Page 6 of Big Daddy Sheriff

As if on cue, a man’s voice said, “What are you two doing?”

Mindy groaned as she saw her Daddy, Joe, coming out of the store he owned. It was an old building—resembling somethingfrom the Wild West—complete with a covered porch and hitching rails. Those rails weren’t original and had to be replaced every few years, but ones had stood in those very spots for a hundred and fifty years. Even though no one around town rode a horse any longer, they were tradition.

And Big Cedar was the type of town that took tradition seriously.

Joe was strong, broad-shouldered, and handsome with blond hair and blue eyes. He wore boots, jeans, and a gray t-shirt that stretched over his bulging, taut muscles.

“Hey, Daddy,” Mindy greeted him innocently.

The man walked into the street and appraised his wife. “I thought you were going to the playground with Janie.”

“We did go, Daddy.”

He nodded. “But you didn’t stay there. Obviously.”

She gulped. “Well, we sorta, kind of decided to… you know…”

“Pop firecrackers on Main Street?” Joe asked pointedly, his tone making it very clear he’d seen exactly what they were up to.

Mindy groaned and hung her head. “Yes, Sir.”

“Looks like now I need to pop your bottom,” he added.

“Daddy!”

Before the conversation could continue, another man stepped out of a building on the same side of the street as the store, but a few lots down.

James Worden—or Doc as he was called by everyone—was an athletically built man in his early forties. He had black hair with threads of silver, dark, wise eyes, and an easygoing but refined nature about him.

“Hey, Doc,” Joe said. “Did you catch all that?”

“I heard enough to know that our cuties have landed themselves in hot water. And I’m guessing it has something to do with those loud pops I heard. Sounded like gunfire.”

“I thought it was gunfire!” Quinn said. He eyed the naughty women, arching an eyebrow as he said, “That was a mighty dangerous stunt you two pulled.”

“You going to ticket ‘em, Quinn?” Joe asked.

A grin spread on Quinn’s lips. “I reckon they’re too cute to ticket. Maybe even too cute to spank.”

The other men laughed. The women just blushed.

“You’re too soft,” Joe teased, gruffly.

“Yep,” Doc agreed. “Once Littles figure that out, they’ll run all over you. You’ve got to be careful.”

If only I had a Little to exploit that fault of mine,Quinn thought silently. He didn’t voice that, though. He didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. And he sure wasn’t going to feel sorry for himself. Sitting around moping wouldn’t accomplish anything. It wasn’t his style, either.

Before the conversation could continue, Daisy McMillan came out of the small brick building that sat between the marshal’s office and the fire station. She was about twenty-five, had dark hair cut in a bob, and was cute as could be.

She didn’t have a Daddy, but for whatever reason, Quinn hadn’t entertained the notion that she was his Little girl. He didn’t know why, either. She was a wonderfully kind and beautiful woman. He just didn’t think of her like that. Maybe because he wasn’t sure she was even a Little.

And Quinn Hardin was a man who needed a Little.

“Marshal?”

“What’s up, Daisy?”

“Call just came in,” she said. “A motorist reported a young woman stranded out about three miles east of town. They offered to help her, but she wouldn’t accept it. Seemed nervous.”

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