[Double-C Ranch, Men 09, Return-2] Sarah and the Sheriff by Allison Leigh

Author:Allison Leigh [Leigh, Allison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9780373248193
Goodreads: 1040314
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2007-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Assigned to door duty at the Double-C, Sarah stepped out of the way while Max helped his mother maneuver her weighty cast through the wide doorway. “It’s good to see you, Genna.”

If she concentrated on Max’s mother, maybe she’d get through the afternoon without embarrassing herself too badly.

“You too, dear.” Genna leaned forward and caught Sarah in a quick hug. “Eli is bringing pies from the car, so beware.” She balanced on one crutch while Max helped her work out of her coat. She was dressed in a pretty red sweater and skirt that reached down toward the ankle of her cast.

“Max.” Sarah kept her smile in place as she took the coat from him, and waited for him to hand her his own, as well.

It was the first time she’d seen him since that night he’d come to her house. And even though she’d had two and a half days to prepare for the moment, she still found herself entirely un prepared.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he murmured. His hands brushed hers as he handed over his shearling coat. His expression wasn’t exactly relaxed, either.

If anything, he looked very uncomfortable standing there in his dark gray trousers and ivory fisherman’s sweater.

More handsome than any man she’d ever seen. But uncomfortable nevertheless.

She clutched the coats to her chest. “Everyone is in the living room. Go on in. Make yourself at home, but beware. Squire is playing bartender, already.” Squire Clay was her grandfather. Still standing almost as straight and tall as his five sons, he was opinionated, interfering, and grew more lovably irascible by the year.

She was crazy about the man.

But all affection aside, she knew he could have a heavy hand when it came to pouring a drink.

Genna tucked her crutches more firmly beneath her arms and smiled. “Well, frankly, a drink sounds good to me.” She winked, looking younger than her years, and planted the rubber tips of her crutches to begin working her way through the foyer.

“And that’s why I get to be designated driver,” Max murmured, but at least he’d managed a smile of his own.

A smile that her attention snagged on and they stood there alone, next to the open door for a silent moment that dragged on too long.

He started to lift his hand.

She swallowed and deliberately looked out the doorway that she hadn’t yet closed.

From the side of her vision she saw his hand lower, his fingers curling.

Outside, Eli was slowly making his way through the numerous vehicles congesting the circular drive. His tongue was caught between his teeth as he balanced a pie on each hand.

She couldn’t keep silence up the entire afternoon. “Maybe I should help him.”

“This is a point of manly pride for him.” Max’s arm brushed hers as he looked out, too.

For a moment, she let herself wonder if he’d made the contact deliberately. “Manly pride,” she repeated, amused despite herself. “Carrying pies?”

“Give him a break. He’s eight. And he made those pies with his grandmother. He’s not gonna drop ’em.

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