Page 51 of Kissing the Sheriff

“Good morning,” Alma called happily. She came out from behind the counter. “Come for your paint?”

“I have.” He said no more as he approached. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, she’d keep hers closed too.

“I’m sure by now Cassie has told you all about the dance. She said using the meadow behind the saloon and bank was your idea. Is that true?”

“Why wouldn’t you believe her?” He didn’t see his paint anywhere.

“Well, one never knows.” She disappeared behind the counter for a second, popped back up and set a can of paint down. “I’m making a new dress for the dance and it’s almost the same color as the paint you picked out. A shade darker, I think. I told Cassie she should make a new dress too, but she didn’t seem very enthusiastic.” She smiled. “That’ll be a dollar-fifty.”

He took a deep breath. How so many words could escape her at once he didn’t know. He gave her the money and reached for the paint.

“She should wear the blue velvet. I set some aside for her, but she hasn’t bought it yet. I don’t know why, but if she doesn’t get it soon, I’ll have to sell it to someone else. You’ll tell her, won’t you?”

He took another deep breath. Listening to her was exhausting. “I will. Good day.” He hurried out the door and exhaled. “My word.” He was halfway back to Cassie’s when he stopped. “Paint brushes. They’re at the hotel.” He rolled his eyes and turned around.

When he entered the lobby, Phileas was behind the counter. “Forget something?”

“Paint brushes.” Conrad headed for the stairs.

Phileas followed. “Need an extra?”

“So long as you’re attached to it, yes.” Conrad reached his room and unlocked the door.

Phileas walked in, took one look at the pile of supplies and laughed. “Are you planning on using all this?”

“I wanted to be prepared. That, and Alma kept talking when I was buying everything. I thought she’d talk to Billy, and it worked for a time, but then she started asking me questions.”

Phileas laughed. “She is a talker, that one. But sweet.”

Conrad tossed him a brush. “I suppose she is.”

“Speaking of sweet,” Phileas continued, “how is working for Sheriff Laine?”

“Fine.” Conrad put a few things into his tool bucket. “Why do you ask?”

“Just checking. Oliver and I were wondering if you’d been a guest of the jail yet.”

Conrad rolled his eyes. “Really, Phileas, what sort of cad do you think I am?”

“I know you’re not the cold, calculating type. But I’ve seen you with enough women at balls and parties to know you’re not looking for any particular one. Will you ever?”

Conrad set the bucket down. “Are we going to have this discussion now? I would think Sterling or Irving would want to corner me with this, not you.”

“I’m concerned, that’s all.” Phileas stuck the paint brush into his back pocket. “Cassie Laine is an attractive young lady and you …”

“I’m what?” He snapped and didn’t care.

“No need to get upset. I was just wondering if you found her attractive.”

“Of course. She is a handsome young woman.”

“And?” Phileas prompted.

“And what?” Conrad said. At least he didn’t sound as upset. “I’m working on her house. You’ll be working on this hotel. Speaking of which, what do you think of Dora?”

“We’re not talking about her.”

“Maybe we should.” Conrad headed for the door.