There was another stiffen blow, Kassidy stood behind me, nosey as always, I answered the door before they could get a second good hit in. A burly woman stood in a relaxed dignity posture, her hand rested on her hip while the other one balled up at the ready for another knock before I disrupted the flow.
“Morning, folks.” the Sheriff flourished one of those genuine warm southern smiles, tilting her Stetson.
“Good morning Sheriff,” I replied returning the smile. The Sheriff scanned us up and down taking in our lack of clothing, a quick glimpse at my Ford coupe, then back at us.
“A retreat from the city, eh. Rekindling a bit of the old flame?” Keen eyes I thought to myself.
I chuckled a bit from embarrassment. “That obvious?”
“I know city folks when I see’em and I know just about everyone around these here parts. Also, I don’t see too many folks around her with stallions like that there.” She nodded her head at my ford. Her southern accent was deep and proud. With each passing word that left her southern belle lips, I could only reflect on a much simpler upbringing, one completely different from that of the city.
“No, we only come here once a year for a winter getaway, you know time away from the busy city life.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” I said. “Two boys, a four and five-year-old and we both working a full-time job, oh it’s much needed.”
“I know what’cha mean. Two Teenage daughters that alone is enough to make ya wanna get away.” The Sheriff took off her hat, brushed back her brunet hair, and resettled it back to the lining of her brow. The badge that crowned the center of her hat glittered in the morning sun. Her hands rest back down at her side on her belt. The gun on her hip wasn’t standard issue, but a later model sidearm, a Smith & Wesson model 19, it gleamed at the very touch of light. It was well polished, well taken care of.