Declan came through the front door of the sheriff’s office, removing his hat as he entered the room. “Ma’am, how are you?” he asked, coming up to the front counter.

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Declan, we graduated a year apart from each other. I’m pretty sure we can move past the ‘ma’am’ part.”

“That’s true. I s’pose my momma would only toss and turn in her grave instead of plain ol’ rolling over if I were to call you Abby.”

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.” Abby grinned at the middle Miller son, and as they walked to the back to the jail block, she wondered anew why she didn’t find Declan attractive. Well, she did, but in a totally clinical way. He was handsome and tall and kind and...

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