Her Colorado Sheriff. Patricia ThayerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Cullen reached for one and took a bite. She watched him chew, waiting for his praise. It didn’t take long.
An approving rumble erupted from deep in his chest, then he smiled. “You weren’t lying, Miss Townsend. This is great. What’s your secret?”
She shook her head. “I can’t divulge that. Maybe one day I’ll want to open my own shop and become a millionaire.”
“The million-dollar cookie. Has a nice ring to it.” He quickly finished one, then reached for another. “Are you going to take over the baking for Bess?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I made a sampler plate of things to take into work tomorrow.”
“A sampler plate? Why did I only get to test oatmeal?”
She hid a smile. “Because that was the one kind you talked about.”
“So if I put in my order now, will you bring me, say, chocolate chip, maybe sugar, or peanut butter?”
Was he flirting with her? Darn, it had been so long she couldn’t even tell. “We’ll see.”
He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m glad you brought these by tonight. I wanted to stop at the cottage to see if you’re doing okay, but didn’t want you to feel I was checking up on you and Ryan.”
Tempting as this man was, she had to ignore the little flutters of excitement. “Thank you for allowing us the privacy.”
“I want you to know that you’re safe here.”
She nodded, feeling her breath locked in her lungs as she recalled the terror of the past few weeks. Would she ever feel safe again? “Why wouldn’t I be safe out here?”
“You were all alone on a ranch, but I’m here now.”
That still didn’t help with her trust issues. Cullen Brannigan made her nervous, not in a fearful way, but in a way that could be just as dangerous.
* * *
ABOUT ELEVEN THIRTY, Cullen was dressed for work. He took his sidearm out of the lockbox he’d decided to keep on the high shelf in the hall closet. He slipped the Glock into his holster, snapped the leather strap over it and adjusted his utility belt. He wore a pair of dark blue trousers, and his light blue uniform shirt with his sheriff’s badge pinned over the pocket. As a detective, he carried only cuffs and his sidearm. He wasn’t used to all this bulk. Since he’d be inside the station tonight, he didn’t put on his Kevlar vest.
He grabbed his travel mug filled with coffee for his twenty-minute drive into town. He reached for his gray cowboy hat off the hook, then he turned the lock before closing the back door. He started for his patrol car when he heard the child’s scream.
What the hell? He froze in alert, then glanced at the cottage to see the place was dark, except for the porch light. He listened and then heard another frantic cry. That had to be Ryan.
He set his coffee on the hood of the car and hurried toward the cottage, but he passed the porch and went around the side to Ryan’s bedroom. He found the window untouched. No sign of any break-in.
Then he heard Shelby’s voice. “It’s okay, Ryan. I’m here, and no one will hurt you.”
Cullen glanced in the window and saw her seated on the bed, holding the child. He moved away, but listened, telling himself it was to make sure they were both okay.
“He hurt Mommy. He’s gonna get us,” the child cried. “I want my mommy.”
Shelby hugged Ryan as tight as she could, but even her secure hold didn’t stop the child’s trembling. She cursed Gil Bryant. He might never have put a hand on Ryan, but he had to watch as the bastard hit his mother.
“I know you do, sweetheart, but we talked about this. Your mother is in heaven. She’s safe with your dad.”
“I want to go, too.”
“Oh, Ryan.” She blinked back tears. “I would miss you so much.”
Suddenly a loud knock sounded on the front door. Ryan gasped.
“Shelby. It’s Cullen. Are you okay?”
She sighed in relief. “It’s Cullen.” She lifted the boy from the bed. “We better go answer the door.” She carried the child with her, knowing she couldn’t leave him alone in the bedroom.
She checked through the peephole to see the man dressed in uniform. “Oh, boy.” She opened the door to the sheriff. He removed his hat as he stepped inside.
“Is everything all right?”
With her nod, he turned his attention to Ryan. “I heard you scream, son. Did you have a bad dream?”
Shelby was surprised when Ryan nodded against her shoulder. “Sorry he disturbed you,” she said.
Cullen put on a smile. “He didn’t, I was headed into work. Since there’s no one around for miles, I wanted to make sure everyone here was all right.”
His empathy drew her. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
He nodded, then glanced back at the boy. “Hey, Ryan, did you know that part of my job is to check under beds and in closets? If you want, I can check yours.”
Ryan raised his head, looked at her, then nodded.
“Okay, I’ll go and make sure it’s all clear.” He winked at Shelby, then took off down the hall to the first bedroom. The light went on, then a few seconds later, she heard, “The closet is clear.” A few more seconds, “Under the bed is clear, too.”
Sheriff Brannigan walked out and toward them. “I checked everything, including shutting and locking the windows. It’s safe to go back to sleep.”
Shelby looked at Ryan. “I think it’s time you go back to bed, okay?”
The boy nodded and Shelby carried him down the hall and into the bedroom. She handed her nephew the iPad and let him look at a movie. She probably shouldn’t spoil him, but they both needed some sleep.
She kissed him on his head, then walked out but didn’t close the door. She came back into the living room and joined Cullen. “Thank you, Sheriff. What you did was very nice.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad I could help, and I thought you were going to call me Cullen.”
She glanced over him decked out in his uniform. “Dressed like that, it’s hard not to call you Sheriff.” Surprisingly, the uniform hadn’t scared Ryan.
“I’m still getting used to the title and the uniform.”
He studied her for a moment.
She was suddenly aware of her thin pajamas. She crossed her arms over her chest, but didn’t hide much. That was the least of her troubles. She had more important things to hide from this man.
“Does Ryan have a lot of nightmares?”
She shrugged. “It’s a new place. He has trouble with change. That’s an issue with kids on the...spectrum.” She wasn’t about to go into Ryan’s medical disorder at this time. “We’re dealing.”
“Since I’m your only neighbor, is there anything I should know about his...condition?”
“Since he’s usually with me, I don’t believe so. He’s just recently lost his mother, and he’s dealing with a lot for a little boy.”
“That’s got to be rough on him and on you.” He looked at her another moment, then checked his watch. “I need to get to work.” He took a card out of his pocket, along with a pen, then jotted something down. “Here is the number of the sheriff’s office, and also there’s my cell number.”
“I don’t need to call you. Ryan just had a bad dream.”
“Whatever