Free Love Finds You in Last Chance, California by Miralee Ferrell Page A

Toby. He could think of one person he could ask about Ben Travers’s location. His hard-heeled boots made deep thudding sounds on the rough-hewn boardwalk as he directed his steps toward Sheriff Ramsey’s office.
    The town looked only slightly different from ground level. Trees flourished on the edge of town surrounding Miss Alice’s abode; some farsighted individual must have seen the value that shade would add to the home. A scattering of wildflowers dotted the landscape around a nearby house, and an old oak spread its magnificent boughs over the cedar-shake roof. According to Miss Alice, many of the trees suitable for timber had already found their way to the local sawmill. Three large oaks stood in front of the Last Chance Hotel, but only a few of the smaller pine, cedar, and fir trees lingered on Main Street.
    “Mornin’.” Justin tipped his hat to a woman gripping the hand of a young boy as she stepped out of the mercantile and into his path.
    “Who’s that, Ma?” The youngster’s voice carried back to Justin, but the mother’s reply was lost in the tramp of feet heading the opposite direction.
    Not a lot of people in town this morning, which suited him fine. He strode to the end of the boardwalk and down to the street below. A light rain had fallen during the night, settling the dust. He drew a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the freshly washed air.
    He rounded the far corner of the mercantile and stepped up onto the walk. The door swung open and a woman stepped out. Justin altered his stride and attempted to swerve, but she did the same—right into his path.
    His shoulder struck hers, and the box she carried careened toward the ground. Why hadn’t he been watching more closely?
    She took a stumbling step. “Oh, gracious.” Her hands shot out, grasping at the air.
    Justin abandoned his quest for the box and lunged toward her, clutching her shoulders and setting her upright. He retained his grip until she stood firm on her feet, staring down into the same pair of beautiful eyes that had peered at him as he lay in the dirt in front of the church. He groaned, released her, and stepped back. “I’m sorry, miss. I should’ve been watching my step.”
    A slow blush colored her cheeks and she swung her head, tossing her long hair to the side. “No, it was these miserable skirts. Why I have to wear so much fabric is beyond me.”
    He raised his brows and smiled, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t embarrass her further or dig him a deeper hole. “I see.”
    “I’m sure you don’t, but it doesn’t matter.” She shook out the folds of the offending skirt and then tipped her head and met his eyes. “Oh. You’re the man that Ralph—” She stopped herself with a roll of her eyes. “Now I must apologize. I put my foot in the hem of my skirt and then in my mouth. Papa wouldn’t be happy if he’d heard me.”
    “No need, ma’am.” He retrieved her box and brushed the loose dirt from its sides. “I hope this wasn’t something breakable.”
    “It’s only sugar, so no harm done. But I’m glad it didn’t burst, or there’d be no pie or cookies any time soon.” A quick smile flashed across her face. “I’ve got more errands to run. Good day.” She tucked the package under her arm and headed across the street toward the dry goods store.
    Justin shook his head. First he’d landed in the dirt in front of her, and now he’d nearly knocked her into the street. Hope I never have to see her again, he thought, and then realized that his wish wasn’t entirely genuine.
    Justin forcibly turned his thoughts toward what had brought him down this street in the first place. He stepped off the walkway and across to the sheriff’s office, just in time to see the man himself step out of the door. He picked up his pace.
    “Sheriff?”
    Carl Ramsey spun around, an alert look in his sharp eyes. “Phillips, right? Wasn’t sure I’d see you again, after your reception at the church the