10. Elka
Chapter 10
Elka
W hy did I invite them to stay for lunch when I hadn’t asked for help in the first place? Upbringing, plain and simple. In addition to making sure that I was the fittest little girl in all the world, my parents had drilled manners and etiquette into me until it was habit. Apparently, distance wasn’t a cure for that particular habit, so now I was having lunch with the sheriff who was nice enough—friendly as well as charming. And Deputy Vargas who yelled at me, pulled a gun on me, and then kissed me. Somehow my body couldn’t help but respond to him.
Especially when I thought about his body—so big and so, so hard against my back as we got my work table into the basement. Deputy Vargas was a delicious specimen of a man, well-muscled, sculpted even, if those big arms that had bracketed me were any indication. But they weren’t just big and strong, they were steady too, never trembling as we got the table to the bottom of the steps and into its final resting spot. Damn him.
“Do you need any help?” Sheriff Henderson was a nice guy and sharing a meal with him was no hardship. He was handsome as sin, with deep green eyes. Plus, the whole badge-and-uniform thing made him practically irresistible. To some women, but not me.
Definitely not me, because men weren’t on the agenda right now.
Not at all.
I scanned the kitchen and shook my head. “I’ve got it covered, thanks. Have a seat and take care of that thirst, sheriff.”
He winked. “Why thank you, Elka.” The man was incorrigible, and I rolled my eyes at him.
Rather than pay attention to Deputy Vargas as he entered the kitchen, I pulled the cooking pot from the heater and set it on the table so everyone could serve themselves. Next, I pulled out the grated sharp cheddar, scallions, and jalapeno peppers, and placed it all on the table with bowls and spoons. “Dig in, guys.”
The sheriff frowned. “You’re not eating with us?” His spoon fell back into the bowl and I waited for what he had to say next. “If you’re uncomfortable with us being here, Elka …”
“No, it’s not that, sheriff. I need to get things set up downstairs so the rest of my work day flows smoothly. Thanks to your help, I can. Seriously, enjoy it.” I hadn’t planned to eat until much later. Now that I could make my own choices, I ate when hunger struck and not a minute sooner, which meant I could get lost in my work until my stomach growled its displeasure.
“That doesn’t sit right with me, Elka.”
My teeth ground together in impatience and I struggled not to roll my eyes. The sheriff was a good man who only wanted to help; it wasn’t his fault his sense of right and wrong was straight out of the Old West. “That’s too bad, sheriff. You chose to barge in on my schedule and I do appreciate the help, but I’m not eating just to make you feel better.”
“What do you need to do down there? Maybe I can help.” Deputy Vargas wore a knowing smirk that made me want to smack him as hard as I could. I was pretty it was illegal to strike an officer, and since he was looking for a reason to put me in jail, I crossed my arms.
And glared at him. “I don’t need your help.”
“That’s what you said before.”
My chin notched up another inch in defiance and my glare intensified. “I didn’t need your help. I would have gotten in on my own but when two men with guns show up and refuse to go away, you accept the help.”
It wasn’t entirely true, but I knew I couldn’t let Deputy Vargas bully me.
The sheriff gasped and pushed his chair away from the table. “That wasn’t the intent, Elka.” And now he was doing that whole southern gentleman thing, all out of sorts because he took my words the wrong way.
“I know, sheriff. That’s why I invited you to stay for lunch. I made too much and I thought it would give you a nice reprieve from the heat.” Now I was rethinking the whole good manners part of my upbringing because, once again, it caused more problems than it solved. “You know what? Fine, let’s eat.” I grabbed another of my colorful Fiestaware bowls and took a seat. Right across from Deputy Vargas.
“I don’t like this.”
I let out a long sigh and stared at the handsome sheriff. “Eat. It’s a fair trade and now you’ve got me eating even though I don’t want to. So eat. Please .”
“If you insist,” he said and flashed a boyish smile as he pulled his chair back to the table and dug into his big bowl of chili with gusto. “Damn, this is some good chili, Elka. We might make a Texan out of you after all.”
Doubtful, but I smiled at his compliment. And then I made the mistake of looking at Deputy Vargas who wore an indecipherable look that could have been contempt or suspicion. It was probably both. “Is chili a Texas specialty?”
He snorted and shook his head. “You’ll have the answer to that when the chili cook-off rolls around later this month.”
A chili cook-off sounded perfectly quaint and small town, and exactly like something I never would have gotten to do even if such things existed in Washington state. “I’ll have to mark my calendar.”
“What calendar? It seems you don’t keep a regular schedule.” Deputy Vargas’ dark eyes were so intense, it felt like he could read my thoughts.
“I’ll do better to make it look like I’m a productive citizen since the law is watching,” I told him and stabbed at my chili with a spoon, picturing myself gouging out his stupid hazel eyes.
“We’re not watching anyone.” Sheriff Henderson stepped in to reassure me, but his words did nothing of the sort. “Tulip is a small town and we all know everyone’s business, even when they don’t want us to.” His gaze slid to the deputy and I wondered what that was about, but not enough to ask.
Sick of the pretense, I pushed my chair back and stood. “Well, the people who actually care to know me, know what I do and what kind of schedule I keep. Just leave everything as it is when you leave.” This time, I filled a tall glass with tea and walked out of the kitchen with my head held high.
It didn’t mean anything that one surly police officer didn’t like me. I had my work and I had a few friends. For now, it was enough.