Free Taking Aim at the Sheriff by Delores Fossen

there had to have been some kind of communication between him and Rossman and Cawley. I’ll have Levi keep digging.”
    It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, something would finally turn up.
    “Maddox will be hungry soon,” she said, forcing the conversation in a different direction. “He doesn’t take a bottle, but he’ll need cereal or something.”
    “I’m pretty sure Ellie and Mom will be fixing some oatmeal,” Jericho finally said, a muscle flickering in his jaw.
    Ellie, their longtime housekeeper. She probably wouldn’t care for Laurel being there, either.
    “I can’t make this perfect for you,” Jericho said as if reading her mind. With Maddox still in his arms, he headed toward the door and the stairs.
    Laurel followed after them. “At least tell me someone found the kidnapper and he’s been arrested.”
    “Afraid not.” Jericho glanced back at her. No heat this time. Just the same worry she figured was in her own eyes. “Not yet, anyway. But Jax and the other deputies are working on it.”
    Jericho likely had been, too. There was more than worry and brief flashes of forbidden heat for her in those amber eyes. There was also plenty of exhaustion, which probably meant he’d been up most of the night—something she should have done, as well. But the adrenaline crash had gotten the best of her and, despite the nightmares, Laurel had gotten some sleep.
    He led her through the family room, and the Christmas tree with the twinkling lights instantly caught Maddox’s attention.
    “Pretty,” he said. Or rather he said a baby version of the word. And he repeated it with each new decoration. The wreaths on the walls and the gold angels and a trio of stuffed Santas on the mantel.
    “My mom really gets into Christmas,” Jericho said as they passed another decorated tree in the hall. There was yet another small one in the eating area just off the kitchen.
    Normally, Laurel made a big deal out of the holidays, too, but with grieving over her mother’s death and trying to escape her father, the holidays hadn’t exactly been in the forefront of her thoughts. Too bad, because Maddox deserved Christmas. Instead, they’d dodged bullets.
    And she would have to dodge more. Not literal ones this time. But rather, Jericho’s mother. Iris was at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. She looked up, sparing Laurel a frosty glance, but her expression warmed considerably when she spotted Maddox.
    “There he is.” Smiling, Iris put aside the wooden spoon, and wiping her hands on her apron, she walked toward them. She held out her arms, and Laurel got yet another surprise when Maddox went to her.
    Maddox had
met
his grandmother hours earlier when they had first arrived at the ranch house, but Maddox hadn’t been fully awake then. And Iris hadn’t exactly been in a chatty mood, especially since she’d just learned that Jericho was Maddox’s father. Laurel was certain Jericho had gotten an earful about that after Laurel had gone to bed.
    “He’s usually a little shy around strangers,” Laurel remarked. Obviously, though, he didn’t consider Iris a stranger. Or the enemy.
    Unlike the way Iris felt about her.
    After a few snuggles with Maddox, Iris finally made eye contact with her. “I can’t forget that my husband is dead. Murdered. And it’s all because of your family. You might not have pulled the trigger, but you also didn’t help us put Herschel behind bars. Now it’s led to this.”
    Laurel nodded, was about to assure her that she couldn’t forget it, either, but Iris continued before she could say anything.
    “But we need a truce,” Iris said. “Certainly not for your sake but for Maddox’s. Agreed?”
    “Agreed.” It definitely wasn’t a warm fuzzy welcome, but then Laurel hadn’t expected one.
    Iris’s smile returned. Aimed at Maddox, of course. “Are you hungry, sweetie?” Iris asked him. “Because Grandma and Ellie made some oatmeal. Scrambled eggs, too.”
    Laurel noticed the