Free Capturing the Cowboy's Heart by Lindsey Brookes Page A

replied, half-blinded by the bright light.  She reached for her purse.  It wasn’t there.  Turning back to the sheriff, she attempted a sweet smile.  “I seem to have forgotten my purse.”
    The sheriff raised a bushy brow, his already stiff smile fading.  “So what you’re telling me, ma’am, is that you have no I.D. on your person?”
    She shrugged.  “I’m sorry.  I’m afraid not.”
    He rested an arm on the open window and did a quick search of the backseat with his flashlight.  “Where you from?”
    “Denver.”
    He said nothing as he continued his search of her car.
    “What do you say you let me off with a warning?  I’ll even throw in a pair of tickets to the next Rockies ’ home game.”  She laughed. 
    He didn’t.  Instead, the sheriff stepped away from the door.  “Step out of the car with your hands in the air.”  He aimed the flashlight toward her with one hand, the other curled firmly over the handle of the gun in his holster.
    Surely, he wouldn’t shoot her for speeding.  She didn’t care to find out, so she got out of her car.  “Look, just give me a ticket and I’ll drop off a check in the morning.”
    His gaze skimmed over her, then his bushy gray brows drew together to form a single line.  “Now you listen here, young lady.  We don’t cotton to your type here in our town.”  
    “My type?” she repeated.  What exactly was her type?
    He gave a derisive snort.  “The kind of woman who makes money by tempting men with short skirts and pretty smiles.”
    He was joking, right?   Lacy laughed.  “There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding here.”
    He wasn’t hearing it.  “Save your explanations for the judge.”  Tucking the flashlight beneath his arm, he removed the handcuffs from his belt and pointed toward her car.  “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
    “My back?” she gasped.  Then she stiffened.  “I most certainly will not!”  
    “Excuse me?” the sheriff drawled with a frown .
    “I said no.”  She hated the way he was looking at her, like she was some sort of streetwalker.  “I was speeding, not robbing a bank.  Just give me a ticket.”
    “I make the rules here,” he growled.  “Now turn around.”
    Lacy eyed the handcuffs dangling from his hand.  “I have no intention of letting you put those things on me.  I’ve read stories about this kind of thing”
    “Lady, are you just plain nuts?”
    Before she could reply, Lacy found herself handcuffed and seated in the back of the sheriff’s car.  She sat watching h er car fade away into the darkness through the rear window of the cruiser as it sped off in the direction of what she hoped was town.

 
     
    C HAPTER FIVE
     
    The phone rang, dragging Cade from a deep sleep.  Rolling over, he fumbled in the dark for the cordless he kept on the nightstand. 
    He focused on the neon green numbers of the alarm clock.  One o’clock in the morning.  1:25 to be exact.  “ Who in the world ... ” he muttered and then dropped back onto his pillow with a tired groan , bring ing the phone to his ear .  “Hello?” 
    “Cade, it’s Sheriff Jenkins.”
    He shot upright.  “Sheriff?”
    “I’m real sorry to wake you, it being the middle of the night and all , b ut I’ve got a woman here, and mind you I’m using the term loosely, who insists she works for you as,” he chortled, “a ranch hand.”
    “Lacy,” Cade muttered.
    “You know her?”
    “Ah, hell!” he groaned a s he dragged a splayed hand down over his face.
    “Anyway,” the sheriff continued, “I picked her up for speeding and she had no I.D. on her.  She insists she left her purse at your house.”
    “I’ll check the bedroom , ” he said with a yawn .
    “Mmm hmm, just as I suspected.”
    Still fighting his way out of sleep, Cade said, “Excuse me?”
    “I must say I’m a bit surprised to learn you associate with women like her, but I suppose you do get lonely, being a widower and