by Linda Turner
She tried to take comfort in that, but all she could think of was that he was leaving, going on with his life, and leaving her behind. And it hurt—nearly as much as Thomas's betrayal.
Guilt swamped her at the thought, and she knew she should have been thoroughly ashamed of herself. This was a different situation entirely from Thomas's betrayal. Nick's leaving had nothing to do with her. He'd been offered a wonderful opportunity, and instead of selfishly thinking about herself and how lonely she was going to be without him, she should have been happy for him. He was a good man and deserved all the best things that life had to offer. And she was happy for him, she told herself. If her heart broke at the thought of being left behind, that was her problem, not his, and something she would take with her to her grave.
Forcing a smile, she dropped down into the rocker closest to her on the porch. "So tell me everything. I see you listed the house with Tina. She must have been thrilled to get the listing. It'll be an easy sell."
"She seemed pretty confident we'd have a buyer by the end of the summer."
That soon? Hurt pierced her heart, but she remained determinedly enthusiastic. "That's great! You'll be out of here before you know it."
"A lot of things have to come together first. I've got to make some repairs—"
"I can help you with that in the evenings if you need an extra pair of hands," she offered. "I can come over right after work. It'll be fun. I'll bring supper…"
She chattered on as if it didn't bother her in the least that he was moving away, even going so far as to teasingly warn him not to forget his old friends when he got to Washington, and Nick could have cheerfully throttled her. Did he really mean so little to her? Frustrated, he almost asked her, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. And in the end, what difference did it make, anyway? Thomas was the one she loved, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And nothing he could say or do was going to change that. Some things just weren't meant to be.
Accepting that with a heavy heart, he forced a smile that never reached his eyes. "That sounds great. Think you can come over tomorrow night? Tina's going to place an ad in Friday's paper so she can start showing the house over the weekend, and I was wondering how I was going to get everything done by myself."
"Sure," she said. "But what's wrong with tonight? I've got nothing to do and a frozen pizza in the freezer. I'll go home and get it and we can work while it's cooking."
She was gone before he could stop her, driving away with a bright smile and a wave, and Nick couldn't help but think she was damn eager to get rid of him. Still, he knew he would never tell her that he didn't want her help. He might be a masochist where she was concerned, but whatever time he could have with her he was going to grab with both hands. Because this was all he was ever going to have of her when he left, memories of what might have been.
* * *
Laden down with brushes and drop cloths and a false enthusiasm that weighed heavy on her soul, Merry was back thirty minutes later and didn't know how she was going to get through the rest of the evening without breaking down. She'd fought tears all the way to her house and back, knowing that if she gave into them, even for a second, the floodgates would open and she'd cry her eyes out. And she couldn't do that, not in front of Nick. He'd never understand.
She really was happy for him, and if this was what he wanted, then she truly hoped everything worked out for him. When it came time for him to leave, she'd wish him well and kiss him goodbye, and he'd never know that inside, her heart was breaking because she was losing everyone she loved and there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it.
Her life was in chaos and she didn't even know how it had happened. One moment, she'd been getting dressed for her wedding, and the next, the man she loved was gone, taking with him the future she'd thought they would have together. And now, Nick, too, was leaving. He'd been her friend for so long, she couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been in her life. How was she going to live without him?
"Mer? You need some help with the ladder?" Nick asked suddenly from behind her. "Here, let me do that."
Lost in her misery when she should have been setting up the ladder so she could clean some mildew off the back porch eave, she snapped to attention and quickly hid her sorrow behind a bright smile. "No, that's okay. I can do it. I was just thinking about my house and the changes Thomas and I talked about making next year. Did we ever tell you about them?"
"Yeah. You were going to add a family room off the kitchen and another bathroom."
His tone was stiff, his expression shuttered, but she never noticed. Without even closing her eyes, she could see the home she and Thomas had planned to create together. "I should have done that when I rebuilt the house last year, but I never even thought about it."
"Why would you? You weren't thinking about getting married at that time. You were dating Bubba Smith, for God's sake!"
He sounded so disgusted, Merry had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He'd never understood why she wasted her time on Bubba. He'd always seen him as nothing but a lazy, good-for-nothing cowboy whose only ambition was to go drinking with his buddies on Saturday night and date the prettiest girl in the county. Merry couldn't argue with that—Bubba had never pretended to be anything but what he was—but he'd made her laugh at a time when she'd badly needed a diversion, and that was all she'd wanted from him.
Even if she'd wanted a more serious relationship then, there'd been no time for one. A stalker who was fixated with her movie-star-sister-in-law, Angel, had torched her house and clinic—not to mention her brother Joe's house—and all her energy had been focused on rebuilding and keeping her practice up and running. Then, just after she moved back into her house and reopened her clinic, Thomas came back to town and they fell in love all over again. Just that easily, Bubba was history.
"Bubba wasn't so bad," she said as she positioned the ladder under the eave, then grabbed the pail of soapy water she'd made and climbed up to where the mildew marred the wood. "All he wanted was a few laughs and someone to dance with. He wouldn't have looked twice at me if I hadn't been able to two-step."
"Yeah, right, Miss America," he snorted. "Tell me another one."
"Okay," she laughed, "so he has this thing about never going out with anyone who's uglier than he is, and he thinks he's a damn good-looking man—"
"Oh, he doesn't just think it, he knows it."
"Well, he is cute, Nick."
"And if he had a brain in his head, he'd be dangerous," he grumbled.
She couldn't argue with that. "True. He's never going to set the world on fire with his intellect, but he was shrewd enough to realize that he never stood a chance once Thomas came back to town. He saw us together at Ed's Diner the first night Thomas was back in town, and he never asked me out again. I think he realized right then it was a lost cause."
Nick had to give him credit. He didn't care for Bubba, but he'd been a hell of a lot sharper than he, himself. At least Smith had had the brains to get out before his heart was involved, which was more than Nick could say about himself. Like an idiot, he'd hung around for years, falling deeper and deeper in love while he waited for the day when Merry would finally wise up and realize she loved him instead of Thomas. But that wasn't ever going to happen. Somehow Thomas had brainwashed her, and even now, after he'd publicly humiliated her, she still got that dreamy look in her eye whenever she talked about him.
She loved the scumbag, and as much as it hurt Nick to admit it, once Thomas worked up the nerve to call her again, she wouldn't be able to hold on to her anger. All would be forgiven, and Thomas would come running back to her open arms. And when he did, Nick intended to be as far away as possible.
* * *
In spite of the For Sale sign in his front yard and his conversation with Merry, Nick still hoped to keep his plans private as long as possible. In a town the size of Liberty Hill, however, where everyone knew the true color of everyone else's hair and didn't mind tel
ling them, he was hoping for the impossible.
"Hey, Nick, what's this?" Gary Peyton, the postman, asked him two days later when he strolled into his office without knocking. "You expecting something from the FBI?"
In the process of filling out a report for the mayor on the county's latest crime statistics, he glanced up from the numbers he was scowling at and swallowed a groan at the official-looking letter Gary waved under his nose. Damn Howard! He'd expected him to send the application to his house, not the office.
Taking the letter and the rest of the mail, he sat back in his chair and gave the other man a chiding look. "You know I can't tell you that, Gary. It's official business."
"Well, hellfire, man, you know I won't tell anyone! I work for the government, too. So what's going on? Did you have them check out that compound those Yankees built out by Bear Falls? I swear they're running drugs out of there."
"Why do you say that? Have you seen something?"
"Well, no…"
"Because there aren't any drugs, Gary," he said quietly. "I know. I checked."
"Well, then, what's that?" he demanded, motioning to the letter Nick had slipped into his desk drawer. "What's the boys in Washington want with you? Oh, I get it," he said suddenly, his eyes widening as he put two and two together. "You've got your place up for sale, don't you? I saw the sign yesterday when I was out that way delivering an overnight package to Dolores Ivy from her son in California. I bet you're applying for a job, aren't you? I knew it! I always thought you belonged in the city, working with the big boys. So when are you leaving?"
Swearing, Nick could already hear the gossip, and that was the last thing he wanted. "Look, Gary, do you think we could keep this just between us? Nothing's definite yet, and until it is, I'd rather not talk about it. Okay?"
"Well, yeah, sure, man, if that's what you want. But people are going to know something's up when they hear you've put your house up for sale."
He had a point, one Nick had already thought of. "I'll just tell them I decided I wanted to buy something closer to town."
"My lips are sealed," Gary promised. "I won't tell a soul."
Nick wanted to believe that, but he knew Gary too well. His heart was in the right place, but he just couldn't resist spreading the news whenever he heard something interesting. And as one of Liberty Hill's handful of mailmen, he heard more than his fair share of interesting gossip. "Thanks, Gary. I appreciate you doing what you can."
"Sure. Anytime."
He was gone with a nod, hurrying out the door and heading, no doubt, straight to Ed's Diner, where he could share his news. Shaking his head, Nick went through the rest of the mail and was surprised to discover three responses to the ads he'd placed for deputies. And they'd come with the same delivery that brought him the application with the Bureau. He had to take that as a good omen. Settling back, he ripped open the letters from the job applicants and began to read.
* * *
When Nick stepped out of his office an hour later, things were finally looking up. He was taking charge of his life, and he felt good about it. He'd filled out the application for the Bureau and put it in the mail, then contacted two of the three job applicants who'd sent in résumés for the deputy positions. They'd both be in town on Friday for an interview, and he was keeping his fingers crossed that they'd work out. If they didn't, he'd start the process all over again until he found someone suitable to replace Dean and George. Between the new deputies and Harvey, the three of them could handle things until the mayor was able to find someone to take over the sheriff's duties. Because he was still leaving, Nick vowed, even if he didn't get the job with the Bureau.
He didn't fool himself into thinking it would be easy, however. Except for the years he'd gone away to college, he'd spent all of his life in Liberty Hill, and its citizens were, as much a part of his family as his blood relatives. He cared about them, their kids, and what was going on in their lives. He made a walk through the business district every day just so he could talk to people and see how they were doing. It was one of the favorite parts of his job, one that he knew he was going to miss.
Strolling into Ed's Diner, he wasn't surprised to see Myrtle Henderson and her gray-haired bunko club seated at the large booth in the corner. It was Monday, and they always met at Ed's for coffee and pie after a wild afternoon of bunko. Nodding, he greeted them with a grin. "Ladies. How are you all this afternoon?"
"Heartbroken," Myrtle answered for the group. "According to the latest scuttlebutt, you're quitting to go work for the FBI. Is that true?"
His smile never wavering, Nick wanted to track Gary down and give him a piece of his mind. So much for his promise to keep his mouth shut! "The FBI?" he said with just the right touch of startled appreciation. "C'mon, Myrtle, get real. I'm a small-town sheriff. What would the FBI want with me?"
Old enough to be his grandmother, Myrtle had been around the proverbial block far too many times to be taken in that easily. Giving him a reproving look over the top of her glasses, she chastised, "Don't think you can pull a fast one on me, Nicholas Kincaid! I know what you're up to and why. We all do. You're leaving town because of that girl—"
He stiffened like a porcupine. "I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Oh, yes, you do," she insisted, "and I say it's a darn shame! It's as plain as the nose on your face that you're nuts about her, and she can't see anything but that rat who left her high and dry at the altar. Instead of giving up and leaving town, why don't you grab her and kiss her? That'll wake her up!"
"Or send her flowers," Cheri Sutton suggested. "I remember when I was single, I just loved getting flowers from a man. It was so romantic."
Feeling heat climb into his face, Nick struggled for patience and told himself that they meant well. "You've got it all wrong. There's nothing going on between Merry and me—"
"Jewelry," Evelyn Fargate said flatly, interrupting him without batting an eye. A no-nonsense woman who didn't have a romantic bone in her body, Evelyn was a retired schoolteacher who had once been the terror of Liberty Hill High. "If you want to get a woman's attention, spend some real money on her so she'll know you're serious. Otherwise, you're just wasting her time."
The others in the club disagreed with that, and within seconds, they were all jumping into the discussion, sure that they each knew best how Nick could win Merry. Frustrated, he tried to tell them that they were barking up the wrong tree—he and Merry had never been anything but friends—but he might as well have saved his breath. They knew what they knew, and nothing he could say was going to change their minds.
How did they know? he wondered irritably. He didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, for heaven's sake! In fact, he'd always made sure he hid his feelings well. And still, everyone seemed to know, dammit! First Joe, now Myrtle and her entire bunko club! And if those chatterboxes knew, was there anyone in town who didn't?
Merry … dear God, had someone told her? he wondered with a groan. All this time when he'd thought she didn't have a clue how he felt, was she just being kind and pretending not to know to spare his feelings? Would she really do that to him?
The answer came to him immediately—he didn't even have to think about it. No. He knew Merry better than he knew himself, and she wasn't capable of that kind of deception. There was nothing they couldn't say to each other, and if she suspected that he loved her, she would have asked him about it long ago. No, she didn't know. Yet. And that was what worried him.
Unabashedly eavesdropping on the entire conversation from his position behind the counter that ran the length of the diner, Ed Randolph, the owner of the place, clicked his tongue in disapproval and motioned Nick over. "Don't pay those old hens any mind," he growled as he served him a cup of coffee and a slice of his famous chocolate pie without waiting for Nick to order it. "They don't mean any harm. They just want to see you and Merry happy, and it frustrates them that she can't see what's right in front of her nose. But they would never say anything to her, Nick. You've got
to know that. Your secret's safe with us."
Nick wanted to believe that, but it wasn't easy. As he continued on his rounds around town after finishing his pie and coffee, he would have sworn he could hear people whispering behind his back about why he was leaving. And everywhere he went, Merry's name seemed to follow him.
It was enough to give a normally easygoing man ulcers. Convinced she must have heard the gossip going around town about the two of them, he half expected her to confront him each night when she came over to his house to help him finish the last of the cosmetic touch-ups the realtor had recommended, but she'd been so busy with the rabies scare that she obviously hadn't, thankfully, heard anything. Still, he just wanted the interviews over with as quietly as possible so people would stop talking.
Unfortunately, it didn't happen that way. When Friday rolled around and the time he'd set up to meet with the two applicants approached, he couldn't help but notice that there were an inordinate amount of people hanging around the square on a Friday afternoon. Ranchers who usually didn't come into town except on Sundays for church stood in small groups in front of the shops on Main Street
talking to friends and shopkeepers like they didn't have a care in the world. And there, outside Ed's Diner and in full view of the courthouse, Myrtle and her friends had gathered to watch every car that came down the street toward Nick's office.
"Just like they were waiting for a damn parade to start," he grumbled to his dispatcher, Sheri Johnson, as he dropped the blind he'd been peeking through and turned to prowl restlessly around the office. "What the hell's wrong with everybody? You'd think they'd never seen a couple of strangers come into town before."
A kind soul but always one to speak her mind, Sheri never looked up from her typing. "They haven't. Not like these, anyway. Think about it. Two deputies and the sheriff are all leaving as soon as you're able to hire someone to replace Dean and George. Of course people are curious. Your replacement will have the power to make their lives—not to mention, mine—miserable if he's a hard-ass-by-the-book kind of guy, and you won't be here to protect them."