“Every officer has split-second decisions to make,” Chance agreed. “So does every cop. You go with your training—and I know you’ve been following protocol to a T. But when your life isn’t on the line, it’s okay to let them know that you’re human.”
“Weak, you mean,” Toby said wryly.
“I stand by human.” Chance slid another page across his desk. “These are the families of the other men who died over the last five years. Start by finding out their personal relationship to the man and take it from there.”
Toby didn’t touch the page for a moment, then reached out and put his hand over it. “I’m sorry about your brother, sir.”
“Thank you.” Chance felt a lump rise in his throat. “He was a good guy.”
Toby rose to his feet. “Permission to be dismissed, sir?”
“Granted.”
Toby met Chance’s gaze for a split second, then saluted and turned toward the door. Six men. That was why Toby hid behind the rules and regulations. He’d lost six men and he couldn’t live with himself if he made another mistake. Mistakes in the army were deadly. Mistakes in the police force could be deadly, too, but not as often. And not normally in Comfort Creek.
Chance sat there in the quiet for a long time. He knew what it felt like to be responsible for a death, because he’d been part of the pressure that drove his brother away. When they’d cleaned Sadie’s stuff out of Noah’s house, Toby had thrown an engraved key chain into a box, and Chance had retrieved it.
He told himself it was because his brother needed to hold on to something from his time with Sadie...but that hadn’t been true. It had been for him. He hadn’t wanted to let her go entirely yet. He wasn’t ready for her leaving to be final.
Chance had been in love with his brother’s fiancée, and he’d made his peace with that. Sadie was the whole package—beautiful, funny, sweet and definitely hard to get. And he hadn’t been able to shake free of his feelings for her. So he told his brother that he’d want to remember her. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. She did represent five years of his brother’s life. So he’d kept that key chain and he’d put it into his pocket while he watched Harper Kemp drive off with a truckload of personal effects to be delivered to Abigail Jenkins.
Let me see that. Noah had held out his hand, and Chance handed it over. Noah looked at it morosely for a few beats, then nodded slowly. You’re right. I can’t just wipe out five years, can I?
When Noah got back from his first deployment, Chance saw his brother fiddling with that same engraved key chain. It was scratched up, but he still recognized it. His brother had taken it with him—a touchstone from home. It had been in his pocket on the day he was shot.
And Chance couldn’t help but wonder—if he hadn’t snatched up that key chain...if he hadn’t been trying to hold on to Sadie in some small part of his own heart, would things have been different? So maybe Noah wouldn’t have been able to erase five years of his own life, but would it have killed Chance to just let his brother believe he could for a little while? And if he’d done that, would Noah have been able to deal with his heartbreak in his own way, and maybe have stayed home to do it?
Sometimes, it was the smallest things that proved to be pivotal in a life—a sermon, a piece of advice, a fragment of a song. For them, that pivotal moment wasn’t so innocuous—it was a betrayal. Chance had almost kissed Sadie and then burdened her with his feelings for her. His brother never knew, but it had all started to topple with Chance’s moment of weakness.
Noah had tried to sweep himself clean of Sadie. He’d tried. Chance should have left well enough alone. He’d shouldered these feelings for her for years already, and he could have done it for a little longer.
* * *
That evening, Sadie stood in the aisle at Comfort Creek’s Craft Corner, the only crafting shop they had. It was well stocked, though, and Sadie was perusing some dollhouse items. There was a tiny kitchen stove that could be lit using a tea light. It was actually functional, and while the idea of being able to cook tiny meals on doll dishes was entrancing, she wasn’t really about to do it. Still, it was hard to turn away.
“I just got those in,” Liz, the store owner, said from where she sat on her haunches, dusting a shelf. “There are all sorts of YouTube videos with tiny cooking. Ridiculously soothing. Have you seen them?”
“No.” Sadie chuckled. “But Nana probably has.”
Gone were the days of Nana needing help with her Wi-Fi, apparently. Sadie moved down the aisle, scanning items they didn’t need. She was tempted to start a new dollhouse—a neighbor for the existing house. She wouldn’t, though. Her eye fell on a tiny mop and bucket, and she grinned. It would be perfect for the corner of the kitchen.
“I think I’ll get this, Liz,” she said.
Liz pushed herself to her feet and headed to the cash register with Sadie.
“Your grandmother’s dollhouse is just amazing. She could make a fortune off of it, you know,” Liz said as she rang up the sale. “There are people eager to buy a completely furnished dollhouse, and they’ll pay a pretty penny for it, too.”
“Sell it?” The thought was almost painful. That dollhouse was more than a collector’s item, it was the best part of her childhood. “Never. My grandmother just made hand-stitched quilts for the beds.”
“I know.” Liz put a hand over her heart. “It’s stunning. The time and effort that goes into something like that... You’re right. It’s about more than money.”
Sadie paid and took her change. She’d been here looking at the dollhouse items, but she’d also been looking at different options to decorate the town square for the upcoming ceremony. There were a few things she liked, but she hadn’t made a final decision yet.
“How long will it take to order in those streamers?” Sadie asked.
“For an extra fee I can have them rushed overnight,” Liz replied. “Just let me know when you decide, and I’ll put in the order.”
“Thanks, Liz. I appreciate it. I’ll be in touch.”
Liz picked up her dusting rag again and waved as Sadie headed toward the door. Outside, the sun had set and the streetlights left golden pools on the snowbanks. She paused to wrap her scarf around her neck and pull on her gloves before she pushed open the door and stepped out into the winter night.
She’d walked to the store this evening because she wanted the fresh air and some time to think. It had been great to reconnect with Harper, and it brought back a flood of memories of when she thought this town and a loving husband would be enough for her. It was ironic that she was back, still believing this town could be enough. It hadn’t been before...
But Comfort Creek hadn’t been the problem, it was her. She could still remember the flood of relief as she stepped on the gas and headed out of town toward the open highway. Maybe that was how her mother had felt, too, when she’d driven off with her musician boyfriend, leaving Comfort Creek and the pressures of motherhood behind her. Lori had always been holding out for something better on the horizon, and as much as Sadie resented her mother for that instability, she’d ended up just like her.
Sadie angled her steps toward home, and in some ways, it was as if those five years away from this town just evaporated. Comfort Creek was no different—the craft shop, the town hall, the muffled silence of snowy streets... Her feet knew the way home without her even having to think about it, and she smiled to herself, thinking about giving Nana the tiny mop. She’d love it. Nana was the easiest person to buy gifts for—something for the dollhouse never disappointed.
The sidewalk ended and Sadie stepped off the curb to continue up the road when her boot hit a patch of ice hidden under the snowfall. Her heart leaped to her throat, and if a panicked gasp aimed heavenward could count as a prayer—
Her leg twisted under her and she went down heavily, her breath knocked out of her lungs. She sat there for a moment, catch
ing her breath. Her knee ached from the way she’d twisted it and her hip was sore both from landing and the cold from the snow, but that was the worst of it.
“Ouch...” She eased forward to get up just as she heard the rumble of a motor behind her on the road. She turned to see a police cruiser. Comfort Creek was the best-patrolled town in America with all these sensitivity trainees driving around, and tonight she was grateful for that. The car pulled to a stop and she saw Chance in the driver’s seat, concern written all over his face. He pushed open the door and left it open as he tramped through the snow and bent down to help her up.
“You okay?” He offered her his hand and she took it, then winced as she rose to her feet. Her backside was covered in snow and her leg hurt. She bent to rub her knee.
“Fine.” She laughed self-consciously. “I just slipped on some ice. Thanks.”
Chance didn’t let go of her right away, keeping a hold of her arm as she wiped herself off with the other hand. She felt embarrassed by the fall, and also a little shaken. She was grudgingly glad to have Chance there to help her back up. She pulled the little bag out of her pocket and was disappointed to see that the tiny mop handle had been snapped when she landed on it.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, and he let go of her.
Chance didn’t move, however, and when she looked up, she caught a flicker of the old Chance in his expression, and she felt a wave of such nostalgia that it almost brought tears to her eyes.
“That must have hurt,” Chance said, misreading her expression. “You want a ride home?”
“Sure.” It wasn’t far, but between the cold and her sore knee, it wouldn’t be a comfortable walk. “Thanks, Chance.”
It felt like old times—back when she had Chance and Noah looking out for her...back when she was on the verge of becoming a Morgan, too. It had been safe and comforting in a way she hadn’t fully appreciated back then.
Chance opened the passenger-side door and Sadie limped over and eased into the warm seat. Chance got back into the driver’s side. He put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye.
“Thanks for stopping,” she said.
“Part of the job.” But there was a slight upturn to his lips as he said it. He was softening up a bit—she could feel it.
“I ran into Harper today,” she said.
“Yeah? How’s she doing?”
“Good.” Sadie rubbed at her knee again. “She told me about Martin and Laney. The divorce and all that.”
“Oh, yeah.” The snow crunched under the tires as they eased up the street. “That was pretty bad. Didn’t your grandmother fill you in?”
“Not much.” She leaned back. Maybe Nana thought it was too sordid, or perhaps there were bigger things happening with Sadie’s mother at the time to monopolize their conversation. “Chance, that could have been me and Noah.”
“Bitterly divorced?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell by his tone what he was feeling.
“Noah was a good man—more than good. Everyone knows that. Noah was a catch, but he wasn’t right for me. And I wasn’t right for him.”
“Could have fooled me,” he said, his tone low. “He really loved you.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But it’s possible to really love someone who isn’t good for you.”
Loving Sadie hadn’t been good for Noah. Some people were like that—and it looked like she’d inherited that trait from her mom.
“He’d have been loyal,” Chance said. “He’d have been honest and a hard worker. You’d never have wanted for anything.”
Sadie knew all that—that was exactly why it had taken her so long to walk away from him. Noah had been a great guy, and he’d loved her. She knew that didn’t come along every day, but she still believed she couldn’t have been happy with him—not completely.
“It wasn’t the money, Chance.” She heard the resentment in her own voice.
“I’m not saying—” he started.
“I didn’t want to get married in order to have financial security.” She pulled off her gloves. “Marriage should be more than that. I wanted to marry a man who, when you took away the money and the career, stripped away the family—if it was just he and I, no one else—I’d be willing to live with in poverty by ourselves, if that’s what it came to.”
“Stripping away the family?” Chance shot her an unfathomable look.
“I don’t mean that I’d ever want to get rid of a man’s family,” she clarified. “But with Noah and the rest of you—you were a package deal. And that was wonderful! I loved you guys. Your family was part of the draw with Noah, and that didn’t seem right, somehow.”
“It doesn’t seem like such a bad thing from where I’m sitting,” he retorted.
“If I wanted Noah so long as the rest of you were in the picture, what if something happened? I mean, what if Noah and I had to move far away and it was just the two of us? What if your parents decided to move to Florida to retire, and you got married and headed to Beverly Hills? What then? Would I still be happy with just Noah in Comfort Creek?”
“Beverly Hills, huh?”
“Then Cleveland. I don’t care. You know what I’m getting at. It isn’t right to marry a man for the good times, if I wouldn’t be grateful to be by his side in the bad times.”
“And me in Beverly Hills—that’s the bad times?” She could hear the dry humor in his tone.
“Misery.” She rolled her eyes. “Chance, right now I might be Public Enemy Number One, but you and I were friends. Don’t you remember that? I know it got...complicated at the end, but...we got along so well. And your mom is just amazing. I mean, at this point she probably can’t stand me, either, but I loved learning her recipes and listening to her stories about when you and Noah were little. That was the best part of the holidays with your family. And...I shouldn’t have been that content with hanging out with the rest of you. I should have been a little more eager to get time alone with Noah. Don’t you think?”
“So you liked being with the family more than you liked being alone with my brother?”
“Sort of,” she admitted. “It’s just that...I think we were missing something that should have been there.”
“It was there for him,” he said, and his words hit her in the gut.
“Maybe,” she agreed softly. “But if I was going to vow for better or for worse, I needed to make sure I meant that. Because life can be hard, and you can end up with ‘for worse’ in a heartbeat.”
He didn’t answer, and his expression stayed stoically immobile, just the way it always was. The house was coming up, and Sadie looked at the pink shutters, comfortingly pretty against the white of the snow. She was home, but home was more than one person, or a house, or even the culmination of childhood memories. It was something more, and she could feel an empty ache inside of her. Whatever it was, she was still looking for it.
Lord, she prayed. Why can’t I just be content?
She fiddled with the broken mop as Chance pulled up in front of the house. He parked and then looked over at her.
“I’m sorry about that,” Chance said, nodding at the broken item in her hands. “Maybe you can glue it or something.”
“I’m hoping.” She smiled wanly. “Nana’s been doing more work on the dollhouse. I guess I just wanted to be part of that again.”
Chance nodded. “Let me give you a hand getting inside.”
She looked out the window to the slick of ice on Nana’s driveway. She’d spread some salt, and there were some melted patches.
“You don’t have to, Chase.” She could pick her way to the door.
“Sure, I do.” His expression was still granite, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Hold on. I’m coming around.”
He got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him before he starte
d around the front of the vehicle to her side. She sat in the warm silence, watching him. A gentleman to the last. She knew that he hadn’t forgiven her, but it was the cop in him, and possibly the Christian, that kept him doing his duty despite his personal feelings.
He arrived at her door and she pushed it open. She just missed the days when his kindness wasn’t duty, but then, that was selfish on her part, too, because he’d been hiding deeper feelings back then and his kindness had probably been painful in a whole different way. She’d left town because she couldn’t marry Noah, knowing that his brother was the one who made it all worthwhile, and she didn’t have the right to ask for anything from Chance now.
Chapter Seven
Sadie paused and looked toward the wide wooden porch on the front of her grandmother’s home. The last time she and Chance stood on that porch, it had been the night before her wedding. She pushed back the memories. Friends. That was the goal here. Was that too much for her to ask? She had to coexist in this town with the Morgans, and she had to forge something new with Chance—something distinct from the complicated friendship they’d had before.
“Have you seen Nana’s dollhouse?” Sadie asked as she hobbled up the walk. It was a distraction mostly. What would Chance care about a dollhouse?
“No,” he replied. “But Noah mentioned it. Said it was pretty impressive.”
They reached the walkway that led to the front steps. Her knee was sore and cold, and she was grateful when they reached the stairs. Chance went with her to the porch, then released her arm and took a step back.
“Thank you,” she said, and she could feel her cheeks heat. She looked toward the door.
“Not a problem. Glad you’re okay.”
“Do you want to come in?” she asked. She was almost certain he’d say no, but he’d gone through the trouble of getting her safely home, and it only seemed polite to offer. She was also eager to get away from this spot filled with uncomfortable memories.
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