Free Saving the Sheriff: A Three River Ranch Novella (Entangled Bliss) by Roxanne Snopek

He’d never admitted this to anyone. It felt surprisingly good.
    “What about parents? Siblings?”
    She didn’t let up.
    “No way. Your turn.”
    “I stripped down to nothing in the barn,” she said, focusing her attention on the pot again. “Metaphorically speaking. So it’s still your turn.”
    Visions of Frankie, slowly turning to reveal every lovely aspect of her unclothed body, lifting her arms, running her hands over her ribs, cupping her breasts while he watched—
    “Red?” She looked up from the pot. “Come on. Don’t be chicken.”
    He cleared his throat. “I’m not. I just don’t have any scars to speak of. I mean, half the world’s divorced.”
    “I asked about your family.”
    He shrugged. “Nothing much there either.”
    “Quit stalling. If you weren’t scarred, you’d be with them right now, instead of here, freezing your butt off with me.”
    The teasing had returned to her voice.
    Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
    “Fine.” He got bowls out of the cupboard. Despite the topic of conversation, the domesticity was comforting. “My dad was military. We moved around a lot, never really put down roots. I’ve got twin sisters, eight years older than me. They’re married with kids—busy, you know?” He took a breath. “Mom died when I was nineteen. Dad remarried five years later, an army nurse. They’re both retired now but the wanderlust stuck. They’re in Indonesia now, I think. He’s happy. I’m happy for him.”
    But wouldn’t it be great if someone cared about his happiness?
    Frankie nodded. “I guess you’re sort of an only child, too.”
    “More or less.” It was freeing, speaking with a perfect stranger, without judgment or preconceived notions. They’d go their separate ways once this was over, no need to be embarrassed about revealing your true self. No need to fear the repercussions.
    “Everyone needs family, though. If not the blood then of the heart. That’s what Christmas is about, don’t you think?”
    He shrugged. “I guess I don’t think about it much.”
    “Oh, Red,” said Frankie. “That’s so sad.”
    Even conversations with strangers, it seemed, could go too far.

Chapter Seven
    A woof and the sound of engines roused Red out of a deep sleep. That and Frankie shaking his shoulder.
    “Red! Wake up.” A strand of hair slipped out of her ponytail and licked his cheek. “We’ve got company. What should I do?”
    He sat up. Something was different. He rubbed his eyes against the brightness in the room.
    “Is the power back on?” he asked.
    “Would I still be wearing this lovely outfit if it was?”
    She had a woolen blanket wrapped around her shoulders, beneath which the thermals of yesterday still poked. She looked warm and cuddly, like that present still waiting to be unwrapped.
    The sun was out, that was it. And the howling wind was gone, leaving a dense silence in its place. Except for—
    Voices. They were approaching the house, by the sound of them. Zach Gamble, coming to check in on him, no doubt.
    Red scrambled to his feet, immediately freezing. Definitely no power. As soon as he moved away from the fire, he could see his breath.
    The voices sounded louder. Mistral was leaping and scratching at the door.
    “You survivin’ in here?” yelled a woman. “Sheriff LeClair? I’ve got a key but you’ve got a gun.”
    “For God’s sake, Bliss,” yelled a man, “he’s not going to shoot you.”
    Definitely Zach. The door opened, letting in a blast of even colder air.
    “ ¡Hola ?” A head of dark curls topped by a scarlet hat appeared. Desiree, Zach’s wife or fiancée. Or whatever.
    “Hey, Sheriff!”
    The dog whined and squirmed against her legs until the woman dropped to her knees and greeted her, black curls and chocolate shag colliding in a blur.
    “Don’t you push past me, missy. And perhaps you and Mistral can move away from the doorway for your love-in. I swear, Rory’ll have your head for spoiling that