“You might find their courtrooms are a lot smaller than what you’re used to. The benches not as tall.” He held the door open for her to enter.
“What does that mean? Are you saying something because my bench is higher? I’ll have you know it’s that way as an added security measure, which your own marshal service suggested for all judges’ benches.”
“Thank you for sharing that tidbit. I will keep that in mind.”
There was a lot of activity throughout the building even though it was late. He pushed the button for the third floor. The doors opened and he led her through double doors that stood open with lights on, and a couple of people were on phones at desks in the outer office. They waved him through to another door. This one had a nameplate that denoted it belonged to Victoria Parker, Mayor. The large room was empty when they walked in. A woman followed them.
“Mayor Parker wanted me to make sure you were both comfortable. We have some blankets, and I found a couple of pillows, all borrowed from the furniture store across the street. They have done a lot for people who’ve had to stay here. Will the two couches work?”
“This is fine, thank you,” Rance said and she left them alone.
“I’ll take the shorter couch,” Erin said, moving to check it out. “You would be miserable on it, being too tall for it.”
“I’m not even going to argue over it. And I hope you don’t snore.” Rance sat and began removing his rain boots.
“I don’t snore. I say the same to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I haven’t stayed awake to listen,” she tossed the sarcastic-tinged response in his direction before plumping the pillow beneath her head.
“If I wasn’t so tired, I might try to laugh at that witty response. I’ll let you know in a few hours if you do snore.”
“Good night, Marshal Parker.”
“Good night, Judge.”
He flipped the light switch on the table lamp and darkness surrounded them.
Chapter Ten
“You look a little scruffy there, brother,” Matt greeted him as Rance walked into the café the next morning. There were quite a few people already having the buffet breakfast laid out for them. Rance didn’t take a seat right away, nor did he respond as he normally would have to his brother’s jibe. His gaze was moving around the room. He was looking for a particular woman.
“If you’re searching for a certain lady, she’s in the kitchen making some really great biscuits…look at the size of these things,” Matt said, and held up one.
“Erin made those. You’re sure?”
“Saw her do a batch myself. From scratch. That lady can cook. And I hear she’s available.”
Rance shook his head at his brother. “You’re as bad as our sisters. I thought at least you would understand. Guys don’t go for their families pushing them down paths they don’t choose to go.”
“What guy chooses to go at all? We all have been there…even me. And I was as ignorant as you at first. But then a moment comes, and you realize that you never knew anything at all, until that lady meant for you looked at you and that is that. Then you must listen to your female relatives telling you that they were right.”
“Sounds painful. I need coffee.” Rance left his brother to his biscuits and went in search of coffee…via the kitchen.
He found Erin rolling out a big mound of fresh dough on a long table. But he stopped to take in the sight before him. This woman was about as far from a black robe and high bench than anyone could get. Her apron had caught a lot of flour over it, her hands were covered in sticky dough, there were streaks on her sneakers, and she raised the back of her hand across her forehead very quickly and a smear of the white stuff ended up on her forehead and a few flakes on her nose.
For a second he entertained the idea of pulling out his cell phone and snapping a quick photo. But at that moment, she looked up and caught sight of him. He moved to stand next to her, working to keep a straight face. “I woke and you were already gone. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You deserved to sleep longer. Besides, I wanted to see if I could pull off my biscuit recipe. I’ve only done it a few times because I make so much at one time, I always need to take them to the court and feed the bailiffs. Besides, kneading the dough is a bit of a stress reliever, too.”
“Well, they are a hit, and Matt is out there singing your praises between bites.”
She looked up at him a bit longer than before. “Is that some sort of smirk I see trying to hide so innocently?”
“You do have a sharp legal eye there,” he confessed, “but it is difficult to keep a straight face when talking with you right now.”
“Why?” She stopped what she was doing.
