High Country Cop

by Cynthia Thomason

  “I’m not riled up. I was just doing some simple math. You’re single. Miranda’s single. Why, anyone can put one and one together.”

  “Don’t you have some work to do?” He nodded at the papers on her counter. “Shouldn’t those be filed or something?” He started to walk away but stopped and turned back to her. “And where’s Sam McCall?”

  “He’s out on patrol,” Betsy said with a grin. “I’ll get him for you if you want.”

  “I’ll get him myself.” Carter went into his office and called Sam’s cell phone number. He just might need a beer tonight with his newest friend—the rookie cop who didn’t know anything about his history with Miranda Jefferson.

  * * *

  CARTER HAD WORKED long and hard to forget Miranda, to never again think of her ready natural smile—a smile that warmed a room in the dead of winter. He steeled himself over the years to never think of her glossy brown hair and the ponytail that trailed down her back. And he tried most of all to forget the way he felt when she touched him, the way she made his senses tingle, his heartbeat race. Sure, he’d been just a kid, but what they’d had seemed so real. Until the day everything changed. Carter lay his head back against his office chair and closed his eyes. There was no fighting it today. He was going to remember all of it.

  Fourteen years earlier...

  “CARTER, I NEED TO talk to you.”

  Miranda hadn’t even come to the front door of his house. She’d stood outside in the yard until someone noticed her and told Carter she was there. He’d come out right away, reminded her that they were going to a movie later, but sure, if she wanted to talk now, that was okay with him.

  They’d sat on a bench in his mother’s yellow daisy garden. He’d taken her hand as he’d done since their second date, two years before. “You didn’t need to come all the way out here,” he said. “You could have called.”

  “No. This can’t be said over the phone.”

  That was the first inkling he’d had that something was wrong, that his life might be about to change forever. The summer sun was bright and warm, and their future had seemed so perfect that day. Carter was going off to college on a full football scholarship. Miranda was getting a job and staying home, waiting for him to return for vacations. He’d promised her that if she wanted to go to college when he graduated and they were married, they’d find a way. She wasn’t overjoyed with the decision but had agreed to wait.

  “I’ve made a decision,” she said.

  “Okay, but why so serious?”

  “I’m using part of the money from the paper mill to enroll in NC State. I requested a fast admission report, and I got it. I’m accepted for the fall term.”

  That damn money. From the moment his father had issued the check to the Jefferson family, it had felt like a barrier between him and Miranda. Not that Miranda’s mother didn’t deserve it. Warren Jefferson had died six months ago from a lung disease associated with his work around the chloride tanks at the paper mill Carter’s father owned. Warren had known the risks, signed a release of liability and taken the position because it paid more. Other men had done the same thing with no ill effects. But Warren had gotten sick, could no longer work, and the family had lived on disability for years. Raymond Cahill’s “blood money,” as Miranda called it, had avoided a long and costly lawsuit—and probably helped Raymond sleep at night.

  Carter tried to remain calm as Miranda gathered her thoughts for what she was about to say. This didn’t have to be bad news. He’d known Miranda wanted to go to college. Why shouldn’t she use some of the money to accomplish her goal? They could still make it work.

  “My mother is moving to Hickory to be near her sister,” Miranda said. “We’ve found her a condominium there where she’ll be comfortable.”

  “You’re moving?” Carter had said. It was only a couple of hours away, but the barrier kept growing.

  “Mama wants to leave Holly River,” Miranda said. “And the truth is, I do, too. It was okay when Daddy was still alive, but now... Both Mama and I need a fresh start away from the memories.” Her voice shook. “There has been so much grieving, and Mama doesn’t seem to be snapping out of it. She sits in a chair all day long just looking out a window. I think in some part of her mind she believes Daddy is coming home.

  “In her lucid moments, she’s bitter, Carter. She blames your father even though Daddy signed that release form. Legal papers don’t take away my mama’s sadness. She hates the Cahills. I know it doesn’t make sense...”

  Carter released her hand. He’d stared for long moments at the tree line at the perimeter of his mother’s garden where the apple orchard started. “I guess I understand that,” he’d finally said. “But Miranda, you know I’m not my father.” How many times had he said that over the years? He was so sick of apologizing for Raymond. “I suffered with you when your father died.”

  “I know that, but it’s not just Mama’s feelings about your family. Your father doesn’t approve of me, of us. You know it’s true. I’m a Jefferson from Liggett Mountain. You’re a Cahill. Your ancestors built this town.”

  Carter couldn’t deny the differences between them, but to him, the differences didn’t matter. “Do you think I give a darn about my father’s narrow-minded prejudice?”

  “I know you don’t, but the animosity is there, thick as mountain fog. It’s only going to get worse. What kind of a future could you and I build together if your daddy was constantly sabotaging us?”

  “I wouldn’t let him do that,” Carter had said.

  “I know you would try, but Carter, your father is a strong and determined man.” She paused, and he tried to think of something to counter what he’d known to be true. After a moment she said, “And Carter, this is a chance for me. I didn’t want to take money from your father from the beginning, but that check is giving my mama and me a new start. I need to get away from Holly River, the memories of my daddy’s illness. It’s so connected with your family, with...you. I can’t see any better use for it than as an investment in my future.”

  “Funny,” he’d snapped at her. “I thought I was your future.” She hadn’t said anything to that.

  “So, what are you saying, Miranda? You want us to break up?”

  “I think we need some time away from each other to let the feelings heal. I love you, but every time I look at you, I remember the way my family was torn apart. Maybe sometime if we want to try to make a go of it again...”

  “No.” He’d been hurting, and the hurt was quickly turning to anger. “I’m not going away to college hanging on to the memory of a girl who might want to see me again. This is it, Miranda. It’s either over or it isn’t, from this moment.” He’d taken a chance that day by calling her bluff, but he wasn’t going to give her an escape.

  She’d stood, moved away from the bench. “I’m sorry, Carter, but we’re not kids anymore. We have to face the reality of who we are, the responsibilities we have. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve meant to me, but...”

  “I get it, Miranda. It’s fine. Just go.”

  She’d gotten in her car and driven away.

  Carter remembered not eating or sleeping for days, but then he took an accounting of his life and made some changes. Two months after the breakup, he met Lainey Roberts at college. She was sweet and understanding, and he’d fallen hard for her. Maybe he wasn’t emotionally ready for that kind of commitment again, but he committed himself to Lainey anyway because that’s the kind of guy he’d always been—steady, faithful, needing to be needed by someone he could love. They made plans, decided to marry and have children. For a while his future seemed bright.

  And then he lost her, too, and Carter had to take another accounting of his life. This time he accepted that he wasn’t going to dive into another relationship again. He wouldn’t risk that kind of hurt a third time. He would dedicate himself to his work and living down the unsav
ory reputation Raymond Cahill had left in the town of Holly River when he died. It was enough for Carter.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BY THE TIME Miranda pulled into the parking lot for the Hummingbird Inn, she had calmed enough to think about the duties that lay ahead of her. She had to unpack two suitcases, prepare a lunch for her and Emily and talk to Mrs. Dillingham about a reasonable rate for renting the guest cottage behind the bed-and-breakfast, rather than just a room.

  Miranda had learned a great deal about the inn in just the few minutes she’d taken to register. The bed-and-breakfast had been open only a year. The Dillinghams had purchased an old wooden dormitory once used by a local college and turned it into a cozy and warm space for Holly River tourists. The cottage where Miranda was staying was a separate building that had recently been renovated from the original gardening shed. The colors of the cottage matched the crisp white-and-black exterior of the main building. Emily had fallen in love with the small porch with a swing hanging from the ceiling.

  “I want to stay here, Mom,” Emily had said when she first saw the cottage.

  Miranda found Mrs. Dillingham in the living room arranging a bouquet of fresh flowers.

  “Hello, dear,” Mrs. Dillingham said. “How was your morning?”

  “Fine, thanks. I’m going to be staying in Holly River for as much as a few weeks,” she said. “I like your cottage, and I’m wondering what weekly rate we might agree upon.”

  “Let’s see.” Mrs. Dillingham smiled down at Emily. “How do you like it here?”

  “It’s really nice,” Emily said.

  “Okay, then.” Lifting her gaze to Miranda, Mrs. Dillingham said, “How does two hundred per week sound?”

  “Like a very generous offer,” Miranda quickly agreed. “Thank you so much. I can start putting our things in there. Afterward, I’ll make a trip to the grocery to stock the kitchenette. I really appreciate this, Mrs. Dillingham.”

  “Call me Lucy,” the woman said. “After all, we’ll practically be family living so closely together.”

  Miranda reached for her credit card. “Let me go ahead and pay for the first week now, Lucy.”

  The innkeeper set down her pruning shears and walked to the registration counter. She concluded the payment by writing the name Larson in the guest book, and thanked Miranda for paying in advance. “By the way, dear, I know you used to live in Holly River. It must be nice to return to such a charming town and visit with old friends.”

  Knowing it was quite probable that Lucy Dillingham had never driven into the hills and hollows of Liggett Mountain, Miranda kept her response vague. “I doubt many of my friends from high school still live here. I’ve been gone for fourteen years, and unfortunately I didn’t keep in touch with my girlfriends from back then.”

  “What about family?” Lucy asked.

  Miranda explained that her mother lived in Hickory and her father was deceased. Lucy reacted with customary expressions of sympathy.

  “Then what brings you back here? Business perhaps?”

  Durham was certainly different from Holly River, Miranda thought. In Durham no one would think to ask her why she was staying in one location for any length of time. But it appeared that Holly River curiosity had infected Lucy Dillingham as it had everyone else in town for as long as Miranda could remember. “In a way,” she answered. “I do have a family member in the area who needs my help.”

  “Oh, my. Anyone I might know?”

  “I don’t think so...”

  “It’s our cousin, Lawton Jefferson,” Emily said. “Do you know Lawton?”

  Lucy’s expression changed from one of mild curiosity to something bordering shock and disgust. “You’re a Jefferson?” she asked.

  “I used to be,” Miranda said. “Larson is my married name, though I’m divorced now.”

  “Is Lawton related to Dale Jefferson?”

  Obviously Dale’s reputation had traveled even to this insulated place of charm and gentility in the middle of Holly River. “Yes, they’re brothers.”

  “I see. I’ve never personally met either one of the men. I understand Dale lives on Liggett Mountain.”

  “So does cousin Lawton,” Emily said. “He just got out of prison and moved in with cousin Dale.”

  Lucy slowly shook her head and mumbled, “Hmm...”

  Miranda patted the top of Emily’s head. “That’s enough for now, Em. We’ve interrupted Mrs. Dillingham’s chores enough, and we’ve got our own chores to do.”

  They started for the exit, but Lucy stopped them with one last question. “Will you be going to Liggett Mountain to help out or will your cousin be coming here?”

  Miranda understood the deeper meaning of the question. Please don’t allow your cousin to come on this property. “I doubt he’ll come here,” she said. “I’ve already been to the mountain today. It’s like going home to me. Liggett Mountain is where I grew up.”

  Lucy picked up a feather duster and flicked it over the top of her counter. “Have a nice day,” she said with cold indifference. Miranda figured she was probably regretting the two-hundred-dollar deal she’d made.

  When all their chores had been accomplished and the cottage was stocked with food, Miranda felt too lazy to fix dinner. “How would you like to go to the River Café, Em?” she asked her daughter. “If I remember correctly, there’s an ice-cream store right next door.”

  “I want to,” Emily said, reaching for her hairbrush. “I’m going to look nice in case we run into someone we know.”

  “We only know a handful of people, Em, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

  Emily began enumerating Holly River citizens on her fingers. “We know lots of people. Lucy, Lawton and Dale, and that policeman who talked about Daddy. We might see one of them.”

  Miranda marveled at her daughter’s enthusiasm. There was one person on that list who brought an old familiar tremble to Miranda’s chest, and she certainly couldn’t admit to the rush of complicated feelings, even to herself.

  * * *

  THE RIVER CAFÉ was crowded this Friday evening. Tourists occupied the outside seating area, where they could enjoy the live entertainment. Tonight Carter’s younger brother, Jace, was strumming his guitar for Diana Melton, who could carry a sweet tune about as well as anyone in town. Tourists who wanted a quieter environment sat at the interior dining room tables. Holly River locals gathered at pub tables in the bar, where Carter had agreed to meet his friend Sam McCall after work. Carter glanced at his watch. Sam was late, so he ordered a beer and waited.

  Sam came striding in a little after seven and settled on the other of the bar-height stools across from Carter. “Been waiting long?”

  “Only as long as it takes to down one beer,” Carter said.

  “You’re one ahead of me,” Sam said. He raised a finger to get the waitress’s attention and indicated he’d like two more brews brought to the table. Then he leaned across the table and said, “You see that waitress?”

  “Yeah,” Carter said. “I ordered my first beer from her. Don’t think I’ve seen her in the café before, though.”

  “She’s cute, don’t you think?”

  “Sure. She’s cute.”

  “Her name’s Allie and she’s new in town. She waited on me Wednesday night.”

  Carter studied the waitress as she lingered at the bar for the bartender to fill the order. Pretty brown hair, a cute figure that showed to its full advantage in the River Café T-shirt. “So that’s why you wanted to come to this place,” Carter said.

  “Good deduction. That’s why you’re the chief, Chief.”

  Allie brought the drinks and set them on the table. “Hey, I remember you,” she said to Sam. “Wednesday night, right?”

  Sam grinned in that easy, redheaded way a lot of Irish guys seemed blessed with at birth. Sam was the hottest bachelor in town. He attr
acted many local girls, but this was the first time Carter could remember his seriously returning the attention.

  Sam leaned back, kept the grin in place and said, “Say, that’s a pretty ring you’re wearing.”

  Allie held up both hands. “I’m not wearing a ring.”

  Sam laughed. “I know you’re not. Works every time. It’s an old cop trick.”

  She returned his smile with her own flirty grin. “Somehow you don’t seem like an old cop.”

  Allie sauntered off to another table, and Carter just stared at his friend. “Could you be more obvious, Sam?”

  “Sure could. Watch and learn, my friend. By the end of the night I’ll have her phone number and a few other vital statistics.”

  Despite the troubling day Carter was having, he smiled. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “What’s with the glum expression you were wearing when I got to the table, Carter? You seem down even for you. Something bothering you?”

  Carter didn’t appreciate the unwarranted critique of his personality. He didn’t think he was a downer. He was just a guy who’d loved and lost not one woman, but two, and was working his way back up the emotional ladder. And despite that ladder appearing to reach into the clouds sometimes, Carter thought he was doing darn well. “Not especially,” he said.

  “Then my guess is, this has something to do with an old girlfriend coming to town,” Sam said.

  Carter settled back on his stool and shook his head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Who told you about that?”

  “Betsy. She was practically bursting with the news. Says she remembers you and this Miranda gal from when you were both in high school.” Sam took a long sip of beer. “Kinda romantic if you ask me—two sweethearts meeting up again. Bet you were prom king and queen.”

  Carter wasn’t about to admit that Sam was only half-right. Miranda had been beaten for the crown by a Winchester Ridge debutante. Carter’s dance with the queen had seemed like the longest of his life while Miranda stood on the side and watched.

  “Who cares about all that high school stuff?” he said. “It’s all history.”