CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Hunter

I 'd already made an excuse earlier to drive into town, even though it was Sunday. That was four hours ago. He wasn't at the clinic, so I returned home. Frustrated. Sick to my stomach. Sad. But then again, how could I be sure? He'd said he was going to sell his car, and if he'd done that, couldn't he actually be at home since he wouldn't have a vehicle?

The microwave's digital clock read ten minutes after six in the evening. Surely, they could've driven back from Missoula by then. After waking from a fitful night's sleep at around seven AM, I'd managed to check the time every ten minutes for hours upon hours. And as embarrassed as I was to admit to it, me and my binoculars had been studying the road at the end of my driveway, the only road to town, to see who drove by.

Maybe I was distracted and missed him driving by. What if he and Charlie had fallen in love overnight and he was at Charlie's right now being seduced by him? They'd fucked all night long in the hotel and couldn't wait to get to the gas station to fuck some more.

Those thoughts, and hundreds of others, occupied my mind all morning until I drove into town at two. No vehicle at the clinic. No lights, either, but it was daytime, and there wouldn't be any indication of whether he was home at this hour. Not to mention, I couldn't keep driving around the block in my cruiser before the neighbors would get suspicious.

"What are you doing in town, sheriff?" the new deputy had asked me when he pulled alongside my SUV earlier. "Something happening that you aren't sharing?"

I'd pointed at the nearest house. "Mr. Lyles called for some help. I lent him a hand moving some heavy furniture," I'd lied.

Fortunately for me, Lucah was new and didn't press me on my bullshit lie. After three more circles of the block, and no signs that Ben had arrived home yet, I drove home. Still miserable. Still sure Charlie had won before I even had a chance.

Setting the binoculars back on the window ledge, I looked around my living room, unsure of how to get my mind settled. I was pretty certain I wouldn't be able to take another sleepless night without knowing if Ben had returned yet.

"What would you do, girl?" I asked Bella. She flipped over on her back, confusing my question with, ‘ Did she want her belly rubbed ?' "You would? You'd get in the Tahoe right this second, Lassie , and you'd drive into town one more time? You sure?" I asked.

I knew I sounded ridiculous, but her tail wagged and she wiggled uncontrollably as I stared at her. Good enough for me. I grabbed the baseball cap I kept hanging on the back of the door for when my hair was stuck to my head and searched for the Tahoe keys.

"Well? You comin'?"

Bella flipped over and sprinted to the door. I flipped the porch light on in case I got home late and headed to the driveway. One more trip to town wouldn't hurt anybody, and maybe I'd stop and have a beer at Smitty's. Or perhaps even better, grab some free dinner at Jill's Diner, even if she wasn't there on Sundays.

As soon as I got to the end of my football-field-length driveway and to the highway, an older model Chevy truck I didn't recognize whizzed by. It was my job to know the vehicles in my town and on the outskirts of the city limits. When a vehicle that didn't belong to one of our citizens came to town, we all knew they weren't local.

I pulled onto the forty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit highway and did my best to catch up to the white pickup truck that had just barreled by. Finally, after needing to speed up to seventy, I was on the truck's tail and flipped my blue lights on. There was a single driver in the cab, as far as I could tell. The driver drove another hundred yards or so until they could safely pull over on the graveled edge of the highway.

I was in street clothes, my baseball cap on backwards, so the driver might have reason for concern. If I found something wrong with the driver or the truck, which had a temporary license plate taped in the back window, I'd have Deputy Michaelsen drive out and handle the fine.

"Hey, sheriff," a timid Ben Hawthorne said when I arrived by his window.

He was the last person I'd expected to see, and the first that I was delighted to see. "Hi, doc. I didn't recognize the vehicle," I stated, leaning against the driver's side door. "And you seem to be in quite a hurry."

"Was I speeding?" he asked. He gestured toward the dash. "The thingy that tells you how fast you're going doesn't seem to work on this truck."

"The speedometer?" I asked. "The thingy that the law requires works when sold as a used vehicle? That thingy?"

He looked lost as he sat there. Defeated was a better descriptor. "I don't know why I bought this," he admitted. "I must look ridiculous in a truck."

"You look cute is what you look," I said, shocked I went with my first thought.

"Cute?"

"Yep. Cute!" I exclaimed. "Your smaller build in this big four-wheel drive. The fancy clothing, and perfectly styled hair. Yep! Totally not the typical pickup driver, but definitely cute."

"Are you okay, sheriff?" he inquired, staring at me as I did my best to act normal.

I was committed to being more open and more likable from now on. Jill had suggested I try that approach after several beers. I was surprised her idea had resonated with me, but here I was, sober, trying to be more likable.

"Don't tell me you don't know that you're cute, doc. You're all the town can talk about and it's already been a month," I stated. "I think after a month, it becomes official."

The look on his face convinced me he was unsure where the real sheriff was. I wondered if I could keep up the cheerful demeanor. I wasn't really an asshole like the past couple of years indicated, but I had gone adrift from being warm and sociable. I knew it was true and hoped to try harder.

"You look different," he said. "The baseball cap and the… the…"

"Approachable appeal?" I interrupted.

Thankfully, he laughed at my joke. "Yeah. That too." I nervously looked away, noticing his front tire was nearly flat. "Looks like you're about to have a flat tire."

"No!" he exclaimed.

He jumped out of the truck. Normally a no-no when being stopped by law enforcement and squatted by the deflating tire. A man like Ben looked completely helpless when they attempted to survey a motor vehicle's issues. His perfectly manicured fingernails tapped on the top of the tire, and as soon as he realized the tire was dirty, he flinched and examined his fingertips.

"Doesn't look good, doc," I offered good humoredly. "We don't have AAA out in the boondocks," I added.

He stood and faced me. "Triple what?" he asked. "Is that a brand of wheels?"

"Never mind."

He brushed past me and looked in the bed of his truck. "Where is it?" he asked, glancing around like a tire might just roll up to the edge of the road. "Don't cars come with extra wheels?"

I leaned against the truck, enjoying the scene so very much. Ben got cuter by the second and I planned on milking this for as long as I possibly could. "Are you looking for a spare tire?" I asked. "Or a wheel? And this is a truck, not a car, doc."

Ben crossed his arms and gave me a look that I'd been on the receiving end of many times in the past. Mark hated when I did this, and apparently, so did Ben.

"Don't be so mean, sheriff," he said, uncrossing his arms and checking his watch. "I just dropped Charlie off and now I'll need his help."

"Doing?"

"Changing that goddamned wheel," he replied. "I don't know about things like wheels. Fuck!" he fumed. "Why'd I buy this thing?"

I smiled at him, which only seemed to infuriate him more. "I'm sorry, Ben. But I happen to think that you made a very smart decision with this purchase," I began. "Winter is coming in a few months, and trust me, you'll need the four-wheel-drive capabilities of this vehicle."

"That's what Charlie said," he muttered.

I won't lie; hearing him mention Charlie again did nothing for my likability routine. I hated that he'd just spent the past day with him. And overnight, doing God knows what. But Jill had suggested being likable, helpful, friendly, the usual Hunter type personality traits, and that all of it would come back… eventually.

I pushed Charlie from my thoughts. "You're not going to like this, doc, but how about we slowly hobble a mile back to my place and I show you how to change a flat tire?" I suggested. "I'll even show you where the spare is located."

He looked at me as he decided what part of my idea he liked or didn't like. "The spare isn't in the trunk?"

I bit my tongue immediately. No sense in laughing about how incredibly cute he was. "You don't actually have a trunk in this vehicle," I said. "It'd be nice, I bet, but you don't."

"I'd like a trunk," he murmured.

"I know you would." I soothed, locks around my heart clicking open. "Hop back in, do a U-turn, and then follow me slowly to my place. I'll show you how to change a tire while we still have daylight."

"I'm hungry too," he added.

Click-click. More locks opening. "I'll fix that too."

"Okay," he said, lifting his eyes toward me. "I'm useless, aren't I?"

"No way!" I disagreed. "Remember, I think you're cute."

Perhaps Jill had been right, and I could find the old Hunter. Practice makes perfect. Ben was perfect, and I wanted to practice.

Click-click.