by J. M. Madden
After dinner he went to his office to do some computer work. Cheyenne joined him there a few minutes later, sitting on the couch on the opposite wall. She folded her legs elegantly beneath her, then propped one elbow along the top of the couch, resting her head on her hand.
“Dinner was fantastic,” he told her. “Thank you. Real food is so much better than quickie stuff like we make.”
Cheyenne smiled at him. “Healthier, too.”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad Olivia came up.”
“Me too, actually. I think she enjoyed the dinner, and the company.”
“She’s not a bad girl.”
“I know,” Sheridan agreed. “She’s had it a little rough the past few years. My job has taken a lot of my time and attention.”
“Which is understandable,” Cheyenne said. “This isn’t a big county, but I’m sure you get a lot of work through here. You probably do a lot of things most people have no idea about.”
He tipped his head to her, agreeing, and he appreciated that she’d apparently thought about this. His job was difficult, but he loved having the power to make his community better.
Cheyenne’s eyelids were getting heavy, and he wondered if she realized how tired she was. Turning off his computer, he held a hand out. “You need to go to bed.”
“I know,” she sighed. “Thank you, Sheridan.”
The next day was Wednesday. Sheridan dropped Cheyenne and the girls off at school, then headed to work. Marlene met him with a scowl. “There are two messages on your desk.”
Uh oh.
The first was from Thomas Applegate, stating that Wade had arrived to work bright and early today. He was scheduled for the next eight hours, so if Sheridan wanted to talk to him he should be available. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to find a ride in, and didn’t remember the phone number.
That sounded like a crock to Sheridan. But Thomas was a little on the gullible side.
The next message was from Eric Groves, Wade’s parole officer. Sheridan pecked out the numbers on his phone.
“Groves.”
“Mr. Groves, this is Sheridan Lane.”
“Hey, Sheriff. I didn’t get your message until late yesterday, and I wanted to check on the paperwork before I called with details for you.”
“That’s fine.” Sheridan reached for a pen. “What can you tell me about his release? It’s been a pretty fucked up affair so far.”
“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine that the victim hadn’t been notified.”
“No one was. I was supposed to be called as well.”
“Ah, damn. Yeah, someone really bungled that, didn’t they?”
“It could have been devastating for the victim. And her daughters. I’ve moved her out of her house because I found signs of surveillance on her property. Someone was tromping around her house, looking in windows. Someone was also at a local bar, drinking soda, celebrating his release.”
“You think it was Shipton?”
“Timeline fits. Confirmed by a witness. Is there still a protection order attached to him?”
Sheridan heard papers ruffling on the other end of the line.
“It looks like it expired while he was incarcerated, so, technically, no. I think under the circumstances it would be easy to attach one onto it.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. He sent the victim a box yesterday, and flowers. Note inside was to his girls, who he gave up parental rights to in the divorce. Is there a school restriction on him?”
More shuffling. “Yes, there is a school restriction on him, but he doesn’t have to register as a sex offender because his charge was considered a marital rape.”
Sheridan cursed. “Okay. It was a delivery person that came yesterday.”
Groves heaved a sigh. “Sounds like he’s going to be a problem child, huh? Between not drinking at the bar and skirting the school, he’s going to walk every edge.”
“Yes. Just like he did before he went in. Victim wants nothing to do with him, but I have a feeling she’s going to have to tell him that in person, strongly, before he actually hears it. If he doesn’t we’ll be slapping that protection order back on him.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me give you my after hours number.”
He reeled off a line of numbers, as well as an email address.
“If you can, Sheriff, keep me posted on what goes on. I feel like it’s a matter of time before he gets arrested again. He still has three years on the original sentence left to serve if he isn’t careful.”
“Okay. I’ll definitely keep you up to date.”
Sheridan felt a lot better about where they stood now. As long as they had boundaries and Wade kept to them, things would be hunky dory.
He called the elementary school and asked Joy if he could talk to Cheyenne. Within a few seconds he was connected to her room.
Kids were laughing in the background, and Cheyenne’s voice echoed a little. “Okay, guys, read quietly while I’m on the phone. We’re going to talk about the story when I’m done. Okay, I’m here.”
Sheridan loved the sound of her voice, even if she did seem a little tense.
“Well, Wade showed up for work at the feed store, and he did check in with his parole officer.”
“Fudge,” she whispered. “I was kind of hoping for an easy way out of this.”
Sheridan sighed. “Well, the old protection order is dead. It expired while he was in prison. If you want a new one attached, I can go to the judge today. I don’t think Wade is going to get it through his head, though, until you actually talk to him in person. Call it a cop’s hunch. He considers you his property. And the girls.”
“I know. I get the same feeling. Like he’s telling me to be compliant, and if I don’t then he’s just going to roll in anyway.”
Something occurred to Sheridan, and option, and a little spurt of excitement went through him, but he tucked the thought away. He would need to cogitate on that when he could focus on it.
“Right now, you guys are safe. He has a school restriction. He can’t be within five hundred feet of the school grounds. Once you finish this week of school, you’ll be done, right?”
“Yes. I’ll have a few teacher days then we’ll be done till August twentieth, when the school year starts.”
“Okay. We can do this, Cheyenne. I think if we give him enough time he’s going to hang himself. He’s already walking the line. I told the parole officer about everything, and he’s very close to being in violation of his parole.”
She heaved a sigh on the other end of the line. “As long as you don’t mind us cluttering up your house for a while more.”
He barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? I love having you and the girls in my house.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “You know, I enjoy being there too. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for everything you’ve done, Sheridan.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I look at it as balancing the books. I didn’t serve you well last time, but I am this time.”
She laughed lightly. “Okay. I need to get going. Kids are going to riot soon.”
“Okay. Later, Cheyenne.”
Chapter 11
Cheyenne called Payton on her lunch break.
The other woman answered groggily and Cheyenne felt bad about interrupting her sleep. “Sorry, dear! I wouldn’t call unless it was important.”
“Give me a minute,” Payton rasped.
Cheyenne could tell she was moving around the room, then came the sound of her friend peeing.
Cheyenne couldn’t help but laugh. “If you drop the phone in the toilet you’re going to be mad at yourself.”
“My phone is on the counter, goober. That way I can wash my hands when I’m done.”
Cheyenne laughed, loving her friend for being so normal. She was curious to see what Payton said about her current situation.
“So what’s up?”
The acoustics changed behind Payton, then Cheyenne heard t
he coffee pot kick on. “Wanted to let you know I’m staying at Sheridan’s house. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with Brock, but just in case you rode over to my house, we won’t be there.”
“Wait, what?” Payton’s voice turned unnaturally sharp.
“Wade was released from prison, and they didn’t tell us about it. He’s been out for a few days now.”
Cheyenne covered the receiver of her cell phone, afraid that someone would here the foulness spewing from Payton’s inventive mouth. Mrs. Ironton, the fifth grade teacher, was also in the room but she could hardly hear the tornado siren. Cheyenne thought she was safe.
“Anyway,” she whispered, “Sheridan found where someone had been snooping around my windows, so he thought it best to move me into his house. He’s got an alarm system and stuff. And a guard dog.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “You are in the same house as Sheriff Sheridan Lane? The man you haven’t said more than ten words to in the past, uh, seven years?”
Cheyenne shifted uncomfortably, feeling ridiculous now that Payton had laid it out that way. “Yes.”
“And the girls are with you? In the same house as Sheriff Sheridan Lane.”
“Yes.”
Cheyenne could hear her slurp scalding coffee. “And how do you feel about that?”
Cheyenne sank back into her chair. “You know, I feel pretty good about it. It makes me mad that Wade is out. He seems to think he can just wipe away the past seven years and take up where he left off. He sent the girls a note and stuffed animals, but I didn’t tell them about it.”
“I wouldn’t have either,” Payton said quickly.
Cheyenne loved that they thought alike like that. “Sheridan has been amazing, quite honestly. He’s driving us to school and picking us up, and trying to get a jump on what Wade’s up to. Tracking down information. But in general he makes me feel … strong about the situation. We’ve been talking and I’ve realized I kind of held a grudge against him.”
“Why? He was the one that rescued you.”
Her throat tightened with tears, and she turned her face away so that Mrs. Ironton couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she whispered, “but he saw me at my most vulnerable. That was the worst moment of my life.”
Payton sighed at the other end of the line. “Oh, honey. You’ve been looking at it like that all this time?” Cheyenne could almost see her shaking her head. “I always looked at that night as the strongest of your life.”
Shock reeled through Cheyenne. “What?” she gasped.
“Cheyenne, I would smack you if I was close enough! For years you struggled to give those girls a steady life, in spite of the way Wade sabotaged everything you did. I remember you would make plans and he would deliberately go out drinking so that you didn’t have a ride. It didn’t matter if it was a kid’s birthday party or something else important. He’d just leave you and the girls. And as much as I love you, you would make excuses for him.”
“Yes,” she acknowledged.
She’d been hanging on to her marriage by a fingernail back then. Every little thing would set Wade off. She’d catered to him more than she ever had any of her girls.
And also, she’d lived in fear of what might happen if she didn’t.
“But that night,” Payton continued softly, “you finally said enough. Though you were hurt and in devastating, crippling pain, you made sure your girls were safe, right?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And you finally pressed charges. Though I know it was humiliating and painful, you had them do a rape kit at the hospital to gather evidence. You, and Sheridan, I might add, slammed him with everything possible to get his sorry ass put away for a long time. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Now,” Payton said finally. “Does that sound like the actions of a weak woman?”
Cheyenne didn’t know what to think. Her world was spinning, her head was spinning. Everything Payton said sounded so… logical. Had she really been that blind to what she’d done for herself that night by focusing entirely on what had been done to her?
With a start, she realized she was panting with fear or realization or excitement or something. She wasn’t even sure what.
“I know you, Cheyenne. You blame yourself for everything. And you can’t look at it like that. You saved yourself and the girls with what you did that night. How could that possibly be wrong?”
“See,” Cheyenne said softly after a long moment’s thought, “this is why I keep you around, and why my brother finally snatched you up.”
Payton laughed. “Yeah, finally,” she said with a huff. “Let me tell you one other thing, Cheyenne. Remember when I was all torn up about kissing Brock? And the talk you gave me?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Well, I’m going to give you the same kind of talk.”
“I don’t know if I can take any more.”
“Well, you’re going to.” She sighed, as if she had to impart bad news. “I know you’re a modest woman, you always have been, it’s your nature. And that night, Wade made sure to shatter that modesty because it was so important to you. He knew when he dragged you out there into the yard that there nothing he could do to you that would be more humiliating. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Sheridan arrived and do you know what the first thing he did was?”
“He covered me. I remember that.”
“I want you to remember that you’re a woman. It is completely natural to be affected by what happened to you, but when a good looking man like Sheridan Lane rolls into your life, and looks at you the way I’ve seen him do, you better take notice of that. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Cheyenne, people are sexual animals. We’re naughty by nature. I’ve realized over the past couple weeks that there is no such thing as too much sex. And because you’re my best friend in the world I can tell you that.”
Cheyenne laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah, but that’s my brother we’re talking about.”
“Oh, get over it. I’ve known you a long time. You have it in you to be a sexual woman. And if you’re going to be in close proximity with him in his house, I expect you to take him up on anything he offers you.”
The thought of Sheridan Lane doing more than just looking at her sent a thrill through her bones.
“And if he doesn’t offer, then he’s not as smart as I think he is. Hmm. maybe you should do the offering.”
Cheyenne laughed, as Payton had meant her to do. “I don’t know if I can do that, but I’ll try not to be so spooked.”
“Then that’s all I can ask for. I just want what’s best for you, Cheyenne, you know that. There’s a lot of love floating around Honeywell right now. It’s not unreasonable for you to grab a tiny part of it.”
Tears were blurring her vision. “Yes. I know. You’re amazing, Payton.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of love, we need to get on this wedding shower.”
“Well, sounds like you might have your hands full of Sheriff Lane right now. Why don’t you let me take over planning this week? Make me some notes and I’ll work on them.”
“Oh, that would be such a help. The venue needs a walk through. We only have a couple weeks to get everything ready.”
“I know,” Payton said calmly. “I can do your running around while you’re holed up. We’ll get it done.”
Cheyenne promised to send Payton notes about what needed checked on.
After she hung up, she just sat there for a moment, absorbing everything her best friend had said. Payton was pragmatic. She knew how to get things done. And she knew how to lay things out so that Cheyenne would come around to her way of thinking.
Cheyenne considered herself a smart woman, but Payton had shone a light on things from a totally different perspective.
Why hadn’t she talked to her sooner?
They settled into a schedule. Sheridan would take the Lowells to school, g
o do his work, then arrive back at the school to pick them up at three. He was lucky that his schedule allowed him to do that. Captain Patterson, one of his best friends, was just as able to run the department as well as Sheridan and understood the situation. He was more than happy to help Cheyenne out, whether she knew it or not.
With a little subtle surveillance, they’d confirmed what Wade was driving— the white, dark-windowed truck they’d seen the first day when they were leaving Cheyenne’s house, just as he’d suspected. Wade was staying with his parents on their farm and so far, hadn’t stepped out of line in anything. Even his license was up to date.
They were in a bit of a holding pattern, but he wouldn’t be good forever.
Sheridan didn’t mind the wait though. His house was more lived-in, warmer, louder and happier than it had ever been before. Some people would call it cluttered and too busy, but Cheyenne had a way of keeping everything organized that he hadn’t quite figured out yet. The girls were busy, but aware of other people. They were sweet. They kind of reminded him of Olivia before her mother died, open and curious about the world.
And it was a little flattering the way they reacted to him. He wouldn’t say that they were parched for male attention, but it kind of seemed that way. No matter where he was in the house, he usually had a shadow with him. Carolyn liked to talk about anything under the sun. Sheridan wondered if there wasn’t a boy she was interested in, because a few of her questions were a little pointed. ‘Sheriff, if you were in my grade do you think you would like this?’ and she pirouetted in a dark little skirt with a body-hugging shirt. Carolyn didn’t have much to show off yet in that department, but he felt like she was looking for some kind of approval. “I think you should wear what you’re comfortable in, not worry if some boy likes it. You’re the one wearing it.”
She’d made a face, her fine skin puckering between her eyes. Before he could respond, she’d leaned in and hugged him around the waist, making his heart swell.
Savannah challenged him. He was writing up a report at his desk one night when she wandered in to ask him about a problem in a puzzle book. It took Sheridan a few minutes to decipher what the problem needed. When he told Savannah, she gave him a distracted ‘oh’, then asked him about the report he was writing, which she’d been reading while he was distracted. Sheridan explained the situation and the actions he’d taken to cite the individual.