Page 14 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“I was. Then I got tangled up in your hair.”
“Well, don’t get too tangled. I told you, this ain’t about that.” They followed the flagstones to the front steps.
“It ain’t about your hair?”
“Or my butt,” she said, swinging open her door and walking inside. “C’mon in.”
He followed her in, pulled the door closed behind him. It looked the same as it had before. Neat and tidy, small and compact. Her sofa was a loveseat, with a matching chair and a rocker.
“Have a seat,” she said, with a nod at the overstuffed chair. She kept walking, though, straight through to her bedroom. He knew it was her bedroom because she left the door open when she went through. He could see part of her unmade bed, and something lacy hanging from the nightstand. She took a cardboard box off that same stand, causing the lacy thing to fall to the floor. It was a bra. His throat went dry.
She came out, pulling the bedroom door closed behind her, brought the file box to the mini-couch where he was already sitting, having ignored her suggestion of the chair, and dropped it on the table.
“What’s this?” He knew exactly what it was. He just hadn’t expected to get it this fast or this easily.
“This is everything Uncle Garrett has about the last time your father was in Quinn.”
“Wow, I can’t believe…” He opened the topmost folder and glanced through a few of its pages. “How did you get it?”
She didn’t answer right away so he glanced up. She was frowning at him.
“I asked him, how do you think?”
“And he just…gave it to you?”
She nodded. He was already letting the boxful of information pull him in. There’d been some cattle rustling, apparently. Tearing himself away, closing the folder for good measure, he focused on his benefactor. She was watching him, her eyes sharp, like she was watching for something, or trying to see inside him.
“I appreciate this, Willow. And don’t worry, I won’t let on that you showed it to me.”
She tipped her head to one side. “He knows it was for you,” she said.
“You told him?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Her eyebrows came together just a little bit, forming a crease at the top of her nose.
It was the first time she’d looked at him as if not completely impressed. Had he blown it? “People aren’t as…open where I come from,” he said.
“Prison, you mean.”
Ouch. Was she reminding him or herself? “Even before. I was raised by…employees. There was a live-in nanny, teachers, and household staff. Every one of them worked for my old man before and after me. You know?”
“They were criminals?” Her voice had gone soft.
He nodded, but he was itching to get into those files. And yet, he couldn’t afford to be rude to Willow. And he didn’t want to be. He told himself it was because he might need her help again before this was over, so it was best to keep this fire kindled. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the reason.
He pushed the file box aside. “I don’t like talkin’ about those times.”
“I don’t suppose I blame you.” She frowned at him. “But I have to shower up and get into the office. I have paperwork before my shift tonight.”
And all of the sudden, he wasn’t in such a hurry to get away from her. The file box would keep. “You haven’t had lunch,” he said. “Tell you what. I’ll head into town and order sandwiches to go at the WTD. We’ll have time to eat together if I go right now.”
She tipped her head sideways, glanced at the file box again, then nodded. “Sure. Thanks. Lunch at the West Texas Diner would be great, actually, I’ll have a?—”
“I know what you like,” he said. “And how you like it.”
She raised her eyebrows at him and he winked. But he left it at that and rose to his feet. “I’ll get us a picnic table by the creek, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
