Phoebe hurried down the stairs.
Joel caught the door opening again as he held the idiot teenager aloft and lectured. Another woman stepped out. He looked at her long enough to figure out if she was the mother or not. She looked like all the rest of the females but smaller, slighter. A little older. Maybe, but not much. She wore small, thin pajamas that did little to hide the fact that she was all woman. Hell, Joel would far rather be looking at her than dealing with this kid.
She took one look at what was happening and jumped right into the fray. By smacking at Joel and lecturing him.
Joel couldn’t defend himself and the boy from the small tornado attacking him—not without seriously hurting her—so he dropped the boy heedlessly to the ground and grabbed the woman by her arms. He tried to turn her to face him more fully, but she was mighty resistant.
“Stop. Lady, I said stop, unless you want to be arrested for assaulting an officer.”
She had one little finger pointing in his face, but she wasn’t looking at him. No, now her brothers got the rest of her tirade. She had the younger ones hurrying back inside with a few sharp words, under the direction of one of the sisters. The twin females remained on the porch. Watching silently, warily.
Joel wrapped his arms around her and bear-hugged her when she waved her hands around again. He didn’t have time for this. No matter that he was half enjoying having such a sweet-smelling female in his arms again. If she just wasn’t trying to kick him with her bare little feet…
Joel lifted her straight off the ground and held her there, aloft. “Stop. Now.”
“Don’t hurt her, Sheriff! She can’t hear you,” the father said, hurrying closer. He reached out like he was going to try and take her out of Joel’s arms. Joel wasn’t about to put her down just yet. Not until she stopped kicking. “My girl is deaf. I don’t think the hearing aid is on. Battery doesn’t always work right.”
There was a strange man holding her. Phoebe hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but she thought it was that brute, Tom Rutherford, who’d been harassing Phoenix for weeks. He certainly felt big enough to be Rutherford.
She felt his chest rumble as he spoke behind her. Felt his arms tighten around her yet again. He certainly was a large man. Strong.
Phoenix jumped to his feet and charged the cowboy holding her. The cowboy twisted. His arms tightened around her, almost protectively.
He jerked as her brother struck him on the side.
They almost went down, but the man was strong. Big and muscled…and royally ticked off.
He let go of her, and Phoebe scurried away. The man grabbed her brother. Within seconds he had Phoenix wrestled to the ground—and handcuffed. It was then that Phoebe saw the emblem on the side of the SUV.
Oh, hell. She’d just accosted the Masterson County sheriff.
Phoebe pushed Perci’s helping hand away. “Get inside, with Pan and the boys. I’ll deal with this.”
“Phoebe, let Dad deal with it,” her slightly younger sister said.
“No.” She’d deal. She’d made the situation so much worse; it was her responsibility to clean it all up. Phoebe rose to her feet and turned to the man now glowering down at her. She got her first good look at the sheriff.
Even in the light from the front porch, it was hard to miss the gorgeous cowboy in jeans and a white Stetson staring at her. If he wasn’t about to eat her for lunch, she would almost be tempted to stop and just stare at him.
“You.” He pointed right at her. Phoebe stood her ground and refused to look away…
Finley Creek Book 1
HER BEST FRIEND’S KEEPER
THE DESK HAD BEEN his father’s. The position, as well. Elliot Marshall Jr. never thought he’d do more than share a name with the greatest man he’d ever known.
His father’s murder had made sure of that.
The decor had changed in the ten years since his father had occupied this particular office with the Finley Creek post of the Texas State Police. But the desk…the desk was still the same one.
Elliot didn’t know how he thought about that. About how he’d handle the memories of what had been lost.
His father had been damned good at what he did, the best police chief the Texas State Police had ever had. It was what had gotten his father killed—along with Elliot’s mother, younger brother, and sister.
Or so the rumors went.
They’d never found the bastards responsible. Speculation was rampant that Elliot Sr. had run into a nasty and powerful man. The rumors spoke of bribes and kickbacks. Corruption. The very word had a particular stench all its own.
Good or bad, no one really knew the truth about his father. Had his father been fighting the corruption, or had he been a part of it? Questions were still whispered when the infamous Marshall Murders were mentioned.
No one seemed all that interested in finding the truth. There was no way his father had been a dirty cop. It went against everything the elder Elliot had stood for. Everything his father had taught him.
Sitting in his father’s chair hurt more than Elliot had ever thought it would.
He had his father’s old office now, a personal assistant of his own, and a whole hell of a lot of responsibility. The Texas State Police was the smallest law enforcement body in the state. The Texas Rangers outnumbered the TSP ten to one. The post where he sat was the second largest post of the ninety-two spread out across the state. Only the headquarters in Wichita Falls, fifty miles to the northeast, was larger.
He was going to run it as best as he possibly could.
Nothing would stop him. Hopefully, along
