The Sheriff's Sweetheart by Laurie Kingery Page B

those things unless he cared deeply for her, would he?
    â€œYou’re smiling,” he said, as they neared Gilmore House in the shay. “Penny for your thoughts?”
    She opened her mouth to speak as Sarah’s words rang in her ears about being in love with love. She quickly tempered her response.
    â€œOh, I was just thinking what a pleasant afternoon I’ve had,” she said lightly, as if she spent many afternoons so occupied with a variety of adoring swains. No matter what she thought she was feeling for Sam, it was necessary that she keep it to herself and use caution. A little self-protection never hurt anyone.

Chapter Seven
    S am stretched, feeling all his muscles tense and release, before settling into the chair he’d set outside against the jail. He tilted back in it till the front legs came off the ground and the back of it hit the wall. From here, he could keep an eye on most of the town to his right, as well as the church, doctor’s office and adjoining house to his left.
    He reckoned it was going on six o’clock, but after all that tasty picnic food, he wasn’t hungry enough to amble down to the hotel for his supper yet. No, he’d just “set a spell,” watching the town settle into early evening—and think about the afternoon.
    He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up as he thought of Prissy. He hadn’t imagined in his most optimistic daydreams that the picnic would go as well as it had. Not only had events conspired to allow them to go on the outing without the chaperoning presence of the Walkers, but he had confessed his lie to the lovely lady, and she still seemed to like him. He found her trust in him touching.
    He only wished he felt like he’d earned it.
    Before coming to Simpson Creek, he’d have thoughtthe best thing about Prissy’s innocence was that she would be easier to woo and win, and thus secure a comfortable life for himself. But now he found himself valuing it for its own sake. He’d felt a certain protectiveness well up in him as they talked and shared their stories.
    None of the females he’d spent any time with since leaving Tennessee had cared a lick about his hard upbringing—except that it meant luring him into marriage would not provide them with all the comforts wealth provided. And so his experience with all females besides his sisters had been unsatisfying at best.
    But not only had Prissy not thought less of him because his folks had not been the social equals of hers, but she actually appeared to ache for the hardships he had endured. And though she’d been quick to realize that his confession meant he had lied to her father in front of her about his reason for coming to Simpson Creek, she hadn’t gone all self-righteous on him about it. She’d taken at face value his pledge to make it right with her father.
    Would she have been so sweet and understanding, though, if he’d told her the whole truth? That he wasn’t quite sure he had a relationship with God? That he’d never been a sheriff, that he was nothing but a down-on-his-luck cardsharp, a gambler on the run from a man more unscrupulous than himself? That he had stolen an item of great value from that man? No, probably not. But Kendall Raney would never find him here, and he vowed he’d become the man Prissy thought Sam was—honorable, upright and law-abiding.
    He was going to settle down in Simpson Creek and be the town’s sheriff. He was going to marry Prissy Gilmore just as soon as he could make it happen, and raise up a passel of children with her—little girls with her sweettemperament and prettiness, and boys as wild and fun-loving as he had been, before his parents’ death had brought all enjoyment in life to a halt. Yessir, life was going to be good.
    The only thing that could make it sweeter was if the Walkers came back early with news of a baby and Sarah Walker allowed him to