The Widow of Papina

by Katie Hamstead

  Sarah froze, her eyes widening.

  Paul’s hand fell from my back.

  “Are these your friends?” her date asked, smiling.

  “Y-yes.” Sarah forced a smile. “That’s my best friend, Bray, and that’s Paul.”

  Her date rushed forward offering me his hand. “So, you’re Bray. Sarah’s told me so much about you.”

  I took his hand. “Oh, I hope all good things.”

  “She says you’re the bravest person she knows.”

  My cheeks warmed.

  “And, we’re done here.” She grabbed his arm. “It’s an hour back to Bearville so we should go.”

  “Yes, don’t want to waste any time.” He smiled down at her.

  His keen interest reflected in his eyes. I waved to them as I left, and muttered to myself, “Please don’t screw it up, Sarah.”

  Paul chuckled.

  I glanced up at him. “What?”

  “I heard that.”

  I grunted.

  His face fell ever so slightly. “Best friends, huh?”

  I sighed and pushed the stroller. “She thinks so.”

  He hurried up beside me. “But, you don’t?”

  I shrugged. “My last best friend set a pretty high standard.”

  He looped his thumbs through his belt. “He did, didn’t he?”

  I huffed. “Let’s not talk about it. I’m trying to focus on happy things. Jackson will start noticing soon—if he hasn’t already—that I get sad a lot. I need to be more positive.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good.”

  We arrived at the park and I went to unbuckle Jackson. He screamed and pushed me off. I paused, surprised. “Don’t you want to play?”

  He looked up at Paul with wide, watery eyes as his chin quivered.

  “I guess he wants you.” I stepped back.

  Paul squatted over and Jackson’s face lit up.

  I sat on a park bench as Paul helped him around the play area. My conflicted feeling swelled inside me, until I had to look away.

  Chapter 19

  Sarah came by the next day. I met her eagerly, wanting to hear the details of her date. I pulled her out into the yard where we planned to garden and immediately asked, “So, what happened last night?”

  Her gaze fell as she blushed. “He was nice.”

  “Nice?” I dumped the tools down in the flower bed. “Just nice? He was good looking, and seemed very eager.”

  “Hmm.” She pulled on a pair of gloves.

  “Sarah?”

  She sighed as she picked at a weed. “It’s just . . . he wasn’t . . . ” She turned bright red. “He wasn’t Paul.”

  My heart sank, but I refused to let it show. “Of course not. It doesn’t mean he wasn’t worth giving a chance.”

  She flashed me a fierce look. “Are you trying to push me away from Paul?”

  I leaned back in shock. “What? No, it’s not that. I just—”

  “Because, I saw the way he looked at you and touched you.”

  Heat erupted in my cheeks. “No, Sarah. There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Good. Because, I saw that he was jealous when he saw me with Ryan. He’ll realize soon enough.” She jabbed a spade into the dirt.

  “Really?” How could I tell her she was holding onto false hope?

  She jumped up and yanked off the gloves. “Stop it, Bray.”

  I stared up at her. “Stop what?”

  “What kind of a friend goes after the guy her best friend is in love with?”

  My eyes widened as my jaw fell. “What?”

  “I gave him everything. He’ll come back to me eventually. So, stop using him as a rebound.”

  “Whoa, slow down there.” I climbed to my feet to look her in the eyes. “Number one, I’m not into Paul.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  “Number two, I’m not using him as a rebound.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Sarah!” I slumped, exasperated. “You’re acting crazy. I’m just trying to be supportive and ask you about your date, who was a freaking hottie and really into you, and you blow up at me.”

  She folded her arms and pouted. “Well, he isn’t anymore.”

  “Why?”

  She growled. “I don’t know! Every guy seems to lose interest after a date or two.”

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not super model pretty probably.”

  I groaned. “That has nothing to do with anything. If they didn’t think you were attractive, they wouldn’t ask you out in the first place.”

  Her eyes narrowed on me. “Well then, Miss Experienced, what do you think I’m doing wrong?”

  “I wasn’t there, how am I supposed to know?”

  She sneered at me, rolling her eyes

  “How about you recount what happened.”

  She looked me over. “Well, the car ride was fine. When we arrived at the restaurant, he asked me about you and Paul. He seemed interested at first, but after a while, his eyes seemed to glaze over.”

  “What do you mean by ‘a while’?”

  “I don’t know, we’d finished the entrée . . . ”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How much did you talk about Paul?”

  She shifted and stared at her feet.

  “Really?”

  “Ahh . . .”

  “Sarah, you didn’t.”

  She huffed.

  “No wonder.”

  She shrugged. “If they can’t like me as I am—”

  “It’s not a matter of liking you as you are. You talk about another man, extensively!”

  She walked toward the gate.

  “Sarah!”

  “I don’t need you lecturing me!” she yelled. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m going to end up with Paul.”

  She slammed the gate shut behind her.

  I rested my hands on my hips, scowling. No wonder Megan found her frustrating.

  ~ ~ ~

  I sat in the courtroom as the jury took their seats. Nova sat with the defense attorney, keeping her gaze low and shoulders slumped.

  The judge entered, and the proceedings began.

  Throughout the day, different townspeople came and went. Just after midday, Megan took Jackson so he could go home and take a nap.

  But, I never left. I struggled to keep up with the proceedings as horrific scenarios for Forrest’s death were recounted, cross examined, dissected, and finally torn to shreds.

  Several witnesses from the tribe came and spoke in their language as a translator interpreted for us, saying how terrible and wild Nova was and how they had no doubt she did it. Several said they saw her leave with Forrest the day he died.

  All I could do was stare. Numbness swallowed me up. Everything really did point right at Nova.

  When the day came to an end, the guards led her out the back so the jury wouldn’t see her leave with me. Apparently, it would make the situation look questionable.

  We drove home in silence, and she plodded upstairs to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  Megan appeared from the kitchen. “How did it go?”

  I groaned and collapsed on the couch. “Terrible. Everything really does point at Nova and it just breaks my heart. I just know it wasn’t her.”

  She brushed her hand across my forehead. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  I shook my head. “No. I think I’ll have nightmares of everything going wrong and Nova being taken away. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait here until you come back.”

  I didn’t bother changing out of my skirt and blo
use. I just pulled off my heels and traded them for a pair of flip flops.

  I walked briskly, heading nowhere in particular. I just needed to move and think about something else after being stuck inside the courthouse all day. But, my mind kept going back to Nova and how guilty the case made her look. Except, it couldn’t be Nova. As much as my head told me everything said she did it, my gut told me otherwise. I found myself in a raging internal battle, not sure what to believe anymore.

  I did know one thing, though: Nova needed me to believe in her.

  I turned up Main Street and saw all the shops closing. I hurried along, waving to people as they called to me, but not for one moment slowing down. I reached the park by Town Hall, and again pressed my forehead against the warm flagpole. I’m sure I looked like I’d lost it to the shop owners as they passed by on their way home, but I really didn’t care. The warmth of the metal felt good against my throbbing head.

  When I realized how dark it had become, I straightened and glanced around. The street was completely abandoned, and for the first time ever, I felt afraid. What if Forrest’s murderer still lurked the streets, waiting to get me, too?

  I gasped and ran for the Sheriff Station.

  I burst in, making Paul jump. He stared across at me from behind his desk, his jaw hanging. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes . . . ” I panted. “No.” I collapsed onto a chair by the door. “I scared myself.”

  He grinned, standing to lean over his desk. “How?”

  I draped my arm over my face. “It’s dark outside, and I was thinking about Nova and how I refuse to believe she killed Forrest, when I thought that maybe the murderer is waiting to get me.”

  Paul walked toward the coffee maker. “I doubt that. It was definitely a crime of passion.”

  “But . . . ” I sucked on my lip as he headed toward me with a hot chocolate.

  “You’re weaning, right? So, coffee is still bad?”

  I gave him a quick smile. “Hot chocolate late summer?” I shrugged and skulled it down.

  He smirked. “Better?”

  I stood. “A little, but I’m still . . . ” I sighed and walked over to the trash, dropping the empty cup in the bin. “What if all along I’ve been wrong and Nova did do it? What if they were having an affair? If it’s all true I don’t know . . . ” I groaned. “It would mean I didn’t know my husband at all, and I love the girl who stole him away from me. Or, what if the prosecutors are all right, and he rejected her so she killed him out of jealous rage? But then, if that were the case, she’s faking how she feels about me, and maybe she’s just biding her time to take Jackson or something and I just—”

  He covered my mouth. “You know Nova, and you knew Forrest better than anyone. Don’t let the lawyers get into your head. These things are all about twisting the evidence to fit their theories, so while the prosecution works to prove Nova’s guilt, the defense will do all they can to prove her innocent.”

  “The prosecution wants me to be their prime witness. They want to use me to . . . ” My face fell into my hands as I cried. “I can’t do this anymore! I just want to know the truth, the real truth. Everything they say and do just confuses me. I feel so lost sitting in there.”

  “You don’t have to be there every day,” he said, pulling my hands from my face. “There are some days which will be so dry you’ll find yourself counting the dots on the carpet.”

  “I can’t not be there.”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know. But, I think everyone will understand if you take some days off to be with Jackson.”

  I shut my eyes and nodded.

  His thumb brushed my tears away.

  I leaned into his hand, taking in its warmth. I grasped his wrist, holding his hand firmly against my face. He shuffled closer and kissed my forehead. I sighed and clutched his shirt. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest.

  He took a sharp, surprised breath, but held me tightly in his arms. “Bray?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t cry.”

  I clung tighter to him. “Just hold me.”

  He held me tighter, stroking my hair.

  I held him, and suddenly became acutely aware that my hands pressed right against his back. They wandered upward, feeling his strong back and shoulders.

  He clasped my face, and our eyes met.

  “Paul, I . . . ”

  He bent down and kissed me.

  I moaned, a wave of adrenalin surging through my body. I threw my arms around his neck, pushing up against him.

  He stumbled back and hit his desk. Lifting me up, he wrapped my legs around his waist.

  I didn’t care that my knee length skirt now sat around my hips, all I cared about was how good his large hands felt as they stroked my thighs. I pulled at his shirt, making him kiss me harder. He moaned as he leaned into me. I unbuttoned his first few buttons and nibbled on his neck. My fingertips found his chest hairs, making him shudder and release a quivering breath.

  “Braydon.”

  He nuzzled into my ear, kissing it as he pulled my blouse free of the skirt. His hands found their way onto my skin and I gasped, goose bumps rippling up my back. He must have felt them, because his fingers stroked my skin, intensifying the sensation.

  But then, his hands ran over my stretch mark ridden hips, and I leaned back. “What am I doing?”

  His hand lifted and ran down my neck. “Letting me love you.”

  I swore loudly and pulled free. I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips. “I can’t do this! I don’t even know if my feelings for you are real, or a desperate need for affection causing me to rebound my feelings onto you. I can’t do that to you.”

  He leaned back on the desk, his hair tussled and his shirt hanging open. “Really?”

  “Yes.” But, my gaze fell to his chest, left exposed by his open top buttons. My impulses took over and my hand lifted to touch it.

  He smirked. “Really?”

  “Mmm.” My skin burned, my gaze lifting to look into his. “I just . . . I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He lunged at me. He pulled at my blouse as I stumbled back. He spun me around, pushing me backward and pinned me against the wall behind his desk. I gasped, our eyes never breaking their gaze. His left hand ran down and caught my waist as his right hand caressed my face.

  My heart pounded. “We can’t . . . hmm.” His breath on my lips made my heart flutter.

  “Can’t we?”

  “No.”

  He leaned in and his lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “You don’t seem to be resisting.”

  I moaned, my whole body tingling as his pressed against mine. How did the polite, unassuming sheriff, suddenly turn into the passionate and sexually aggressive Paul?

  He bit my ear, making me groan and cling to him. That felt so good! I shuddered, my desires awakening after months of suppression. I ran my hand over his muscular shoulders, driving myself wild. He caught my chin and kissed me firmly. I clasped his face, taking in his taste, his warmth, the ferocity of feelings passing through us.

  He grabbed my thighs and wrapped my legs back around him, spinning me around. He ran me into the filing cabinet, making a loud crash as the stationary on top tumbled to the ground. He pulled back and glanced around before swinging me and dumping me on the edge of his desk.

  I clenched him tightly between my legs, necking him as he cleared the desk. He then pushed me onto my back and climbed on top, kissing me again as he ground into me.

  “Ouch, your gun . . . ”

  He sat up and yanked off his holster before pinning me back down. I grabbed his hair and pulled him into the kiss again. His lips were incredible. The way he kissed sent chills through my body. Where did this Paul come from? I grabbed his butt, yearning
for him as his tongue stroked mine. My back arched, and he responded by rubbing harder against me.

  My hormones pumped through my body, driving me wild, but a thought struck me. Sarah loved him. What was I doing? I pushed him back. “Stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, I can’t do this.”

  “Really?”

  “We’re . . . we’re . . . ” I stared at his pale blue eyes. But, I loved him. I did love him! I grabbed his collar. “Screw it. No one will know.”

  He smirked and kissed me again.

  His right hand slipped under my skirt and found my panties.

  A shriek filled my ears. Paul leapt off me and I shot up. Sarah stood at the door, her chest heaving. “Bray!”

  “Sarah.” I jumped to my feet, pulling my skirt down. “Let me—”

  “Paul, what are you doing?”

  He grabbed my arm. “Sarah, I don’t want to hurt you. We’ve known each other so long that we’re practically family.”

  She swore as tears traced down her cheeks. “Braydon, how could you do this to me?”

  “She didn’t do anything to you,” he said. “We’ve just . . . ”

  She hurried out the door, loud sobs echoing down the street.

  Guilt swept over me. “I should go.”

  I hurried toward the door.

  “Bray.” He rushed after me and caught my arm. “Give us a chance.”

  “A chance?” I sighed. “I want to, I do, but with Sarah and Forrest and Nova . . . ” I shook my head and rubbed the tears away. “I’m not ready.”

  I pushed him off, and rushed out.

  “Bray!”

  Sarah disappeared around the corner and I hurried after her. I found her unlocking her car and ran at her. “Sarah, let me—”

  “Typical city slut!” she screamed at me. “I should have known you’d stab me in the back. You’re so selfish. You had to go after him, didn’t you? You had an amazing thing with Forrest, and now you’re trying to steal my chance for that, too.”