by Lisa Carter
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Could it be she affected him the way he affected her?
“I’m still planning on doing story time tomorrow night after the library closes for the weekend. But I wanted no more secrets between you and me.”
“Evy... I—” He swallowed.
She glanced at the mantel clock. “Hang in there, Deputy. It’s almost time for another pain pill.”
His gaze slid away.
The strain of the day must have caught up to him. Bernie and Dixie would have their hands full keeping him from nodding off.
He gestured toward the hall. “Would you help me?”
She eased him off the sofa and guided him into the study. Novel clutched under his arm, he headed straight for the window seat.
As she examined his battered features, her eyes misted. He’d come close—too close—to never sitting there again.
He raised his copy of Northanger Abbey. “Dixie’s making me read the rest of the chapters out loud. She and Bernie are going to reenact the scenes.” Charlie rolled his tongue in his cheek. “If that doesn’t keep me awake, nothing will.”
She laughed and, before she second-guessed herself, kissed his cheek. The hazel in his eyes deepened.
Evy ran her finger alongside the stubble sandpapering his jawline. “Don’t have too much fun without me, Deputy. Remember those tender ribs.”
He caught her hand. “Nothing is as fun without you.”
“You’ve got good friends in your life, Charlie Pruitt.”
“The best.”
And he kissed her fingers. Her insides turned to liquid. The beat of her heart drummed in her chest.
“Oh, Evy,” he sighed. “What in the world am I going to do about you?”
“Be well, Charlie. Till tomorrow.”
She took a deep, steadying breath and walked out of his house while she still possessed the willpower to do so.
* * *
The next morning was cool and crisp. A harbinger of harvest season. She made a mental note to buy pumpkins to decorate the library porch.
When she reached the Keller farm, Sawyer and several children had already gathered in the barn. The smell of hay and leather tickled her nose. Latasha hugged Evy.
Sawyer pushed back the brim of his hat. “Good morning.” He smiled. “It’s great to see you. I’m so glad you decided to join us.”
Her pulse quickened. Would she ever get used to seeing him, having him even in a small way in her life again?
“It’s good to see you, too.”
For the next hour, she learned how to groom a horse and how to clean tack. Under his close supervision, she and the children brushed the horse’s coat.
Latasha ran her hands through the horse’s mane. “Alfalfa’s hair is so pretty.”
From over the horse’s withers—Evy was inordinately proud she’d remembered that—Sawyer winked at Latasha. “Maybe sometime I can show you how to braid Alfalfa’s mane.”
He play-tugged one of the barrettes on Latasha’s cornrows. “You two could match.”
Blake, the not-so-holy terror of a succession of foster homes, made a face. “Alfalfa’s a guy horse, Tash. Play beauty parlor on Darla.”
Evy jutted her hip at Sawyer. “Tell me you didn’t name the horses after the characters on Little Rascals?”
“That would’ve been Mr. Keller.” Sawyer laughed. “Not me. Before my time. I’m more of a Star Trek fan myself.”
She blinked. “Really? Me, too. Original or Next Generation?”
“Original, for sure.” Sawyer handed Latasha the curry comb. “But I liked Next Generation the best after that. Voyager third.”
“Why Star Trek?”
Sawyer ran his hand over Alfalfa. “I liked the hope and optimism of brave new worlds. Of second chances.”
He trained his eyes on the horse. “My sister and I used to watch the show together when my dad was...” He bit his lip.
Evy’s breath hitched.
He shuffled his boots. “Afterward, no matter where I was, I kept watching. Made me feel connected to her.” Uncomfortable with emotion, he moved away to oversee one of the kids.
Evy’s heart pounded. She still had so many questions. Lifelong questions. But to probe further might open old wounds best left alone.
His back to the horse, Sawyer lifted one of the hooves and braced it between his legs. He showed them how to inspect and clean the hoof. Except for Blake, the children shied away, backing into Evy.
Latasha’s eyes resembled large brown coins. “Are we going to have to do that?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Only if you want to. Thought I’d give you the complete picture of what we do to take care of our horse friends.”
Blake stepped forward. “I’d like to learn.” He tucked his thumbs in his belt and widened his hips.
A fair imitation of Sawyer’s splayed-leg stance. A holdover from Sawyer’s Coast Guard days? So many things she didn’t know about Sawyer. So many things she’d probably never know.
Sawyer ruffled Blake’s hair. “A man who boldly goes where no one has gone before. I like that. How about you, Evy?”
Evy smiled back. She’d done the right thing coming to Kiptohanock. She’d treasure these few memories forever.
Sawyer showed Blake how to touch Alfalfa’s leg and pick up the hoof. Almost under the belly of the beast, Blake’s grin was infectious. The other children admired his courage and told him so. Blake’s posture broadened under their praise. His shoulders squared.
“I think that’s enough for today.” Sawyer ushered them out of the stall. “Next week, we’ll tack Alfalfa, Darla and Spanky. Maybe somebody brave might want to do a short ride around the corral.”
Blake tipped his pint-size cowboy hat with his finger. Evy’s heart turned over at the gesture so reminiscent of Sawyer. “I might be up for some of that action.”
Sawyer nodded. “It’s a plan, then.” He secured the stall door. “Mr. Keller and Felicia have breakfast waiting in the kitchen. And I think I heard something about Long Johns, a personal favorite of mine.” He laughed to himself as if at an inside joke.
A general stampede ensued as the children raced for the house.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” she called after them.
“You have a special gift with children, Evy,” Sawyer said. “I wish you’d been around over the summer.”
Evy wished so, too. But until she met Charlie, her efforts to infiltrate Keller’s Kids Camp had been rebuffed. By Honey. Evy couldn’t tell Sawyer that, though.
He gazed across the barnyard toward the white-framed farmhouse. “I think we’ve had a breakthrough with Blake. He’s been such an angry, sullen kid.” He ducked his head and brushed his hat against his thigh. “Been there. Been him.”
Which told her a lot. About the time during their separation. About the years they’d missed knowing each other.
“Thanks for coming this morning, Evy.”
She lifted her chin. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll be back tonight for story hour.” She shrugged. “That’s more my skill set.”
He tapped his finger on the side of his nose. “Don’t discount your equestrian talents.”
“Very hidden equestrian talents.”
He settled the hat on his head. “I’ll make a proper rider out of you before we’re done, I promise.”
“I look forward to it.” And she did.
* * *
At church the next day, she met Charlie’s firefighter brother, Will. Older by a few years, but infinitely less handsome, Charlie assured her when he introduced them.
Will rolled his eyes. She laughed at the competitive yet close bond between the brothers. Like maybe she and Sawyer would’ve enjoyed if not for—
She decided
not to go there. If wishes were horses, she’d be riding rainbows in the sky. What was done was done. She had now. And for now, that was enough.
“Where have you been hiding this lovely librarian, bro?” Will’s eyes, the blue-green so many of the locals possessed, gleamed with mischief. “If I didn’t live across the bay...”
Charlie arched his brow. “You may have forgotten that unlike you pretty boys lazing around the firehouse, I’m licensed to carry. And I’m not afraid to use it.”
His brother laughed harder. “Evy, you look too smart to fall for the likes of this scoundrel.”
Charlie’s mouth twitched. She gave Will points for handling SuperDeputy. Poking good-natured fun in the way only a sibling could.
“Stick with me, sweetheart.” Will elbowed his brother. “I’m the real reader in this family.”
Charlie feigned outrage. “Absolutely untrue. Evy knows how I love a good book.”
The rest of the week flew by for Evy. Will—to her regret and Charlie’s alleged relief—went back home across the bridge.
She conducted the weekly after-school story time for the children of Kiptohanock. And of course, presided over the Thursday evening book club. To which Charlie, as usual, contributed his unique take on Austen literature.
After a week of enforced leisure, Charlie returned to work. They talked to each other or texted every day. He didn’t push her to answer questions she was sure he must have. And she was grateful for his understanding.
Another Saturday came and went. She’d resisted Sawyer’s efforts to get her into the saddle. Telling him she wanted the children to have first opportunity.
Those mornings were precious, a gift from God. The lessons wouldn’t last forever, so she savored each one. As September rolled into October, she judiciously stayed out of Honey’s way. Which wasn’t as hard as she’d supposed.
Autumn on the Shore was a popular time for tourists to come for the fishing—who knew?—and for couples seeking a romantic getaway. With the help of her dad, Honey kept busy running the inn. Which was fine by Evy.
Less drama. Less tension. A win-win for everyone.
During Saturday night storytelling at Keller’s, she could see Charlie observing Sawyer from a distance. Imagination or wishful thinking, but perhaps with a tad less censure? She prayed for both of them. As Sawyer shared more of his personal story with the children each week, Charlie’s attitude softened toward her brother.
When Charlie wasn’t on duty, they met for dinner most nights. For Chinese or over takeout at his house. He was fast becoming her best friend.
She wished she could capture each moment with Charlie and Sawyer. Hold them forever. But the days were getting shorter. In more ways than one.
One evening, she and Charlie met by the Kiptohanock seawall. She felt the rosy heat of the sunset through the fabric on the back of her cardigan as they gazed across the harbor toward the barrier islands. The twilight deepened.
“Why haven’t you told Sawyer that you’re his sister?”
She’d been waiting for Charlie to ask the obvious question. The sun hung suspended one moment more before disappearing beyond the line of the horizon. She turned away from the boats bobbing in the marina and faced him.
“My brother has a life here. A good life without me. I don’t want to spoil that for him. To create unrealistic obligations he can never fulfill.”
“Why do you think you’d spoil his life, Evy?”
Her eyes flitted to where the white church steeple pierced the indigo-streaked sky. The peace of the evening enveloped her. “There’s no place for me in his life, Charlie. You know it’s true. For whatever reason, his wife hates me.”
A muscle jumped in Charlie’s cheek.
“She’ll never willingly let me into the circle of his life. I’d always be the outsider. He has a family now. A family who loves him. I refuse to disrupt that. He doesn’t need me.”
“You don’t know what he needs. The things he’s said to the kids...” Charlie shook his head. “I’m starting to believe Sawyer never stopped looking for you. Being in his life could bring the closure you both need. And also the beginning of a long-awaited chapter.”
“I can’t take that risk.” Her voice grew small. “Suppose he wouldn’t be happy to know who I am?”
The wind blew a wisp of her hair across her cheek. Before she could brush it back, Charlie’s fingers did it for her. She’d taken to wearing it loose when she was with him. He seemed to enjoy watching her hair play across her shoulders.
“I hate it when you sell yourself short, Evy Shaw. I can’t imagine anyone not being happy to know you.”
She trembled. “Are you happy to know me, Charlie?”
He tilted her chin upward. “Let me show you how happy.” Bending, his lips claimed hers.
Evy’s knees nearly buckled. But he held her in a tight grip against his chest. His mouth on hers was gentle. Their first real kiss.
Joy rocketed through her being. She swayed. He tasted like sweet tea.
Her fingers spread against his shirt, she felt the pounding of his heart beneath her hand. After a moment he pulled away so they could both regain their breath.
“That happy enough for you, Evy?” His voice was a husky whisper.
She liked being held in the circle of his arms. She didn’t know the last time she’d felt so safe. So cared for. So loved?
Her mouth went dry. Was it possible for someone like Charlie to love someone as insignificant as her?
With surprising intensity, she believed that God had brought them together. In her quest to find her brother, God had also provided much more than she could’ve ever possibly imagined.
“I’m glad I told you my secret, Charlie. I was afraid at first, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
* * *
Like a bucket of ice water in the face, Charlie flinched. He needed to tell Evy the truth. He made an excuse about needing to get some shut-eye. But in reality, he couldn’t stomach his own deceit any longer.
All the more reason why he should’ve come clean with Evy then and there. But he hadn’t. He’d stalled. Rationalizing as he headed past the square toward home that he needed more time. To think through how best to phrase his complicity in the conspiracy against her.
Like there was a good way to say, “Oh, by the way, Evy. I joined the book club and pretended to be your friend so I could spy on you because an old, not-so-good friend asked me to betray you.”
That was going to go over well. Though he hadn’t pretended long. When she looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers behind the horn-rimmed glasses...her eyes full of him...?
Upon reflection of Evy’s winsome ways, the pretense probably hadn’t survived that first dinner over Chinese. ’Cause Evy and even the hen party book club were the first things he thought about in the morning. And the last at night.
Evy Shaw had made a reader out of him. Go figure. And a believer, too. A believer in a second-chance God and in second-chance love.
So why was he finding it so hard to tell the truth? Tossing and turning on his mattress, he punched his pillow.
Because he was terrified that if he told Evy the actual circumstances and motivation surrounding their friendship, she’d lose her faith in him. He’d lose any chance for something more. Something real.
Though how real any relationship could be founded upon lies, he didn’t want to consider.
Pride? Oh, yeah. For sure.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. Telling her the truth would only hurt Evy. Maybe she didn’t ever need to learn the truth. Not when the truth now was that he cared deeply for her.
As more than just a friend. She’d found her brother. She loved her job. She had good friends like Dixie and one for the record books, Mrs. Davenport. She’d finally foun
d a home, a place to belong, in Kiptohanock.
Viewed in that light, he was doing Evy a favor by not telling her the whole truth.
The past was the past. And the past was where the past should stay. Evy herself had said that. There was no good reason for her to learn about his secret involvement.
His conscience smote him. No good reason, except it was the truth. He ought to call Evy right now and explain. She was a forgiving person. She’d understand.
Charlie reached for his cell lying on the nightstand. He let his hand drop. He glanced at the digital clock. It was so late. Too late? Maybe tomorrow he’d call. Maybe... He was a coward and he knew it.
And instead of calling Evy, he texted Honey.
In no uncertain terms, calling off his part in the investigation. It was the best he could do for now.
Until he worked up the courage to face Evy’s rightly deserved scorn.
Chapter Thirteen
Saturday morning, Evy faced her fear and got on the horse.
Her shoulders tense, she gripped the reins. “It’s awfully high off the ground...”
Latasha climbed onto the corral gate. “You look good up there, Miss Evy.”
Without thinking, Evy let go of the reins to push her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose. The horse sidestepped. With a quick intake of breath, she grabbed the reins again.
“Try to relax.” Sawyer stroked the horse’s head. “I’m going to lead you around the corral.” He took hold of the lead rope, and the horse moved forward.
Going rigid, she fought the urge to scream. Only just remembering she was supposed to set an example for the children. Sawyer probably believed she was the biggest ninny who’d ever lived.
She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. Why was she such a coward? Good for nothing but books. Her posture stiff, she clung to the reins as Sawyer led the horse around the corral.
Blake straddled the fence railing. “At first, I was scared, too,” he called. “Like the day I went to my first foster home. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”
Sawyer shot a look over his shoulder at Evy. That admission from Blake was huge.