Page 48 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
“Successfully, if Jeremy’s Maverick is any indication,” Miles said.
“Aw, you just think that because Mav likes you so much,” Riley said, making clear it was meant teasingly.
“But then,” Emily put in, “who wouldn’t?”
To Riley’s surprise, Miles actually looked disconcerted.And when he flicked her a sideways glance, she had the silliest feeling that it was questioning.As if he wanted to know if she felt the same way.
Bolstered somehow by her friend’s presence, she leaned back and looked him up and down as if assessing.“Good point,” she said.
She and Emily both laughed, and Miles looked downright embarrassed.For somebody from his world, she found that rather remarkable.
“I need to get going on my foot patrol,” Emily said regretfully.“And I have to thank you yet again.”She reached up and patted the intricate weave of her hair.“I’d have been late for my shift if it wasn’t for you.”
She sensed rather than saw Miles’s curious look and said hastily, “Why, Emily Stratton, whatever were you doing that made you nearly late?”
Emily laughed, but a touch of pink in her cheeks gave the answer.Riley watched as the pair walked away, the big black dog already a fixture in town.
“She and Tucker seem like a good match,” Miles said.
“Yes.They had some stuff to work through, but who doesn’t?”
“Indeed,” Miles said.“And sometimes they don’t.Work through it, I mean.”
Feeling as if she were treading on wet rocks to cross a stream, Riley said carefully, “Speaking from personal experience?”
“More than once,” he answered, his mouth twisting ruefully.
“I know the feeling,” she admitted.
They walked on, Riley not quite sure why she was feeling tense.Surely not because they had strayed into the very personal?
Another block down they had to pause as a sizeable knot of people made their way into the Last Stand Saloon.
“I presume you know about this place?”she asked.
He smiled and nodded.“Jeremy made sure of that.Showed me the bullet holes and the plaque.He’s even got a book about it at home he made me read.”
“We’re proud of our history,” she admitted.
“And rightfully so.It’s pretty amazing.”
That last had come from a man standing by the door, ushering the last of the crowd in.Then he turned to look at her, his blue-green eyes reflecting the twinkling Christmas lights above, his dark, short beard neatly trimmed as always.
“Slater, hello,” Riley exclaimed with a smile.
The owner of the saloon smiled back at her.“Haven’t seen you in a while.I’ve been a bit…busy.”
“New fatherhood will do that,” she said teasingly.
The man grinned.“That it will.”
“Have you met Miles Flint?”she asked, her manners finally surfacing.
“Jackson’s producer?Not personally, no.”
“Miles, meet Slater Highwater, owner of this cornerstone of Last Stand history.”
“Highwater?As in…the police chief?”
