The Maverick & the Manhattanite

Gage pulled off his hat and grabbed a pair of pajamas out of one of the few drawers in the trailer. Still cold, he stood over the coffeemaker until the brown liquid made its way to the carafe. Even with the long hours he was pulling he still sometimes had a hard time falling asleep, so he’d started drinking decaf at night. He sure as hell didn’t need one more reason to keep him awake.

He poured a cup of the hot coffee then sank onto the sofa that sat across from his television. Turning on the TV, he prepared to lose himself in a ballgame. For a few minutes before he fell asleep, he would think about something besides the way so many of his people were suffering. He watched for several moments before his eyes started to drift closed. He blinked, realizing he was more tired than he’d thought.

Gage brushed his teeth and washed his face, then pulled out the sleep sofa and sank onto the bed. It wasn’t the best bed, but it felt good at the moment. He listened to the game with his eyes closed for a few moments then turned off the TV. Sighing, he forced himself not to think about what he had on his plate tomorrow. Instead, a vision of a red-haired woman sneaked into his mind like smoke under a door.

Gage shook his head, willing the image away.

* * *

Lissa dragged herself out of bed, started the coffeemaker in the room and stumbled into the shower. It would take a few days for her to get used to the time zone change. It might only be two hours different from New York, and she might be an early riser, but five-thirty a.m. was a little too early for her. Inhaling a cup of coffee, she pulled on a set of long underwear, jeans and a sweater, as she ran through a mental list of what she wanted to accomplish today. Hoping she would succeed after riling the good sheriff, she brushed her teeth and put on a little lip gloss, then headed out of her room.

She smelled the scent of fresh coffee brewing along with something cinnamony baking in the oven and bacon frying. Lissa drooled. She’d planned to grab some yogurt from the local store.

A woman’s voice called out to her. “Breakfast is almost ready. Come on in to the kitchen.”

Lissa stepped into the warm room, catching sight of Melba Strickland, the eighty-something-year-old owner of the rooming house, removing crispy bacon from a cast iron skillet. “How do you like your eggs, honey?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Lissa said, noticing a couple of men at the breakfast table. “I planned to grab a bite on my way to the sheriff’s office.”

“No need for that when you can eat the best breakfast in town,” Melba said, then shot Lissa an assessing glance from behind her glasses. “Besides, you look like you could use a little fattening up, and breakfast is included with your room. Sunny-side up or scrambled?”

“Scrambled, thank you,” Lissa said, smiling at the take-charge woman.

“Go ahead and get yourself some coffee,” Melba said, nodding toward the coffeemaker with mugs beside it. “There’s orange juice, too, if you like. What do you have up your sleeve today?”

“Getting more information about the damage from the flood and trying to get a better feel for the layout of the county. I have a mold specialist coming in tomorrow. I’m hoping that since Montana is usually dry that it won’t be the kind of problem we had with Hurricane Sandy.”

Melba shook her head. “Trouble is, not everyone was willing to give up their furniture. If I said it once, I said it a hundred times—you have to get all the wet stuff out of the house, or you’re just asking for more trouble. But I’m an old woman. I don’t know anything.” Melba plopped the scrambled eggs onto a plate along with a large portion of bacon and a huge cinnamon roll. “There you go. Eat up.”

“Oh, that’s entirely too—” Lissa stopped at the hard glance Melba threw at her. “Looks delicious. Thank you,” she said, wondering if there was a hungry dog close by with whom she could share all the food.

She sat down next to an older man who had cleaned his plate. “Hello. I’m Lissa Roarke.”

The man nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gene Strickland, Melba’s husband.”

“I don’t suppose you’re still hungry,” she said in a low voice.

He shook his head and chuckled. “No chance. But I’ll distract her when you’re done. You might wanna fix your own plate from now on. Melba thinks women are too skinny these days and she’s on a mission to change that.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Lissa said. She hadn’t wanted to offend the rooming house owner the second day she’d arrived in the state.

While Gene drank his coffee, Lissa finished her eggs, a slice of bacon and a few bites of the delicious cinnamon roll. When she could eat no more, she nodded in Gene’s direction.

He nodded in return. “Hey Melba, I think we might have a leak in the roof. You want me to fix it?”

Melba frowned. “We don’t have a leak in the roof. We better not have a leak in the roof,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Even if we did, I wouldn’t let you go climbing on top of the house at your age. Have you gone crazy? You show me what you’re talking about, Gene.”

Gene smiled and rose from the table. “I think it’s on the northeast side,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

“Bless you, bless you,” Lissa whispered and quickly rose and wrapped the rest of her cinnamon roll to eat later.

Walking out of the rooming house, she felt a hint of moisture in the cold air. She glanced up at the sky. She hadn’t checked the weather, but she supposed that with those clouds, anything was possible. Shrugging, she headed down the street to the sheriff’s office. The weather wasn’t going to stop her today.

As she stepped into the building that housed the sheriff’s office, she saw Gage putting on his Stetson and looking as if he were preparing to leave.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Mornin’,” he said in return. “I just got a call about an accident, so I won’t be able to show you around today.”

Will immediately piped up. “I can do it,” he offered.

“You have to give the home-safety class for the school kids. Remember? You’ll be busy all day going to all those different places they’re holding class since we lost the school.”

Will made a face. “I forgot.”

“Good thing I didn’t. Those teachers would have been ticked off at both of us if you hadn’t shown up,” Gage said.

“Well, what are you going to do with Lissa?” Will asked. “You can’t just leave her stranded.”

Gage sighed. “Maybe I can get Gretchen Paul to cart her around today.”

Mildly offended by the word cart, Lissa shook her head. “Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble. Perhaps I could rent a car.”

Gage and Will glanced at each other. “Not unless you want to go back to the airport and get it,” Gage said.

“I don’t know. Melba at the rooming house might let Lissa use her car. She might not even charge her,” Will said.

“Not a good idea since she doesn’t know her way around the country. Will, you need to remember Lissa isn’t used to being in a rural place. No telling what might happen if she doesn’t have someone to help her,” Gage said.

Lissa’s stomach knotted at his inference that she couldn’t handle the job she was sent to do. “I think you’re exaggerating. It’s not as if this is Antarctica or outer Mongolia. Most of the roads I’ll be driving on will be paved, and Rust Creek Falls isn’t known for its violence.”

“That may be true, but it’s still a lot different than Manhattan and you just got here. You just sit tight. We’ll figure out something by this afternoon. I need to head out,” Gage said and left her staring after him.

Sit tight? I don’t think so, Lissa thought. “Thanks for the tip, Will.”

“Hey, maybe you better not do that,” Will said. “Gage made a good point. You don’t know your way around,” he said, a worried look crossing his young face.

“I can read a map,” she said, although she would have been much more comfortable with a reliable GPS. “I’ll be fine.”

Chapter Two

Lissa had been just fine until snow had started to fall and the roads turned slippery. After visiting a mom of three on the list Bootstraps had provided for her who needed new carpet and furniture, Lissa wobbled down the winding side road in Melba’s eighteen-year-old Buick. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, but Lissa wondered how Melba could possibly use such a vehicle with Montana’s treacherous winters.

The snow pelted against the windshield and Lissa gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The car veered to the center of the road and she immediately pulled it back into her lane. If she could just get to the main road, she thought she would be okay.

Suddenly, a deer appeared in front of her. Her heart jumped and she instinctively slammed on the brakes. The car went into a spin that seemed to go on forever. She struggled to gain control then felt the sickening sensation of the massive Buick tilting toward a ditch.

“No, no, no,” she pleaded, willing the car back on the road.

Gravity won and the car slid headfirst into the ditch, stopping with an ugly jerk that yanked her head forward before the seat belt wrenched her back against the seat. It took a few seconds for Lissa to remember to breathe. As she gasped for air, willing her heart to stop pounding, she took inventory of herself, wiggling her shoulders and legs. Everything seemed okay, although the seat belt was holding her so tightly it felt like a vise. Pushing aside the discomfort, she glanced around and tried to figure out how to get out of the ditch. She opened the door to get out, but there wasn’t enough room between the side of the ditch for her to open it all the way. Lissa glanced at the other side and grimly noticed that she had succeeded in wedging herself perfectly in the ditch, a feat she wouldn’t have been able to accomplish if she’d intentionally tried.

She groaned. Lissa really didn’t want to call the sheriff. She could see the scowls and disapproval coming and she couldn’t blame him. If she’d followed his advice, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Frowning, she realized Gage wasn’t the only lawman she could call. Will had given her his number. She could call the deputy and deal with Gage’s displeasure another time. She was sick enough at the thought that she’d damaged Melba’s car.

Lissa pulled Will’s card from her purse and punched in his number. The call went directly to voice mail and she remembered Gage had said something about Will speaking about safety to the elementary children. Lissa reluctantly left a message and decided to wait for him to return the call.

She cut the engine and pulled out her tablet to make notes, but she glanced at the time every other minute. It was just after three o’clock. If Will didn’t call soon, she was going to have to call Gage. She couldn’t stay out here all night. Who knew how much more snow would fall in this surprise storm? She was already starting to feel trapped.

Her cell finally rang after eighteen minutes. She immediately answered. “Will?”

“Yes, Miss—Lissa,” he said. “You said you’ve had a problem. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m in Melba Strickland’s car on Route 563,” she said and swallowed her pride. “And I’m stuck in a ditch.”

Will gave a low whistle. “Are you injured?”

“No,” she said. “But I’m going to need some serious help getting out of this ditch.”

“Okay, sit tight. We’ll take care of you. It may take a few minutes to get there since I’m on the other side of the county.”

“Thank you,” she said, relief spilling through her. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s what I do,” Will said. “See you soon.”

Lissa slumped back against the seat and took a deep breath. As soon as she got out of this mess, she was going to rent an SUV with the best GPS available. She just hated that she’d let Melba down by wrecking her car.

Twenty-five minutes later, a male voice called to her outside her window. “Will. Thank goodness,” she whispered and started the car. She pushed the button to lower the window. “Will?” she called, pleased that the snow had slowed to a slight white drizzle.

“It’s Gage,” the man said as she craned to see him.

“Oh, great,” she muttered to herself.

“I guess you decided not to wait until this afternoon,” he said.

“I didn’t want to waste time,” she said. “I’m going to need a giant can opener to get out.”

“Not quite,” he said, as he jumped in front of the car. His facial expression no-nonsense, he waved his hand. “Put it in Reverse and don’t gun it. Steady pressure,” he said.

“Okay,” she said and attempted to do what he’d told her. All she did was spin her wheels.

“Okay, now I want you to rock it. Put it in Drive, then Reverse.”

She followed his instructions and rocked the car. She was still spinning, but she tried it again and suddenly, the car made several inches backward. “Yay,” she cried.

“Good job,” Gage said, jumping to the side of the car. “Rock again a couple times then I’m going to give you an extra push.

She followed his instructions. “Reverse,” he shouted.

Lissa slammed into Reverse and gunned the pedal while Gage pushed and suddenly she was halfway out of the ditch. “Turn the wheel hard and brake,” he said.

The car miraculously didn’t slide back into the ditch. Gage tapped on the door. “You ready to get out of there?”

He had no idea, she thought. Lissa released the lock and scrambled from the car so quickly she lost her footing.

“Whoa,” Gage said, pulling her to her feet. She felt his brown gaze assessing her and something inside dipped. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of leather and a hint of cologne. “Of course,” she said breathlessly. “I’m just embarrassed and I hate that I probably messed up Melba’s car. And I couldn’t get out—” She broke off when she realized her words were running together and took another quick breath. “I’m fine.”

His lip twitched. “Okay. What I’m gonna do now is pull the car the rest of the way out of the ditch. I tow stuff all the time, so this shouldn’t be any different.”

Ten minutes later, Gage was pulling the car behind his truck. Lissa sat beside him as he slowly made his way toward the main road.

“I’m sorry I caused you extra trouble,” she finally said, glancing at him.

“It happens. It could have been worse,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

“I really do know how to drive in the snow. I just haven’t done as much driving since I’ve been living in Manhattan,” she told him.

“You’re just a little rusty. You’ll get better with practice. You just might want to take it easy heading out into the snow. We can’t be digging you out every day,” he said with a chuckle.

“That won’t happen,” she said a little more sharply than she intended. “I’m not here to cause problems. I’m here to help.”

He shot her a quick glance. “Rust Creek Falls needs that help. You just need to remember you’re in a different place. This isn’t Manhattan.”

“I know that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then check the weather and take it seriously the next time you decide to head out into the far parts of the county,” he told her.

He was right. She hated it, but he was right. “Will do,” she muttered.

“Good. Things will go better that way.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Gage pulled into the driveway behind the rooming house. Because of all the snow on the vehicle, Lissa wasn’t sure how much damage she’d caused. Hopping out of Gage’s truck, she rushed to look it over and was shocked to only find a few dents.

“Good grief,” she said. “I was sure I totaled it.”

Gage walked to stand beside her. “Not Melba’s Blue Bomb. It’s lasted through floods, blizzards, bumps, wrecks. Everything.”

Lissa shook her head. “Do you think Melba will be upset about the scrapes and bumps I left on it?”

Gage chuckled. “She’ll be hard-pressed to find ’em. Once you tell her about your little bump with the ditch, she’ll be more concerned about your safety than her car.”

Melba waddled toward them from the back of the house. “Glory be, thank goodness you’re alive,” she said, wrapping her arms around Lissa. “I heard all about it from Nanette Gilbert. She heard from Sadie Brown. I think one of the teachers told her when she overheard the conversation with Will. I was sure you would end up in the hospital after such a terrible wreck.”

Gage covered a chuckle. “It wasn’t all that terrible. She just fell into the ditch and couldn’t get out. Everything’s okay now.”

“Well, you can be sure I’m not going to let you drive if there’s any chance of snow. If you’d been hurt, I don’t know what I’d do. Come on in and let me give you some soup. You can come, too, if you want, Sheriff.”

“That’s mighty tempting, Melba, but I’ve got to get back to the office.” He glanced at Lissa. “I’m sure she’ll take care of you now.”

Lissa met his gaze. “Thank you again for getting me out of the ditch.”

He touched his hat. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Gage walked to his car and drove to his office, the whole time thinking about Lissa and the spark in her eyes. He could tell she felt bad about driving into the ditch. He just hoped like hell she wouldn’t do the same thing again. When Will had called him with the news, it had given him a jolt. Will had wanted to go after her, but Gage had insisted, and now he was glad he had. Lissa had been well wedged in that ditch.

Lissa’s combination of determination and humility got to him. She had a twinge of pride, but it didn’t keep her from going after her goals. She made something inside him rumble and burn, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t have time for any sort of attraction or distraction.

Frowning, he strode into his office building, where a young blonde woman stood. “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to place her. “You look familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gage Christensen, the sheriff,” he said and extended his hand.

She smiled and accepted his grasp. “I’m Jasmine Cates. I’m from Thunder Canyon. I’ve been helping my brother-in-law Dean with some construction projects here in town.”

“Thank you for your help,” he said.

“I’m trying to get in touch with someone by the name of Ann Gilbert. Someone brought some of her furniture in for repair, but the phone number they left is disconnected.”

Gage felt a shot of loss. “Some people have left town. The flood was too hard on them. Annie Gilbert fell and broke her hip just after the flood. I think she’s been staying in Livingston while she gets back on her feet. I can probably find a way to get in touch with her.”

“That would be great,” Jasmine said, an expression of relief crossing her face. “Her furniture was beautiful. We really want it returned to her.”

“Will do,” he said. At that moment, Gary Culbert brought in a casserole dish. “What’s up, Gary?”

“Edith made some extra chicken potpie and she wanted you to have it. She really appreciated you helping us get our cattle back last week,” the thirty-something-year-old man with a cowlick said. He glanced at Jasmine and tipped his ball cap. “There’s more than enough to share.”

A moment of silent awkwardness passed and Gage finally met Jasmine’s gaze. He shrugged. “You want to join me for dinner?”

She bit her lip. “It’s a little early, but...”

“It’s early for me, too,” Gage said.

“Well, you could heat it up in the microwave,” Gary said. “This is good stuff. I appreciate you helping us with the cattle, but I was disappointed when Edith insisted I bring you half of what she was baking.”

Gage chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to tell her I refused her kind offer so you can take it back home with you?”

“She’d skin me alive,” Gary said.

“I can come back in an hour or two,” Jasmine said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

Gage paused a half beat. Well, hell. Maybe Jasmine would keep him from thinking about Lissa. Jasmine didn’t talk as fast as Lissa and she didn’t make his gut twist into a knot. “Yeah,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll see you later, then.”

For the next two hours, Gage took care of paperwork, answered calls and touched base with Will. It had been a hell of a day. He raked his hand through his hair as Jasmine walked into the office.

“Rough afternoon?” she asked.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“You don’t look—” she smiled “—happy.”

“Every day is an adventure,” he said, rising to his feet. “Are you ready for that chicken potpie?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

Gage put the potpie in the microwave and heated it. He pulled out two plates and poured himself a cup a coffee. “We have hot chocolate, coffee and cider. What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“Hot chocolate sounds good for tonight. Thank you,” she said.

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the chair across from his desk. He spooned the chicken potpie onto the plates and set her plate across from him then served himself. “So, how does Rust Creek Falls compare to Thunder Canyon?”

She chuckled. “Rust Creek is a little more rustic, but the people are great. We have a bit more shopping, but the truth is we still do a lot of shopping online.”

“It’s nice of the folks from Thunder Canyon to come and help us,” he said and took a bite of the potpie. It was delicious, just as Gary had said.

“We’re connected in many ways,” Jasmine said. “Why wouldn’t we help?”

He nodded and continued the conversation and the meal, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to thoughts of Lissa. Damn the woman. Images of her red hair and sparkling eyes slid through his mind. Her determination bumped through him. What was going on, he wondered. This was ridiculous.

Finally, both he and Jasmine had finished the potpie, although he couldn’t have recalled much about their conversation if asked.

She stood. “This was fun,” she said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah. It was,” he said, knowing there wouldn’t be a repeat. He couldn’t mislead a nice girl like Jasmine until he got Lissa out of his head. He extended his hand to Jasmine. “Thanks for all you’re doing for us.”

She blinked and shook his hand as if she weren’t quite sure how to take him. “Um, you’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“I’m the sheriff,” he said. “Everyone sees me at one time or another.”

He sensed her immediate withdrawal and wished he wasn’t so distracted by Lissa.

She nodded. “Have a nice night.”

Fat chance, he thought.

* * *

Lissa leaped off her bed in shock as her alarm sounded the next morning. She still hadn’t made the adjustment to Mountain Time. Plus it didn’t help that she had driven Melba’s car into a snowy ditch yesterday. Even more embarrassing was that Gage had rescued her. She didn’t want him to view her as incompetent or a pain in the rear. She hadn’t helped her case by going out in the snow yesterday, but she was too impatient to wait to be chauffeured. There was too much to be done.

Taking a quick shower, she pulled on her clothes and sneaked down the back steps. Avoiding the temptation of Melba’s full breakfast, she scarfed down a granola bar. The temperature was higher than yesterday, but still cold. She blew into the air and saw her own vapor. In Manhattan, she would have worn a hat, gloves and scarf. Today, she wore the same, but it felt more freakin’ freezing. The subway was a lot warmer than the great outdoors of Montana.

She made her way to the mayor’s office and was surprised to find it open at such an early hour. Stepping inside, she glanced around and saw an elderly woman focused on paperwork. Although Lissa has never seen the woman, she suspected this was Thelma McGee, the mother of the late mayor.

“Good morning. I’m Lissa Roarke,” she said, approaching the counter.

The woman looked up from behind her glasses. “Good morning to you. I’m Thelma McGee.”

“I’m honored to meet you,” Lissa said.

Thelma’s eyes softened. “Thank you. You must know about my son.”