Broken Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 1)

by Kelly Collins

  I scooped up the shepherd’s pie, proud of how well my dish had turned out. It wasn’t officially a competition, but of course, my brothers and I treated it like one, and my meal was better than theirs, meaning I won. I needed to start stepping it up, though, because Bayden’s cooking skills were improving. No way I could let him be better at it than I was.

  I added carrots and a roll to Kandra’s plate and passed it to her. She picked up the honey, split her roll, and dumped the sweet stuff on it. It was something she did and had gotten Ethan and Quinn stuck on. They’d never tried honey on rolls before, and now they were hooked. I admired her appetite, and given that she was growing a baby, she needed the extra calories.

  “It’s not like I’m actively trying not to meet someone,” Quinn said to our mother while Bayden glanced at his phone under the edge of the table. I didn’t doubt he was texting Miranda, given the grin on his face. She was the only one that made him smile like that. I hoped he would find love and that the battles would be few.

  As Quinn and Ethan chatted with Mom about their sad lack of love lives, I watched Kandra. She watched them talk but caught my eye and flashed a slight smile that lit up my life. We were going to have our child any day now—our child.

  I’d slipped up and said something to the effect of you’re having my baby while we argued about her climbing a stepladder. I’d been so afraid she might fall that the words slipped out along with some variation of I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt. She’d smiled, then said, your baby? Ever since then, I said my baby or our baby, and I stood by that. I would love the child as my own. In fact, I already did. I didn’t give a shit who donated the sperm. I would be present and teach the little one to ride a bike and fish. It would be me showing him how to be a good man if he were a boy and demand a good partner if she were a girl. Scratch that, if it was a she, I wouldn’t let her out of the house until she was thirty.

  “You okay?” Kandra asked.

  “Couldn’t be better.” Surrounded by family, I realized I only had one regret and that was that Dad wasn’t here. He would love every second of this. He’d relish the joy and love.

  I glanced at his picture, one similar to the one Kandra gave me. She printed a photo of Dad for everyone in the family, and now he sat, watching us eat dinner, his smile warming the room. For a moment, I swore I could hear his voice.

  I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.

  I glanced at my wife, joy flooding every inch of my being. My life was full to bursting and better than I could have ever imagined.

  I was once broken and wasn’t sure if I would ever be whole again, but with Kandra by my side, I was finally complete. I didn’t doubt that my father knew it, that he was happy for me, and that he was smiling on us from wherever he was.

  I touched Kandra’s belly and smiled as the little one pushed back.

  Life was perfect in Cross Creek. It was a town with a population of 2,500 people, and I couldn’t get enough of the five I loved the most.

  Sneak Peek at Fearless Hart

  Miranda

  I didn’t drive the old back roads because they reminded me of where I’d grown up and memories I wasn’t ready to face; memories I'd fled to Cross Creek to escape.

  But the funny thing about the past is that it has a way of following no matter how far or fast you run.

  My Tahoe’s headlights danced as my tires hit three potholes, perfectly staggered to be impossible to miss.

  “Damn it,” I growled as my water bottle popped out of the cup holder to roll around on the passenger floor, well out of reach. Not that I’d be so irresponsible as to reach for it while I was driving.

  I wouldn’t even be on this bumpy-ass road if I hadn’t received a report that someone was on an old farm out here. A neighbor called in a suspicious vehicle, and though there was little to no crime in Cross Creek, I still needed to check it out. Nothing got past the old folks in this town. They might have been deaf, but they heard everything; blind but somehow could see a trespasser from a mile away.

  No doubt I’d probably just come across teens making out and send them on their way. I’d already heard from dispatch that Ethel tried to talk her ear off while making the call, and I smiled as I thought about the sweet old couple. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief that the call was over trespassers and not more drama from Benji, the town journalist, who took it upon himself to air everyone else’s dirty laundry. Publishing that article about Kandra’s personal life was just bad journalism counting on sensationalism, and it almost broke Kandra and Noah up.

  Hitting the brakes, I waited for two deer who entered the road. They stopped mid-lane, staring at me before bolting across the street into the field’s chest-high grass.

  I watched them go while my thoughts wandered back to how Benji would get out of this trouble. Something about him set off my alarm bells a long time ago. But what he’d done to Kandra was downright predatory, and the entire town saw it and rallied behind her.

  Just last week, there had been a town-wide baby shower for the mom-to-be, and she and Noah were guests of honor. Everyone showed up and brought more things than one child could ever use or need.

  An event like that told me exactly what kind of town I lived in. On the flip side, Benji had found himself persona non grata. Even Roy booted him, which meant I could go to the bar for a beer to unwind without the nosy journalist bugging me for an interview.

  “Good riddance.” The sound of my voice echoed through the cab of the cruiser. “I don’t want him digging into my past for dirt because my life is a damn landfill.”

  The old farmhouse loomed to my right, rising like an ethereal ghost through the layer of fog drifting in from the creek. A truck came into view, and I chuckled. Things were about to get more interesting. I hadn’t stumbled upon kids making out after all.

  My pulse was racing as I parked. Trying to steady it, I scooped my water bottle off the passenger floor and took a long drink before exiting my vehicle.

  My eyes adjusted to the total darkness while I moved to the truck. Overhead, a billion stars shone like an impossible scattering of fairy lights. The moon added a silvery glow as my breath hung in mini clouds near my face.

  The dark mixed with the night lit up by stars, and the left behind fog gave the whole place an almost spooky feel as I approached Bayden’s form. That curious warmth he evoked in me didn’t escape my notice, and I wondered if I was developing feelings because of how much we talked. I mean, he was part of the crew building the new police station. We consulted quite a lot, so the time we spent together would lead to a kind of closeness, right?

  Maybe that was what I told myself to keep from panicking over feeling something toward someone. Relationships were not my superpower, and I avoided them like the plague.

  “Am I going to have to cuff you?” I tucked my thumbs into my service belt and stopped a few feet away from him.

  He chuckled. “Is that what you’re into, Sheriff?” His husky tone sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Risky question.” I took a few steps closer to where the dirt road gave way to open fields of tall grass that danced in the sudden breeze. “It could end well for you, or you could wind up in the drunk tank.” I arched an eyebrow at him.

  He turned to face me, his handsome features clothed in an interesting mix of low light and deep shadows.

  “What makes you think one of those isn’t ending well for me?” His devilish grin broke me, and I let out a laugh.

  “I guess if that’s what you like, I can oblige.” I reached for my cuffs, and he lifted both hands in mock surrender. “But really, why are you out here?”

  “Did Ethel call me in?” he asked, sounding unfazed.

  I shifted my weight and scanned the field as the wind continued to toy with the dry grass. “Now isn’t the time to be dodgy.”

  “Of course, she did.” He let out a chuckle.

  It didn’t matter who had called him in; he was missing the point. “You’re not supposed to be out here.�
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  “I’m sorry, but it’s a good place to think, and it’s abandoned. I didn’t mean any harm.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, his body language still open and approachable despite the slight show of nerves.

  The raw honesty of his words made me pause, and I swapped my sheriff’s hat for my friend hat, the same way I would for anyone showing signs of distress. “What’s on your mind?” I moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with him as he angled his body toward the old farmhouse. Under the moon’s light, I saw the disrepair, the side panels falling away from the walls, the broken windows, the moss taking over an entire corner of the building.

  “My dad built this place. It was his first real project. It was a passion project; off the books.” His reflective tone drew the heart right out of my chest. “When I’m out here, I feel closer to him.”

  I nodded because there was nothing I needed to say. I’d stand there with Bayden for a few moments.

  “But I’m ready to go,” he mumbled with a sideways glance at me.

  “I can give you a ride back.” I lifted my shoulders, unsure if he was in any condition to drive.

  He hesitated, then nodded. “That would be great. I’ll have one of my brothers bring me back out tomorrow to get my truck.”

  “Noted,” I said with a smile as we walked back toward my Tahoe.

  On the way back, I took the surprise potholes more gently, though my water bottle still popped out of the holder. He caught the dark-blue bottle and tucked it back into its place.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He lifted a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but I hated the thing always escaping to crash around on the passenger floor. I’d been trying to fix it, but nothing had worked.

  “Thank you,” he said instead, staring out the window over the passing fields that enclosed the dirt road on both sides leading up to the old farmhouse. “For listening.”

  I sensed it was a struggle to open up and identified with that sentiment on more levels than I cared to admit. Sure, we talked, but it was never personal. Flirtatious? Yes. Intimate? No.

  Before I could respond, he spoke up again. “And thanks, I guess, for not arresting me.”

  “You guess?” I said, arching an eyebrow at the road because there was no way I’d look at him.

  “Well, there are worse things a beautiful woman could do to me, you know.” I could imagine his panty-dropping smile, though I was immune—my panties weren’t going anywhere.

  If anyone else had said that, I’d be pissed. I’d feel like they were undermining my authority. But Bayden put me at ease, and our relaxed friendship had already proven he respected me far more than many people that blindly trusted me because of my badge. He didn’t respect me out of obligation. He respected me because I’d proven I deserved his regard. There was a difference.

  He angled his body toward me, tightening his belt as I pulled out onto the main highway. “Would you like to get a drink?” he asked in an even, hopeful tone.

  I wanted to. I did. A beer sounded heavenly, but I shook my head no. “Can’t, sorry. I’m on duty, and the city kind of frowns on officers drinking on the job.”

  “Where’s your wild side—your sense of adventure?” He turned to stare at me. “Wait, the city only kind of frowns on it?”

  He was something else.

  I loved that he could make me laugh. I loved his quick humor and how easy he made our friendship. Despite the jokes and innuendo, which I was equally responsible for and an active participant most of the time, there were no expectations. There was no pressure. He was a friend, though the sexual attraction I had for him was anything but friendly.

  Putting the brakes on those thoughts, I eased off the gas. No reason to speed on these roads in the dark. Not with the deer out and moving around under the light of the moon. Besides, I wasn’t in a hurry since there wasn’t much to do in a town with no actual crime.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he said.

  I could feel his worried eyes studying me.

  “It’s Friday night, and I’m on a double shift.” I usually worked twelve-hour shifts, but on Friday night, because of the occasional teen parties and minor issues like someone drinking too much and stumbling home, or even some random person trespassing at an old farmhouse, I worked a double.

  “Need coffee?” He nodded at Roy’s. Roy served coffee, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be seen in the bar.

  “I can run in and grab you one to go if that helps.”

  On impulse, I pulled in, parked in a spot, and turned to him. “That sounds wonderful.” I dug in my pocket, but he was out and gone before I could pull out my wallet. A few moments later, he was back with a steaming hot coffee in a cardboard to-go cup.

  Bayden opened the door and got in. “Roy said he knows how you like it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me as the mouthwatering scent of—nonalcoholic—Irish cream and coffee met my nose.

  “You’re funny,” I said, taking it and inhaling the steam before putting it in the cup holder on my side. I didn’t like to put anything there because it was easy to bump with my knee, but I couldn’t put it on his side where my water bottle was.

  “Thanks.”

  I offered him money to pay for the coffee, and he stared at it, then at me as if I’d lost my mind. “I’m allowed to show my appreciation by buying an officer’s coffee, right?”

  I couldn’t hold back a grin. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I want to.” He buckled up, and I backed out and nosed the Tahoe toward his place with my heart feeling as warm as the coffee.

  When I pulled in front of his house, I waited a second before speaking. “Try not to break the law, okay?”

  He gave me a quick salute along with that cavalier grin that told me I hadn’t seen the last of him before he climbed out of the SUV and headed toward his front door. I waited until he opened the door, worried about the melancholy attitude he had when I’d caught him at the old farm. He spun around in the doorway to face me with a warm smile on his face.

  With a shake of my head, I pulled away from the curb. Bayden Lockhart was trouble, and I knew it.

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  About the Author

  International bestselling author of more than thirty novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.

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