“Looks like I drug you out of bed.”
Lewis ran a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, I’m working nights this month.”
“Sorry, man. I’ll keep this quick so you can get back to sleep.” Robert scratched his jaw and squared his shoulders. “How do you know Patrick Pendleton?”
Lewis’s brow furrowed. “I don’t, not really.”
“The man contributed ten thousand dollars to your campaign!” Robert sucked in a sharp breath and reminded himself to stay calm.
“Yeah, but I didn’t solicit his donation. He just showed up on my doorstep a couple weeks ago and handed me a check along with a pamphlet from a print graphics company who’d already agreed to do a rush job on my campaign stuff.”
“Did he tell you why he wanted to make such a large contribution?” What did Pendleton hope to gain?
A red flush filled Jackson’s cheeks. “When I asked him the same question, he said, ‘the sheriff needs to be taken down a notch’.”
So it is personal. Pendleton is playing mind games.
Robert hated to admit it was working. Not because he feared he might lose the election to Jackson, but rather because Pendleton was way to close to Jessie, and Robert couldn’t do a single thing to stop the man.
Pendleton was an idiot if he thought keeping Robert from getting re-elected would somehow help him get Jessie back?
“I swear I never saw the man before he showed up on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago. Then he showed up last night insisting on helping me distribute my signs. I don’t know how he knew I picked them up yesterday.”
“Apparently he has a lot of free time on his hands, and he’s been watching more than just you.”
“What do you mean? Is there something I should know about him?”
Robert debated over how much to tell Lewis about the kind of man Pendleton was. He certainly didn’t want to advertise that there was a police brutality suit against himself. Jackson could leverage that in his campaign if he wanted to.
“He’s a dangerous man whose wife has sought refuge here in Providence.” Robert took a step back, preparing to leave. “Do me a favor?” when Jackson nodded, Robert continued. “If you talk to him again and you get a glimpse of what he might be planning, let me know, please?”
“Sure.” Lewis nodded. “I uh... hope there are no hard feelings about me running for sheriff.”
Robert waved a hand in dismissal. “Of course not. I am curious why you decided to run, though. I half expected you to apply to join the sheriff’s department when we hired new deputies last fall.”
Lewis shifted from one foot to the other. “I considered it, but at the time my wife and I were planning on moving back to the Tri-Cities area. But then the house we were looking at buying fell through. We took that as a sign that we were supposed to stay here.”
“Well, if you decide you’re ready to give up the commute, let me know. We can afford to bring on another deputy.” Robert stepped off the porch before turning back and smiling. “And depending on the outcome of November’s election, I hope you’ll consider keeping me on as a deputy if you get elected.”
“I think we both know my chances of getting elected are slim.” Lewis scratched his jaw. “I just wanted my wife to know I was serious about truly sinking down roots here now that we’ve decided to stay.”
“You never know, Lewis. I mean, you didn’t expect to receive such a generous donation to your campaign either.”
They said their goodbyes, and Robert pointed his truck toward the ranch.
* * *
Jessica kneadedthe dough she’d made under Lottie’s tutelage for dinner rolls and cinnamon rolls. Baking wasn’t one of her favorite past times, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction that came with kneading dough.
Instead of using the Bosch mixer, Lottie insisted Jessie needed to feel the dough in her hands so she would know when to stop kneading.
The swinging door opened, and Jessie sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the handsome man standing there dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. No matter how he dressed, Robert took her breath away. But something about his grim expression and the fact that he never came to the ranch at ten thirty in the morning made it difficult to breathe.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice came out a croak.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” If his serious expression hadn’t put her on high alert, his lack of greeting and the gruffness of his tone did.
Jessie’s gaze darted to Lottie, as if the other woman could somehow make everything better.
