Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Are you okay, Miss Clarke?”

  Confusion clouded her features.

  “Banks Montgomery. You were a few years behind me. But we rode the same bus. I’m the sheriff.”

  “Right. Oh.” Her brow furrowed and she let out a breath. “I’m fine.”

  That sounded like a lie if he’d ever heard one.

  “That guy out there…”

  “Rob,” she supplied.

  “Rob’s pretty hot under the collar right now, and that’s a mighty bruise you have on your arm. Do you want to press charges?”

  *

  Press charges. That was serious. If she still wanted to go to Salt Lake City with him, it didn’t seem like the wisest course of action. She looked down at her arm to find the bruise Banks had mentioned. She’d never pictured herself an abused woman. Even when Rob had explosive angry outbursts in the past. But here she was in this town, with a sheriff looking her over, and a big hand shaped bruise growing on her arm.

  Not how she’d expected the announcement of her first pregnancy to the child’s father to turn out.

  “Oh, uh. No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want to press charges. He just needs some time to calm down. I just bruise easy.”

  She examined Banks’ face. She did remember him, now. It was hard to forget the big, rugged kid he’d been. Handsome, in a quiet, friendly way. He’d always been that kid who kept the peace—and big enough that nobody ever argued about it. It made sense he’d be in law enforcement now. And he was still handsome, all grown up. His solid ruggedness had grown into a big, wide shouldered man, a few inches taller even than the bartender, Layla, who she’d learned was married to the sheriff’s brother while they’d waited. He wore a black felt cowboy hat, a light gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark washed jeans that fit just so. And cowboy boots. Not like any law enforcement officers she’d ever seen in Denver. Clearly, when you were the sheriff, you got to take certain liberties with your wardrobe. She wasn’t about to complain, though.

  Her response hadn’t been what he’d expected—that much was written all over his face.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded resolutely. “Yeah. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble,” he replied, shaking his head. He pointed to the badge clipped to his shirt pocket. “I’m the sheriff; this is what I’m here for. But if you say so, I’ll respect that. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, I feel bad you came all the way out here. He’d have calmed down.”

  She wasn’t sure Banks believed her because he glanced at Layla then, as if she’d give him a better idea of what happened. He probably wasn’t wrong, there. When she tried to replay the events of the last hour, all she could remember was the squeeze of his fingers on her arm and searing embarrassment. Just the thought of it made her heart race. It might have been the adrenaline or maybe just the pregnancy hormones. She shook her head to try to dislodge the fear.

  “I’m just doin’ my job,” he said, like the epitome of every tall, chivalrous cowboy from every western movie she’d ever seen. The phone he wore on his hip holster rang then and he held up a finger to put a pin in their conversation. “Hang on one second, Norah.”

  “Now I remember you,” Layla said, stepping in while Banks stepped away to take his call. “Banks has always had a better mind for this kind of stuff, anyways. Guess that’s why he’s sheriff and I’m not.”

  Despite herself, Norah smiled. Layla was a warm, friendly woman. Built like an Amazon, and beautiful, she’d kept Norah focused on small talk while waiting for the sheriff. She could see them having been friends had Norah’s parents not left Three Rivers.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything we can do for you?” Layla pressed. “Anybody we can call?”

  Norah shook her head. “What you’re doing is exactly what I need.”

  “Sorry about that.” Banks stepped back to the girls. “If you’re sure there’s nothing we can do for you today, I’ve got to head out. The Sampson’s cattle are on the highway.”

  “I was just telling Layla what you did was exactly what I needed. All I need.”

  “You’re welcome to stay in here as long as you need to,” Layla said. “Give him as much time as he needs to cool down.”

  “I don’t hear him out there anymore anyways,” Banks interjected. Then he looked at Norah hard. Scrutinizing. As if testing her for any doubt she might have about going anywhere with Rob. His voice dropped an octave, then, insistent. “If you don’t want to go with him, you don’t have to. We can look after you here and help you get a bus home. Don’t feel like you have to go with him just because you came with him.”

  “I appreciate that,” Norah said. Right now, she wasn’t sure what her next step would be. A bus back home sounded good, but there wasn’t much in Denver for her anymore. She barely spoke to her parents and her friend group had dwindled dramatically when she’d taken up with Rob. She would figure it out, for the sake of her and her baby. She didn’t have any other choice.

  —TWO—

  “Just…try a little harder next time, Jerry,” Banks said with a chuckle, shaking his head as he climbed into his cruiser. It never failed—every spring and every fall, Jerry Sampson’s herd ended up on the highway. It always coincided with moving them to their new pasture, fresh heifers feeling the spring air like now, or cows getting pissed off about their territory being reined in for winter. It wasn’t a matter of if these days, it was a matter of when. Luckily, nothing bad tended to happen, and Banks usually got a piece of apple pie from Mrs. Sampson out of it. Today, knowing it was Sunday and that he was on his way to Nan’s for a family dinner, she’d given him the whole damn pie. He wasn’t complaining, but he was debating on whether he’d actually bring it into Nan’s place or just take it home for himself.

  He waved as he pulled away, through cow patties on the pavement, and swung back toward town. These silly, only-happen-in-a-small-town things he got called to made his day, really. The job was generally mundane, because the people of Three Rivers were all good at heart. They cared and looked out for one another. He rarely got called to anything that wasn’t livestock at large or a disturbance based on a misunderstanding or one too many at Danny’s. Occasionally, he got called to give a siren escort to someone trying to get to the hospital in Johnston in a hurry. Today’s incident at the bar was nearly unheard of. And out-of-towners, to boot. Well, one at least.

  Speaking of out of towners… Banks’ brow furrowed as he rounded a corner and saw an up-until-recently-unfamiliar face dragging her feet down the sidewalk by the pharmacy. He’d expected she and Rob would be long gone by now, so seeing her here was a jolt to his system, and not just in the surprise type of way. He would be lying if he said she wasn’t attractive. Just his type, really. Built solid, with those soft waves of gold hair, and curves that were made for putting hands on. But she was someone else’s woman, and he didn’t have time for the distractions women came with, so he refrained from letting his mind go down that path. He could enjoy the view, disconcerting as it was to know she and her good-for-nothing man were still in town. He flicked on his signal light and pulled over.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, rolling down the passenger side window. “Everything good?”

  “Yeah,” she said, biting her lip, but not quick enough he didn’t see it tremble. She had a backpack over her shoulder and she shifted, uncomfortable, working hard not to meet his eyes.

  “You sure?” he asked, frowning.

  “Um…” she blew a wavering breath out and when she finally let her gaze meet his, her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

  “Hey,” Banks said softly. “Why don’t you get in?”

  He reached across the seat and opened the door. She moved slowly, but she did climb into the cruiser.

  “So what’s going on?” he asked.

  She shook her head, brushed a coupl
e tears off her cheek flippantly.

  “Sorry, I…” she sniffled. “I feel so silly.”

  “You’re not silly.”

  “Rob left.”

  “He left?” Banks had figured out from their brief interaction that Rob wasn’t an especially decent type of person, but this still surprised him.

  “Yeah…he drove away while I was in the bar. Put my backpack down by the door,” she said, her fingers toying with a fringe of unraveled threads on one of her pack straps. “He’s never done anything like this, so I had no idea he could. And now I don’t know what to do. My mom’s Aunt Gloria still lives here in town, I think. I thought maybe I could bunk with her until I figure out what to do next. I don’t have any other options.”

  Banks knew that situation—Aunt Gloria had moved out of her home and into the town’s senior’s residence three years ago. His Nan visited her often, but there were certainly no spare beds. He wasn’t sure how to break that to her, but he was sure there’d easily be an extra plate at Nan’s table and clean linens for the bed in her vacant basement apartment. That apartment had been a godsend for more than a handful of people—he, Nate, and even Layla had all spent some time there during low or rocky parts of their life, and it always seemed to be available when someone really needed it.

  “Your great aunt sure does still live here,” he confirmed. “But I’m afraid she moved into Shady Pines a few years back. There’d be no place for you to stay.”

  “Well there goes that plan,” Norah replied, her voice thick. She drew a breath that broke, and then slumped into the seat.

  “Hey, my Nan puts on a big Sunday supper every week. I’m going there now. Why don’t you come with me? I know she’s got a spare spot to tuck you up in for the night, and she’ll take you to visit Gloria tomorrow. You can make a plan from there.”

  She sniffed, and he gave her the privacy of not looking at her while she was clearly composing herself, but he did see her shoulders straighten in his peripheral vision.

  “Layla will be there. Whaddaya say?”

  “Thank you, that would be nice,” she said quietly.

  Banks flipped the opposite signal light and pulled away from the curb. She was part of town family, under his jurisdiction now.

  *

  Norah remembered this house. Vague, like a foggy memory. She couldn’t quite place any actual memories here, but as Banks reminded her that his Nan was a member of just about every organization in town, she figured she’d probably met her at one of the many children’s programs when her parents dumped her off so they could have a child-free afternoon. As Banks’ cruiser pulled up in front of it, she could see figures moving in the windows, backlit by the warm glow of the kitchen light. A young man, probably Nate, Banks’ brother. And Layla, and Banks’ nephew, Mason, who he couldn’t stop talking about once she got him started. It was easy to make brief comments that steered Banks’ rambling conversation to places where she could just listen, talking about the town and how things had changed since she’d last been here.

  Just hearing him talk about these people, even the ones who weren’t kin, brought back a warm feeling of belonging. He spoke so fondly of each of them, like everybody was a part of his family. It was clear by his words that he genuinely cared for each person in his jurisdiction. It was a welcome distraction. She was scrambling to figure out what her next move would be, but he talked like they had all the time in the world. Maybe he wasn’t wrong.

  “Well, here we are. Nan’ll be happy to see you.”

  “I hate to think I’m imposing.”

  “You’re not. She’s not happy unless she’s feeding the masses.”

  As if on cue, possibly because he wasn’t already running up the steps, Nan stepped out onto the porch and gestured for Banks to come in.

  He turned to Norah. “I promise.”

  She nodded, pushing open the door and shouldering her backpack. An anxious whirl of butterflies took flight in her stomach, as if she was on the precipice of something here and she couldn’t quite figure it out.

  “You brought a straggler,” Nan said, with a smile in her voice. It made the corners of Norah’s lips tilt up. Ah yes, Nan Montgomery, a shelter in the storm for literally everybody in town at some point. She remembered now. Nan did, unofficially, the same kind of work Banks did. For the first time, Norah was grateful it was Three Rivers that Rob had pulled into and not some other small, fly on the wall town along the interstate.

  “And pie,” Banks said, hoisting a glass plate.

  When they got to the porch, Nan tipped her head back, her smile nearly splitting her face.

  “Is that you, Norah Clarke? Oh your Aunt Gloria must be so pleased.”

  She knew Gloria would be. Norah’s parents had never been close to the rest of their families, which made it easy to pick up and move around, and was probably why Norah wasn’t close to her family. She suspected Gloria had a hand in her family moving to Three Rivers to begin with, but Norah had been discouraged from reaching out to or even talking about Aunt Gloria after they’d left. She didn’t understand at the time, but she’d always been a people pleaser and she didn’t want to upset her daddy.

  “I haven’t seen her yet,” Norah admitted.

  “She’s fresh in town,” Banks supplied. “Looking for a place to stay, maybe. I know the apartment is empty, figured she could hole up there for a couple days?”

  “Oh of course,” Nan said, ushering the pair into the house. “Any kin of Gloria’s is mine, too.”

  “Anybody in Three Rivers is your kin, Nan,” Banks said with a laugh.

  “That’s not a lie,” the young man she’d seen in the window interjected. He was a big, rugged guy, just like Banks, and there was enough resemblance for Norah to guess this was Banks’ brother, Nate. “But the same can be said for Banks.”

  “Norah, this is my brother, Nate. Layla you met at the bar.” Banks began the round of introductions, ignoring his brother’s teasing.

  “Oh God, I’m so glad you made it here. I would have followed you right out when I realized he left but I couldn’t leave the bar,” Layla rushed, hoisting a big toddler up onto her hip. “This is our son, Mason.”

  As overwhelming as it might have been, Norah felt welcome. Sincerely. These were good people, kind people; the sort of people who you never truly believed actually existed until you happened upon them.

  “This is the girl you said got dumped at the bar?” Nate asked his wife. Layla nodded. “No surprise Banks swoops in to save the day.”

  “Typical Banks,” Layla said with a teasing shake of her head.

  “Yep, typical Banks.” Nate said. “The sheriff in shining armor.”

  “Hey, I’m just doing my job,” Banks said, laughing, but when Norah looked, he almost appeared to be blushing. This big, solid man, sheriff of an entire town—youngest sheriff the town had ever elected, he had told her proudly—blushing like a teenager. Norah’s existing smile grew until it nearly hurt. Not long ago, she’d wondered if she would ever smile again, and here these people barely had to try to get one out of her. She drew in a big breath and then let it out slowly, relaxing into the moment with this family she’d only known for a few hours but already loved.

  —THREE—

  “So he just left you here, just like that?” Nan asked, a frown marring her features.

  Norah nodded slowly, a fresh little wave of panic rising up in her when it was said out loud. They’d all but picked the bones of a big beef roast with all the fixings that Nan had prepared and were each working on a slice of apple pie with a cup of coffee. It was probably the best, most substantial meal Norah had had in months. Definitely the first one that didn’t come out of a box in the freezer in some time. She’d been feeling too bad most of the time to cook anything for a while now.

  “Yeah, I...I feel really stupid, actually,” she admitted.

  From across the table, Layla shook her head and made a disapproving sound. While they’d discussed most of the details of Rob’s aba
ndonment of her, Norah kept the secret growing inside of her, and was grateful that Layla did, too. The fact that she was expecting a child in 5 months only further complicated the entire situation. She felt robbed that her secret had been exposed unwillingly, in the middle of a public place, and thankful that the bar had been relatively empty. It wasn’t like she was going to have a big, cute social media reveal even if Rob hadn’t abandoned her, but it still felt like it should have been her secret to tell, not his, and not to a bunch of strangers. Layla’s silence on the matter was comforting.

  “Oh darling, don’t feel stupid. This is on him, not you. Now, don’t you worry about a thing. You’re family in Three Rivers and we’re gonna take care of you,” Nan said resolutely.

  “I appreciate this so much. I don’t want to impose. Please tell me if this is too much.”

  “Nonsense,” Nan said, waving her off. “That apartment was just waiting for someone like you. It’ll tide you over until you figure out your next step.”

  Her next step...Norah had tried, in the last hour, to consider just what that next step would be, but kept getting pulled out of her own thoughts by the generous hospitality and empathetic conversation the Montgomery family provided. Every now and again, Mason would say something funny and crack up the whole table. Norah only hoped there was something like this down the road for her, but God knew it wouldn’t be with her own parents.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Nan.”

  Though she’d confided her given name was Aida, Nan insisted upon being called Nan, even by those to whom she wasn’t actually a ‘nan’. She was an interesting and lively soul. Norah couldn’t have pegged her age accurately. She was thin and wiry, and, according to her grandsons, still extremely active in the community, in addition to maintaining an enormous flower garden just off the back porch steps. Resilient was the first word that came to Norah’s mind to describe her. She hoped she could borrow some of that backbone as she figured out how to navigate her next step.