"Yes, but then Sheriff Wiley came along and ripped up the ticket," Casey informed her. "He proved Deputy Holt right. Is that how people see me? Am I the cute and fuzzy bunny that can do no wrong?"

"The only time you're cute and fuzzy is when you've had too much to drink," Dina teased with a grin. "You're making something out of nothing. Everyone knows Sheriff Wiley has an old man crush on you."

Casey groaned and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to be ill."

"You do realize that you don't have to picture men naked when I tell you they have a crush on you," Dina remarked.

"Yet I always do."

"Seriously, you're the one who needs a boyfriend."

Ernest Harford's home was located on the further edge of town and set back on a hill with a long driveway leading up to it. Considering the town's moderate means and casual appearance, the Harford Estate set itself apart with its glitz and glamour. The only other home in town that remotely compared to the elegant estate was the mayor's home only a few blocks away. Despite Ernest's perceived wealth, his was new money. He lacked the style and grace his sister, Abby, somehow managed. Ernest, along with his sister, came into their wealth nearly twenty years ago when a distant relative died and left them several hundred acres of worthless land. The worthless land turned into a gold mine, when they literally discovered gold beneath the property. They sold the land for millions and overnight became the wealthiest families in Darwood Falls. Shortly thereafter, Abby's husband was elected mayor, and Ernest helped run the town from behind the scenes.

Despite the beauty and grandeur of the mansion and estate from the outside, the interior left something to be desired. The elegance of the grand hallway had faded from years of neglect. Personal belongings were carelessly lying about, and it was easy to a.s.sume it had been a long time since the place had been cleaned. Ernest's wife had died nearly ten years earlier and the condition of the home showed it. The doorbell rang. Ernest hurried through the hall for the foyer. He opened the door to reveal Mayor Lance. Neither man appeared very enthusiastic in the company of the other.

"What is it this time?" Ernest muttered and walked away from the door.

Lance entered, looked around, and showed his distaste for the condition of the home. He immediately followed Ernest into one of the nearby rooms. The study was even less attractive than the grand hallway. Papers were scattered along the floor, the garbage can was overflowing, cigar ashes from the ashtray were piled high, and there were at least four empty whiskey gla.s.ses on the cluttered desktop. Ernest took a seat behind the desk and pushed the whiskey bottle toward Lance. Lance declined and removed some old books from the chair in front of the desk. He sat in the chair and appeared less than enthusiastic. A small, gray cat jumped on Ernest's lap and purred affectionately. He pushed the cat off while making a face of disgust for the animal. Ernest puffed on his cigar and blew smoke toward the ceiling. The ceiling was coated with a thick, brownish yellow film from years of cigar smoke.

"So what's the catastrophe this time?" Ernest teased.

"I think Brandon Remington intends to run against me in this year's election," Lance said while frowning.

"He said he wasn't," Ernest casually announced with little interest. "Brandon has a business to run. There's no perk for him to be mayor. He's too much of a 'good old boy'. He'd be bored out of his mind."

"Of course he denied his intent to run," Lance announced firmly, "but I think that's just a story. That whole family has been acting strange lately." He suddenly sat forward in his chair and glared at Ernest. "If he becomes mayor, we're both screwed. It's party over for you too."

"I can't believe you're actually worried about this," Ernest said with a chuckle. He leaned forward and grinned. "You have the law on your side, Lance. Use it. Get Sheriff Wiley to dig up some dirt on Brandon. He was in the military, for G.o.d's sake. There has to be some dirt on him somewhere."

"Sheriff Wiley is going to retire soon," Lance said. "He's been difficult to persuade lately."

Ernest groaned softly. "No imagination," he scoffed. "You control Wiley now more than ever. You can use his retirement against him. Besides, you have three ambitious, young deputies eager to make a name for themselves. Surely, you can persuade any one of them to do your bidding. Isn't Deputy Tucker dating your daughter?"

"Yeah, they're pretty serious," Lance said with a defeated sigh.

"Rumor has it Deputy Holt has it out for Casey too."

"I see you've been talking to Abby," Lance muttered.

Ernest grinned and took another puff from his cigar. "I'm sure I can persuade my boys to pay special attention to Brandon's brood. Grey bartends at the tavern; and Casey spends a lot of evenings hanging out there."

"Persuade," Lance reiterated sternly. "I don't want them hurting that girl."

"Jesus, Lance," Ernest bellowed. "You too? What's this hold Casey Remington has over the men in this town?"

"No hold," Lance snapped. "I just don't condone hurting innocent girls."

"Fine," Ernest scoffed. "I'll tell the boys to use the kid gloves on her sweet a.s.s."

The Remington's large, remodeled farmhouse was nestled in a beautifully landscaped setting. There was a large barn fifty yards from the house with acres of pastures contained within wooden fencing. Several horses grazed within the lush pastures in the afternoon sunshine. Casey stood in the paddock while lunging Storm in a circle around her. Her well-trained horse required limited guidance. With verbal commands, she sent him into a canter. Storm cantered in a circle around her then tossed his head and kicked up his heels.

"Whoa," Casey called to him and hid her smile.

The large horse stopped on command and turned to look at her. She knew he knew what he did. There were times he was like a little kid trying to get away with something. He snickered softly as if laughing at her.

"Yeah, real funny," she remarked then shook her head. "You're bored; I get it."

She approached the horse and removed the lunge line from his halter. She motioned with her hand for him to stay as she slowly backed several feet from him. He tossed his head.

"You're such a brat."

Casey stood several feet away while facing him and raised her hands in the air. Storm threw his head and reared up on command. She lowered her hands and he came back down on all four hooves. Casey laughed softly. She was pleased with his training. He was a smart horse, although sometimes he was a little too smart for his own good. Storm tossed his head and rocked slightly as if wanting to rear again. His ears perked forward with antic.i.p.ation.

"Okay," she sighed. "One more, but then that's it."

Casey raised her hands again. Storm reared up and thrashed out with his hooves while towering high above her. Seeing his underbelly just a few feet away from her face was almost sobering. She lowered her hands. Storm didn't come back down. He thrashed his hooves and maintained his balance on his hind legs.

"Now you're just showing off," she scoffed.

He finally landed and snickered at her, arching his head and awaiting his treat. Casey approached and gave him a treat then firmly patted his thick neck.

"We'll need to practice a little more before we try that with me on top."

"You're kidding, right?" came a male voice from behind her.

Casey turned toward the gate where her brother, Grey, stood and leaned on the top railing. Grey was a lean, tall man only a few years older than Casey was. He didn't have their father's rugged good looks. He actually looked more like their mother. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Not to say he was girly; he just had more of a sweet boy look. He was never going to have their father's muscular build. If he was lucky, he'd end up more athletic, but for now, he was just gangly.

"That was a private conversation between me and my man," Casey informed him.

She looked at Storm and shooed him away. He took off across the paddock and stuck his head over the fence to converse with the pretty mares one pasture over. Casey approached Grey by the gate and leaned on the top rail near him.

"Tell Dad and you're toast," she said firmly.

"And then when you end up on your a.s.s with a broken leg or a concussion, they're going to yell at me," he replied. "I wish they'd gotten me that puppy instead of a sister."

"You're no prize yourself," she said teasingly while flashing a smile.

"Things were nicer around here when you were off at college during the week," he scoffed and straightened. "I don't know how they could stand you at college."

"Why do you come out here? Just to torment me?"

Grey appeared surprised while staring at her with his most serious look. "Of course, why else?"

Casey hid her smile and shook her head. "I'm wishing I'd gotten a puppy instead too."

"You'd miss me," Grey informed her.

She appeared to consider the comment then smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

It was later that evening. Casey finished saddling her gray horse, which was tied to the hitching post just outside the barn. Her father approached and placed his arm across the horse's rump. Casey glanced at him and knew immediately what was on his mind before he even spoke. He smiled pleasantly, as was his usual warm-up for one of his 'talks' with her. She just smiled and continued tightening the saddle's girth.

"I know you hate when I lecture--" he began.

Casey smiled teasingly. "Then don't."

"We've been over this before," he announced with a defeated sigh. "You're twenty-one and have every right to go to the tavern, but I don't like the element that hangs out there. It's a breeding ground for ill-mannered young men."

"You mean the Harford boys?"

"Of course I mean the Harford boys," he said with a groan. "I've heard and seen things that bother me, Casey. They're bad news."

Casey wondered why her father felt compelled to state the obvious. No one needed to be reminded of the Harford boys' reputation. They were bad news since kindergarten. She smiled as she placed her hand on the saddle horn above her while facing him.

"You don't have to worry, Dad," she a.s.sured him. "They aren't going to bother us with Grey tending bar. Besides, you taught me to defend myself."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," he remarked. "There are four of them. Wild dogs always travel in packs. Besides, I'm still allowed to worry. You're my little girl. If something happened to you--"

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Yes, you're a know-it-all twenty-something," he remarked with a defeated sigh. "I'm sure your invincibility b.u.t.ton will protect you from harm."

Casey laughed at him, kissed his cheek, and offered a warm smile. "That's right, so stop worrying. I'll be home by midnight as usual."

He attempted to mask his smile with a frown. "Why'd you have to turn out so much like your mother?"

Casey laughed softly. "Why does she always say I'm too much like you?"

"Well, you know your mother," he replied. "She likes to believe she's a lady. There's a side of her no one would believe if I told them."

"Wow," Casey teased. "Between you and Mom, it's amazing Grey and I turned out so normal."

"Real funny, young lady."

Casey mounted her horse, saluted him, and rode away. Brandon stared after her, smiled, and shook his head.

Chapter Four.

The two-story tavern was located in a clearing along a back road just outside town. It resembled an old farmhouse that had been converted into a bar and was often mistaken for a bed and breakfast. It was around nine o'clock that night, and the tavern appeared alive with activity. The dirt parking lot was already filled with mainly pick-up trucks. There was a long, st.u.r.dy hitching post alongside the building with several horses tied to it. Casey's gray horse was among them. The town was small enough and rural enough that horses were a common mode of transportation, particularly among drunk patrons. Most times, the horses would get their intoxicated riders home safely. On some occasions, the horses would make the journey back alone and some poor drunken cowboy wannabe would wake up in a field somewhere. Country music was heard pulsating through the walls from within the tavern. The rustic interior reflected the farming lifestyle of the town. The old, hardwood dance floor was crowded with men and women line dancing to the country music.

The tavern was a multi-purpose entertainment complex. There were those who came to dance the night away, while others came to drink, socialize, and pick up overnight companionship, and still others who came to play pool, darts, and make a few side bets. Waitresses dressed in jeans and low-cut tops hustled pitchers of beer to the filled tables within the smoky rooms. There were several pool tables in the back that seemed to remain filled throughout the night. The crowd varied in age from early twenties to late sixties. There was always something for everyone at the tavern. Grey busily tended bar and seemed to enjoy the excitement of it. Grey, like Casey, had attended college, but lost interest in his major after his second year. He took time off from college to reconsider his major and lacked enthusiasm to return. With their father's intent to run for mayor, Grey a.s.sumed he'd take over at the antique store to help his mother. Casey unenthusiastically put in her time just to appease their parents. Someone had to take over, so Grey appointed himself.

A moderately attractive waitress in her twenties, Melanie Ridgeway, waited for Grey to refill her pitchers of beer. Melanie, the mayor's daughter, seemed out of place as a waitress in the smoke-filled tavern. With the sort of money her family had, it didn't seem as if she needed to work. Abby certainly couldn't approve of her daughter waiting tables in a bar, so her reason for working there remained a mystery to most. A handsome deputy in his late twenties, Deputy Tucker Kennedy, approached Melanie from behind, spun her in his arms, and kissed her quickly on the lips. Tucker had been labeled the town stud the last five years running, so it was no surprise that he dated Melanie, being from what was considered one of the most prestigious families in Darwood Falls. She pulled away while smiling and smoothed his deputy's uniform.

"Hey, handsome," Melanie announced while grinning. "What brings you here? I thought you were working tonight."

"I just thought I'd pop in quick and say h.e.l.lo," he announced then smiled with a l.u.s.tful grin. "I'm off at six A.M. Leave the back door open for me?"

Melanie appeared to consider playfully then grinned. "I'll be off at two." She pressed against him and ran her hands along his uniform. "Maybe you could slip away for half an hour or so."

He grinned and was obviously pleased with the idea. "Vaughn's working tonight," Tucker offered. "He's not much for radio chatter and probably won't miss me."

"Hmm, then I'll leave the light on for you," she cooed. "Just don't let my mother catch you sneaking in."

"Are you kidding?" he announced cheerfully. "Your mother loves me. It's your father I worry about."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, because he loves you too," she remarked while grinning.

"I can't wait," he replied to her enthusiasm. "I'll see you later."

They kissed pa.s.sionately and with a little too much aggression. Casey and Dina sat at the bar and watched the exchange. Casey rolled her eyes. Tucker finally pulled away from Melanie, grinned, and left the crowded tavern. Dina watched Tucker leave while staring dreamily.

"What I wouldn't give for one night with that man--" Dina said to Casey with a soft sigh.

"I can't believe you're in love with the town stud," Casey scoffed while shaking her head.

Dina looked at her and appeared insulted. "I can't believe you're not."

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Tucker; Casey just didn't care for men who spread the joy of themselves with every attractive woman in town. Most of the men in town were farm boys looking for just one woman to settle down with and raise a family. It was a bit old-fashioned, but she preferred that to the alternative. Casey wasn't actually sure how she felt about the whole marriage and motherhood gig. Maybe she needed the right man to come into her life. Melanie collected her filled tray from Grey and hurried away from the bar. Grey approached his sister and Dina, leaned on the bar near them, and grinned deviously.

"Is Dina drooling over Deputy Tucker again?" Grey asked.

Dina smirked her disapproval to his teasing. "You're just jealous because half the women in town want him."

"d.a.m.ned right," Grey replied and straightened. "There should be a law against one man having that many women chasing him."

"I think I left something in my car," Dina announced.

"Sure you did," Casey said with a laugh.

Dina hurried across the tavern and nearly ran out the door after Tucker. Casey disapproved of Dina's current secret crush. If it wasn't bad enough that she wanted anything to do with a man Melanie was involved with, it was almost sinful for her best friend to be in love with the town stud. He'd been pa.s.sed around so many times; it was almost disgusting.

Grey again leaned on the bar, looked at Casey, and grinned l.u.s.tfully. "So, is Dina spending the night?"

"She does most Friday nights," Casey replied then suddenly looked at him suspiciously. "Why? Are you wondering what time you need to get up to see her running around in her tank top and panties?"