Santa's Sweetheart (The Christmas Tree Ranch #4)(3)
Sam reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “If I was mayor, who’d be sheriff? That’s my job, and I like it. Being mayor would be boring—sitting behind a desk and listening to people complain all day.”
“Oh. Okay.” The music had changed to “Here Comes Santa Claus,” and now Connie was coming back with their shakes. Maybe this would be a good time to mention getting a Christmas tree. But on second thought, that could wait. Sam never wanted to talk about Christmas, and Maggie didn’t want to spoil their good time. But the girlfriend thing—if she wanted that to happen by Christmas, she would have to move fast.
On Sunday morning they went to church. Fran Conroy, who played the organ, was a pretty, blond woman, and a widow. Every time she passed Big Sam in the aisle or the doorway of the church, she gave him a smile that reminded Maggie of a model in a toothpaste ad.
Maggie could tell that Fran was interested in her dad. But a few weeks ago, Fran had scolded her for running in the hall when she was late for Sunday school class. The woman had acted mean. She’d even shaken her finger, almost touching Maggie’s nose. Some of the kids were scared of her. Maggie wasn’t scared, but she certainly didn’t want Sam to have a mean girlfriend, or especially a mean wife, should he decide to get married.
On Sunday evening, Maggie and her dad stayed home. Sam read his new mystery book while Maggie watched more Christmas specials on TV. But her thoughts weren’t staying on the programs. She’d wasted three whole days and hadn’t even come close to finding the right woman for her father. Tomorrow she’d be back in school, and Sam would be back on his regular work schedule. There wouldn’t be much chance for either of them to get out and meet people, including single women. Maybe she was going to need more time. But it was too soon to give up. Seeing her dad happy was too important for that.
*
On Monday morning, Sam dropped Maggie off at school and drove to the ninety-year-old stone building that housed the mayor’s office, the court, the public library, the jail, and the sheriff’s office. Branding Iron was the county seat, but Mason County was small, with most of the land in farms and ranches. The population of the town was less than 2,500. Sam was the only full-time law enforcement officer. He shared the job with two on-call deputies and Helen, his sixty-year-old receptionist and office manager.
Already at her desk, she greeted Sam as he walked in.
“Anything happening?” he asked her, hanging up the leather coat that was part of his uniform.
“So far it’s been pretty quiet, but you know that won’t last.” She shuffled a stack of reports and put them aside to be filed. “So, how was your holiday? Sorry, I know it couldn’t have been an easy time for you.”
“We got through it,” Sam said. “Although Maggie says she’s going to cook us a real dinner next year, turkey and all.”
“Knowing Maggie, that wouldn’t surprise me,” Helen said. “That little girl can do anything she puts her mind to.”
Sam shook his head. “Don’t remind me. I think her new project is finding me a girlfriend. At least she was talking about it the other night.”
“Well, why not, Sam? I know the two of you suffered a terrible loss. But Bethany was a loving, generous woman. You know that she wouldn’t have wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone, and she wouldn’t have wanted Maggie to grow up without a mother.”
Sam felt the same stab at his heart that he’d experienced when Maggie brought up the subject. “Blast it, Helen, are you and my daughter ganging up on me? It’s only been a year. It’s too soon.”
“Evidently, it isn’t too soon for Maggie. Maybe you should listen to her.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Sam said. “Earl’s been gone for what, six or seven years? I don’t see you out there cruising for men.”
“That’s different.” Helen swiveled her chair to face him. “By the time I lost Earl, I was in my fifties. We’d raised our family, done most of the things we’d planned to. You’re still young, with a daughter to raise. Besides”—she gave him a wink—“how do you know I’m not out there cruising for men? Have you put a tracker on me?”
Sam groaned. “That had better be a joke.”
“You’ll never know, will you?” She chuckled as Sam walked back to his private office and settled behind the desk to go over his agenda for the day. He had several ongoing cases to check, a trial appearance in the afternoon, and there were bound to be enough surprises to keep him busy the rest of the time.
Helen brought him a mug of coffee, strong and black, the way he liked it. “If you decide to take Maggie’s advice, I’ll be happy to spread a few subtle hints,” she said. “Once the word gets out that you’re looking, you’ll probably have women lined up outside your door with homemade pies and pans of lasagna.”
Sam sighed. “Helen, when—and if—I decide I need a woman in my life, I can find my own. I won’t need any help from you, or from Maggie. Thanks for the coffee, and please close the door when you go out.”
“Right.” He caught her grin as she sashayed toward the door. Helen was his subordinate, but she was old enough to be his mother, which pretty much put them on an even footing. She’d lasted here through three different sheriffs, and nobody knew the job, the case histories, or the people of Branding Iron the way Helen Wilkerson did.