Daisy’s head dropped immediately. She began fidgeting with something along the far side of the duty belt wrapped around her waist.
Stephanie scoffed. “I get that some men are attracted to the whole chick in a uniform thing, but I just don’t understand what my ex-husband ever saw in her. I mean, seriously. Look at her. She obviously eats a lot of carbs.”
Bunker didn’t agree. Daisy was in excellent shape, though not as ultra-thin and voluptuous as Stephanie. The two women were polar opposites in every respect, but he didn’t want to get in the middle of their apparent history.
He decided to redirect the focus of the conversation. “The Mayor asked me to help retrieve some items from a homestead outside town,” Bunker said before locking eyes with Jeffrey. “So it looks like you’ll need to watch my pack a little while longer. Can you do that for me, sport?”
“Uh-huh. It’s really not that heavy,” Jeffrey said, pulling the straps up and over his shoulder. The kid grunted as he lifted it off the grass. “See, I can carry it.”
Stephanie worked the wraps free from her son and put the bag on the ground with a thud. The fire in her eyes was apparent when she looked up at Bunker. “Asked you to help? Why? He barely knows you. Why can’t someone else do it? Why does it have to be you?”
Bunker shrugged. “Apparently he trusts me, thanks in part to you putting in a good word for me.”
“I doubt my recommendation had anything to do with it. It’s more like he trusts you because you brought the kids back safe and sound. Like the Pied Piper, except without the flute.”
When Bunker’s mind conjured up a vision of the legendary character wearing his long robe and floppy hat, he couldn’t hold back a short chuckle. “He wants me to evaluate some of the items we need. Tactically speaking.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell him about your past.”
“You know I’d never do that. I just helped them decode the transmission and then we tossed around some ideas.”
“What did it say, exactly? The transmission, I mean.”
He hesitated, wondering if he should release the information. The Mayor didn’t deem the Morse code signal or their discussions classified, so he figured it was safe to tell her. Some of it, at least. Not all. He was pressed for time and Stephanie was already on edge, so he decided to keep some of the aspects a secret. He didn’t need her causing a scene.
“It contained a series of GPS coordinates that correspond to cities across the US. It’s possible Clearwater wasn’t the only town affected by what happened today.”
She stood there, silent, with her eyes blinking.
He’d expected her to connect the dots about what the GPS coordinates meant, so when she didn’t react, he decided to continue. “The Mayor’s planning to send out teams to see what’s going on out there and report back. We need more information.”
“Are you part of those teams?”
“I haven’t decided. Right now, I’m gonna go do a little recon and see if I can score some items to help the Sheriff and his staff.”
Stephanie leaned to the side again, sending a nasty look across the square. “You and Daisy? Together? That’s why she’s waiting for you, right?”
“Yes. The Sheriff doesn’t want her to go alone.”
“I thought you said the Mayor was sending you out there, not the Sheriff.”
“He is. Both of them are. Like I said, we tossed around some ideas after I decoded the radio signal. I’m to go with her and see if we can locate some communication gear that works. If we’re successful, it’ll help the scout teams report back on what they learn out there. Communications are going to be key moving forward.”
She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. “Whose place are you going to?”
“A guy by the name of Frank Tuttle.”
“That nut job? What could he possibly have?”
“Apparently, he’s been stocking up for the end of the world. Daisy went out there earlier and got a look at some of his inventory. We think there’s a lot more we can use.”
Stephanie pointed at the front door to the clinic. “What about Megan? She should be getting released soon. Don’t you want to see how she’s doing?”
“Yeah, of course I do. But I need to go do this. It’s in everyone’s best interest, including you and Jeffrey.”
“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“Look, I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll come find you and Jeffrey. Just let the Sheriff’s office know where you are.”
She folded her arms and stood with more weight on one leg than the other. He couldn’t tell if she was pissed or finally coming around to his way of thinking. Either way, he needed to get moving.
He put his hand on Jeffrey’s head. “When I return, I wanna hear all about how you did with those cute little redheads.”
Jeffrey’s face turned a deep shade of red, then he grinned. “Okay. But hurry back.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Stephanie King bent down and gave her son a tight hug as they watched their new friend and local hero, Jack Francis Bunker, head off with the meddling female deputy—the same brunette who always seemed to be around when something went wrong in her life.
Everyone has an albatross in their life, yanking them back a few steps just when they think they’re making progress. Some call it bad luck or a dark moon rising. Others call it their inner demon.
But Stephanie’s cross to bear was an unstoppable force who went by the name of Daisy Clark—a natural beauty whose life seemed to run on autopilot.
People like Daisy seemed to breeze through life with a perpetual smile on their lips, as fortune always found them around the next corner. Others struggled just to make it through another day, trying not to grab a machine gun and take out their frustrations on the rest of the planet.
Stephanie knew the casting of those two roles all too well, always feeling like the understudy.
Even so, the sweet young boy who was wrapped in her arms made the torment of life worth it. When he giggled like little boys do, it melted her heart and she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Her son was the one advantage she had over her nemesis, even if Jeffrey was tethered to a 6’ 4” pile of curly blond baggage who went by the name of William H. King. Her ex. The town man-whore. Another one of those people who found success and happiness with everything he touched—just not with her, apparently.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mr. Bunker said he’s coming back,” she told Jeffrey as her mind played out a dozen scenarios of how the next few weeks would unfold.
Her precious little boy’s silence was deafening and ripping at the petals of her heart. She knew exactly what Jeffrey was thinking and feeling about Bunker at the moment, because she was thinking and feeling it, too.
Their stressful day together had been filled with a series of heart-pounding moments, each strengthening an invisible bond between the three of them. She couldn’t explain how it got there or why it existed, but it was there nonetheless.
She’d read somewhere that tragedy can bring people together and do so in ways nobody could’ve predicted. She never believed in that kind of fantasy before, but today’s events were proof that it did happen. Even though she knew nothing about the troubled, mysterious man, his soul had touched hers. And her son’s.
Her friends from high school would have called her naive or totally nuts for trusting some guy she just met on a train. But somehow she knew that she could, even without a shred of proof. Sure, it was strange, twisted logic but sometimes you can truly know a person before you really know anything about them.
Today’s events had taught her a new, important lesson: how people handle themselves in an emergency reveals who they really are, even without knowing any of the facts from their past.
Her mother had always told her that your past makes you who you are. Up until today, she always accepted that adage. But now, she didn’t think that old saying was entirely correct. She had a new
way of looking at it.
Your past herds you along its own path, pushing you toward the person you truly want to be, whether you’re ready for it or not.
The draw to Bunker was there and she couldn’t deny it, even though she wasn’t looking for any of it. Just yesterday, she swore to give up men entirely and vowed to never get involved again.
The pain she’d endured was just too much to ever trust another man. Her heart had been broken into a million pieces and she didn’t think she’d ever feel normal again. Or feel anything other than hatred for those who peed standing up. But then Bunker came along.
Some of her girlfriends gauged the value of their lives by the men they were with, like it was some kind of contest. Some even judged their success as women by the mere fact that they had a man in their bed—any man—vowing to never be alone at any cost.
She never understood their unwavering need to be in a relationship. It was almost as if being alone was some kind of social taboo. Or the kiss of death as a woman in this world.
Stephanie never wanted to be that shallow or transparent, but it was hard not to cave to peer pressure. She’d heard the whispers echoing around town about her tantrums and her series of relationship failures, ever since grade school.
And now, after the most painful and disruptive period in her life, she’d met this mysterious soul, Jack Bunker—a man who was destined to generate an endless storm of whispers. Whispers that would follow her everywhere she went.
Her heart skipped a few beats, knowing fate had stepped in and dealt her another wickedly sinful hand of cards.
“Who’s that guy with Daisy?” a familiar male voice said behind her.
Jeffrey spun around in her arms. “Daddy!” he said, prying himself loose from her grip. The boy leapt into his father’s arms, wrapping his hands around the man’s slender neck.
“How’s my little chief doing? Did you miss me?” William King said into Jeffrey’s ear, shooting Stephanie a judgmental, penetrating look. “I heard something happened today on the train. Are you okay, son?”
“Yeah, Daddy. It was really scary. First, the train stopped moving, then this really big airplane almost crashed into us. But our new friend, Jack, got us out of there. Then we found this huge bus in the forest with all these kids. They were hanging off a cliff but Mommy and Mr. Bunker got them all out. And I helped.”
“Sounds like you’re a little hero today. Your father is very proud of you,” William told his son, standing the boy on the ground. He looked at Jeffrey’s shirt and pointed at the fresh stain. “What’s this?”
“Ice cream. It was really good. They were giving it away before it melted.”
William smiled, though it looked forced.
Stephanie knew that look. Her ex was deep in thought and about to impose his will, again.
William took out his wallet and handed Jeffrey a five-dollar bill. “Here, son. Go get yourself another treat while Mommy and I have a little talk.”
“No, he’s had more than enough sweets for today,” Stephanie snapped.
William ignored her response, turning Jeffrey by the shoulders and aiming him toward the ice cream parlor. “It’s okay, son. Heroes deserve two treats when they help save lives like you did today.”
“But Daaaad, they’re free today. We don’t have to pay.”
“I know, Jeffrey, but remember what I’ve taught you. A real man always pays his own way in this world. He never takes charity from anyone. Charity is for lazy people who don’t want to work for what they have. And the men in the King family are never lazy. So take this money and go pay your way. Enjoy your ice cream while I speak to your mom in private.”
Jeffrey nodded, then took the greenback in his hand. He took off running for another round of ice cream.
“Why do you always do that?” she asked in a firm tone.
“Do what? Buy my only son some ice cream?”
“No, always go against my wishes and spoil him like that. I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. The judge gave me primary custody, despite all your lawyer’s dirty tactics. Little boys belong with their mothers, and the judge agreed with me.”
“So who was that man with Daisy? Was it this Jack Bunker asshole I’ve been hearing about?”
“Yes, and he’s no asshole. In fact, he’s the bravest man I’ve ever met. He risked his life for a bunch of complete strangers. Something I know you’d never do because there’s no profit in it.”
He hesitated, looking like he was holding back a torrent of rage. “Word has it you two hooked up on the train. It’s been what, seventy-two hours since the ink dried on our divorce decree? And you’re already spreading your legs?”
“It wasn’t like that at all. I’m not like you. I don’t just hook up with anyone. That’s your deal, remember?”
“I’m betting if my lawyer went back to the judge and explained how you were running away without permission and shacking up with some complete stranger on a train, and doing so in front of my son, there’d be some quick changes to the custody terms. I’m pretty sure they call that child endangerment. Shame on you, Steph.”
“You can’t do that! That’s a complete lie!”
“Watch me,” he said, looking away for a moment, then bringing his hateful eyes back to her. “When you decided to file for divorce, I told you to watch your step and never cross me. I own this town, just like my father before me.”
“It never ends with you, thinking you’re all that. Just because your family owns the silver mine doesn’t mean you control the courts.”
“I don’t need to. Not when you’re tramping around like some bitch in heat. All I need to do is put doubt in the judge’s mind and I guarantee you, he’ll see things my way. Slutting around on that train just gave me all the ammo I need.”
She raised her hand to slap him, but someone grabbed it from behind and held it.
“Easy now, Stephanie,” a man’s steady voice said.
She turned and saw Franklin Atwater’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. His daughter, Megan, was with him and walking with crutches, her knee in a shiny metal brace.
“What’s going on here?” the tall black man asked, looking extra handsome in his fitted cowboy shirt.
“Mind your own business, Atwater. This doesn’t concern you,” William said, flaring his eyes and pushing out his chin.
“I think today, I’ll make it my business,” Franklin said, letting go of Stephanie’s hand and turning his attention to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, well, sort of,” she said, pointing a nervous hand at her ex-husband. “I just can’t stand to look at him anymore. Every word out of his mouth is a lie. It never stops. I’m tired of everyone taking his side all the time.”
Atwater looked down at his daughter. “Megan, sweetheart, why don’t you go talk to Jeffrey for a minute? Looks like he might need some help with his ice cream.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered, hobbling away.
Atwater waited a handful of seconds before he turned and looked at William and then at Stephanie. He held out his hands, pointing at both of them. “Maybe both of you need to take a step back. Think about what’s happening here and how it looks to the little one in your life. I get that you two have some troubled history and things are a little heated right now, but it really doesn’t have to be like this. Don’t you think there are more important things to consider? Like Jeffrey’s future? I hope you both realize that everything you say and do to each other affects your son. There will be scars from all of this. Is that really what you want?”
William’s tense look hadn’t changed, still burning a hole into Stephanie’s face. “Ah, come on, Franklin. She’s an emotional mess. Everyone knows it. She’s always going ballistic over the littlest things. All I did was buy my son some ice cream and she gets all physical about it. I mean, look at Jeffrey. He’s happy. That’s how kids are supposed to be.”
Stephanie couldn’t believe the gall of her ex. “See, that’s exactly what I’m ta
lking about, Franklin. That’s a complete lie. That’s not why I wanted to slap him just now. He threatened to—”
Franklin interrupted her before she could finish the explanation, looking frustrated and upset. “The whys and whats don’t really matter at this point.”
“But wait, you don’t understand,” she said, trying to make him listen.
Franklin shook his head. “You two are divorced now. It’s time to act like grownups and stop hurting each other. Couples always know exactly which buttons to push, but this kind of behavior has to stop. For Jeffrey’s sake.”
Before she could raise another appeal to the towering cowboy, a heavyset man with a deputy star hanging from his plus-sized shirt appeared out of nowhere and stood behind her former spouse.
The unidentified deputy was accompanied by another man, this one taller and as skinny as a light post. He, too, was wearing a deputy’s badge on the loose-fitting shirt covering his obviously concave chest.
The words Blimp and Wimp burned into her thoughts when she saw the two of them together. Both men had their arms folded across their chests.
“Is there a problem here?” the fat deputy said, his voice ringing a familiar tone from her past.
“Do we need to call the Sheriff?” the skinny one said a split second later.
Stephanie took a long, hard look at the heavy guy, letting the contours of his round face, curly black hair, raging acne, and full, ragged beard soak in. She recognized him. “Albert? Is that you?”
“Hey Steph. Long time no see,” he answered. “I wasn’t sure for a minute that you’d remember me.”
“Who is this clown?” William asked, stepping to the side as if he wanted to keep a safe distance from the sudden wave of law enforcement.
“I’m Albert Mortenson. The new deputy sheriff in town. I went to high school with your wife.”
“Ex-wife,” William said, looking smug and condescending, like the complete jerk he was. “Crazy ex-wife, to be exact.”
Stephanie took a step forward, feeling an overwhelming desire to strike him dead. Whatever was controlling her heart right now was powerful and all-consuming.
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