.”

      He shot her a quick glance. “Rust Creek Falls needs that help. You just need to remember you’re in a different place. This isn’t Manhattan.”

      “I know that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

      “Then check the weather and take it seriously the next time you decide to head out into the far parts of the county,” he told her.

      He was right. She hated it, but he was right. “Will do,” she muttered.

      “Good. Things will go better that way.”

      They drove the rest of the way in silence. Gage pulled into the driveway behind the rooming house. Because of all the snow on the vehicle, Lissa wasn’t sure how much damage she’d caused. Hopping out of Gage’s truck, she rushed to look it over and was shocked to only find a few dents.

      “Good grief,” she said. “I was sure I totaled it.”

      Gage walked to stand beside her. “Not Melba’s Blue Bomb. It’s lasted through floods, blizzards, bumps, wrecks. Everything.”

      Lissa shook her head. “Do you think Melba will be upset about the scrapes and bumps I left on it?”

      Gage chuckled. “She’ll be hard-pressed to find ’em. Once you tell her about your little bump with the ditch, she’ll be more concerned about your safety than her car.”

      Melba waddled toward them from the back of the house. “Glory be, thank goodness you’re alive,” she said, wrapping her arms around Lissa. “I heard all about it from Nanette Gilbert. She heard from Sadie Brown. I think one of the teachers told her when she overheard the conversation with Will. I was sure you would end up in the hospital after such a terrible wreck.”

      Gage covered a chuckle. “It wasn’t all that terrible. She just fell into the ditch and couldn’t get out. Everything’s okay now.”

      “Well, you can be sure I’m not going to let you drive if there’s any chance of snow. If you’d been hurt, I don’t know what I’d do. Come on in and let me give you some soup. You can come, too, if you want, Sheriff.”

      “That’s mighty tempting, Melba, but I’ve got to get back to the office.” He glanced at Lissa. “I’m sure she’ll take care of you now.”

      Lissa met his gaze. “Thank you again for getting me out of the ditch.”

      He touched his hat. “You’re welcome.”

      * * *

      Gage walked to his car and drove to his office, the whole time thinking about Lissa and the spark in her eyes. He could tell she felt bad about driving into the ditch. He just hoped like hell she wouldn’t do the same thing again. When Will had called him with the news, it had given him a jolt. Will had wanted to go after her, but Gage had insisted, and now he was glad he had. Lissa had been well wedged in that ditch.

      Lissa’s combination of determination and humility got to him. She had a twinge of pride, but it didn’t keep her from going after her goals. She made something inside him rumble and burn, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t have time for any sort of attraction or distraction.

      Frowning, he strode into his office building, where a young blonde woman stood. “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to place her. “You look familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gage Christensen, the sheriff,” he said and extended his hand.

      She smiled and accepted his grasp. “I’m Jasmine Cates. I’m from Thunder Canyon. I’ve been helping my brother-in-law Dean with some construction projects here in town.”

      “Thank you for your help,” he said.

      “I’m trying to get in touch with someone by the name of Ann Gilbert. Someone brought some of her furniture in for repair, but the phone number they left is disconnected.”

      Gage felt a shot of loss. “Some people have left town. The flood was too hard on them. Annie Gilbert fell and broke her hip just after the flood. I think she’s been staying in Livingston while she gets back on her feet. I can probably find a way to get in touch with her.”

      “That would be great,” Jasmine said, an expression of relief crossing her face. “Her furniture was beautiful. We really want it returned to her.”

      “Will do,” he said. At that moment, Gary Culbert brought in a casserole dish. “What’s up, Gary?”

      “Edith made some extra chicken potpie and she wanted you to have it. She really appreciated you helping us get our cattle back last week,” the thirty-something-year-old man with a cowlick said. He glanced at Jasmine and tipped his ball cap. “There’s more than enough to share.”

      A moment of silent awkwardness passed and Gage finally met Jasmine’s gaze. He shrugged. “You want to join me for dinner?”

      She bit her lip. “It’s a little early, but...”

      “It’s early for me, too,” Gage said.

      “Well, you could heat it up in the microwave,” Gary said. “This is good stuff. I appreciate you helping us with the cattle, but I was disappointed when Edith insisted I bring you half of what she was baking.”

      Gage chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to tell her I refused her kind offer so you can take it back home with you?”

      “She’d skin me alive,” Gary said.

      “I can come back in an hour or two,” Jasmine said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

      Gage paused a half beat. Well, hell. Maybe Jasmine would keep him from thinking about Lissa. Jasmine didn’t talk as fast as Lissa and she didn’t make his gut twist into a knot. “Yeah,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll see you later, then.”

      For the next two hours, Gage took care of paperwork, answered calls and touched base with Will. It had been a hell of a day. He raked his hand through his hair as Jasmine walked into the office.

      “Rough afternoon?” she asked.

      He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

      “You don’t look—” she smiled “—happy.”

      “Every day is an adventure,” he said, rising to his feet. “Are you ready for that chicken potpie?”

      “Sounds good to me,” she said.

      Gage put the potpie in the microwave and heated it. He pulled out two plates and poured himself a cup a coffee. “We have hot chocolate, coffee and cider. What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

      “Hot chocolate sounds good for tonight. Thank you,” she said.

      “Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the chair across from his desk. He spooned the chicken potpie onto the plates and set her plate across from him then served himself. “So, how does Rust Creek Falls compare to Thunder Canyon?”

      She chuckled. “Rust Creek is a little more rustic, but the people are great. We have a bit more shopping, but the truth is we still do a lot of shopping online.”

      “It’s nice of the folks from Thunder Canyon to come and help us,” he said and took a bite of the potpie. It was delicious, just as Gary had said.

      “We’re connected in many ways,” Jasmine said. “Why wouldn’t we help?”

      He nodded and continued the conversation and the meal, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to thoughts of Lissa. Damn the woman. Images of her red hair and sparkling eyes slid through his mind. Her determination bumped through him. What was going on, he wondered. This was ridiculous.

      Finally, both he and Jasmine had finished the potpie, although he couldn’t have recalled much about