Unsanctioned Memories. Julie Miller
flinched, almost swinging out at the hand that grasped her shoulder. Harry growled in immediate response to her distress. Sheriff Hancock. Quickly orienting herself in the present and shutting off the vengeful commentary inside her head, she exhaled a calming breath.
“Easy, Harry.” She smoothed the wiry hair atop his head, reassuring herself as much as the canine. Curtis Hancock didn’t know what she’d gone through six months ago in Chicago. No one did. Secrecy was a necessary byproduct of her shame. Even if she never felt it again, she had to at least act as if she was normal. She even dredged up a shaky laugh. “I’m sorry.”
The sheriff held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Jessica shook aside his apology, moving on without offering any explanation. “I got my invitation to Trudy’s, but I’ll probably stay home. Since I’ve expanded my business onto the Internet, I’m having a hard time keeping up with orders.”
“Is that why you hired the new man? What do you know about this new fella, anyway?”
Ah. The real reason for the unannounced visit. Curtis Hancock knew just about everyone in the county, from retirement-home residents to newborn babies. A stranger from the East Coast was definitely worth checking out.
Funny how a woman alone seemed to bring out the protective urges in every male. Except one. Sam O’Rourke seemed content to mind his own business and bury himself in his work. She could understand that need to lose himself in something long enough to forget the pain for a while. In the past months she’d treasured finding an escape like that—putting together her Web site to expand her five-year-old business, training Harry. Because the guilt and the pain never truly seemed to go away.
She’d better put Sheriff Hancock’s concerns to rest before he took his questions any further and alerted her family. “Don’t worry. I checked him out. This morning I called his supervisor back in Boston. He said that Sam had taken a leave of absence for personal reasons, but that he’d always been reliable and above reproach.” She smiled and pretended complete confidence in her choice. “I wouldn’t hire some bum with a criminal record.”
“I know you Taylors are a big deal in the city. But out here in the county I’m your first line of defense.” If Hancock could have puffed out his chest a little more when he said that, he’d have busted a button at the front of his shirt. “You won’t mind if I do a little checking on this guy myself?”
“No.” She didn’t mind his interference as long as he didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Just tell me if you find out something, before you let anyone else know.”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks.” She thumbed over her shoulder toward Sam. “Do you want to meet him?”
A soft, guttural woof from Harry alerted her to the gray-and-white tabby cat tiptoeing through the grass toward relative safety beneath the porch. Harry didn’t much mind the cats who’d taken up residence in the barn and took care of the mice. He was more likely to go after the rodents and their larger cousins in the woods. But he was always careful to assert his dominance as chief pet.
“Hey, kitty.” Sheriff Hancock’s portly face creased with a smile. “Here, baby.” He circled around Jessica and Harry and scooped up the willing feline in his arms. “Aren’t you a sweet thing,” he cooed, stroking the cat’s striped coat. “This one’s not full-grown yet. How many of these you have?”
He turned and displayed the cat in his arms as if he’d just picked up a new grandbaby. Jessica drifted back a step, responding to an unfamiliar impulse. “I don’t know. Ten? A dozen?”
“Would you consider parting with one or two of them?” He buzzed his lips, imitating the cat’s purr. Jessica pressed her hand to her stomach, wondering at the sudden knot of nerves that clutched inside her. “I’d pay you a fair price,” he offered.
Right now she was more creeped out by the cat he was petting than concerned about striking a business deal. Something toyed at the fringe of her subconscious mind. The cat. She was scarcely aware of the irregular pattern of her breathing now. “Take the cat.”
“Are you sure?” the sheriff asked. “My wife’s been bummed out ever since we had to put her yellow tabby, Peanut Butter, to sleep. Lord, how she loved that cat. Had her sixteen years.”
Jessica didn’t understand the panic that was sending intermittent shocks of terror through her system. She took a conscious step back, away from the cat. “Take however many cats you want. They’re free. Just take them. With my compliments.”
“Why that’s right nice—”
“Is everything all right, Miss Taylor?” A giant shadow fell across her, temporarily blocking out the sun and breaking the inexplicable spell that had seized her. Sam O’Rourke pulled off his work gloves and stuffed them into his back pocket, circling around the sheriff and stopping at a respectful distance beside her. “I saw the sheriff’s car parked—”
“Just paying a friendly visit.” Sheriff Hancock angled his head to the side to mask how far he had to look up to see Sam’s face. “It’s my philosophy that the law needs to show up from time to time, even when there isn’t any trouble.” He shifted the cat to one arm and extended his free hand. “I’m Curtis Hancock, County Sheriff.”
Sam’s pale eyes narrowed as they studied the proffered hand and the man it belonged to. He paused long enough for the silent duel of wills between the two men to overshadow her own discomfort. Then he wrapped one big paw around the sheriff’s and shook hands. “Sam O’Rourke. My car broke down outside of Lone Jack yesterday morning.”
Sheriff Hancock pulled back, wise to Sam’s subtle effort at intimidation. But he was the one with the badge, and Jessica watched him reassert his authority. “That’s what Ralph Edmonds told me,” he said, informing Sam he’d already been watching him. “So you’re from Boston, huh?”
“Born and raised there. My parents were immigrants from Belfast, Northern Ireland.” That explained to Jessica the hint of non-New England accent in his voice.
“Were they caught up in the conflict there?” asked Hancock.
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate.
Like a fool, Jessica hadn’t even considered looking into Sam’s personal background. She’d checked one work reference and trusted her gut that he was a loner without much of a stake in anything beyond his grief. Maybe she’d just invited some sort of Irish rebel to live in her garage apartment. Very foolish. Her hand automatically slid to Harry’s collar.
“I see.” Thankfully, Curtis’s attention had shifted from her to Sam. Though she wondered at the unexpected relief she felt at having her hired hand join the conversation. “Where you headed?”
“San Diego,” Sam answered. His voice was as clipped and unrevealing as his answer. “Is there a problem with me working here, Sheriff?”
The older man absorbed Sam’s dare with a good-ol’-boy smile. “There’s not a problem for me as long as there’s not a problem for Jessie.”
Jessica felt rather than saw the icy gray gaze sweep over her. But the deep voice was surprisingly warm. “I don’t want to cause her any trouble.”
Struck by the soothing tone of Sam’s low-pitched promise, Jessica tilted her head and caught a glimpse of shadow darkening his pale eyes. A glimpse of what? Regret? The gray eyes shuttered and he looked away before she did. What a crazy notion. It was probably just the terminal sorrow he seemed steeped in that gave a false impression of caring.
As if she should trust her instincts about men, anyway.
Needing to end this torture of doubts and suspicions and constantly being on guard, she tapped on the crystal of her watch. “Oh, Sheriff, look at the time.” She forced herself to smile. “You don’t want to keep Trudy waiting.”
He jumped