That afternoon Storm saddled up his horse and sneaked away from the ranch. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Sable about sending her back home, so he got Curt’s help in keeping her busy while he rode into town to talk to the sheriff.
When he walked in, the sheriff was locking up a drunk and letting him sleep it off. “Has Willy been at it again?” Storm asked.
“Yeah,” the sheriff answered with an amused smile on his face. “Every time he comes into town I make sure I’ve got at least one empty cell. Ordinarily, he’s a real good Joe, but when he starts drinkin’, he gets mean.”
“Sheriff, if you’ve got time, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Sure,” the sheriff said while hanging the keys on the wall peg. He indicated toward the chair beside his desk. “Take a seat while I get some coffee. Want some?”
