Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  “Get ya started with some coffee?” she asked, lifting the coffee carafe.

  Norah turned over the mug at her place setting and he followed suit. Rosie filled their mugs and then they were alone. Norah opened up the menu and he took a minute to observe her studious face, her brow furrowed as she focused on the offerings. She was pretty, with blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a short, curvy frame—if he had a type, she was it. It was some kind of miracle that the storm she’d found herself in had landed her here, and, at the prompting of the stirring in his chest, he wondered if maybe it was some kind of nudge from the universe.

  Banks himself didn’t always believe in it, but Nan talked about it. All the time. Divine intervention. The universe giving us nudges. Everything working out exactly the way it was supposed to, even after the painful bits. Ever the optimist, Nan had worked hard to instill the same beliefs on her grandsons. Banks thought about it from time to time when things like this came up, Nate had a bit harder time seeing it the same way.

  Finally, Norah lowered the menu. Banks hadn’t even bothered to open his—he knew the Hinkley’s menu almost by heart and he’d had everything at least a dozen times. His go-to, a club sandwich and turkey soup, was probably going to be the order today. At least Carter wasn’t here to give him a hard time about it. Habit bred efficiency. Too bad he couldn’t exercise that in his recordkeeping skills in the office.

  “What’s good?” Norah finally asked, setting her menu down. “Tell me what to order and I’ll get it.”

  “Hot hamburger and fries,” he said, without hesitation. He’d probably eat it every day if his body didn’t protest. It was better to keep his lunches lighter, especially when Nan fed him dinner more often than not. “It’s not an everyday lunch thing but it’s damn good. You won’t have a regret.”

  “Well good, I wouldn’t want to break my…” she stopped, looking at her watch. “Thirty six hour regret-free streak.”

  “Sounds like you fell into something good.”

  “Better than what I had, that’s for sure,” she said, pausing her thought when Rosie came back to the table to take their order, flitting away to put it in at the kitchen. “And I have your grandmother to thank for that. And you.”

  Banks shook his head. “We’d do the same for any resident of Three Rivers. Taking care of the people here is my job.”

  “I’m not exactly a resident.”

  “You are now.”

  She smiled, a pretty blush creeping up her cheeks. Her eyes cast down for just a second before she looked back up at him under her long, dark eyelashes, and he didn’t know why but it made his heart skip a beat. The man who’d abandoned her here was an idiot, that much was clear.

  *

  “I hate to go here,” Norah started, fiddling nervously with the empty creamer container in front of her. He had said it counted, and that she was a resident now. She hadn’t planned on coming here asking about money, but she was painfully aware of the fact that she only had a few crumpled bills left in her wallet after her splurge on the pencils and sketchpad, and she couldn’t wear the same two shirts to work every day. Not that they were even really appropriate “But I was wondering when my first paycheck would come in.”

  “Biweekly, yesterday was payday,” he replied, then shook his head. “Do you need an advance? I noticed you only had that backpack with you. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that already, you must need some things.”

  He shifted to pull his wallet out of his pocket and her mouth went dry. The last thing in the world she wanted was for him to think she was looking for handouts—she’d had some rough times growing up but never like this. She held her hand out to stop him when he started to leaf through bills in the worn leather billfold.

  “I didn’t mean for you to give me money personally.” Her heart pounded so loud she could hear it in her ears, her mouth dry with embarrassment.

  Banks’ gaze was soft when he met hers.

  “Hey…I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to. Besides, this is less complicated than expensing it to the county and garnishing it back out of your pays.”

  He laid down five $20 bills on the table between them.

  “Is this enough?”

  “Y-yes,” she stammered, her eyes wide. It was more cash than she’d had in her possession at once in a long time. She was acutely aware of the full diner. Did these people think the sheriff was paying her for something unsavory?

  Before she could let her thoughts get away from her, Banks pushed it further across the table toward her. His expression left no room for argument, so she meekly slid the bills off the table top and tucked them into her wallet.

  “You can get almost anything over at Baylor’s General, and there’s a thrift store around the corner with all kinds of clothes. But if you’re looking for more specific stuff, Nan or I can give you a ride into Johnston for shopping.”

  “I…I really appreciate this, Banks.” She felt flustered and overwhelmed, and then their food was in front of them. The dark gravy on the sandwich smelled so good her mouth watered almost instantly, and she didn’t have any more energy to focus on feeling embarrassed or overwhelmed about Banks giving her money, because her passenger was hungry. “Okay…this…”

  She gestured to the plate and Banks laughed.

  “Go ahead, tuck in.” He was already picking up his sandwich.

  He didn’t have to tell her twice.

  —TWELVE—

  Norah paused her sketching to shake out her hand. Her mind and her muse insisted she draw straight though, but she was out of practice so her fingers cramped up sooner than her brain let up. She’d find balance eventually, especially with the rate she was working at these days.

  She’d set aside the portrait of Banks and another face had come to her. Cherubic with round cheeks and a dimpled chin, it was a child. A little niggling at the back of her brain insisted it was her child, but she still wasn’t sure, as she went back to work on spirals of curls around the baby’s ears. While she acknowledged there was life inside her, it was still hard to think of it as a fully realized child, and she supposed that disconnect would change once that little nugget was earthside. Regardless of who it was, Norah felt peaceful and happy while she worked on it, so she let herself continue. The sun was still warm and the steps of Nan’s porch were comfortable enough. Every now and again, she got a waft of some early blooming flowers in the gorgeous garden Nan spent most of her days tending.

  Nan was inside working on dinner, now. Norah had offered her assistance but Nan had brushed her off and told her to get out from under foot, so she’d done that, escaping to the oasis of the back yard with her sketch book.

  “Careful Mase,” a voice came from the sliding door as the toddler shot past Norah and took the stairs quickly on his bum. She hadn’t even heard a car pull in, but Layla stepped out onto the porch, giving Norah a little wave as she supervised Mason’s descent into the yard, making a beeline for a little playhouse that Norah hadn’t even realized wasn’t just part of the glory of the garden. “Hey Norah. Mind if I sit?”

  Norah shook her head, shifting over to make space for Layla and her bump. “Not at all.”

  “Thanks,” Layla said, letting out a breath and sitting back. It made her pregnant belly that much more obvious. She craned her neck, obviously looking at the sketch book. Norah tipped it so Layla could get a better look. This was a portrait she didn’t mind people seeing—it wasn’t an intimate study in the curves of Banks Montgomery’s lips, so she was safe. “That is lovely.”

  It had been a long time since anyone had given Norah any kind of compliment, especially one about her art. She warmed, smiling, and felt a little blush rise up her neck.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re good. You been at that for a long time?”

  “I just started working on this one, but I’ve been drawing for years. Off and on. Out of high school, I thought I’d go to art school but that never ended up materializing.”

 
“That’s a shame,” Layla said, shaking her head, then shifting to look at Mason, who was shouting and waving. She waved back. “I wish I had a single creative bone in my body, but alas…”

  “Everyone is good at different things,” Norah insisted. “Like the way you picked up on things happening at your bar the other day and stepped in. Lots of people wouldn’t have even realized what was going on until he raised his voice, and lots more would have just looked the other way so as not to get involved. I don’t know if you understand how grateful I am. Every minute since you locked him out of the bar, I’ve felt lighter and happier than I have in a long time. I have you to thank for that. So who cares if you can only draw stick people?”

  Layla smiled, reaching across the space between them, and squeezed Norah’s hand. Even though they’d only known one another for a short time, she felt at ease and comfortable with the girl. Everybody in Three Rivers was welcoming and kind, but she felt a kindred connection with Layla. It might have sprung from the fact that she’d rescued Norah from something much worse, or they might just have been the same sort of person. Either way, Norah didn’t think she’d ever had as many people on her team as she’d already acquired since she came to Three Rivers.

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Layla said.

  “It’s true.”

  The sweet moment ended as Nan stepped out onto the porch, announcing that dinner was ready.

  “That’s the second best,” Layla teased as they stood and she collected Mason, ushering him into the house. Inside, Nate had set the table for the five of them, and a big meatloaf sat in the middle of the table, next to a bowl of mashed potatoes, and another of green beans. Norah’s stomach growled, and she wasn’t long finding her seat.

  One thing she’d found to be true through every meal with Nan was that this was a family table. Everybody had a spot, and when more bodies were present, everyone just huddled in, rubbing elbows happily, passing food across the table, and carrying on conversation. Even though she wasn’t family, she sure felt like it when she was included in that kind of personal, intimate setting.

  The conversation meandered, from Mason’s latest hilarious behavior, to Nate’s work at the rodeo school he taught at with a few of his friends, to Layla’s latest ultrasound (they were expecting a girl) and finally, to Norah’s first days at the sheriff’s office.

  “I raise my glass to you,” Nate said, laughing as he did so. “I’d never want to work for my brother and bless you if you can.”

  “Now Nate, you know your brother is just…particular,” Nan interjected.

  “Bull headed,” Nate supplied. “Unyielding. Everything is black and white.”

  “That would be why he’s good at the job,” Layla replied.

  And then all of their eyes landed on Norah.

  “So far, he’s better than any boss I’ve ever had,” she started. Truth be told, she hadn’t had that many. Any boss she’d ever had at a fast food joint, which made up the majority of her work experience, all fit into almost exactly the same profile. Middle aged. Greasy. Handsy. Unfair. And inevitably the reason she left the job in the end. So yeah, Banks was a pretty damn big step above that. “He’s fair. And decisive.”

  And he hadn’t made a pass at her yet, even though her heart raced any time he got close enough for her to smell his aftershave. And he was kind, with a smile that went clear to his eyes, creasing them at the corners. Patient with her in places where she wasn’t sure what she was doing, and respectful when he asked for her input on how to best run the office. But she didn’t need his family to know how much all of that meant to her, or that he’d given her a personal loan to make sure she had everything she needed to be able to come to work unburdened by her financial situation.

  “You’re being kind,” Nate insisted, bringing a chuckle out of Norah. She’d never been accused of that one, for sure. “Speaking of Banks, where is he tonight? He usually doesn’t miss an opportunity for meatloaf.”

  Nan got up from the table, fetching a plate to put a generous hunk of meatloaf and a big spoonful of potatoes on.

  “He thinks Dixie’s gonna foal tonight, so he’s home.”

  The terminology was foreign to Norah but she was pretty sure it was about a horse.

  “Gotcha. That horse is gonna be the death of him,” Nate replied.

  “Or at least the reason he sleeps in the barn for the next week,” Nan laughed, covering the plate with a sheet of tin foil. “Norah, dear, would you take my car and run this out to him tonight? If I don’t feed him, he probably won’t eat. He’ll be sitting in that barn all night. Mares almost never do what you’re going to expect them to, especially when it comes to giving birth.”

  “True that,” Nate quipped. “Just like women.”

  Layla swatted him and Norah laughed.

  “Of course I will.”

  Her belly fluttered a bit as she thought of going to Banks’ home. Not like she had anything important to do if she stayed here this evening, anyways, besides help Nan wash up. Even though she’d see him at the office in the morning, any opportunity to indulge her little crush wasn’t going to be refused.

  —THIRTEEN—

  Norah knocked on Bank’s front door and waited. Crash milled around her feet, pushing his nose against her thigh to be petted. Nan’s directions had been clear as day but she’d been anxious until she saw the familiar dog in the yard and knew she was in the right place.

  “Where’s your dad, boy?” she asked, shifting the foil-covered plate she brought into the other hand so she could rub the soft spot between Crash’s ears. Nan had called after dinner to make sure he was home so she could drop off dinner for him—he’d worked a long day—Norah knew because she’d been there when he’d been called out for a domestic dispute at nearly quitting time and told her this was normal. He’d be gone for a few hours at least, and she should head home for the day. She stood on her tiptoes to look in the window but saw nobody coming. Both his cruiser and his pickup were parked in the driveway so he was definitely here somewhere.

  She wasn’t real thrilled about poking around his property uninvited, and thought briefly about leaving the plate on the porch, but she’d learned quickly that the one thing Crash loved almost as much as being petted between his ears was food. The meatloaf would never make it to Banks’ stomach. Turning, she saw a light on in the barn. She balanced the foil-covered plate of food on the deck railing and stepped down, Crash hot on her heels. Once to the barn, she paused, though Crash went on in. She’d never been in Banks’ house or his barn—the door was open on the latter, but it still felt too personal and private to just stroll in, uninvited.

  “Hello?” she called out.

  From inside, Banks responded.

  “Hey Norah, come on in.”

  Nan had told him she’d be coming, but it didn’t stop the little thrill she got from him recognizing her voice.

  She stepped inside, the smell of hay and leather overtaking her. She inhaled—she had no experience or knowledge about horses apart from what Banks casually said in the office, but she instantly felt a sense of peace. A big, black horse observed her quietly from across the hall, its soulful eyes following her movements while it chewed on a mouthful of hay.

  “Hello beautiful,” she breathed, approaching the stall. The horse lifted its head to watch her more intently, its shapely ears flicking to the side and forward as she crept up to the bars to get a closer look.

  “Well I know I’m handsome, but…” Banks said at her elbow, making the hair on her arms stand up. She hadn’t heard him and now he was standing so close she could barely think straight. She stepped back, putting a little distance between them, then smiled up at him, feeling the warm rise of a blush creeping up her neck. He was wearing jeans and a plaid button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Dusty boots and ball cap completed the look—like something off the front of a country music album. A real life cowboy. It made her a little lightheaded. Who knew she had a thing for cowboys?
>
  “Haven’t you had enough work for one day?” she asked.

  “Horses don’t feed themselves,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You wanna see something?”

  All this time, she’d felt like Banks was being nice because he had no other choice, but there was a spark of genuine excitement in his eyes that made her agree. He tipped his head, gesturing for her for her to follow him down the concrete aisle of the barn. It was lined by spacious stalls and intelligent equine gazes that watched as they went to the other end of the barn. The stall Banks stopped at was twice as big as all the others and at first glance, there wasn’t a horse inside.

  He lifted his finger to his lips to ‘shh’ her and nodded for her to step forward and look through the window bars into the stall. Inside, a big brown horse lay stretched out on a deep bed of straw, her side heaving. Her tail was flagged up and a bubble of liquid protruded from underneath. Norah glanced back to Banks who nodded reassuringly. Surely he hadn’t brought her here to see a dying horse.

  “This is Dixie and she’s about to have her baby.”

  Some deep maternal empathy squeezed Norah’s heart as she looked back at the horse, an obvious contraction pulsing through her body. While she’d been reading a lot about pregnancy, she’d only been brave enough to read the tiniest amount about labor and delivery. Enough to know she wanted every drug they offered. She knew nothing about horse labor and delivery. She’d never seen anything give birth.

  “Do they give epidurals for horses?”

  Banks shook his head, chuckling.

  “No, but I do have the vet on standby.” He breathed out, and she felt a frisson of anxiety roll off him that he’d done well to mask to this point.

  “Do you have to help her?”

  He shook his head and tucked his hands in his pockets, taking a step back as if to convince himself.

  “Not normally, but she had some trouble last year so I’m just here in case she needs a hand. Look, there, do you see the feet?”