Dreams of Gold by Carroll-Bradd Linda

Author:Carroll-Bradd, Linda [Carroll-Bradd, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Western
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2013-01-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

The iciness of those four words chilled her into silence. Move away from this man’s cold anger, Ciara’s instincts warned. Dash her impetuousness. Mama had always said her fiery temper would lead her into trouble. If only Sheriff Riley hadn’t baited her, she might have taken a few moments to decide how much she wanted to reveal.

The slap of the sheriff’s hand on the wooden table resounded throughout the café dining room. He reached into a trouser pocket to draw out several coins and tossed them on the table. “Miss Morrissey, please accompany me to my office. The information you desire is there.”

Relief over his more reasonable tone flooded through her. Finally, the man would share the information she’d traveled so far to obtain. She grabbed her parasol and walked to the front of the café.

Holding open the door, the sheriff waited, his body rigid and his free hand drawn into a fist at his side.

Ciara glanced at his face and received no acknowledgment from his hardened expression. The door closed behind her with a decisive snap, and she watched in surprise as he strode past without extending an arm in her direction. She raised her parasol and followed at her own pace, fighting the pinch in her chest at his obvious snub.

From this angle, she had a good view of the sheriff’s imposing physique as he marched away. Muscular arms churned like the rods on a steam engine’s wheels, causing his shirt and vest to pull tightly across his back. In just a few seconds, his long-legged stride rapidly moved him ahead.

Other pedestrians glanced his way and scattered from his path. One young girl clutched her mother’s skirts and hid her face at the rapid-fire sound his boots made on the sidewalk. A few brave souls spoke a greeting, but Ciara doubted they received an answer.

He disappeared around the corner of the barber shop. A few moments later, she stood in front of the half-open door to the jail. Being this close to achieving her goal should have made her feel victorious. So, why had a nervous knot settled in her stomach?

“Miss Morrissey, please come in.”

She jerked at the clipped sound of the sheriff’s voice and stepped inside. His voice was firm and calm. If she hadn’t witnessed his bold march through town, she might be fooled into believing he welcomed her presence here in his office.

Never having been inside a building used to contain society’s criminal element, she looked around in wonder.

The sheriff lounged against a battered wooden desk on the right side of the office. Two doors led off this room, both closed.

One she presumed led to the cells, the other probably opened into a small room where she suspected he might sleep. Images of this vibrant man relaxed and at total rest escaped her. Since she’d met him, he’d been constantly in motion—giving orders, searching for clues, seeing to her welfare, but always arguing with her.

After a moment or two, he cleared his throat and extended a hand.

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