Big Daddy Sheriff (Big Cedar Daddies #1)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

“Put the gun down! Now!”

Quinn was in a shooter’s crouch again. In the backseat of the cruiser, Don was still sound asleep.

“We don’t have a gun!” a nervous voice called back.

The smoke cleared and Quinn saw that was indeed the case. Janie Worden and Mindy Graves stood in the middle of the street, looking both guilty and terrified.

Not to mention adorable.

Janie was in her early thirties and had raven hair that fell past her shoulders. Her lipstick was bright red, and she always reminded Quinn of a pinup girl out of the 1940s. Her ample curves propelled that image right along, too.

Mindy was younger—by about five years or so—and had blond hair she wore in a pixie cut. She was tall and slender.

Both women were clearly currently in Little space.

Janie wore a short pink dress with lots of lace and bows. It covered the ruffled panties she had on, but only barely.

Mindy was clad in a pink and white short romper.

Quinn quickly put his gun away and stood straight. He was smiling when he walked toward them. “Girls, what are y’all doing out here?”

The women blushed.

“Well, you see, Uncle Quinn…” Mindy said. “We had some leftover firecrackers. You know, from the Fourth of July. So we…”

“Set ‘em off right on Main Street,” Quinn finished for her.

Mindy hung her head. “Yes, sir.”

The lawman couldn’t help but chuckle as his smile grew. These cuties were handfuls, that was for sure. They kept their respective Daddies on their toes.

“We didn’t mean to startle you,” Janie said. “We promise, Uncle Quinn!”

He scratched his jawline as he thought it over. “I reckon I’m just a little on edge. Got a call a while ago that someone was shooting outside of town.” He jerked his head toward the idling cruiser. “Turned out it was just Don. Still, I’ve had enough gunfire for one day.” He grinned again as he leveled a pointed stare at the Littles. “You two do realize there’s an ordinance about setting off fireworks within town limits. Right?”

“These are just firecrackers,” Mindy tried.

Quinn shook his head. “Still counts, honey.”

“Are we gonna get a ticket?” Mindy asked, her eyes wide with horror.

“Honey, you know I’m not going to do that.”

“Are you going to tell our Daddies?” Janie asked in a deflated voice.

“Well, I reckon they know. You popped those right here on Main Street in front of God and everybody,” Quinn said.

As if on cue, a man’s voice said, “What are you two doing?”

Mindy groaned as she saw her Daddy, Joe, coming out of the store he owned. It was an old building—resembling something from the Wild West—complete with a covered porch and hitching rails. Those rails weren’t original and had to be replaced every few years, but ones had stood in those very spots for a hundred and fifty years. Even though no one around town rode a horse any longer, they were tradition.

And Big Cedar was the type of town that took tradition seriously.

Joe was strong, broad-shouldered, and handsome with blond hair and blue eyes. He wore boots, jeans, and a gray t-shirt that stretched over his bulging, taut muscles.

“Hey, Daddy,” Mindy greeted him innocently.

The man walked into the street and appraised his wife. “I thought you were going to the playground with Janie.”

“We did go, Daddy.”

He nodded. “But you didn’t stay there. Obviously.”

She gulped. “Well, we sorta, kind of decided to… you know…”

“Pop firecrackers on Main Street?” Joe asked pointedly, his tone making it very clear he’d seen exactly what they were up to.

Mindy groaned and hung her head. “Yes, Sir.”

“Looks like now I need to pop your bottom,” he added.

“Daddy!”

Before the conversation could continue, another man stepped out of a building on the same side of the street as the store, but a few lots down.

James Worden—or Doc as he was called by everyone—was an athletically built man in his early forties. He had black hair with threads of silver, dark, wise eyes, and an easygoing but refined nature about him.

“Hey, Doc,” Joe said. “Did you catch all that?”

“I heard enough to know that our cuties have landed themselves in hot water. And I’m guessing it has something to do with those loud pops I heard. Sounded like gunfire.”

“I thought it was gunfire!” Quinn said. He eyed the naughty women, arching an eyebrow as he said, “That was a mighty dangerous stunt you two pulled.”

“You going to ticket ‘em, Quinn?” Joe asked.

A grin spread on Quinn’s lips. “I reckon they’re too cute to ticket. Maybe even too cute to spank.”

The other men laughed. The women just blushed.

“You’re too soft,” Joe teased, gruffly.

“Yep,” Doc agreed. “Once Littles figure that out, they’ll run all over you. You’ve got to be careful.”

If only I had a Little to exploit that fault of mine, Quinn thought silently. He didn’t voice that, though. He didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. And he sure wasn’t going to feel sorry for himself. Sitting around moping wouldn’t accomplish anything. It wasn’t his style, either.

Before the conversation could continue, Daisy McMillan came out of the small brick building that sat between the marshal’s office and the fire station. She was about twenty-five, had dark hair cut in a bob, and was cute as could be.

She didn’t have a Daddy, but for whatever reason, Quinn hadn’t entertained the notion that she was his Little girl. He didn’t know why, either. She was a wonderfully kind and beautiful woman. He just didn’t think of her like that. Maybe because he wasn’t sure she was even a Little.

And Quinn Hardin was a man who needed a Little.

“Marshal?”

“What’s up, Daisy?”

“Call just came in,” she said. “A motorist reported a young woman stranded out about three miles east of town. They offered to help her, but she wouldn’t accept it. Seemed nervous.”

“I’ll go check it out. Thanks, Daisy.”

Daisy nodded and then went back into the dispatch center. Quinn looked at Doc. “I’ve got Don in the back there.” He jerked his head toward the idling cruiser. “You mind giving him a look over to make sure he’s okay? Then I’ll let him sleep it off over in the jail.”

“Of course,” Doc said. “But you already know what my professional opinion is. He’s drunk as a skunk. Three sheets to the wind. Completely plastered. I could go on.”

Joe laughed. “I’m not a doctor and I could tell you all that.” He started walking toward the vehicle, meeting up with Doc in the street as they approached. “I’ll lend a hand so you can go see about that stranded girl.”

“Why don’t we just let him sleep this off in my office?” Doc said. “That way, he’ll be under medical care, and you won’t have to worry about keeping an eye on a prisoner. Not that you really consider Don as such.”

Quinn liked that idea a lot. He wasn’t one to pawn his responsibility off on others, but Don really would be better off under the watchful eye of a physician. And, honestly, having someone locked up in jail was such a hassle. This would even save the town a couple dollars, not having to feed Don three meals a day.

Quinn nodded. “Much obliged. If y’all don’t mind, stow his rifle away for me, too. I’ll get it when I get back.” He looked at the women and added, “Ladies, stay out of trouble.”

They giggled but didn’t make any promises.

Once Don was out of the SUV, and Joe had the gun, Quinn got behind the wheel, waved to everyone, and set out to see about that call.

This day was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one.