by Maisey Yates
“Pansy...”
“No. The only one who had control over it was him.”
“Oh, come on,” West said. “You’re not that rigid. Not that rigid that you can’t see that he’s had it tough. That he has it different than other kids, that he wasn’t able to make the same choices that a kid like you was.”
“I went through enough,” she said, stubborn.
“And you had enough,” West said. “He was out here surviving on nothing. He had to feed himself and the dog.”
“Why didn’t he come straight to you?”
“I imagine he was afraid of getting rejected,” West said. “And you might scoff at that, but you have to remember that you had a family that took care of you this whole time. Our own mother didn’t particularly want to take care of us. I don’t think Emmett took it for granted that I would just take him in. It’s what he wanted, but he didn’t think he could ask for it. So he was skulking around in the woods being pissed. I don’t just relate to that, I over relate to it.”
“I’m not trying to be mean,” she said. “But I have to follow procedure. And I have to follow the law.”
“You know what,” West said, something wild and angry firing through his blood. Through his vision. “Fuck your rules.”
And then, somehow, she was in his arms again, and he was kissing her. Kissing her like he might find answers if he searched the deepest parts of her mouth. Kissing her like he could melt her bones and her propriety and her adherence to the rules.
Kissing her like there was nothing else to be done, because as far as he was concerned there wasn’t. Then somehow, he called upon all the strength in himself to grab hold of her arms and lift her up, setting her away from him.
She took a step back. “Don’t,” she said. As if she had been the one to stop the kiss, when they both knew full well she hadn’t been.
“Then don’t kiss me back like you’re dying for it,” he said.
“This has nothing to do with...your brother. Or my job. Or procedure.”
“No. It just is. And I think that’s just how sex works sometimes.”
Even in the half-light from the porch he could see color mount in her face. “There won’t be any sex.”
He shrugged, the gesture casual while he felt anything but. “Suit yourself.”
She squared her shoulders, all business again. “I need you to bring him by the station tomorrow morning. I need you to do that. Otherwise... I’m going to have to come here.”
“I’ll bring him by,” he said.
Pansy nodded, and then she walked down the stairs. It was only the rhythm of her feet on the boards that told him her footsteps were unsteady.
She got in her car and drove away.
And left him.
That was when West Caldwell realized that not only did he have a kid brother to take care of, he also suddenly had a dog.
CHAPTER TEN
PANSY HAD WRESTLED with herself all the previous night. Not because of the kiss, and not because of what she had said to West, but because of the fact that she had left him.
That she had simply left Emmett and his dog with the command for them all to come to the police station tomorrow.
She felt like she should have done more. But she would have left the kid in any other circumstances, especially when the adult taking care of him was more than fit. She would have handled it the exact same way if it had been anyone else, and only the fact that it was West made her feel like she should have stayed. Like she should have done something to make him feel not quite so alone, when West had never indicated he had any such issues.
She thought about going over in the morning.
She didn’t.
Instead, she drove straight to the police station, the scenery around her a blur of green, the red brick of the small town blending together into a seamless background of familiarity. It was easy to make the drive, even while distracted, because it was so familiar.
She shouldn’t be spacing out like this. She knew that. She was the first to lecture people up and down about safe driving, but her brain felt foggy, and her body felt restless. She would have actually relished a run this morning.
And she was in luck, because when she got in to the station Chief Doering forced them right back out to do a jog.
She did the run and enjoyed the punishment, not taking in the scenery there either, just enjoying making her body hurt because it deserved to be in pain. When they got back to the station she showered in the women’s locker room—which only ever contained her—then changed into her uniform then went to her desk, which was relatively uncharacteristic of her. Normally, she went straight back out to patrol. But not today.
She took out all the files related to the theft cases and stared at them. And hoped that Emmett and West would be in soon. She sighed heavily, then called Carl. She explained the situation to him, how they had found the culprit, but that he was a young kid who was down on his luck.
“I would be willing to let him work off the damage,” the older man said.
“That’s really nice of you,” Pansy said. “And I’m grateful for that, because it’s what I would recommend for him. He’s not really a hardened criminal. He’s just a kid.”
Barbara, she knew, she’d have more trouble with.
“I’m expecting Emmett and his guardian soon if you want to come meet him and explain what you’re going to expect of him. I think that would be a good idea,” Pansy said.
She got off the phone with Carl, but hesitated in calling Barbara.
Finally, she did, and the other woman made no such offers of allowing restitution of any kind that came from anything but the kid being punished to the fullest extent of the law.
“I’d like you to come down to the station.”
“Why?”
“I have your wallet. And hopefully I’ll have most of the money as well.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
She hung up and Pansy sat impatiently at the desk, drumming her fingers on the top of it. Finally, the door opened, and her heart zipped up into her throat.
It was West, tall and broad, coming through the door with a sullen looking Emmett behind him. She was thankful for the distraction of Emmett and for the safety of her desk, and the police station in general. Otherwise she would have died of a combination of embarrassment and heat stroke remembering their kiss.
As it was, she found she could temporarily put her focus on other things. She could tell the two of them were brothers, even though Emmett was a few inches shorter than West. She had a feeling that he would grow into those lanky limbs and large feet, that he would end up looking a whole lot more like West than not. But for now, he was like a puppy, loping along, not even realizing all that he hadn’t grown into yet.
She imagined that he saw himself about the same as West, who had broad shoulders and a deep chest and the lines that evidenced the years he’d lived on his face, evidence that he’d lived the sort of years that made a man interesting.
West gestured toward her desk and Emmett shoved his hands into the pockets of his red sweatshirt and slumped down into the chair across from her.
“Do you have the money that you took from Barbara’s wallet?” she asked, keeping her voice measured.
He nodded, and pulled his hand out of his pocket, producing three hundreds and a collection of twenties. He had about $365, most of what he had taken. She still had a feeling Barbara was going to make an issue out of all of it.
“Carl Jacobson is going to be in soon, and he’s going to talk to you about how you might be able to make it up to him. He’s not interested in pressing charges, but he does want you to do some work for him.”
She found herself looking up at West to check his facial expression. It was neutral.
She looked back at Emmett, who nodded. “Okay.”
“I
don’t know what Barbara’s going to say. I’m just going to warn you now, she’s a tough customer, and she’s not going to feel sorry for you.”
Emmett tilted his chin up, his lips turned down into a frown. “I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.”
“Well, maybe you should. Because it would probably help you out in this situation if you would play up the fact that you’re a little bit pitiful.”
He scowled. “I’m not pitiful.”
She glanced back at West, who was deliberately looking away from his brother, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m glad that you came this morning,” she said. “Because this is what I would like to do. I would like to handle it without involving charges or the system at all.”
“But you brought me in,” Emmett said.
“I did,” Pansy said. “Because you have to face up to what you did. And I can’t control whether or not the consequences are more severe than either of us would like. I just have to do the right thing. And so do you.”
He snorted. “Why?”
She felt like she was standing on the edge of something. A moment that was given to her by her father’s memory. Where maybe she could change Emmett, the way her dad had changed her.
“Because it matters,” she said, her dad’s face swimming through her mind. She could hear his voice echoing inside of her as she spoke those words. “Because the world can take everything from you, Emmett. Your money, your status, your home. Your job. Your family. But there are a few things in your soul that the world can’t have unless you give it up. Your hope. Your faith. Your integrity. That’s the measure of a person. Those things that can’t be taken and how hard you hold on to them. You’ve made mistakes, but it takes integrity to come and own up to them.”
Emmett looked down, his arms folded, his legs out in front of him. It would be easy to take offense to the posture. Assume it meant he wasn’t listening. But Pansy had a feeling he was, and that was why he found it hard to meet her eyes.
The door to the station opened again, and Carl came in. When he met Emmett, he shook his hand, then he sat down in the chair next to him and started to have a talk with him. About the kind of work he could use help with.
The way that he talked to the kid made Pansy proud of the community. That a man who had been wronged the way Carl had been would treat this kid, a stranger, with such kindness and forgiveness.
She was glad that he had come first, because she knew that this was not going to be the scenario with Barbara. Barbara was difficult on a good day, but she had worked herself up into a lather over this. She was one of those people.
Barbara was on the City Council because she was organized. Detail oriented. Because she understood the way that things worked and was often the most capable person to set them in motion.
She was lonely, and Pansy felt some sympathy for her personal life.
But Barbara also didn’t know when to stop pushing for things. Didn’t know there were times she should sheathe the unerring verbal knife she had the power to wield. Didn’t know that sometimes it was best not to cut someone to pieces with your tongue, just because you could. She had no moderation. She was Barbara, all the time.
When Carl left, he shook Emmett’s hand. They sat and waited, and then Barbara blustered into the police station. “This is the hoodlum that stole my wallet?” Barbara gave a sidelong glance to West. “He has something to do with you?”
“My half brother,” West said.
“I might have known that. You’re Hank Dalton’s son, aren’t you? I’ve heard about you. The one who was in prison. Seems like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Pansy bit back uncharitable commentary on apples and trees. It wasn’t fair to throw her son’s situation in her face, but honestly, it was like the woman didn’t hear the words that came out of her mouth.
“Well, he’s my brother,” West said slowly. “So technically I’m not the tree. But we might be the same kind of apple.”
Barbara was not amused by West’s commentary, but Pansy thought if Barbara didn’t want comments she shouldn’t make quite so many statements.
“As you can see,” Pansy said, her voice measured, “Emmett is a kid. He made a mistake, but he has your wallet, and most of the money that was taken.”
Pansy slid the wallet and the money toward Barbara. She grabbed them, and looked fiercely through the wallet, and then counted the money. “There was $500 in the wallet.”
“I know,” Pansy said. “And Emmett will need to make it up to you.”
“He doesn’t need to be out on the streets,” Barbara said. “He needs to be in prison.”
“He isn’t going to be out on the streets, and honestly even if you press charges he’s not going to go to prison,” Pansy said. “Not realistically. But what you are going to do is tie up the court system and give this kid a record he doesn’t need. I feel like we can do better than that here.”
“That isn’t your job,” Barbara said. “Your job is to enforce the law.”
That ate at Pansy, because in many ways she agreed. But she also felt like there were gray areas and places for leniency, and when it came to fifteen-year-old kids who were wild like the animals that roamed the mountains, and in bad need of support, and needed the adults around them to be the adults and step up and fill in the gaps left behind by parents that hadn’t been there for them, then she felt they should do that. That was the point of community, after all.
Community wasn’t about fair. Not about everything being divided up into equal spaces, or seeing the people around them in a black-and-white fashion. It was about bearing each other’s burdens when you needed to. Having a neighbor you could lean on if you ever found yourself unsteady.
That was how her father had done his job for the town. He had done right.
Right in a deep and real way, not right on paper. And when their parents had died, that was what the community had done for them.
She was committed to doing the same.
“Barbara,” Pansy said, trying to keep her voice measured. “I want you to think about what you’re advocating for here.”
“I’m through with this discussion,” Barbara said, “I want to press charges.”
She stormed away from her desk, and went right back toward Chief Doering’s office.
Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose.
“This is fine,” she muttered.
“What’s the issue?” West asked. “Because I’ll write her a check for the difference. Hell, I’ll write her a check for the whole $500. She can make money on this deal.”
“The issue is that she’s decided to make it one,” Pansy said. “Because that’s who she is.”
Pansy got up and stormed after her. Because she would be damned if she was going to sit back and let this woman intimidate her or run roughshod over her.
Barbara was ranting over Chief Doering’s desk when Pansy walked in. “Everything that she was missing is being returned,” Pansy said. “West Caldwell is acting as the boy’s temporary guardian, and he has offered to pay the difference in the missing money. He can add more for pain and suffering.”
“I’m going to tell you right now,” Chief Doering said. “This is a case that isn’t going to go anywhere and it’s going to cost the city a lot of money. If the kid gets anything it’s going to be a fine, that might cover the cost of taking this to trial, but that’s it. Especially given that Carl Jacobson is not going to press charges. You just don’t have a whole lot here. I’d let it go.”
“So this is how you run the department now? We’re supposed to feel safe?” Barbara was verging on hysteria now, which shouldn’t really surprise Pansy. Not given that she was the sort of person who seemed to revel in her own hysteria.
“Yes,” he said, keeping his tone solemn. “Because you should know that if your son was ever
in this position I would behave the same, and I assume Pansy would too.”
She blinked, and then she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “The quality of people who have been moving in to town is a problem. That school out at the Dalton ranch, and the brother of those Daltons is connected to the hoodlum who stole my wallet. It’s not a coincidence.”
“Barbara...”
“You will not have my support for position as police chief,” Barbara said. “I will voice dissent on the committee.”
“Go ahead and do that,” Pansy said. “And when it comes time for you to run for City Council again I will make sure that the entire town knows that you advocated for throwing the book at a fifteen-year-old boy who stole something that you got back. A homeless boy who has no one in his life to care for him. That’s who you are. Don’t you threaten me. I’m proud of who I am and what I’ve done, and I’ll stand by it. If you think that you would be able to do the same, and if you think that the citizens of this town would like to hear my take on your actions, then go right ahead.”
“You can’t make me vote in favor of you.”
“I can’t,” Pansy said. “I wouldn’t ask you to. Frankly, I don’t want a vote of confidence from someone like you. But, I’m not going to have you poisoning other people against me.”
The whole situation went flat, and Barbara grabbed her purse and stormed out of the office in a huff.
“You handled it well,” Chief Doering said.
“It doesn’t much matter. I’m in the middle of a tempest in the world’s smallest teapot. She’s going to make an issue out of this no matter what.”
“That comes with the job. But then, it comes with this job on every level.”
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” he said.
She wasn’t sure how empowered she felt at the moment, but it also didn’t really matter. Because she was going to see through what needed seeing through and she was going to behave in a way that would make her father proud.