A prequel to Sheriff.
"You wanted to see me, sheriff?" Claire said, poking her head into her boss' office.
"Ah. Yes, I need to talk to you. Come in," Graham responded gruffly. He was a tall, dark-haired middle-aged man who had begun to grow slightly wider as he aged, but there was still a hint of steel both in his body and his gaze.
Claire entered, sitting down on the chair in front of the sheriff's desk. Claire was a short, curvy woman with an infectious grin, and she beamed at her employer, who did not return the smile.
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "Now, you've been working here for a month now. How do you think it's going?"
"Great! It's a good job," she said, still smiling. "A lot to do, but I manage to stay on top of things."
"Hm. Yes, I must admit that you do good work – when you show up, that is."
Her smile faded a little. "What do you mean?"
"After one month, there's been three days you were NOT late. THREE." He scowled. "You're usually fifteen minutes late, and at least once, it was more than an hour. I know my deputy has talked to you about this, but it doesn't seem to have helped. We need you to be here in the mornings – you can't just show up when you feel like it."
She pouted, fidgeting slightly. "I'll do better, I promise!"
"Yes, you told Steven that as well. I'm afraid that pretty words aren't enough anymore. I could dock your pay…"
"Oh, please don't!" she begged, her eyes widening in panic.
"…Or I can find an alternative solution." The prospect might have seemed promising, but there was something about his stern voice that made a shiver run down her back. "Tell me, what would your father have done if you were late when you were working at the farm?"
"Well, he certainly wouldn't have been happy!" she exclaimed. She did not feel like volunteering any further details.
"But what would he have done?" he pressed. She blushed, reluctant to answer the question, so he answered it for her. "He would have taken those jeans down and paddled your butt, wouldn't he?"
She blushed even more, squirming in her chair. She didn't want to admit the embarrassing truth, but she didn't think lying to her employer would be a good idea either. "Well… I guess that… No, I'm not…"
"Because back when I dated your sister, all those years ago, she always made sure that she was back home before her curfew – and told me what would happen to her if she was late." He raised an eyebrow. "Your father doesn't seem like the type of man who would treat his daughters differently in that regard."
She stared at him – she hadn't known that Jessie had shared that piece of information about their upbringing with her boyfriend. Claire had never admitted it to any of the boys SHE'D dated. She stared at the floor, sighing. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper. "Yes, he'd have paddled me."
"Oh? Now, as I said, I can dock your pay, OR…" He opened a drawer, placing a small, thick paddle on his desk.
"Ah. Yes, I need to talk to you. Come in," Graham responded gruffly. He was a tall, dark-haired middle-aged man who had begun to grow slightly wider as he aged, but there was still a hint of steel both in his body and his gaze.
Claire entered, sitting down on the chair in front of the sheriff's desk. Claire was a short, curvy woman with an infectious grin, and she beamed at her employer, who did not return the smile.
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "Now, you've been working here for a month now. How do you think it's going?"
"Great! It's a good job," she said, still smiling. "A lot to do, but I manage to stay on top of things."
"Hm. Yes, I must admit that you do good work – when you show up, that is."
Her smile faded a little. "What do you mean?"
"After one month, there's been three days you were NOT late. THREE." He scowled. "You're usually fifteen minutes late, and at least once, it was more than an hour. I know my deputy has talked to you about this, but it doesn't seem to have helped. We need you to be here in the mornings – you can't just show up when you feel like it."
She pouted, fidgeting slightly. "I'll do better, I promise!"
"Yes, you told Steven that as well. I'm afraid that pretty words aren't enough anymore. I could dock your pay…"
"Oh, please don't!" she begged, her eyes widening in panic.
"…Or I can find an alternative solution." The prospect might have seemed promising, but there was something about his stern voice that made a shiver run down her back. "Tell me, what would your father have done if you were late when you were working at the farm?"
"Well, he certainly wouldn't have been happy!" she exclaimed. She did not feel like volunteering any further details.
"But what would he have done?" he pressed. She blushed, reluctant to answer the question, so he answered it for her. "He would have taken those jeans down and paddled your butt, wouldn't he?"
She blushed even more, squirming in her chair. She didn't want to admit the embarrassing truth, but she didn't think lying to her employer would be a good idea either. "Well… I guess that… No, I'm not…"
"Because back when I dated your sister, all those years ago, she always made sure that she was back home before her curfew – and told me what would happen to her if she was late." He raised an eyebrow. "Your father doesn't seem like the type of man who would treat his daughters differently in that regard."
She stared at him – she hadn't known that Jessie had shared that piece of information about their upbringing with her boyfriend. Claire had never admitted it to any of the boys SHE'D dated. She stared at the floor, sighing. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper. "Yes, he'd have paddled me."
"Oh? Now, as I said, I can dock your pay, OR…" He opened a drawer, placing a small, thick paddle on his desk.
