After a few long minutes, and several sniffles, Cody recollected himself enough to keep talking to the Sheriff. He did not understand why he had to go through the things his father cruelly put him through. But at least he felt a little better.

"Tell you what little man," Sheriff Daniels told Cody noticing it was 6:38 in the morning, "you put on some play clothes, comb your hair, brush your teeth, and I'll go downstairs and whip us up a big bowl of scrambled eggs, some sausage links, and maybe I will even throw in some of those strawberry preserves you've been eating me out of house and home on."

"I'm sorry," Cody sheepishly apologized.

"For what?" the Sheriff asked him.

"For eating you "out of house and home" on those preserves. But they are so good!" Cody replied.

Teasingly Sheriff Daniels wanted to know, "Are you apologizing for something you don't need to be apologizing for, Little Man?"

Then he told Cody, "Take that apology back or I will swat your tail end."

Cody responded with a defiant "No!"

"Okay then, Little Man. Don't say I did not warn you," Sheriff Daniels responded pulling Cody face down over his knee and firmly swatting his pajama-clad bottom one time.

Cody understood the Sheriff was only clowning around in an effort to make him feel better. He really did not mean that pop on Cody's bottom to be any form of discipline. Cody also enjoyed interacting with Sheriff Daniels like they always did.

From out of nowhere Cody asked the Sheriff if he could, after eating breakfast, play football with Matt and some other boys.

"Of course you can, Little Man," Sheriff Daniels told him.

"It's tackle," Cody informed the Sheriff hoping that would not make a difference.

"Roughhousing. Always roughhousing," the Sheriff replied then said, "when you get yourself ready come downstairs and let's tackle some breakfast before you go play football with Matt. Okey-dokey?"

Cody's earlier frown turned upside down and became a broad smile the Sheriff was glad to see on the boy's face. Getting off the bed to get himself together, like he had been told to do, Cody's two little bare feet shuffled off to Buffalo, or into his bathroom, whichever came first.

Beth Sorenson had breakfast on the stove sizzling away. The aroma of the sausage and eggs cooking wafted throughout the kitchen as Sheriff Daniels walked into the room. He passionately kissed Beth's tender lips.

"Is Cody okay?" was the first question she asked upon the Sheriff's entrance, "He sure let out a blood-curdling scream."

"All I can say at the moment is it's a real good thing Earl Anthony Schroder is dead!" the Sheriff responded.

His tone of voice delivered the message loud and clear.

The Sheriff grabbed a coffee cup from out of the cupboard next to the stainless steel two-compartment sink and filled it up with the Espresso Beth made.

"What a pathetic piece of...!" Beth started to comment. She stopped herself when Cody walked into the room, "Good morning, Sunshine!" she instead greeted him.

Cody gave Beth one of his sly little impish winks and exclaimed, "Something sure smells good in here. And, I'm starving!"

"A growing boy like you is always hungry," Sheriff Daniels teased Cody.

"Helps to make us big and strong," Cody remarked flexing both arms like he was posing for Muscle Magazine.

Realizing he had a long way to go before he would ever get there, Cody quickly dropped his arms down by his sides.

"Well, sit your tail feathers down before I plucked them all out one at a time," the Sheriff good-naturedly told Cody to do, "Beth has your breakfast ready."

Cody pulled his chair out from under the oval redwood table they ate at. He plopped down. He was hungry. His frightmares, as Cody called them, always increased his appetite.