“Yeah, sorry. The headache came on suddenly. I’m going to go to bed. Can I have a rain check on beers?” I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my neck.
“Sure, no problem.” The worry still crept into his words, and I wanted to comfort him and not draw attention to his concern, but I refused to face this head-on.
Not with him.
Not with anyone.
Not with myself.
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.” Even as I said the words, I realized they were hollow. This time of year was always challenging, and I knew that enjoying myself would be impossible for weeks until things passed, the calls stopped, and the memories faded.
Family was paramount to the Lockharts. Growing up with parents who made you feel like you were never good enough, made adult relationships seem impossible.
Goose bumps broke out on my skin, and sweat beaded across my brow as my hands shook.
“Same.” He didn’t sound convinced, but I lacked the ability or desire to keep talking. As if reading my mind, he spoke again. “I hope you feel better soon. Headaches are the worst.”
I nodded, fully aware he couldn’t see me even as another bolt of pain stabbed through my brain. “I’m going to get some rest. Thank you again for tonight, and sorry to be such a party pooper.” Party pooper? What was I, a sixty-year-old woman? I’d never used that term before in my life.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t worry about it. I want you to feel better. Take care of yourself, and let me know if there’s anything you need, okay?”
I nodded again, like an idiot. “Okay. I’ll do that.” He was so sweet. I didn’t doubt he knew there was more meaning in my silence than my words.
“Have a good night.”
“You too.” We hung up, and I stared at the phone, aware that I’d had the worst call and best call of the month in one night.
Life was crazy.
I liked Bayden, really liked him. But I didn’t see how we could make it work. The things we needed and wanted were too different.
That reality meant we could never be together, and, if possible, that left me even more grief-stricken than before.
Chapter Four
Bayden
Everything about how we’d left that last interaction Monday night bothered me. Miranda had taken a call that had been clearly distressing. Then she bailed on our date without saying a word. She hadn’t responded to my first couple of texts, and when she finally answered the phone, things seemed … off.
I worried about her. As I pulled into her driveway Wednesday afternoon, I tried to think of what I was going to say. How did I tell her I was concerned without coming across as creepy or overprotective? I knew she could handle herself. Hell, other than my mom, she was likely the strongest woman I knew.
I didn’t need to screw this up. Whatever Miranda was going through, she didn’t trust me enough to confide in me, yet. That was her right, but I wanted her to know I was there for her in any capacity she needed.
I killed the engine and got out of my truck, walking up to her front door like I belonged. The doorbell trilled, and I hoped she wasn’t out or busy. As close as we’d gotten, she didn’t share details of her life with me. I didn’t know what her hobbies were, or what she liked to do for fun, or even what she did on her days off.
Maybe she was at the creek swimming, or she went out of town to see family. Hell, she could have even driven to the city to go to the mall.
The last one didn’t seem like her, but she didn’t share much about herself with me, so it was possible.
The door opened, quelling my doubts about her whereabouts instantly. Dark circles under her eyes led me to believe she hadn’t slept well, and her pinched expression told me she wasn’t happy to have me on her doorstep.
“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms, blocking the opening in the doorway as if to keep me out.
And all the plans I’d had for what to say flew out of my brain. I hadn’t expected Miranda not to want to see me. To be honest, the rejection stung. “I was hoping we could talk about what happened the other night. Like adults.” The second I said the words, I wished I could yank them back.
Her eyes narrowed, and she lifted on the balls of her feet like a boxer ready to throw a mean right hook. She jabbed instead. “Adults usually call first. They don’t just show up.”
I let out a sigh and tried to decompress. “I’m sorry. It’s just … this,” I gestured between us to indicate the budding relationship we were cultivating, “is important to me.”
She relaxed a little, but only slightly. Her shoulders dropped an inch, and her weight shifted back to her heels before leveling out. That tiny gesture gave me the confidence to press forward and reveal more of the truth. Maybe it was stupid to put myself out there, but I had to try something because what I was doing wasn’t working.
“I’d like to be here for you when you need someone.” I sound like an idiot.
She tensed up again, and I wanted to groan. Why was I here again? She didn’t want me here. But I continued talking because I’d left my common sense in the truck. “If you want that too, let me in.”
She shifted to the right, bumping the door. It squeaked open another inch, and I opened my mouth again.
“Not literally. You know what I mean.” My attempt at lighthearted humor fell flat, and I wanted to fix it but didn’t know how.
She blinked, then closed up again. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Bayden.” Her calm tone reminded me of that silent, electrifying hum before lightning strikes. “I don’t have to do anything. I owe you nothing.”
“You’re right, you don’t owe me anything. But an explanation would be nice,” I said, frustrated. What in the hell happened? She’d never been like this before. She’d never pushed me away like this either. Had I done something to upset her? Other than showing up unannounced? But something told me that this wasn’t because of me. I was on the receiving end of something else that was bothering her.
Her eyes widened at my words, but she seemed to have nothing to say.
That was fine with me; I had plenty left to say. “We went out for drinks, you took a phone call, ran out on me, left without a word, didn’t answer my texts, then an hour later answered my call to tell me you had a headache. You scared the hell out of me!” As my stress bubbled over, I shoved a hand through my hair, hating that my fingers were shaking. This was so important to me, but it wasn’t going well at all.
“That’s not my problem! Maybe you scare too easily.” Her arms tightened across her chest like she was protecting herself from me, and I backed up a half step. The white of her knuckles and the way her fingers dug into her arm confused me. She seemed pissed. I wanted to know why, but I doubted she was in the mood to answer my questions.
“Then, I show up here to make sure you’re okay and to talk about it like a damn adult, and you tell me you don’t owe me anything.” Why didn’t she understand what I was trying to say?
Her voice rose. “I don’t!”
How could I explain myself better? I took a deep breath to calm down and responded. “I never said you did. I said that this is important to me. You’re important to me. I never said you owe me anything.”
Her eyes lit up with an almost feverish glitter that surprised me. “Why? Why am I important to you, Bayden? What do you know about me? What reason could you possibly care this much about a near stranger?”
She took a step toward me, her arms dropping to her sides and her fists balling up. As she leaned forward, I backed up another step.
But she wasn’t finished talking. “You’re building the new station. Thank you. I’m sorry if I led you to believe there’s more to this than that.” As she said the words, tears filled her eyes, and her voice broke. And I knew she wasn’t honest. “We’re working together. That’s it.”
“Then why agree to drinks?”
She seemed flustered. “Co-workers drink together.”
“So do friends, and I’m your
friend, Miranda.” Why was she doing this? “I know you were in the Guard. I know you hate pickles; it’s blasphemy. You think fruit shouldn’t be on pizza, which makes tomatoes feel awkward. I know you love beer, that you’re good at your job, and you don’t think locking everyone up is the answer. You’re a good person.” As I spoke, she seemed to relax again.
“Look, I know something is up with you. I get it. Sometimes life sucks, but I’m here when you’re ready to talk because that’s what friends do.”
But she shook her head. I wasn’t sure what she was saying no to, but the universal gesture was unmistakable.
“Do you want me to go?” I asked, taking another step back, “because I’ll go. I didn’t come here to upset you. I hope you know that.”
The tears sparkling in her eyes made me ache for her, but she didn’t say a word. She seemed frozen in place, her face begging me to stay, but her body language demanding I go.
“I won't give up on you because you had a bad day. Everybody has bad days, and bad things happen.” I spread my arms, wanting more than anything for her to step into them for a hug. But she didn’t.
“Just go,” she whispered as if she couldn’t trust her voice.
I studied her, unsure. Then—without another word—I turned and walked back to my truck.
Behind the wheel, I backed out and drove aimlessly. As I went through town, I wished I could call my dad for advice. I’d give anything to hear his voice and listen to his words of wisdom regarding women.
I parked at Roy’s and headed inside. Finding a dark corner, I sat down and ordered a beer. Kandra was off, and Roy brought me the brew, hesitated, then sat down across from me.
“What happened?”
I glanced at him, surprised.
He let out a chuckle. “Son, I know women problems when I see them.” With a glance around, he leaned in and spoke in a lower voice. “I might not seem like it, but I’m not terrible with women.”
“Don’t let him lie to you,” Gypsy said from a few tables away. “He’s terrible. Clueless, really. He hasn’t even asked me out yet.” She continued to eat her garlic knots, her brows high and incredulous.
“I’ll get to it when I’m ready!” He turned away from her and hunched his shoulders. “See? Can’t even keep ‘em away.”
I chuckled. It had never even occurred to me that those two might consider getting together. Roy lost his wife nearly a decade before, and Gypsy had long since divorced her ex-husband. It was a step up for her, by all accounts, and I was happy she was getting away from a garbage guy. She was a sweet woman that deserved someone good.
“I heard that!”
He winced slightly at her words, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.
“I screwed up. But I’m not sure how.” I didn’t even know where to start. Everything was so damn complicated.
“Well, I’m not the type to gossip, but I know that a certain sheriff has her demons. I’d say, be patient and kind and there when she needs you.” Roy’s congenial tone helped put me at ease. He was telling me to do exactly what I’d been doing and what I planned to keep doing.
“Thank you.”
“The quiet ones are always trouble.” Gypsy laughed. “They’re tougher nuts to crack, but well worth it.”
“I think you’re the only nut here,” Roy said over his shoulder, “and you’ve already cracked!”
Gypsy nodded her head. “True, true.” She adjusted the strap of her tie-dyed dress and smoothed her hair back into her bun.
“And if you screwed up, give her some space, then apologize. Let her cool off, then dust off and get back in the ring.” He lifted both shoulders. “Unless she’s told you flat out she’s not interested, then step back until she comes to you. If she doesn’t, she’s not the one for you.”
“You make it sound so easy.” I took a deep gulp of my beer.
“Because it is. It only seems tough because you’re living it. You’re in your head, making everything more difficult.” Roy shifted in his seat as if expecting Gypsy to chime in. But she didn’t.
“You’re probably right.”
He snorted. “Probably?”
“No, he’s right. This time.” Gypsy lifted both shoulders. “I mean, it worked with Noah and Kandra. I told him almost the same thing and look how that turned out.”
“You got the two to talk again,” Roy said to her, and she nodded. “Doesn’t make you an expert.”
“More of an expert than you. Who have you gotten back together?” She laughed at him, and he glared playfully at her.
“Well, I’m trying to work on this one, no thanks to you.” He gestured at me as they talked, like I wasn’t even there. And I chuckled, amused by them as I drank my beer. Yep, they sounded like a perfect couple.
“It is excellent advice,” I told him. “We’ll see how it works out for me soon enough.” For some reason, I enjoyed the thought of those two making a competition out of playing matchmaker.
Chapter Five
Miranda
The weight of everything seemed heavier today than most days. I parked the Tahoe facing the main strip and sat for a few moments, composing myself. Taking a few deep breaths, I blew them out slowly and tried to shake the stress out of my hands. It didn’t work. After the talk with my mother, I thought I was as low as I could get, and my life couldn’t get any worse—I was wrong.
Now the look in Bayden’s eyes as he said, I won’t give up on you because you had a bad day haunted me. But I felt worse when I thought about the look in his eyes when I’d told him to go. I couldn’t get the defeated set to his shoulders when he’d walked away out of my mind’s eye. I couldn’t stop thinking about how hurt he’d been.
My hands tightened around the wheel, and my knuckles went white. The leather squeaked under the pressure of my grip, but I didn’t ease up.
I hurt him, and all he’d wanted to do was help me.
I didn’t want to push him away, but I didn’t know what else to do. We couldn’t be together because it wouldn’t work. I was broken. My parents tore me down every chance they could. I didn’t know what a loving relationship looked like or how to be in one.
It didn’t matter that I wanted to be with him because we weren’t right for each other. Maybe I wasn’t a suitable match for anyone.
My hands ached, and I let go of the wheel and sat watching the traffic. The day had been quiet, as usual, but I would not complain about that. I wasn’t sure I could handle anything too serious. I’d been ready to call in my deputy if I wound up in something over my head, but thankfully, I hadn’t had to.
My mind kept drifting back to Bayden. What else could I do? I mean, a clean break seemed kinder. Now all I had to do was avoid him until he got married or one of us died of old age. That wouldn’t be too hard because he was good-looking— if I was honest, hot is more like it. Some woman would snatch him right up. And if he decided to be a stubborn ass and never marry, well, one of us eventually had to die.
I would have laughed if the thought wasn’t so damn depressing.
Patti came out of her shop and gave me a little wave.
I stepped out of the Tahoe and walked toward her. She smiled, her hazel eyes looking almost honey-colored in the sunshine. The sun picked out red highlights from her tawny-colored hair, and she waited for me to approach.
“You know, I’d love to see you in yellow. Like a sundress.” She pulled me in for a hug, and I tried to smile. “How’s life?”
“It goes. How are you?” I pulled back and studied her as she stood outside her shop and stretched a bit, waving at someone as they drove past.
“Good, good. And how is Bayden?” She was staring at me like she could read my mind if she focused on my expression hard enough.
I gave a slight shake of my head, lifted my shoulders, and spread my hands. “Fine, I guess. I’m not sure.”
Her expression dropped a bit. “Oh. I thought you two were dating now. That’s a shame.”
“Oh, no. We’re not dating.” I let
out a chuckle and stood my ground as she danced around me. Patti was another person who always knew what was happening. She knew who was looking for love, who was single, and who was the perfect match for everyone else.
“Need a trim?” she asked me, nudging her head toward her salon. “It’s on the house. I’m not busy today.”
I shook my head. “Can’t. If something were to happen while I was in your chair, well, you know … but I’m happy to stay and visit for a few.”
She didn’t seem to like my answer.
“Thank you for the offer though,” I said, and she lit up.
“You’re very welcome. You’re fabulous at your job, you know. I’m glad you’re the sheriff.” Her thoughtful eyes traced my face, then left to watch the traffic.
“Thank you. I’m proud to be here.” It was hard to carry on a simple conversation with Bayden running circles through my mind.
She smiled at me. “You know, Bayden’s a good guy too. I’d been hoping he’d find the perfect woman to settle down with.”
She wasn’t subtle. I’d give her that. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I didn’t like being on the spot when I already felt off balance. “He is a good man, and I also hope he finds the right woman.” With a smile frozen on my face, I tried to figure out how to back out of the conversation gracefully. The thought of Bayden with another woman left a bitter taste in my mouth, which made little sense. He had every right to see whomever he wanted, so why did that bother me? I was the one turning him down and pushing him away, not the other way around.
“You know,” she said, giving me a sideways glance as she danced a step closer to me on the light-gray concrete sidewalk outside her salon, “some people think you’re the woman for him.”
I chuckled. “Honey, I’m so busy I don’t have time to think about men. It wouldn’t be fair for him to have to put up with my hectic schedule.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. Plenty of sheriffs have families and even kids.”
Fearless Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 2) Page 3