Читать книгу The Sheriff's Second Chance - Michelle Celmer, Michelle Celmer - Страница 8

Chapter Two

When he’d left the diner that morning, Nate had vowed to avoid Caitie whenever humanly possible. But when the call came in about the car stalled in the intersection, he’d had no idea it would be her.

He would have driven past and kept going, but this was a matter of public safety, and as an officer of the law he had an obligation to stop and assist her. Though how she had managed to get her car from the intersection to the ditch was a mystery.

He radioed for a tow, then got out and crossed the road to Caitie’s car. It sat nose down in a tangle of weeds and grass in the ditch. Caitie, looking alarmingly disheveled with her sweat-soaked hair and clothes and bleeding knees, limped over and joined him.

Suddenly his bad day didn’t seem so horrible after all.

Shoulders slumped, looking tired and defeated, Caitie stopped beside him, gazing down into the ditch at what was left of her car. From what he could see, the front end was in pretty bad shape but probably fixable. Although, considering the age of the car, it hardly seemed worth it. Honestly, it was a miracle it still ran at all.

“You look like hell,” he told her.

Without taking her eyes off the car, she said, “Thanks for noticing.”

“Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay.’”

“Are you in need of medical assistance?”

She shook her head. “I’ll live.”

“So, you want to tell me what happened?”

She shook her head again and said, “No. Not really.”

“I need to fill out an accident report.”

Her attention shot to him. “It wasn’t an accident.”

“You put your car in a ditch on purpose?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Of course not! It died, and I was...pushing it out of the road.”

The mental picture almost made him smile. “Got away from you, did it?”

Her deadpan look was the only answer he required.

As much as he wanted to believe she deserved it, wanted to feel vindicated, she looked so damned defeated he couldn’t manage anything but pity. He’d been so busy not looking at her in the diner, he hadn’t noticed the dark circles under her eyes, or that she was thinner than he’d even seen her. Her wrists looked bony and her collarbones jutted out.

But whatever she’d suffered, or was still suffering, she’d brought it on herself. That was what he wanted to believe, anyway.

Caitie stepped forward to climb down the embankment, and without thinking he grabbed her upper arm to stop her. The instant his fingers touched her bare skin, he was hit by a zap of awareness so intense it nearly knocked him into the road.

Where in the hell had that come from?

Considering the way Caitie blinked in surprise and jerked her arm free, she must have felt it, too. “At ease, Officer.”

“You can’t go down there,” he said.

“I have to get my things.”

“It may not be safe. You should wait until the tow truck gets here.”

“I haven’t called one.”

“I did. It shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“I don’t have an hour. I have to get back to work. And there are papers in there from the diner that my mom needs now. And I need my purse.”

“Where is it?”

“Everything was on the front passenger seat.”

With a sigh of resignation he told her, “Stay here.”

Hands propped on her hips, she scowled. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Like it or not, she was getting it. If she went down there and wound up hurting herself, it would be his ass on the line. He picked his way down the slope into the ditch on the passenger’s side of the car, weeds twisting around his legs and clinging to his uniform pants like tentacles. Thankfully there had been no rain for a while, or he would be trudging through mud and muck.

He gave the car a firm shove, to make sure it was stable, and it didn’t budge. From this angle he could see that the hood was wedged under a large boulder at the edge of the field. This car had definitely seen its last days on the road.

“How bad is it?” she called down to him.

“Looks fatal,” he answered, and he heard her mutter something under her breath. “Sorry, I missed that.”

“I said, what next? Which in retrospect was probably a stupid idea. Why tempt fate?”

He didn’t believe in fate. Not anymore.

He tried the passenger’s side door. It resisted at first, but with one hard yank and the grating screech of metal against metal, it opened. As he leaned inside he was filled with an eerie sense of déjà vu. Somehow, despite having essentially spent the past seven years under a tarp in the garage, the car still smelled like the coconut body spray she’d used in high school.

He shook the thought away as he reached over and switched on the hazard lights.

The papers she’d mentioned lay scattered across the floor. He gathered them up, revealing an expensive-looking leather purse underneath, its contents spilled out onto the mat. He recognized the brand as one his ex-wife had often coveted but could never afford.

He had overheard his dad tell someone that Caitie had done rather well for herself in New York. It was a surprise to Nate. Not because he considered her incompetent. He had just always believed that material things didn’t interest her, that family was what she really cared about. Living in the city had obviously changed her.

Or hell, maybe he never really knew her at all.

He slid the sheets of paper—which looked to be financial forms—back into their folder and stuffed her belongings back into her purse. He gave the interior a final cursory glance, a disturbing sense of longing tugging at his soul. He shut the door and climbed out of the ditch.

“Thank you,” she said when he reached the top and handed her things over. “I could have gotten them.”

He should have let her do just that, but he had been entrusted by the town to keep its residents safe, and it was a duty he took very seriously. So, until Caitie went back to New York, she was essentially his to protect.

“I noticed your left taillight is still flickering,” he told her, looking back at the car.

“Only because someone never got around to fixing it for me,” she said sharply. “Though he promised about a hundred times.”

Resentment churned his gut. Who was this woman? The Caitie he knew had always been so sweet and accommodating, so...nice. She never had a negative thing to say about anyone. Well, almost never.

“I’m not the only one who made promises,” he reminded her. She had promised to marry him and have his children and spend the rest of her life with him.

Yet here they were, not married.

“Can I go now?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure where his reply originated, maybe from some deep dark place where the pain still simmered, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Leaving is what you do best.”

Her sharp intake of breath said the barb had struck its target. He waited for the feeling of satisfaction to release the weight that had been dragging him down since he’d first heard her voice in the diner. But treating women with respect was a virtue so deeply engrained by his parents, he felt like a jerk instead.

Her bluster and bravado seemed to leak away, filing the edge off her sharp tongue. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Nate. If you believe anything, please believe that.”

Whether she meant to or not, she had hurt him. She’d left with no regard for anyone else’s feelings. Abandoned him and all their friends with no logical explanation.

If this was her lame attempt at an apology, she was wasting her time. It was too late for that. She’d betrayed his trust, and, whatever her excuse, that would never be okay with him.

“Let’s go sit in my car,” he said.

Looking apprehensive, she asked, “What for?”

“It beats standing in the hot sun while I write this up.”

She hugged the file to her chest, shooting an anxious glance down the county road, as if she were plotting an escape route. Did she think she could outrun him? “I told you what happened. Do I really need to be here?”

Was she in such a rush to get back to the diner, or just eager to get away from him? It didn’t matter either way. His priority was to do his job.

“I’ll need your statement. Then you’ll have to sign it, so yes,” he told her. “You do, in fact, need to be here.”

Caitie realized that she was in no position to be asking Nate for any favors, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

Swallowing the crumbs of her shredded pride, she said, “Could we maybe skip the report this time? I mean, no one was hurt, right? No one else was even involved. So who would know?”

He just stared at her with his “cop” expression.

“If I’m late back to the restaurant, it’s everyone else who will suffer. The waitresses, the customers. My dad.”

“Maybe you should have considered that when you drove your car into the ditch.”

Like she had done it on purpose. And technically, she’d pushed it in. If the damned car hadn’t stalled, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

Nate crossed the road to his cruiser and opened the back door. It was silly to believe that he would cut her any slack after all that had happened.

She waited for a truck to rumble past, then walked across the road and peered into the cruiser. “I have to sit in back, locked in like a criminal?”

“Those are the rules,” he said.

It wasn’t as if she’d never been in the back of a police vehicle. Nate’s dad, P.J., a state police officer, had sometimes given them rides in his squad car. But this was different. Once she got in there, she would be trapped. Not that she thought he would hurt her. Not physically anyway. But he could spoon-feed her all the bitterness and resentment that had obviously built up these past years, and she would have no choice but to swallow it.

She stepped closer, then hesitated. Did she really want to do this?

Did she have a choice?

The longer she stalled, the later she’d be getting back to work. And there was nothing she hated more than letting people down. Though it was getting to be a recurring theme for her. First she let everyone down by leaving Paradise, then she let down her clients by not seeing the fraud going on right under her nose.

She glanced up at Nate as she slipped into the car, and as their eyes met, his were so cold and emotionless, it was as if he were looking right through her. She’d seen that look before.

Nate rarely lost his temper or even raised his voice—or he didn’t when they were younger. His weapon was silence. And the less he talked, the more she felt the need to justify herself over whatever it was he was upset about, which would usually leave her feeling like the bad guy. Whether it was her fault or not.

Not anymore.

He shut the door and walked around the vehicle. With every step he took, her anxiety mounted. She glanced at her watch. There was no way she would make it back in time for the lunch rush now. Thanks to her carelessness, and foot dragging, everyone else at the diner would have to pick up the slack.

Nate climbed into the car, his eyes cold and hard as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Well, she wasn’t so thrilled seeing him again, either. If she had her choice, she would still be in New York, but the money in her savings account could be stretched a whole lot further staying in Paradise rent-free.

She would never forget opening her office door to find the halls swarming with agents from the Federal Trade Commission, and watching in shock as the CEO was led out in handcuffs. Immediately rumors began to fly that the firm had direct ties to the mob and had been defrauding some of its wealthiest clients for years. A virtual pyramid scam.

Suddenly she and her coworkers found themselves thrust into the center of a federal investigation. The CFO had gone missing that day, along with millions of dollars, and still hadn’t been located. Caitie figured that there were two likely scenarios. Either he was on a beach in Aruba sipping mai tais, or had been laid to rest somewhere in Jersey under a concrete slab.

Her money was on Jersey.

Nate was silent for so long, and so still, she wondered if she should check for a pulse. When he did finally speak, the sound of his voice startled her.

“If I let you go now, do you promise to come by the station in the morning and file a report?”

He was cutting her a break? Seriously? She sat up a little straighter as her heart lifted. “Yes! Absolutely I’ll do that. I promise.”

His eyes narrowed. “Eight a.m.? Before I go out on patrol.”

“I’ll be there. You have my word.”

She braced herself for a crack about her word not meaning much to him, but it never came.

“For the record, I’m doing this for Lou,” he told her. “Not you. So don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

He did a U-turn out onto the road and headed in the direction of her parents’ house. She was getting a free pass and a ride home? This was unprecedented.

She studied his profile as he drove silently down the county road. Eyes forward, lips sealed in a rigid line. From this angle he looked exactly as he had in high school, and she felt a pang somewhere deep in her chest. A sudden longing for the way things used to be. But they were not, nor would they ever be, a couple. She had her life in New York, and he had his in Paradise. And never the twain shall meet.

Not often anyway. In fact, she hoped that tomorrow at the station would be the last she saw of him. She anticipated that the headhunter would call soon with good news and she could go back to New York.

Nate didn’t say a word as he pulled up her parents’ long gravel driveway and rolled to a stop close to the side door. The three-car detached garage was open and her mom’s car was parked inside. Maybe Caitie could con a ride back to the diner from her.

This being the first time she had seen the house in true daylight since she’d arrived, she took a good look around. Was it her imagination or were things looking a little...run-down?

Despite the hours they worked, her parents had always seen that the house and yard were meticulously cared for. Even if that meant hiring one of the local kids to mow the grass. Caitie had been too busy with work and school to do it, and if Kelly had been handcuffed to the mower she would find an excuse to get out of it.

The once white siding on the house had weathered to a dull gray, and the trim around the windows was peeling in places. The front flower beds were dry and scrubby and overgrown, more weeds than flowers. The vegetable garden was in no better shape. She saw only a few straggly plants that looked as if they had come up on their own from seed.

As long as Caitie had been alive, they planted the garden every spring, and in the fall her mom would take a couple of days off work to can the crop. She would put up pickles, relish and dilly beans and several varieties of hot peppers. In the fall they went apple picking at a local orchard so her mom could make sauce. The all-natural chunky kind with no added sugar. Until she was away at school Caitie had never even tried store-bought applesauce. There was no comparison.

She wondered if she could help her parents out by tidying up the yard, planting a flat or two of flowers. Marigolds had always been her mom’s favorite. The front porch could stand a good scrubbing and a fresh coat of paint, as well. As could the siding and the trim. Heck, she might as well paint it all, and totally re-landscape the yard. It would be the perfect project to keep her occupied while she was there. Something constructive to do. She’d always hoped that someday she would have time to explore her creative side. Maybe this was her chance.

She waited for Nate to get out and open her door, but he just sat there, eyes forward, not moving or making a sound. Had he forgotten that she was locked in?

She cleared her throat, hoping to catch his attention, but he didn’t budge. It was as if he’d forgotten she was back there.

After another minute or so, her patience began to wear thin. He knew she was in a hurry. Why would he let her postpone the police report, drive her home, then keep her trapped in his backseat?

If he needed to say something, she wished he would just spit it out.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she said, taking a stab at a little lighthearted humor.

He cut his eyes to her in the mirror, looking anything but amused.

“Or not,” she mumbled.

His expression was so empty, so lacking in emotion, he could have been cast from wax had his mouth not been moving. “I used to think if I ever saw you again, the only thing I would want to know is why. But now that you’re here, now that we’ve come face-to-face, I realize...” He looked back at her over his shoulder. “I don’t care anymore.”

Ouch. Whether or not hurting her had been his goal, that remark cut deep. Not that she had expected him to be miserable, alone and still pining for her, unable to move on with his life. But a girl could hope, right?

She banished that thought to somewhere deep down where it belonged. And having said his piece—short though effective as it had been—Nate finally got out and opened her door.

As she was climbing out, her battered knees protesting with a deep, stinging ache, she heard the side door on the house creak open. She looked over to see her mom standing on the back porch.

In Cait’s opinion, her mom, Betty, was as pretty now as she had been at seventeen, when she won the Miss Denver beauty pageant. She was thirty years older now, and a little bit softer around the edges, but she still had that spark. It had been difficult as a child, growing up in a household with females as beautiful as her mom and sister. No one ever came right out and told Caitie she was aesthetically inferior, but she knew.

Caitie sometimes wondered if her mom ever regretted not doing more with her life. During her stint as a beauty queen, a Chicago-based modeling agency had offered her a two-year contract. She could have had an exciting career in the city, but instead she chose to stay in Paradise, get married and work at the diner.

Gauging by her stunned expression, seeing Caitie with Nate was probably the last thing her mom expected on Caitie’s first day back.

“Hello, Nate,” she said, looking quizzically from him to Caitie. But as Caitie stepped out from behind the car door and her mom saw her disheveled appearance, including the dried blood caked on her knees, she gasped and clasped a hand to her bosom. “What on earth happened to you?”

Caitie had never been one to resort to sarcasm to make a point, but what the heck. “Nate and I were just getting reacquainted,” she said, smiling when she heard him grumble under his breath.

He never used to grumble.

“I’m going to assume that was a joke,” her mom said, though she looked as if she wasn’t sure.

“See ya, Betty,” Nate said, then narrowed his cop stare on Caitie. “Eight a.m. Don’t forget.”

Like she could forget that. “Thanks for the ride, Deputy Jefferies.”

He shot her a look.

Had he or had he not insisted that she address him by his rank? Now he didn’t like it?

Nate grumbled something incoherent as he got in the cruiser and drove away. He never used to grumble, and he sure did seem to frown a lot now. Perhaps the serious nature of his profession had jaded him.

But this was Paradise, where there was barely any crime to be jaded about.

Caitie turned back to her mom, who stood patiently awaiting an explanation.

“So,” she asked, looking Caitie up and down. “Rough morning?”

Feeling exhausted, as if she’d just worked a week of double shifts, when in reality it was barely eleven, Caitie sighed and said, “You have no idea.”