by Leigh Riker
* * *
EMMIE HELD ANNABELLE’S HAND, her grip tightening as they neared the door to the day care center. “You come back?”
“By five o’clock,” Annabelle assured her, although Emmie definitely had little concept of time. She was wavering again, torn between playing with her new friends and fearing she’d be left here as Sierra had left her alone in strange hotel rooms—another reason why traveling with Emmie wasn’t the best option.
Their new routine had become second nature to Annabelle. Each morning, as soon as the day care center opened, she joined the flow of parents’ cars into the parking lot then led Emmie inside and helped her out of her coat. Annabelle had bought her a new navy blue one with white frog closings, but Emmie couldn’t work them yet. Once she was settled in the dress-up area or playing with trucks with some kids her age, including Seth Barnes, Annabelle slipped away.
She worked until four thirty then left her head cook in charge of her waitstaff, returning with Emmie from day care for a few more hours until closing. So much juggling of time and obligations could be exhausting, but Annabelle was managing this new, if temporary, position pretty well by now.
“There’s no parenting manual,” Olivia had told her. “Well, there is, but we all learn by doing. So will you.”
At the time Annabelle hadn’t believed her, but here she was, leaning down to kiss Emmie goodbye for the day, savoring the sweet smell of her at the same time she tensed inside, dreading another meltdown. When the tantrum didn’t come, she breathed a sigh of relief at the same time she knew everything might change soon. If an appointment later worked out...this would be a really big day. “Have a good time, sweetie. How does breakfast for dinner sound tonight?”
“Eggs,” Emmie said. Finn’s favorite. To Annabelle’s surprise, the little girl stood on tiptoe to frame her face in both hands and kiss Annabelle’s cheek. Her heart melted as Emmie ran off across the room, calling out, “I coming! Yellow truck mine!”
Annabelle was smiling through blurred vision when she stepped outside and met up with Elizabeth Barnes. They exchanged greetings as Seth raced past them into the center yelling for Emmie. “No more tears?” Elizabeth asked, looking much calmer than the first day Annabelle had seen her here.
“She’s doing better. Seth, too?”
“He can’t wait to see Emmie every morning. She’s such a cutie.”
“Emmie is a dear when she wants to be.”
After they made plans for the children to get together for a playdate at the park, Annabelle headed for her car, but she’d no sooner said goodbye to Elizabeth than her steps faltered. Finn’s cruiser had pulled in to a nearby parking space. She wasn’t eager to see him. He had every right to his opinion, but he’d made her feel guilty that she couldn’t keep Emmie, wouldn’t give up her plan to see the world beyond Barren and the diner. And Finn didn’t know about her upcoming course. Last night after Emmie went to sleep, Annabelle had searched online for plane tickets to Phoenix. She wondered if other people might think she was being selfish, but surely there was more to life than living out her days, as her parents expected, tied to a diner she despised? And when it finally sold, her livelihood here would go with it.
For a moment Finn stood beside his car, and with another start she realized he was wearing his full uniform, complete with a gold star on his chest. She’d never seen him in anything but jeans and a polo shirt or, once, the dark suit he’d worn for Sierra’s funeral. His official presence, although more than appealing, reeked of authority and caught her off guard.
He strolled toward her. “Morning. You’re out early.”
“I’m always out early,” she said, “to bring Emmie to day care.”
His gaze didn’t meet hers. “I’m here to give my ‘a cop is your friend’ talk.”
“Emmie will be thrilled to see you.” More than that, she thought. Emmie asked every night When Finn coming to our house? The question always made Annabelle feel guiltier than she already did. Her parents’ home wouldn’t be Emmie’s forever.
“I’m speaking to the ‘older’ kids today,” Finn said. “That means the four- and almost-five-year-olds. Emmie’s group will get my talk next year.”
If she’s still here, Annabelle imagined him thinking, but he didn’t say that.
A silence fell between them. Finn shifted his weight, and Annabelle said, hoping to break the awkward quiet, “How’s your new place?”
“Coming along,” he murmured. “I’ve already decided it will be a never-ending story.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for the bath towels. They’re nice and thick.”
Annabelle looked down at his hands, and a fresh wave of awareness washed through her. Finn had strong hands with sturdy wrists. “You’re welcome. I wanted to get you something practical.” And not too personal, although now she could imagine him using the towels after his shower and had to will the image from her mind. “Well, enjoy the farm and your speech to the children. I need to get to work.”
She took one step toward her car before Finn caught the crook of her arm, his grasp light and warm. “Annabelle, the other day I was way off base. It’s none of my business what you decide for Emmie. I know you’ll keep her best interests in mind and in...your heart. I admit I’m a little touchy about kids. When I first came to Barren, I was determined not to even notice them. Every little boy reminded me of Alex.”
Her tone softened. “Of course they did. So did Emmie.”
“I tried not to get attached to her, but who could keep from that?” They both smiled. In her better moods Emmie was a charmer. “At the same time I wanted to turn away, I couldn’t stop myself from just...taking her in. I’m still not sure that’s a good idea. For her either.”
Annabelle could understand that. “Neither am I. But she liked you on sight, probably in part because she never knew her dad.” That threatened to bring up the subject of Annabelle’s search for him. She wasn’t going there again. She eased her arm from his hand. “Apology accepted.” She decided to share the news that had been bubbling up inside, even when Finn probably wouldn’t like it. “The diner has been on the market for a while, but this afternoon—finally!—a possible buyer has an appointment with my Realtor to see the restaurant.” Beforehand, she had to make sure the diner looked in tip-top shape. When she shut and locked the door for the last time, she would walk away from all the pots and pans, every piece of equipment for good. She’d also be walking away from Emmie.
“If that’s what you want, I hope you get an offer.” Finn looked toward the day care center. “I’ll try to stop in and say hello to the threes while I’m here.” He walked beside Annabelle to her car. There must be something else on his mind, as she’d thought twice before. “About Thanksgiving...” he began, proving her right.
Her lips firmed. “Yes, I kissed you first. That didn’t mean—”
“No, I meant to say that wasn’t just you. I did kiss you back.” His voice was low and husky, his hazel eyes darker. “Another thing I need to apologize for. Annabelle, I’m carrying a whole lot of baggage, and I don’t want to...lead you on.”
She stiffened. Humiliating enough that he’d warned her off, but she wouldn’t stand here and take it. “That assumes I’m interested.” She hoped her face didn’t flush.
“True,” he said. Did he sound disappointed? “All I can cope with is to do my job here, try to make a home for myself on that farm—” he raised an eyebrow “—and keep fighting Grey’s notion that, because he gave me a horse, I should become a rider.”
“You own a horse?”
“And a pony. All I can say is, they got me up this morning better than an alarm clock or my watch. Sure makes the place seem like a real farm.”
Annabelle couldn’t resist teasing him. “Next you’ll be getting some chickens.”
“Not likely. First thing I tore down was that old henhouse.” He paused. “I do have a new barn, courte
sy of Grey and a bunch of other people...” He took a breath. “You’re not tempted to clean my clock? After I all but told you to go away?”
“You don’t want another relationship,” she said around a tight lump in her throat. “I never expected one.” Forget her daydreams about him. He’d all but said he regretted that one kiss.
If only her awareness of Finn would leave her. To reassure him that she was, indeed, about to disappear from his life, as he obviously wanted, she felt tempted to tell him about her course, too. But she would make arrangements for Emmie first.
Finn held her door open then lingered after she shut it and he leaned over at her half-open window. The relief she saw in his dark-lashed eyes made his apology hurt even more, but she had the impression he wanted to smooth things over.
He looked away. “If you have time some day, bring Emmie to the farm. She might like to meet the new pony.”
* * *
ON HIS WAY back into town several hours later, wondering why he’d voiced the half-hearted invitation, Finn spied Derek near the café and pulled him over. At last, he thought.
“Aw, man,” Derek said with a groan.
“That’s Sheriff to you—official business.” Finn stood by Derek’s drive-side window. He’d gotten the call soon after he left Annabelle. “Sir would be even better.”
Derek was in his new truck. Shiny and with a bright speed-yellow paint job, it made quite the show around Barren, and every time Finn saw Derek racing along Main Street behind the wheel, country music blaring from the speakers through a closed window, Finn’s teeth ground together.
“I wasn’t speeding,” Derek said. “Why’d you stop me?”
“I need to question you. You can follow me back to the station. Don’t decide to run for it instead and make me chase you.”
“That sounds like fun.” Leaning one shoulder against the steering wheel, Derek gave an exaggerated sigh. “What’s the charge?”
“None yet but Earl’s Hardware got hit last night.”
“What’s that got to do with me? The alarm went off again? That old thing nearly made me deaf at least once a week when I lived there. Me and Calvin got waked up in the apartment above the store all the time.”
“In this case the alarm was valid. Guess whose prints were all over the main entrance?”
“That’s all you have?” Derek laughed. “Yeah, I was there. We went out drinking on my paycheck last night from Wilson Cattle, and when we come home, I meant to stay the night. No drinking and driving, Sheriff, but Calvin had locked himself out. Only way we could get in was through the store up the back stairs.”
“So you jimmied the door.” Which, Finn remembered, was Derek’s usual method.
“Yes, sir,” Derek drawled.
“All right, let’s go.” Finn didn’t finish before Derek gunned his engine and took off going zero to fifty in seconds.
Finn cursed aloud. Pursuing him down Main Street with shoppers walking to and from stores on either side wasn’t his idea of good police work—innocent people could get hurt during a chase—but Finn hit the lights and siren and floored the gas pedal anyway. He was too mad to fall back.
At high speed Derek’s new truck raced over the pavement, veering close to a parked car near the feed store then crossing the centerline toward the Baby Things shop on the other side. Adrenaline surged through Finn. If Derek leaped the curb, he’d plow right into the woman with a stroller—was that Blossom?—and an older couple who were shuffling along the sidewalk toward Shadow’s agency. Derek managed to stay on the north side of the street, but by then he’d almost reached the local elementary school.
The buses were rolling in to pick up students, the morning-session kindergartners going home. A bunch of younger kids had gathered near the entrance with a teacher, but one boy darted closer to the road and Finn eased off the gas. An image of Emmie flashed through his mind. She wasn’t there, but Finn couldn’t risk anyone getting hurt, or worse.
Heart in his throat, Finn killed the siren then slammed one hand against the steering wheel in frustration.
Ahead of him, Derek had swung onto Hemlock Street past Annabelle’s Diner and was probably tearing toward the highway entrance that led to Farrier in one direction and Kansas City in the other. Finn shook his head.
Unless Derek left the county or the state, Finn knew where to find him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
COFFEEPOT IN HAND, Annabelle froze. A yellow pickup truck blew past the diner with Finn’s patrol car right behind, lights flashing, siren screaming down Main Street. Everyone in the restaurant stopped eating to look out the front windows, and Annabelle raised one hand to her throat. “Goodness, I wonder what that’s all about.”
With a scowl Harry Barnes was already on his feet, heading for the door, cell phone squashed against his ear. “Put lunch on my tab,” he said, motioning his aides to follow, which they did like ducks in a row.
Several women who occupied the last booth that belonged to Finn in Annabelle’s mind craned their necks, as if hoping to see the action. But by then, the two vehicles had disappeared. “They were almost at the school,” Annabelle said, fearing for the students and grateful that Emmie’s day care was at the other end of town. “I hope no one gets hurt.”
Nell Sutherland set her napkin aside. “That was Derek Moran’s truck.”
“Are you sure?”
“He bought it a few days ago. He’s been showing off all over town.”
“He doesn’t get along with the sheriff,” one of the women said. “That boy has been in one scrape after another since he was ten years old—in part, thanks to that brother of his. Wanda certainly had her hands full with those two.”
More unasked-for opinions followed but Annabelle had learned long ago to shut her ears to local gossip. “More coffee, Mrs. Whittaker? And how does the Italian crème cake look to you today?” She included the other three women in the booth. “Dessert, everyone?”
With their orders in and no more sirens shrieking through the normally peaceful air outside, the talk died down. Annabelle returned to Nell’s table. The lunch crowd was thinning out hours before the dinner customers would arrive, and she’d have to clear tables, straighten things up for the Realtor’s first showing, then help with the prep work for tonight before she picked up Emmie, but Nell had come in several times since the Girls’ Night Out meeting and today she was still fretting about her grandfather.
“Thanks to him, I gave up on Derek pretty fast,” she told Annabelle, “but I’m telling you, Belle, if PawPaw takes off for Montana, as he keeps threatening to do, I’ll never speak to him again.”
Annabelle smiled. “I thought you were fine on your own. Maybe spending time with his brother would perk him up and he’d come home able to work beside you.”
“If he came back,” Nell said, staring into her cup.
Annabelle frowned. “Ned loves the NLS like my parents loved this diner,” she said.
She wanted to tell Nell about her upcoming course, but the news would spread all over town and reach Finn. He might not care, except about Emmie, but every time she saw him she feared he’d see the truth about Annabelle’s hopeless crush in her eyes when she knew his view about relationships, and after their last talk she certainly knew his view about Emmie.
When Nell asked about her a minute later, Annabelle said, “She hasn’t let me alone since she learned Finn has a pony.”
Nell grinned. “Let her start early. We can use more cowgirls around here.”
“You would say that.” Annabelle took a step away from the table. She wasn’t about to take Emmie to the farm, or to open her own heart again to Finn. Maybe she shouldn’t care what he might think about her course. “From my standpoint, I’m better off staying clear of the farm—and him.” Nell’s gaze sharpened, but before she could say anything, Annabelle said, “I have to wonder why he was chasing D
erek.”
“Could be any number of things. Derek has a bad streak and Finn’s such a straight arrow.” Nell rose from her seat then dug into her jeans pocket for some bills, which she handed to Annabelle. “I’m more than grateful Derek was a bad actor with me—and in PawPaw’s mind—because my grandfather steered me to someone else. That didn’t work out either, and Derek went on to sow his wild oats elsewhere, but at least I had a better—if limited—relationship after that.”
“Someone serious?” Annabelle had never heard of a real romance for Nell, who kept to herself, like Finn. Rarely talkative about personal matters, she didn’t respond.
“Oh, before you go, you are coming to our next meeting?” Annabelle asked.
“Not if it means talking about my private life.” As Nell reached the front door, she turned back. “About those wild oats...you should know this much. Derek Moran tossed me aside like that old Chevy Nova of his for Sierra Hartwell.”
* * *
WHEN SARGE STARTED BARKING, Finn glanced up from painting his new barn doors an eye-catching brick red. For the past several hours, he’d been stewing about Derek, and now Annabelle was coming up the drive again, her car bouncing over the ruts he hadn’t filled, as if the hounds of hell were after her. The sedan slid to a stop mere feet from the bucket of paint he’d just opened.
Annabelle flung her door wide. “You won’t believe what I just heard.”
Sarge’s welcoming yips and the demanding shouts from the rear child seat of Annabelle’s car all but drowned out what she’d said. Emmie waved her hands in the air, beseeching someone to free her, yelling, “Want to see pony!”
“Hold on, Annabelle.” Finn unbuckled Emmie’s straps then lifted her out. “Hey, short stuff. You must be eating well. You’re almost too big to carry.”
“I eat doughnuts—and eggs.” Emmie cupped his face in her hands, leaving a sticky residue. “See you too, Finn.”
Glad to have her visit when he knew that wasn’t wise, he affected a puzzled expression. “But what’s this I hear about a pony? No horses here.”