Page 62 of Kissing the Sheriff
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“I can’t believeyou volunteered me like that,” Conrad groused.
“She’s proud, brother, anyone can see it,” Phileas countered. “You know you want to protect her. Yet she doesn’t think she has to be.”
“You’re right. On both counts. Makes me wonder if any of the townsfolk have gone to Snake Canyon since that terrible day. Who knows what’s lurking there?”
“Precisely why you should go with her. Crack shot or no, all that talent is worthless if you’re already dead.”
“Good point.” Conrad finished the corner of the dining room he was painting. “There, that looks nice. It’s brighter in here already.”
“Why do we have to put wallpaper up?” Billy asked. “That’s a lot harder than painting.”
“And how would you know?” Conrad asked.
“Ma made me help her once. It was awful. I kept getting stuck to the paper.”
“You mean the paper kept getting stuck to you,” Phileas corrected.
“Oh, no,” Billy said, shaking his head. “That would mean the paper was alive and trying to stick to me so it could eat me. I don’t want that!”
The men exchanged a look, then laughed. “Well, however you want to look at it, you can do something else while we handle the paper,” Phileas replied. “How does that sound?”
“Fine, but what are you going to have me do if I’m not wrestling mean ol’ wallpaper?”
“Hmm, good question,” Conrad mused. “I’d hate to have you chop wood.”
“I can do that,” Billy said. “Pa makes me chop kindling.”
“Ah, see, brother?” Phileas said. “Problem solved.”
He nodded, then heard the back door open. His chest swelled as Cassie entered the house. “Time for lunch?” he called.
“Almost,” she called back from the kitchen. She entered the dining room. “I just need to put the biscuits in the oven.”
“Biscuits and stew,” Phileas sang. “How lovely.”
“Just remember,” Cassie said. “This isn’t Dora or Jean’s stew.”
Now Phileas looked alarmed.
“Come now, it’s not that bad,” she said.
He smiled and winked.
Conrad smiled too. “Don’t worry, we’re so hungry we’ll eat everything in the pot.”
“I doubt that – I made quite a bit.” She turned and headed back to the kitchen.
Conrad followed. “So did you bring the star?”
“I did.” She took it out of her skirt pocket and put it on the table next to an old gunnysack.
“What’s in there?” he asked.
“A gun.”
“What’s it for?”
