Her Sheriff Bodyguard by Lynna Banning

Author:Lynna Banning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Supper was agony. Caroline had not realized how much she distrusted people, especially people sitting close together around a kitchen table. Especially males. The other member of Ilsa Rowell’s boardinghouse had lived there for the past seven years, but he was still a man, and a stranger.

Elijah Holst was older, bearded, with snapping blue eyes and a paunchy waistline, but no matter how kindly he looked at her, or how gently he spoke, she felt herself pulling into her shell. Unable to think of a thing to say, she sat staring at her plate.

“Might not look like it,” Elijah was saying to Fernanda, “but these here fingers are talented.” He held out both wrinkled hands for her inspection.

“Si? What can your ten fingers do that mine cannot, señor?”

“Oho!” Elijah grinned at Billy, Ilsa’s son, who sat next to Fernanda gobbling his supper. “Tell ’er, Billy. And don’ leave nuthin’ out.”

Twelve-year-old Billy dumped more mashed potatoes onto his plate and passed the crockery bowl to Caroline. “Well, let’s see, now. Old Elijah—”

“Hold up, son!” Elijah snapped. “Ain’t ‘old’ a’tall.” Billy dropped his head to hide a grin. “Yeah, well, young Elijah there sets type over at the Sentinel office. Printer’s devil, Miss Jessamine calls him.”

“Damn—Darn right,” the old man exclaimed. “Faster ’n a greased pig with them type sticks.”

“And he makes pretty good sugar cookies,” Billy added.

Elijah stared at the boy. “‘Pretty’ good? You mean damn—uh, darn good, don’tcha? You sure gobble up enough of ’em.”

Caroline watched the exchange and tried to talk herself into eating at least some of the food Ilsa had heaped onto her plate.

“Where is Uncle Hawk?” Billy asked suddenly. Caroline wondered the same thing. She’d hardly seen him since this morning. Was he avoiding her?

“Hawk is over at the sheriff’s office,” Ilsa said quietly. “He’ll eat his supper later.”

Elijah attacked another chicken drumstick. “Not hardly anythin’ of interest happenin’ for the newspaper to take note of. Da—Darn near fell asleep on my stool this afternoon. Miss Jessamine let me go home early.”

Caroline caught Fernanda’s eye and breathed a sigh of relief. No news meant no trouble. And no trouble meant no one was stalking her; no one here was intent on doing her harm. She wondered if she would ever be able to calm her jangled nerves, even in a household as orderly and peaceful as Ilsa’s.

With half an ear she listened to “Pass the peas” and “More coffee?” and then Fernanda’s humming while the Mexican woman scrubbed the plates and cups at the sink. The other ear she kept cocked for the hooves of fast-moving horses or gunshots or... She didn’t know what, exactly, just something that would shatter the quiet on this balmy, peaceful summer evening.

She busied herself wiping the plates and stacking them in the sideboard while Billy and Elijah bent their heads together over a checkerboard.

Ilsa made a fresh pot of coffee, and when the dishes were done, Caroline carried a mug out onto the front porch. Fernanda stayed inside; Billy had promised to teach her how to play checkers.

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