Her discomfort extended well beyond the gruesome circumstances, though. Cooper Delaney played a huge role in her distress. He intrigued her, and ticked her off; and those conflicting sentiments wreaked havoc with her already twisted emotions.
His image danced around the edges of her mind, and she easily recalled the last sight of him. His back to her, he stood alone in the middle of chaos, focused and determined as he processed the scene.
The broad outline of his shoulders strained the seams of a soft cotton shirt and faded jeans hugged his body like second skin. One pant leg balanced on the top of worn boots, while the other rested in folds around an ankle.
When he shifted, her eyes riveted on his well-formed derriere, highlighted by the washed-out denim covering it. The immediate reaction of her body caused heat to flood her face, and she quickly looked away.
This up close and personal experience with a murder investigation left her drained and ill-tempered. The Texas Ranger who quizzed her was patient and kind, but relentless. She repeated her story so many times, she was sick of hearing it. About one-thirty, he handed her a bottle of water from his car and let her leave the scene.
She stopped in town for fuel and a snack at a convenience store and discovered she had suddenly acquired celebrity status. Half a dozen people wanted to know all the gory details, and she told them, as politely as she could, nothing. When the cashier discovered she was a guest at Miss Eva’s, the grilling began again, but this time, about the sheriff. In the end, she just paid for her gas and left, her stomach protesting in earnest.
She heaved a weary sigh and pulled herself from the car as the back door of the house opened.
Ms. Benton came down the steps drying her hands on a towel. “My goodness, child, I was worried sick. How are you? Alice told me you found the body. Have you eaten anything? You look exhausted.”
Sam struggled with the sudden urge to cry. Taken aback, she tried to gather herself together. She faced traumatic situations almost daily, and learned to compartmentalize, but for some reason, this situation was different. “This has been a trying day for sure.”
“You come inside this minute.” She put her arms around Sam’s waist, and led her toward the back door. “I’ve got fresh coffee on and lunch is waiting.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but really, you needn’t trouble yourself on my account.”
“Nonsense,” she said as they entered, and urged Sam into the nearest chair, Jack on their heels. “You are a guest in my home. And frankly, you deserve a little fussing over.” She nodded toward Jack. “Has he eaten?”
Again, Sam fought back tears. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as though she knew the woman, had no involvement other than finding the body, yet she felt such sorrow and loss, hot tears hung a heartbeat away. She hadn’t had such a strong emotional response to anything in years.
She pushed the disturbing thoughts aside. “I keep dry food in the car, and fed him around one.” She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. “Thank you…Ms. Benton. You’re very kind.”
“Everyone calls me Miss Eva, and I love having people to fuss over. Makes me feel needed.” The warmth of her smile echoed in her voice. “I put a bowl of water there by the door, and saved a plate of scraps for him. If you don’t mind, of course. Some folks are picky about such things.”
“I don’t mind. And my friends call me Sam. Or did I tell you that already?”
“You did,” she replied brightly. “I believe its short for Samantha, right?”
“Yes ma’am. My brothers thought Samantha was a silly name, and called me Sam from day one.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Two. Frank is the oldest, Thomas two years younger.” She grinned. “I’m the baby of the family, and the only granddaughter. Between my parents and my grandmother who lived with us, I was pretty spoiled.”
“Where do they live?”
“Frank lives in Dallas and Thomas is a cop in Houston.”
“And your folks?
“Both retired. He was a cop, she’s a nurse.” As the words flowed, she relaxed, and some of the tension leached from her body. “Last time I talked with them, they were somewhere near Williamsburg, Virginia.” She beamed at the memory. “They bought this used motor home, and planned to travel the country for a solid year, then they’d vegetate back in Houston.” She shook her head. “That was six months ago. I bet another six won’t be enough.”
The older woman deposited a bowl on the floor for Jack who promptly scarfed up the treat. She returned to the stove and filled another plate with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and green beans for Sam. “I traveled some in my younger days,” said Miss Eva as she placed the food in front of her. “Until one day, I realized everything I needed was right here in Bakersville.”
“I wish I knew what I wanted.” Heat rushed to her cheeks when she realized she spoke out loud. She barely acknowledged the thought to herself much less someone else.
Eva reached over and patted her hand. “When the time is right, dear, you’ll know.” She turned toward the stove. “What would you like to drink? Coffee, tea or something else?”
“Coffee please. I haven’t had my ration of caffeine today.”
She pulled a mug from the cabinet and filled it. “I think Coop needs about a gallon a day.”
At the mention of his name, her heart jumped. “Coop?”
“Uh-huh. Cooper Delaney. The sheriff. You must have met him, well, out there.”
“Of course. The sheriff.”
“Uh-oh. I recognize that tone. Don’t let his blustery I’m-the-sheriff attitude fool you. He’s a sweetheart.”
Her voice rose in surprise. “A sweetheart?”
“Oh, my, yes. Why I don’t know what I would do if it weren’t for him and Jason.”
“Jason?”
“His son. He’s twenty-two and a student at SMU. Handsome as his father and twice as charming.”
Unable to picture the man she met today as charming, Sam shook her head. Efficient, yes; focused on his job and authoritative, certainly, but charming? No way. Let’s not forget sex appeal oozing out every pore.
“Um…what about Mrs. Delaney?” Immediately, she regretted the query. It was none of her business, and she didn’t care in the least. Liar, liar, pants on fire. She ducked her head to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
“Oh, there isn’t one. Not anymore.”
