Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  “Don’t even mention it,” Nan said.

  *

  Sometime later, Nan stood up from the table. Everyone was sufficiently stuffed and looked it, too, leaning back in their chairs. Mason had scampered away from the table to a corner of the kitchen where a small wooden play kitchen was stocked with pots and pans and wooden food and was recreating the preparation of the meal they’d just consumed.

  “Why don’t I take you down and get you settled in?”

  Norah gestured to the table, still full of dirty dishes and serving trays.

  “Let me help get this looked after before we do that.”

  Nan shook her head.

  “No, you’ve had a long day and the dishes can wait.”

  “They won’t, though,” Layla chimed in. “Banks, you’re drying and I’m washing this week.”

  “Fair enough,” Banks said beside her, pushing his chair back from the table.

  It might have been that long day, or the hormones, or it could have been the weight of everything finally pressing down on her, but Norah felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyelids and willed herself not to let them go.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice thick.

  “Follow me,” Nan said.

  The apartment had a separate entrance, Norah discovered, as Nan led her out the back porch door and out the garden gate to a brick patio with a set of French doors around the back of the house. She unlocked the apartment door and handed the key to Norah.

  “Nobody usually locks their doors around here, but just in case you want to.”

  Nan pushed the door open and let Norah step in past her. The apartment was brighter than she would have expected for a basement. Big windows let in a lot of light. Definitely not what Norah thought of when she pictured a basement apartment, especially in a big old farm house like Nan’s, but someone had clearly gone to some effort to make it welcoming. The furniture was simple but clean and looked comfy, with lots of space for the occupant to put their own personal flair into it. Norah looked around, rolled her shoulders and drew in a big breath that felt—for the first time in a while—filled with positivity. Nan bustled in past her leaving a stack of clean bed linens and towels on the small island that separated the kitchen from the living room and put a mason jar of coffee cream she’d brought from upstairs in the fridge.

  “I’m afraid since I wasn’t expecting you, I didn’t have time to get anything for the fridge, but there’s cream, sugar, and coffee.” She pointed to the coffee maker. “I’ll leave you be tonight but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to come knocking. I’ve got to head into town in the morning and I can take you along, if you like. Or I’ll leave you be, if that’s what you prefer.”

  She paused and met Norah’s gaze with a meaningful weight. “You call the shots here.”

  All the immediate stress Norah had been holding released. Sure, she still had to worry about the days to come, but right now she had a roof over her head and a place to stay for the night. Her belly was full, and that counted for a lot. She’d been abandoned but she wasn’t going to suffer. She felt like she had the space and time available to her to make the decisions she’d need to make for the days to come a lot easier than if she’d been holed up on a park bench in the middle of town, hoping nobody realized she was homeless.

  Homeless. How quickly that had happened. They’d never been terribly secure but they’d always managed to scrape up rent.

  “I’ll go to town with you,” Norah said. “But you are going way above and beyond here, Nan. I can’t...”

  Emotions choked out Norah’s words. Nan crossed the floor and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Listen,” Nan said, her loud whisper urgent. “I want to do this. You don’t deserve what happened to you today. Let us help you and take care of you for as long as you need.”

  It might have been the hormones or the shock of the situation finally wearing off, but Norah finally released the tears she’d been shoving back all afternoon, her eyes filling so she could barely make out anything but the shape of her savior through the blur. Nan seized her just as urgently, wrapping her in a hug so tight it squeezed the air out of Norah’s lungs.

  Maybe things would turn out all right after all.

  —FOUR—

  “I don’t remember her at all,” Nate confessed. “But then, noticing and remembering things has always been your strong point.”

  Banks shrugged, wiping one of Nan’s tattered dish towels across the pan Layla had just handed him. Nate was clearing the table.

  “I also wasn’t desperate to get out of Three Rivers the minute I got my driver’s license,” he teased his brother.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Nate grumbled. For all the good it had done him—he’d ended up back here, and happy. His hand had initially been forced when he had a bad bull riding accident and lost everything he built in Denver. He’d once confessed to Banks after he came home and settled down with Layla that his life had become complete in Three Rivers in a way it never could have in Denver.

  He was happy for his brother—he loved his nephew, and the new one on the way, already—but while he’d be a lifelong resident of Three Rivers, Banks’ picture here didn’t look the same. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  “I’m glad they pulled in to Three Rivers,” Layla said. “Who knows what could have happened to her if that had happened in a different town? It’s a little bit of fate I think, that her boyfriend pulled off somewhere she had kin.”

  “Or a Nan, at the very least,” Nate chimed in.

  “Her parents took off out of here pretty quick. Nobody really knew they were moving, and then they had,” Banks supplied, putting the pan into the cupboard where it belonged. His own parents had pulled that same act when Banks and Nate were just toddlers—only they hadn’t cared enough to take their kids with them. Like Norah, Banks and Nate had been lucky their town had kin—and a Nan. While she was ‘Nan’ to many in Three Rivers, she was their actual grandmother. Banks didn’t know much about his parents, but he still couldn’t figure out how someone who loved people as freely and fiercely as Nan did had a son that felt okay with abandoning his children in search of greener grass. Not only had they left, leaving Nan in complete care of their children, Banks and Nate never heard from them again, not even a card on their birthdays or at Christmas. Yet, they never felt like they were lacking anything, Nan made sure of it.

  And so Banks had thrown himself into caring about the people of Three Rivers who had ended up raising the Montgomery boys. They were the people who deserved his care and affection. As a boy, he’d occasionally wished his parents had taken him with them—so he could know them, at the very least. It seemed Norah had gotten what he’d wanted, and still she ended up here in Three Rivers. It was funny how that worked.

  The screen door off the kitchen fell shut behind Nan as she reentered the house.

  “That girl has a lot on her mind,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. “It’s a good thing you picked her up, Banks.”

  “Oh yeah? She say anything?” he asked. He wanted to help and the more he knew, the better he’d be able to do that.

  Nan shook her head. Of course she hadn’t. Nan just had a way of picking up on things, often things you didn’t really care for Nan to know. But she always used her knowledge for good—to solve problems, or lend a hand, or sometimes just to show up with fresh chicken noodle soup and a box of tissues when you needed it the most. It’d been half the reason Banks brought Norah here. Whatever was going on wasn’t any bigger than Nan could handle, and she’d know exactly what to do. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d consulted her on law enforcement matters.

  “She’ll say whatever she has to say in her own time, if she wants to, I’m sure,” Nan said, pouring another cup of coffee. “But I’m going to encourage her to stay here for a while. If she’s not immediately talking about heading home to her parents, and that…man…she was with laid hands on her, I’m betting she doesn’t have anywhere
to go, so here is as good a place as any. And she can stay as long as she needs if it means she’s not going to be with someone who hurts her, or doesn’t care about her.”

  Layla nodded, swinging Mason off of the floor in his play area in the corner of the kitchen and up onto her hip.

  “She was definitely scared. I only regret I didn’t catch what was going on sooner…” Layla paused, then nodded decisively. “And that I didn’t get to use my bat.”

  Banks chuckled, sizing up his sister-in-law. Under his nephew’s leg, Banks could see evidence of the sibling she was cooking. She was tough as nails, this woman, and he was happy to call her family; she was just what Nate needed to keep him in line. She’d done the whole pregnancy and childbirth with Mason by herself—with a little help from Nan—before Nate had even known he was a father. He was thrilled that Nate had a chance to do it right this time—be here for the whole journey instead of stepping into it 2 years later, and happy Layla got to experience it with the support she deserved.

  Banks wasn’t sure fatherhood was ever in his cards—or a wife, even—with the way he kept himself busy enough. Between the horses and the town and keeping up with Nan, he couldn’t figure where he’d find time for a real romance. Sure, he’d had a little fling or two, but he had to be careful, and he usually left town to do it. He was a man, after all, with needs, but he couldn’t afford to leave any fallout in the town he took care of.

  “You still haven’t had a chance to wallop anybody with that bat?” Banks asked. From the corner of his eye, he could see Nate shaking his head quickly.

  “No, but I’m about ready to lay Dell Ray out with it!” she said, with a little more fire than he anticipated. “Okay, maybe it’s hormones; he’s just being normal Dell.”

  Banks couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of him. When you had family like this, it was hard to imagine there was anything missing.

  —FIVE—

  When Banks finally pried himself away from his family’s company, he should have just gone straight to his cruiser. Instead, he hung left, and took the little cobblestone walk around the corner of the house he’d grown up in. Through the French doors leading out to the little walk-out patio space, he could see there were still lights on in the apartment.

  He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, and he should have just gone home—Crash would be anxious for his return—but he wanted to check on Norah. Truth be told, even before he knew she was still in town, she’d been on his mind…the asshole she’d come in with, the despondent look on her face. He had memories of her in jean short overalls with skinned knees, her blonde hair in two thin braids, but they barely reconciled with the young woman she was now. He’d seen her in her worst circumstance, and yet, underneath the surface, there was an unyielding strength. She might not even have known and he probably couldn’t put it in words, but he couldn’t leave without telling her about his admiration. She’d been so at ease at Nan’s dinner table, like she belonged there, as though she hadn’t just been traumatically abandoned.

  Banks paused just a beat before he lifted his hand and rapped on the glass doors. The apartment didn’t have a doorbell, or any curtains on the French doors since they were on the back side of the house, so inside, he could see her moving around, peeking in cupboards. Nan would have set her up with coffee, at the very least, but that was the last thing he imagined she’d need.

  She looked stricken when he knocked, like he’d scared her. Nan had left the outdoor light on, so he took off his cowboy hat and lifted his hand in greeting, showing his face. She had changed into shorts and a big, oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder, and she’d showered—her hair was still wet, and braided, down either side of her head, like the memory he’d summoned of her. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her shapely legs, or the little smile that crossed her lips when she opened the door for him.

  “Banks,” she said, that smile following through her voice.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Norah. I just wanted to check in.”

  “Oh, I’m not bothered,” she said, stepping back and gesturing. “Would you like to come in?”

  He should have gone home by now, yes, but here he was, stepping over the threshold of the doorway with his hat in his hands anyway. He told himself he was just doing the sheriff’s duty, being neighborly, but he was lying to himself, at least a little. She was a distraction, and distractions were dangerous, but he couldn’t help himself from indulging.

  “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I know my family can be overwhelming. This day had to have been more than you expected starting out.”

  She shook her head and moved to let him into the apartment. “Everything’s fine. Better than I expected it would be a few hours ago. I think I’m probably just still in shock, if I’m being honest.”

  He saw her shift, crossing one arm across her body and closing it around the upper part of the opposite arm, only to move again, her expression twitching barely perceptibly, as she took her hand away from the big blossoming bruise. It was pretty significant. Domestic offenses like this were probably one of the most common parts of his job, and while he was empathetic, his blood didn’t usually boil like this when he dealt with victims.

  He nodded, finally drawing his eyes away from the bruise with some effort, to meet her gaze.

  “That’s understandable. A lot happened; you probably had a very different vision of today than what you’re looking at right now. And I know you probably would like to rest, but I just wanted to stop by to tell you that if you need anything, you can call me.” He pulled one of his business cards from his pocket and held it out for her. When she reached across the space between them, her fingers brushed his, just for a second, and he felt a little frisson of energy in that empty space.

  “Thank you,” she said, without pulling the card away immediately, and they stood there with that little bit of current tingling between them for just a second, before she pulled back and flipped the card over to look at it.

  “The cell number is my personal cell—I have it on all the time. They told me I could have a ‘business phone’ when I took the appointment to Sheriff, but the same people would just call twice,” he said with a chuckle.

  “The people around here are something else, aren’t they?”

  “They definitely are. Good people, though. With good hearts.”

  “I can tell as much, based on your family alone.”

  “Yeah, well they’re extra special. Don’t take no for an answer when it comes to taking care of people.”

  “I’m grateful for that,” she said with meaning. She let the words hang between them for a moment. “Today I learned that people who are supposed to care about you can be horrible, and those who don’t know you at all can be kinder than that. So if I take nothing else away from today, there’s that. And a full belly. And a temporary roof over my head.”

  He laughed as she let a yawn escape that nearly swallowed her whole face, covering her mouth at the last minute.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry for keeping you. I just wanted to check in and make sure you weren’t feeling totally overwhelmed by Nan and her mothering instinct.”

  Banks moved toward the door. Norah followed him and they paused. He wasn’t quite ready to go, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

  “It’s overwhelming, but so is everything.”

  “It’ll come easier,” he reassured her, putting his hat on his head and screwing it down like he was going out into a rodeo. “But in the meantime, if you need help with anything—up to and including wrangling Nan if she gets to be too much, you just let me know.”

  He stepped out over the door frame.

  “Banks…”

  He couldn’t have turned around faster if he’d tried, and if she asked him to come back in, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.

  She was smiling. It was a beautiful thing.

  “Thank you for stopping by.”

  —SIX�
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  Norah woke as a big swath of sunshine made its path across her bed covers. She stretched and blinked, rolling onto her back and tucking her hands under her head, trying to remind herself where she was when she didn’t immediately recognize the room. Despite the good night’s rest she’d gotten, the previous day’s events came back to her in a rush.

  Oh that’s right.

  She should have been on a sofa bed in Rob’s cousin’s Salt Lake City apartment, preparing for their next chapter in a ‘better life’, but by some strange twist of fate, she was here, in Three Rivers, where she’d spent a chunk of her childhood. It softened the blow of being abandoned only marginally to know there were a few people here who cared about her. More than she could say would have been waiting in Salt Lake, anyways.

  As she considered her predicament, she drew one hand from behind her head, sliding it over the changes her body was already showing, until it landed, palm down, just below her belly button. Her tiny jellybean seemed to flutter in response to its mother’s touch and it brought a smile to Norah’s face.

  So this wasn’t ideal. But it was a lot more ideal than barreling down the highway next to a man who believed she had ruined his life, ending up in a city where she had no family, no job, and relied on a man who wasn’t afraid to lay hands on her in public. She didn’t have much more here, except perhaps safety, and she had never appreciated that as much as she did now that she was responsible for another life.

  It was a funny thing to suddenly feel the weight of responsibility for someone else. She’d spent the last ten years just trying to keep herself out of harm’s way and this new development added another whole layer to it all. A layer she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for.

  She sat up, stretched carefully, feeling all the muscles of her body. Her copy of What To Expect had told her about this bit. Her body was stretching and growing in all kinds of ways. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the finger shaped bruises on her upper arm and frowned. Even if he was hundreds of miles from here, now she was still thinking about Rob and that wouldn’t do. If he was going to be out of sight, she owed it to herself to put him out of mind, too.