Page 83 of The Worst Possible Plan

“So… what happens now?” asked Dottie.

I thought about it. “I’ll talk to the sheriff. He’ll understand. And then Dr. Keller can refer us to somewhere safe for the animals.”

Dottie nodded. “Okay. Good plan. I think.”

“It’s my only plan,” I told her, my blood pressure sky high. “And we already have them in the truck. We can take them ourselves.”

A loud knock on my window made me jump.

I spun around.

The sheriff.

He stood beside the driver’s door, his sunglasses gone and one hand resting on his duty belt. His jaw was tight, really tight, not Sheriff Face but Sheriff Face’s older, angrier brother. He looked mad as hell.

Oopsie.

Dottie swallowed. “He looks really mad.”

The tiny, ridiculous fantasy I’d secretly been nurturing over the last twelve hours packed its suitcase and walked straight out the front door. No more dancing. No more kissing. No more Captain Competent smiling at me. Just Sheriff Walker with a furious look on his face.

Did I regret stealing the truck? No. Did I regret the kiss? Definitely not. Did I regret the order in which those two events had occurred?

Immensely.

Another knock. This one firmer.

I swallowed hard and lowered the window.

The sheriff looked directly at me. “Get out of the truck, Hartwell.” His voice was low and controlled.

I plastered on a smile. “Sheriff, I can explain. The animals were going to auction. And they could’ve been separated.”

The sheriff’s face was still. “Get. Out. Of. The truck.”

Ouch. He’d used the sheriff voice. That wasn’t Captain Competent anymore. That was law enforcement.

I sighed. “Okay.”

Beside me, Dottie leaned closer. “I think he’s done flirting.”

I climbed out just as Dottie did the same. The morning air suddenly felt much colder.

The sheriff waited until both of us were standing beside the truck.

Dottie lifted both hands. “I just want the record to show this wasn’t my idea.”

I looked at her. “Seriously?”

Dottie gave a shrug. “What? I have brunch to prepare at the inn later.”

The sheriff didn’t smile. Not even a little.

I stepped toward him. Words started tumbling out. “Listen, before you say anything, they were taking Bandit and Theo and Daisy and the little donkey to auction, and the handler said they could end up anywhere, maybe for meat, and I know how this looks, but when you actually hear the whole story, it becomes slightly less criminal than it appears⁠—”

“Hartwell.”

“And Dr. Keller might know someone with a farm and I wasn’t keeping them forever because I don’t even own a farm and Sarah definitely doesn’t want a goat in the guest rooms although Bandit would probably be adorable at check-in⁠—”