Page 23 of Dusty
“Nothing,” Antonio said firmly. “I made a promise to Sharon. I didn’t confirm or deny knowing her whereabouts. But Dusty,” he leaned closer, “the longer she stays hidden, the worse it looks.”
Dusty glanced through the window, catching sight of Sharon laughing at something Douglas said. She held up two ornaments, glancing between them, before handing a red glass ball to Jamie. Something tightened in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since before his engagement imploded three years ago. He’d thought his heart was broken when Karen decided she wanted to move to New York and had begged him to go with her. It would never have worked out; Dusty had already done the big city life and wanted to stay in Shiloh Springs. To stay with the sheriff’s department, and the life he’d built here.
“Keep me in the loop,” he told Antonio. “I need to protect her.”
Antonio’s eyes narrowed slightly, although the corner of his lips curved. “Is that the only reason?”
Dusty hesitated, then admitted what he’d barely acknowledged to himself. “I’m drawn to her, Antonio. I can’t explain it. From the moment I found her stranded at the side of the road…” he trailed off, not having the right words. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”
“Be careful, brother,” Antonio warned. “She’s carrying dangerous baggage.”
“I know. But my instincts tell me she’s not running because she’s done something wrong. Call it a cop’s instinct, but I don’t think she killed anybody. She might not be completely innocent, but I’d swear she hasn’t done anything wrong. The only reason she’s running is because of Madison.”
The back door creaked open, spilling more light onto the porch. Ms. Patti’s head appeared, her blonde hair catching the kitchen light. “You boys planning to stand out in the cold all night? These cookies aren’t going to frost themselves!”
Dusty smiled despite his concerns. “We’re coming, Ms. Patti.”
As they headed back inside, he caught Sharon’s eye across the room. She tilted her head slightly, a silent question in her gaze. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod, though the weight of what he’d learned sat heavily on his shoulders.
The Christmas tree lights twinkled, casting colorful shadows across her face. For now, she was safe, surrounded by the warmth of holiday traditions and the boisterous Boudreau family. But Dusty couldn’t shake the feeling that this peaceful scene was merely temporary, the calm before a storm. Madison was getting desperate, and desperate men were dangerous.
He made his way across the room, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from Ms. Patti. As he settled into the chair next to Sharon, their shoulders almost touching, Dusty made a silent promise to himself. Whatever storm was coming, he wouldn’t let it touch her. Not on his watch. Not at Christmas. Not ever.
CHAPTER NINE
The cottage feltoverly quiet after all the Boudreaus left, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Dusty remained behind, the holiday cheer lingering in the air along with the scent of cinnamon and pine. Sharon began wrapping up the leftovers, and he grabbed the plates still loaded with the frosted Christmas cookies they’d decorated earlier.
She found herself watching him as he carefully tucked wax paper between layers of star-shaped cookies. His large hands moved with surprising gentleness, and she realized how comfortable she felt around him. It wasn’t just the feeling of safety and protection he gave her—it was something more. There was a closeness there, something unique because she’d known him for such a short time. Yet it felt…right.
When their fingers brushed as she handed him another stack of cookies, a jolt of awareness shot through her. She quickly pulled her hand back, hoping he hadn’t noticed the slight tremor that followed.
“I think that’s the last of them,” Dusty said, closing the lid on a tin of cookies. “I swear, Ms. Patti always brings enough food to feed half of Shiloh Springs whenever she gets folks together.”
Sharon smiled. “The Boudreaus don’t seem to do anything halfway, especially Christmas.”
Dusty glanced at his watch. “I should probably be going, let you get some rest.”
“How about some coffee?” she offered, not ready for the evening to end. The thought of being alone in the cottagesuddenly made her uneasy, memories of earlier at the diner and the people looking for her rushing back.
“You sure?” His eyes searched hers, and she wondered if he could read her fear.
“Yes,” she said, perhaps too quickly. “Unless you have somewhere to be?”
Something softened in his expression. “No place I’d rather be.”
Minutes later, they settled in the living room, the Christmas tree lights casting a warm glow over the space. Sharon curled into the corner of the sofa while Dusty took the armchair, his long frame relaxing into it. She couldn’t help noticing how the firelight played across the angles of his face, highlighting his strong jaw and the thoughtful set of his mouth.
A comfortable silence fell between them. The fire crackled in the hearth and outside, light rain began to fall. Sharon watched as Dusty’s gaze darted toward the window at a sudden gust of wind. His vigilance reminded her of why he was here in the first place.
“I know it’s crazy, but I feel like I’m being watched all the time. Especially since this afternoon. Do you think they’ll come back?” she asked, voicing the fear that had been lurking beneath the surface all day.
Dusty’s expression grew serious. “I don’t know, but I doubt it. Rafe and I pretty much escorted them out of town. Told them they weren’t welcome here. But I’m not taking any chances.” He nodded toward his jacket hanging by the door, and she knew his service weapon was within reach. “The sheriff’s office has stepped up patrols around here too.” He met her eyes. “But I promise you, Sharon, we won’t let anything happen to you.”
The intensity in his gaze made her heart beat faster. To distract herself, she changed the subject. “What about you?” sheasked. “Have you always lived in Shiloh Springs? What were you like growing up?”
Something flickered across Dusty’s face—hesitation, perhaps. He set down his mug and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Sharon noticed a muscle working in his jaw, as if he were weighing how much to share.
“No,” he said finally. “I’m not from around here originally.”
