He hurried the few blocks through town with his siren and lights going, careful to avoid tourists and villagers, some of whom stopped mid-step to watch his flashing lights as he passed. Earl taught him early in the game to avoid using his lights and siren if at all possible. In a tourist town, that kind of attention always stirred up trouble. But this was Sarah, and he itched to get to her as soon as humanly possible.
The shelter seemed quiet when he pulled in and shut off the noise. Earl’s car was nowhere to be seen, and he spotted Sarah and Julie huddled together on the wide veranda.
“Sarah?” He flung the gate open, unreasonably grateful for the look of relief on her sweet face as she ran down the steps and straight into his arms. “Where is he? Where’d he go?”
“We chased him off, Deputy!” Julie offered a huge wave as she swaggered down the steps. “Sarah did a stellar Dirty Harry impression, while I dialed 9-1-1. Asshole fled like a scared rabbit.”
Sarah trembled against him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “I could’ve shot him, Tony.” She pressed her cheek against his chest, her tears dampening his shirt. “I wanted to put a bullet right through him. I wanted to hurt him.” When she looked up, her expression was so stricken it tore at his heart. “That’s not me. That’s not me.”
“I know, baby. I know.” He stroked the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “Prescott, right?” He gazed over Sarah’s head at Julie who nodded in assent.
“She shouted the code word as I was coming in from the dumpster, so I grabbed her phone from her purse. He damn near had her backed up against the wall in the dining room, but she had her gun at the ready and scared the shit out of him.” Julie patted Sarah’s shoulder. “She done ya proud, Deputy.”
Sarah’s quaking calmed slightly, but she shook her head. “No more guns, Tony.” She pushed the Ruger into his chest. “Take this damn thing.”
“Sarah, what the hell? Here, give me that.” Julie reached over Sarah’s shoulder, took the gun from her shaky fingers, and double-checked the safety. “Honey, you did great. Not a moment of fear. That asshole didn’t have a single doubt you were serious.”
“Not the point, Jules.” Sarah shuddered as she surrendered the weapon, making no secret of how affected she’d been by her first encounter using the Ruger.
In a way, Tony was grateful Prescott was the one who’d been at the business end of the damn pistol. At least if she would have shot him, she wouldn’t be suffering all that much guilt over having pulled the trigger on someone she didn’t know for sure was pure evil. “Where’s Prescott? And where’s Earl?”
“Earl flew by, but when Marlene said you were on the way, he took off after Prescott.”
“He can’t arrest him. He didn’t do anything but show up.” Sarah pressed her face against Tony’s shirt before straightening and stepping away from his arms.
He released her reluctantly. “Tell me what happened. What’d he say? Did he threaten you? We can go after him if he threatened you.”
Sarah shrugged. “He wants me back and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. I’m not sure if he got scared by the idea that I might really shoot him or by the threat of the cops, but he’s gone, thank God.”
He led her to the porch, where they all sat down—Tony and Sarah side by side on the wicker settee and Julie bouncing from the armchair to the swing and back again. She was clearly wired, but Tony wanted the story from the beginning. It was the only way he’d be able to determine if this jackass was going to be a perpetual problem. “Right off, you have a code word?”
“Yeah. This morning, we came up with a word in case that bastard showed up.” Julie grinned, setting the Ruger on the table next to Tony, out of Sarah’s line of sight. “Who knew we’d use it the very first day?” She glanced over at her friend, who’d laid her head back against the settee and closed her eyes. “Iago—we all liked it. Seemed appropriate.”
Tony shook his head. “Yeah, that’s pretty clever.” As Julie chattered, he gazed at Sarah for a moment, watching as she made a conscious effort to calm down. Her breasts rose and fell as she took deep breaths. He gave her a few minutes before finally touching her cheek. “Honey, you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.” She opened her eyes and gave him a small smile. “He found me. I knew he would.”
“We’re going to fix this.” Tony had no doubt about that. No way was Paul Prescott going to haunt their lives, not as long as he was a sheriff in this town. The bastard was resourceful; he had to give him that. It took some research to figure out where Sarah had landed. Probably some money exchanged hands in Chicago or threats were made.
“I heard the gate squeak.” Sarah lifted her hair and rubbed the back of her neck. For a moment, she seemed smaller, drawn in on herself, but then she straightened. “I was surprised I heard it because I had the music blasting.”
“Speaking of music”—Julie’s grin widened—“only you could have the perfect soundtrack to squashing your bastard ex.”
Sarah raised one quizzical brow as Julie burst into laughter.
“The song that was playing when I came into the dining room was ‘You Don’t Own Me.’ You couldn’t have done that better if you’d planned it for weeks.” She chortled.
Sarah finally managed a weak smile, then a bigger one that warmed Tony’s heart. “You’re kidding.” She chuckled and Tony heaved an inner sigh of relief. She was going to be okay. “I didn’t even hear the music after he yanked the door latch off. We’re going to have to install a stronger one, by the way. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.”
“You’re not moving in here until we figure out what to do about Prescott.” Tony leveled a hard stare at her. “We’ll move in together after we get married, but for now, you probably need to stay at Noah’s, okay? I’ll come and live with you there until the wedding.” He knew he was pulling rank, but he couldn’t think of any other way to keep her safe.
“I can handle him.” Sarah grimaced, then set her jaw. “I handled him today.”
“We can all handle that little pischer.” Julie cut the air with her hand, clearly still in Dirty Harry mode. “He ran like a wuss when Sarah and I threatened him. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll be back, but if he does show his face, Sarah’s got her gun. She can handle him until you guys arrive.”
“He’ll be back.” Sarah rose and paced the porch. “He’s determined to have what he believes to be rightfully his. Surprisingly, I’m not really worried. He won’t come with a weapon or anything. He’s too cool for that. He thinks he can cow me with words and intimidation, but—”
Static from the radio on Tony’s belt interrupted her, and Earl’s voice came through loud and clear. “Tony, I’m out here on 115. There’s been a wreck. Pretty bad. I think I’ve got a fatality on my hands and we need to shut down the road. If things are stable there, why don’t you head out here?”
Sirens wailed down Forest Avenue as Tony pressed the button on the radio. “On my way.” Shoving up from the settee, he reached for Sarah as she passed him in her pacing. “Babe, I gotta go, but I’ll be back after we get this mess cleaned up.”
“Go, I’m fine.” Sarah met his gaze, a small smile curving the corners of her mouth. “I’m okay. Truly.”
Hesitating, he placed both hands on her shoulders. “If he comes back, call me immediately.”
“You’re number one on my speed dial.” She touched his cheek. “Go. We’re under control here.”
* * * *
With the imprint of his kiss still warm on her lips, Sarah watched as Tony sped away, lights flashing, siren wailing. She shot an arrow of prayer heavenward for the victims of the crash before she plopped back into the settee.
“Man, excitement overload tonight.” Julie had finally settled into the swing, but she pushed the wicker seat back and forth with one foot against the wood floor of the porch.
“I could do without it.” Sarah shook her head. “Gotta tell you, Jules, that gun and I are never gonna be friends. I’ve been so cocky—
no pun intended—about learning to shoot. Going out to the range and hitting that freaking target, believing I could shoot that bastard and never feel a thing.” She shrugged. “But the reality is completely different.”
Julie gave a short bark of laughter. “I knew you’d never pull the trigger, kiddo, but he sure as hell didn’t.” She stretched one arm across the back of the swing, finally relaxing into the seat. “And maybe that’s the key, you think? Having the gun is like insurance. The dudes who are gonna come through here looking for wives or girlfriends don’t know you or me. They have no idea if we’ll cower in a corner or shoot them straight through the heart. As long as they don’t know for sure, we’ve always got the upper hand.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” Sarah couldn’t deny Julie’s logic, but she still quivered inside thinking about how close she came to pulling the trigger. When the reality of actually needing the pistol occurred, she found out that having it wasn’t the huge comfort she’d thought it would be—a disconcerting discovery given how hard over she’d been about owning the damn thing. “I think there’s more of the pacifist than the vengeful victim in me, Jules.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“What happens if some guy comes in with a bigger, badder gun?” Sarah couldn’t stop the thoughts tumbling through her head. Funnily enough, even though she’d gone through a shooting mess at the Chicago shelter, where Julie’s Will had been shot by an angry ex-husband, it still hadn’t occurred to her to get a gun until Paul returned. Then finding one became such a priority that she’d gone out into the night to purchase one illegally. “Fear makes us stupid.” The statement came out louder than she meant for it to, causing Julie to rear back in the swing, a doubtful expression on her beautiful face. “Guns aren’t the answer.”
She stared at Sarah for a moment. “So, what? You want to get rid of the gun after everything you’ve gone through to have it? The licensing? All the lessons and practice?” She shook her head. “I think you need one here. Even if it’s just in a locked desk drawer in your office. Or in your nightstand by your bed.”
“I’m going to keep the damn gun.” Sarah dropped her head. “I just don’t want to depend on it, you know? It’ll be different here because I’ll have Tony, but also because now that I’ve faced Paul, I see what a small, insignificant little jerk he really is. That’s the case with all these abusers. They’re just bullies. And how do you handle a bully? You don’t let him push you around. You stand up. You don’t take his crap.”
Julie nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”
“Killing Paul won’t bring Macy back.” Sarah swallowed hard, not even fighting the tears that stung her eyelids. “Hating Paul won’t do that, either, although I confess to truly hating him. But he didn’t murder her. It was an accident caused by his anger and inattention. He deserved the prison time for what he did, but I have to believe”—she choked, swiping at her cheeks with her palms—“I have to believe his heart is broken too. He’s broken.”
Julie leaped up and snuggled next to Sarah on the settee, one arm around her shoulders. Murmuring little comforts, she rubbed Sarah’s back and offered a crumpled tissue from her shorts pocket.
With a frown at the slightly shredded hanky, Sarah wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “I need to forgive him for what happened to Macy. I have to do it for me and for Macy, so I can move on. If I’m going to make room in my heart for Tony’s family, I’ve got to forgive him for Macy.”
“Can you do that?” Julie tipped her head to give Sarah an encouraging smile.
“Yup.” Sarah said with a nod. “I can. Right now as a matter of fact. He doesn’t have to be here for it, right?” She rose, walked to the porch railing, and threw her hands into the air. “I forgive you, Paul Prescott!” Her voice echoed over the garden trellis. “I’m releasing all my pain to the universe and I’m moving on with my life. Macy will always, always live in my heart. I hope she’ll live in yours too, and that you’ll find some peace in your soul one day.” She gazed out at the sunset coloring the sky all shades of pink and purple and orange. The intense beauty of it felt like an affirmation. “Do you hear me, Paul? I forgive you.”
When she closed her eyes, her entire being lightened as if a suit of heavy armor had been removed from her chest and shoulders. Arms spread wide, she basked in the sensation of weightlessness, in the release, in the sense of pure joy.
“Hey, here comes Tony.” Julie popped out of the settee to stand beside Sarah. They watched as he pulled his lanky body out of the squad car and stood for a few seconds talking on his radio. “He looks grim. Must’ve been a bad one. God rest the soul of the victim.”
Sarah fought the urge to race down the walk to meet him, instead waiting for him to approach the porch.
He clomped up the stairs, his tread heavy. “Sarah, the accident... It was your ex.”
Sarah’s heart rose to her throat. “Is he hurt? Did he hurt someone else?”
Tony reached for her hand and knit his fingers with hers. “He’s dead. Witnesses at the scene said he ignored the Stop sign at the crossing and just blasted through the intersection. A semi T-boned him.”
“Is the driver of the semi hurt?”
“Not a scratch, but he’s heartsick.”
“Anyone else hurt?”
“Nope. Only Prescott. Died instantly as far as we can tell.” Tony pulled her into his chest and Sarah’s arms went around him. “I hate being the one bringing you this news, sweetheart.”
“One of life’s little ironies that it was his own anger and not mine that killed him,” Sarah whispered, looking up into Tony’s dear face. “It’s okay, my love. I’m okay. As a matter of fact, I’m better than okay. I’m sorry he died, but I’m not sorry he’s gone.” She pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek and then kissed him full on the lips. “Time for us to move on. You and me…together.”
TWENTY-FIVE
December 22
Sarah leaned into the lighted mirror on Libby’s desk, moving aside a stray auburn curl as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. She was alone for a few precious minutes since Julie, Carrie, Sophie, and Libby had left the bridal preparation room to check on last-minute details for the service and the reception. Everything was already perfect, but the Posse never rested.
“Miss Sarah?” The door opened a slit and Emma, Tony’s four-year-old granddaughter, peered into the room.
“Hi, sweetie.” Sarah spun around in the office chair and held out her arms. “Come on in.”
Little Emma had captured her heart from the first moment she’d met the child when Tony took her to Chicago for Thanksgiving dinner at the home of his newly pregnant daughter, Olivia, and her family. As it turned out, she’d also met Tony’s ex-wife, Shannon, and her partner, Francie, both of whom had charmed her almost as much as Emma. The couple was so thrilled Tony had finally found someone that she invited them to the wedding. They were out in the winery right now, ready to party.
Shannon had pulled her aside last night at the bachelor/bachelorette combo party Carrie and Liam had hosted at the Fishwife. “I knew he’d find someone perfect one day,” she’d said, looking remarkably like Judy Collins with her long silvery hair, gypsy skirt, and handmade hemp sweater. “Love him with everything you’ve got, girl. He deserves it. He’s got the biggest heart in the Midwest.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Sarah’s own heart had swelled when she’d glanced over at Tony, who was deep in a conversation with Henry at the bar. In that moment, utter contentment had washed over her.
Tony had brought family to their marriage—unusual family in some respects, but family nonetheless—something Sarah had been hungry for since her parents died, and even more so after Macy’s passing. Olivia, Brian, and Emma had accepted her without question. If Dad loved her, so did they, and apparently, Shannon and Francie were following suit, which warmed Sarah’s heart no end since grandchildren meant sharing, divorced or not.
Now, Emma stared up at her, a serious expression in h
er golden-brown eyes, the same color as her grandfather’s. “Mommy says you’ll be my grandma after you marry Poppy tonight. Will you?”
Sarah gathered her close and kissed her dark silky hair. “I sure will. Is that okay with you?”
“Well, I already have three grandmas ’cause there’s Granny and G-maw Francie and also Grandma Moe in Indiana.”
“You think one more might be too many?”
Emma considered this, her big eyes serious as she chewed her lower lip. “Grandmas are awful nice. I think you should have as many as you can.”
Sarah laughed and hugged the little girl. “I agree. I’m very excited about being your new grandma.”
“Do I still have to call you Miss Sarah after you and Poppy are married?”
“What do you want to call me?”
“Um…” Emma toyed with the ivory satin ribbon trimming the lapels of Sarah’s silk suit. “I could call you Grammy; that’s what Jacob calls his grandma.”
“Who’s Jacob?”
“A boy at school. On Grandparents Day, he had six grandmas and grandpas there.” Emma leaned in to sniff Sarah’s hair. “You smell good.”
“Thank you.” Sarah gave her another little squeeze. “I like Grammy Sarah. Why don’t we try that one on and see what we think?”
“Okay.” Emma grinned and planted a big kiss on Sarah’s cheek just as Olivia opened the door.
“Emma! There you are.” She hurried over to grab her daughter. “Honey, don’t mess up Sarah’s outfit.”
“She’s fine, Olivia, truly.” Sarah rose and smoothed her floor-length skirt.
“You look gorgeous, Sarah.” Olivia smiled, gazing at her. “Dad’s going to be bowled over.”
“I sure hope so.” Sarah had opted for the formal suit, rather than the velvet dress that Julie had campaigned for. It was a beautiful dress, but the elegant ivory silk skirt and peplum jacket suited Sarah’s simple tastes. Her bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath looked stunning against the creamy silk, while the baby’s breath and mistletoe tiara in her hair added just the perfect touch of whimsy. She wore her mother’s gold locket on a fine gold chain around her neck. The locket, containing pictures of her parents and Macy, rested next to her heart, while Tony’s ruby glowed on her right hand, waiting to be fitted over the plain gold band they’d chosen as wedding rings.
Saving Sarah Page 21