Maureen McKade by Winter Hearts

buried his chin in the collar of his coat. “Ma didn’t want me wearing them for everyday. She said I’d ruin them.”
    Matt squatted down in front of the boy and raised his chin. “Where are your new shoes, Dylan?”
    The boy blinked. Moisture gleamed in his blue eyes. “Ma took’em back to old man Pearson. I think she took the money for them.” He grabbed hold of Matt’s arm. “These shoes are okay. At least I ain’t barefoot.”
    Matt studied Dylan’s frightened eyes, and as furious as he was with the boy’s mother, he was more concerned with Dylan’s fear. “Don’t worry, partner. I ain’t mad at you. It’s just that your ma shouldn’t have taken those shoes. I bought them for you, and she didn’t have any right taking them back to Pearson. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
    Dylan nodded. “I didn’t want her to take them, but she slapped me; said I was no better than a beggar. She said I didn’t need the new shoes, but she could use the money she got back for them.”
    Matt’s teeth clenched. He placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “She was wrong, Dylan. I know she’s your ma, but that don’t mean she’s always right. I’m going to have a talk with her.”
    “No!” Dylan hollered. “If you go see her, she’s going to be mad at me.”
    Matt worked the muscle of his jaw. “I’m going to make sure she’s mad at me and not you.”
    “You don’t understand.”
    “What don’t I understand?”
    Dylan lowered his head. “I can’t tell you.”
    “She beats you, don’t she?”
    Dylan’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, she don’t.”
    Rage filled Matt and his hands trembled. “Stay here, Dylan. I’ll be back in a little while.”
    “What’re you going to do?”
    The terror in Dylan’s expression tripped Matt’s heart. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I promise.” He straightened and rubbed his jaw. “The jail could use another good sweeping. You stay here and clean this place up, then when I come back we’ll go out and have a steak dinner. How does that sound?”
    The worry in Dylan’s face receded slightly and he nodded. “As long as I can have my own steak.”
    “You got it.”
    Half-heartedly, the boy took hold of the broom handle, then Matt laid a hand on his head. “I won’t be gone long.”
    Matt strode out into the swirling snow and arrived at Sadie’s sporting house a few minutes later. Red lanterns on either side of the door told visitors what to expect, and Sadie had built her business on pleasing customers. He opened the door and stepped inside.
    “Well, well, if it isn’t the high and mighty Sheriff Brandon,” a husky female voice spoke. “I’m surprised you lowered yourself enough to come inside.”
    Matt pressed his hat back from his forehead and met Sadie Rivers’s bloodshot gaze. His glance swept across the glittery red dress that barely contained herprominent breasts. The hem touched her knees and black stockings covered her skinny legs. The suggestive clothing should have excited him, but it didn’t. He looked away to the large entry and beyond to the parlor room, where a huge chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling by a heavy chain. Gaudy purple paper lined with velvety gold covered the walls, and Victorian lamps with tasseled shades added to the hollow illusion of glamour. Yellow drapes with frayed orange draw-cords prevented curious eyes from viewing the bawdy activities.
    Matt’s attention returned to Sadie. “This ain’t a social visit. I want my money back.”
    Sadie blinked, revealing bright blue eye shadow and eyelashes thickened by black powder. “I don’t recall taking any money from you, Sheriff.”
    “You took a pair of shoes that didn’t belong to you.”
    “What belongs to my son belongs to me.”
    Matt placed himself directly in front of the madam. “I gave
him
the shoes, not you. I want either the shoes or the money back right now.”
    Sadie’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed. “Come into