About “Sheriff Country” in a few words:

The show in question drops you into the small-town home of Sheriff Country, where Sheriff Mickey Fox is trying to keep the peace in Edgewater while her past—and her family—keeps knocking on her door. It’s a spinoff of Fire Country, and yes—it’s got crime, family drama, shady secrets, and a heroine who won’t quit. A dose of grit, a touch of emotion, and lots of sworn-to-serve energy.

Meet the characters from Sheriff Country

Mickey Fox

Okay, Mickey is that delightfully sharp-edged trouble magnet of Sheriff Country — part fox, part cigarette ember, all attitude. He’s the kind who reads the room and the drawer of secrets in it, but also will feed a stray dog from his lunchbox like it’s no big deal (he swears he’s allergic, but somehow isn’t). Always seems five minutes late and two steps ahead, wears the same leather jacket until you start to think it’s a personality trait, and has this ridiculous habit of doodling tiny maps in the margins of things. He’s both the person you’d want watching your back and the one who’ll make you question if you actually needed a plan in the first place.

Travis Fraley

Travis is the steady heartbeat of the town — quiet, reliable, smells faintly of hay and coffee, and will fix your truck while giving you life advise like it’s casual. He’s mostly laconic, except when he’s not, because sometimes he’ll rant about poetry at sunrise and then absolutely refuse to admit he cried during a commercial; very confusing but somehow endearing. He rides a beat-up pickup, plays harmonica terribly but with passion, and has a secret collection of perfectly folded bandanas (don’t ask why, he won’t tell). He’s the kind of character who anchors scenes with a look and then surprises you by laughing at the wrong moment.

Cassidy Campbell

Cassidy is sharp as a new knife and twice as unpredictable — quick-witted reporter or bartender? Pick one, she does both, and she’ll spill your secret while pretending to write it down. She organizes chaos like it’s an art form, has a sticky-note system that only she understands, and also keeps a tiny plastic unicorn on her desk for reasons that make no sense (sometimes she claims it’s her muse, sometimes it’s a coaster). She’s fearless, snarky, and somehow impossibly compassionate; she’ll roast you for being dramatic and then show up with soup when you’re actually sick. There’s this odd little contradiction where she refuses to take selfies but has a drawer full of Polaroids she definitely looks at at 2 a.m. sometimes.

Nathan Boone

Nathan is the town’s moral compass with a few rattles in the casing — steady, principled, probably has a military past or at least tells stories like he does, and wears socks with sandals on purpose (no, really). He’s the guy who will hold a meeting to discuss community values and then quietly fix the broken fence afterward because actions > speeches, but also he’ll hum show tunes when he thinks no one is listening, which is adorable. Sometimes he’s a little rigid, like stubborn oak, but then he’ll show you an embarrassing childhood scar and suddenly he’s human again — soft at the edges. He gives the impression of being unshakeable, until he’s not, and that’s what makes him interesting.