Page 17 of Tucker

Seeing no hope for it, she tried her best to look serene and sauntered onward as if she didn’t have a care.

“Dad,” she called, sending him a familiar, silly wave and hoping she didn’t sound suspicious. “What are you doing here?”

Gabe nodded to the damaged barn roof. “Giving an estimate for repairs, though it looks like a teardown to me.” He pulled off a backward ball cap, ran a hand over his fair hair and stuck the hat back on. “Sometimes it’s cheaper—and smarter—to start over.”

Mr. Jenkins groaned. “What am I supposed to do with the animals until then?”

When Gabe started to answer, she held up a hand, stopping him. “Wait! This would all be good for the camera. Let us get rolling first.”

Mr. Jenkins groused, but Mrs. Jenkins, who was all decked out in one of her better housedresses, preened in excitement. She even wore lipstick, a first as far as Kady could remember.

They were a sweet older couple who still ran their very small farm alone. The barn animals consisted of chickens and a rooster, two cows, an ancient horse and a very sweet mule. The animals were in a temporary enclosure at the moment, but close enough to be included in the shot.

Kady looked pointedly at Tucker. “Are you joining us on air, Sheriff?”

His slight frown lifted in surprise, and he stepped aside. “No.”

Kady tracked him as he moved to a tree farther away, but near enough to still watch.

Cleets, who had been setting up the camera, came over to Kady and did some quick adjustments, pulling up the strap of her dress that had gone askew on her shoulder, smoothing back a long curl that sprang free of her chignon and guiding her to a slightly sunnier spot a foot to her right.

She could feel Tucker staring at her, his gaze almost tactile—and if she didn’t miss her guess, a little disgruntled. She also felt the impatience of Mr. Jenkins along with her dad’s amusement.

They went live with Kady talking first about the past storm and the upcoming forecast, then about the damage that had been done around the area. She’d worked many times with an audience, but never before with Tucker standing so close, taking it all in. His presence disconcerted her, and at one point, she even lost her train of thought.

Her dad, of course, was a natural, stepping in smoothly to keep the flow, answering her questions about the repairs and at the same time appealing to the locals to lend a hand to neighbors hurt by the storm.

Nothing flustered Gabe Kasper, ever.

In that respect, she was her father’s daughter, usually just as unflappable. But not around Tucker. The sheriff had a way of turning her upside down.

What would she do if he never returned her feelings?

“Is that it?” Mrs. Jenkins asked, her wide eyes locked unblinking on the camera that Cleets held.

Kady nearly jumped, then found her professional smile. “Yes, that’s it for now.” She went on with her usual sign-off spiel until Cleets gave her the all clear.

“I want to talk to you before you go,” Gabe said. “Stick around.” Then he walked Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins to the barn to finish going over his estimate.

Cleets started for the van to store the equipment.

And that left her with Tucker. Cautiously, Kady turned to where he stood leaning against a large shade tree. He had his left arm in the sling, his right hand resting on his holster and dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.

Keeping her confident smile in place, she strolled over to him. Her heart beat faster with every step she took. As casually as she could manage, she said, “I’m surprised to find you here, Sheriff.” She couldn’t see his eyes, but a corner of his mouth lifted. “There aren’t any lawbreakers lurking about, are there?”

After two beats of silence, he replied, “Actually, I heard you were shooting live and came to watch.”

Never, not in a million years, had she expected that. “You did?”

He nodded once. “You look nice, Kady.”

Oh, that pleased her. The husky way he’d said her name, the admission that he’d come just for her.

“You look great in dresses.” He tilted his head just a little. “If I had my druthers, though, you’d wear your hair down.”

She reached up for the wayward curl that kept drifting loose. “I have to be professional and...” Her explanation faded away. “You like my dresses?”

He still wore those blasted glasses, but she knew he looked her over, from the wide straps of the sleeveless dress, down to the nipped-in waist and then to the hem of the soft, flaring skirt that landed just above her knees.

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