From that point on, he dedicated himself to the job of being town sheriff and saw to it that he was a dutiful son, as well. Cole figured he’d either eventually work Ronnie out of his system, or become a confirmed bachelor.
These last few months, he’d begun to think that he was finally coming around, accepting what his life had become.
A lot he knew, Cole thought sarcastically. If he was on the road to being “cured,” what the hell was he doing having another damn hallucination?
Only one way to battle this, he decided, and that was to walk in, see who Ed was really talking to and be done with all this racing pulse nonsense.
With that, Cole pulled his key out of the truck’s ignition.
Tucking the key into the breast pocket of his shirt, he shifted in his seat and opened the driver’s side door. He got out and walked the short distance to the Livestock Feed Emporium. Cole deliberately avoided glancing in through the window, giving himself a moment to prepare for the inevitable disappointment.
He opened the door to the store. The same tiny silver bell, somewhat tarnished now, that had hung there for fifty years, announcing the arrival or departure of a customer, sounded now, heralding his crossing the store’s threshold.
Cole’s deep blue eyes swept over the rustic store with its polished, heavily scuffed old wooden floors. Ed took pride in the fact that the store looked exactly the way it had back in his grandfather’s day when Josiah Haney opened the Emporium’s doors for the first time. The only actual concession that had been made to modern times was when the original cash register had finally given up the ghost. Ed had been forced to replace it with a computerized register since manual ones were nowhere to be found anymore.
The air had turned blue for more than a week until Ed had finally learned—thanks to the efforts of his incredibly patient grandson—how to operate the “dang infernal machine.”
The store was empty. Even Ed didn’t seem to be around. The man was probably in the back, getting something—
Okay, Cole thought, relieved and disappointed at the same time, the way he always was when a mirage faded. She wasn’t here.
It had been just his imagination, just the way it always was. Just the way—
And then he heard it. Just as he turned back toward the door to leave, he heard it.
Heard her.
He froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as the sound of her voice pierced his consciousness. Skewered his soul.
Taunted him.
Almost afraid to look, Cole forced himself to turn around again. When he did, he was just in time to see the owner turning a corner and walking down an aisle. He was returning to his counter at the front of the store.
He was also talking to someone. A visible someone. He was talking to a woman.
And that woman was Ronnie.
Ed Haney’s round face appeared almost cherubic as he continued conferring. He seemed to be beaming as he bobbed his head with its ten wisps of hair up and down.
Ronnie McCloud returned the shop owner’s smile. “I’ll tell Dad you were asking after him.”
Ed was doing more than just asking after the rancher’s health and he wanted her to be clear about that. “Tell Amos that if there’s anything I can do to help, anything at all, he shouldn’t let that damn pride of his get in the way. All he has to do is say the word. I want to help. We all do,” Ed emphasized, then said in a conspiratorial voice, “There was really no need for you to have to come back here, although I have to say it surely is a pleasure seeing you again, Veronica. You’ve become one beautiful young woman, and if I was twenty years younger—well, no need to elaborate.” He chuckled. “You get my meaning.”
Veronica McCloud laughed. “Yes, I do.” He was teasing her. But he meant the other thing, the part about offering his help. Edwin Haney, a man she had grown up knowing, was a man of integrity—even if he did remind her a little of Humpty Dumpty. He meant what he said. About himself and about the others. The one thing she could never fault this town for was indifference.
The citizens of Redemption were anything but indifferent. So much so that at times they seemed to be into everybody else’s business. A private person didn’t stand a chance in Redemption. The people wore you down, had you spilling your innermost secrets before you could ever think to stop yourself.
She knew they meant it in the very best possible way, but when she’d been younger, she felt that it was an in vasion, a violation of her rights. She’d wanted to be her own person, someone who made up her mind without the benefit of committee input or an ongoing, running commentary.
She wanted more than Redemption had to offer.
Even so, she had to admit, especially at a trying time like this, it was nice to know that there were people her father could count on. God knew he was going to need them once she left and went back home again, she thought. Her new home, she emphasized, since this had been home once.
“Hi, Sheriff, what can I do for you?” Ed’s voice broke into her thoughts as he addressed someone just behind her.
Ronnie smiled. The sheriff. That would be Paul Royce. He had to be, what? Seventy now? Older?
Remembering the gregarious man’s jovial countenance, Ronnie turned around, a greeting at the ready on her smiling lips.
The greeting froze.
She wasn’t looking up at Sheriff Paul Royce and his shining coal-black eyes. She found herself looking directly into the new sheriff’s blue ones. And suddenly wishing, with all her heart, that she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But she wasn’t.
She was right here, looking into deep blue eyes she used to find hypnotic, her mind a complete, utter useless blank.
“Hello, Ronnie.”
Chapter Two
As she was driving to Redemption, Ronnie had told herself that she would have more time before she had to face him. Instead, Cole had appeared out of the blue, and she was so not ready for their paths to cross.
Who was she kidding? There wasn’t enough time in the world for her to prepare for this first meeting after so much time had passed.
And, damn it, Cole wasn’t helping any. Not looking the way he did. This harsh land had a terrible habit of taking its toll on people, on its men as well as its women. So why wasn’t he worn-out looking?
Why wasn’t Cole at least growing the beginnings of a gut like so many other men who were barely thirty years old?
Heaven knew that her father looked like he was coming up on eighty instead of being in his early sixties. And the last time she’d seen her older brother, Wayne, the land had already begun to leave its stamp on him, tanning his skin—especially his face—the way that tanners cured leather.
Not that there weren’t any changes with Cole. But those changes only seemed to be for the better. Cole had lost that pretty boy look he’d once had—although his eyelashes appeared to be as long as ever. But now there was the look of a man about him, rather than a boy. A lean, muscular man whose facial features had somehow gone from sweet to chiseled.
In either case, his face still made her heart skip a beat before launching into double time.
No, that hadn’t changed any no matter how much she’d tried to convince herself that it would.
Oh, but so many other things had changed. Her whole world had changed and it wasn’t because she’d gone on to college, or gotten a business degree, or now worked in one of the larger, more prestigious advertising firms in Seattle. It also had nothing to do with her carefully decorated high-rise apartment in the shadow of the Space Needle and everything to do with the little boy who lived in it with her.
Christopher, the little boy she hadn’t wanted to bring to Redemption with her, but knew she had to. Leaving her son behind with the woman who looked after him every day after kindergarten was not an option. Oh, Naomi had even volunteered to have him stay with her for the duration, saying she would be more than happy to do it. Heaven knew that the woman was very good with Christopher and Christopher liked Naomi. But there w
as no way she was going to leave her son behind, especially since she really wasn’t sure exactly how long she would be gone.
The occasional overnight trips that her company sent her on were one thing. Christopher thought of it as “camping out” when he stayed at Naomi’s house. But an open-ended trip like this one promised to be was something else entirely. So she had brought the five-year-old with her, hoping that his presence would somehow help to rally her father’s alarmingly low spirits.
Meanwhile, Ronnie was struggling to do her best and ignore the stress that having Christopher here with her in Redemption inadvertently generated.
The one thing she clung to was that the boy looked like her.
And not like his father.
Forcing a smile to her lips, Ronnie waited half a beat while the rest of the surrounding area pulled itself out of the encroaching darkness and slowly came back into focus.
She couldn’t wait until her knees came back from their semiliquid state. If she took too long to respond, Cole would be able to see the effect he still had on her. And that was the very last thing in the world she wanted.
It was bad enough that he probably suspected as much. She didn’t want to confirm the impression.
So she forced a smile to her lips and returned his greeting. “Hello, Cole.”
Her eyes slid down to take in the shiny piece of metal pinned to the khaki-colored, long-sleeved shirt that Cole wore. Had her father mentioned this development to her in one of his visits to Seattle? She couldn’t remember but she really didn’t think so. She would have remembered if he had.
In a rare display of sensitivity, her father went out of his way to avoid all references to Cole whenever they talked. He never even asked if Cole was the father of his grandson. Amos McCloud was a firm believer that everyone was entitled to their privacy. It was basically a policy of don’t ask, don’t tell. She didn’t ask and her father didn’t tell—even though there were times when she ached to know what Cole was doing these days.
She still didn’t ask. Because if her father had said that Cole had gotten married, or worse, gotten married and started a family, the news would have sliced through her heart like the sharp blade of a cutlass. No, not knowing anything was the far better way for her to go.
But that had left her entirely unprepared for this first encounter.
Ronnie struggled against the feeling that her soul was suddenly completely exposed.
“So, you’re the town sheriff now,” she acknowledged pleasantly, silently congratulating herself on being able to mask all the feelings that rushed to the surface. “When did that happen?”
Cole’s reply was sparsely worded. Just long enough to get the answer across. “Four years ago. The old sheriff got sick. Decided he needed to be someplace warmer. Nobody would take the job, so I did.” He punctuated the final sentence with a careless half shrug.
She could feel every one of his movements echoing inside of her. Get a grip, Ronnie, or you’re going to blow this.
“He’s being modest,” Ed told her, cutting in. “The whole town took a vote when Paul left and just about everyone cast their ballot for Cole here. Couldn’t ask for a better sheriff, either,” Ed said, beaming his approval in the town’s choice. “Painfully honest, this boy. Won’t even take a cup of coffee when it’s offered to him at the diner without paying for it.” Ed chuckled as he shook his head, his wide waist undulating ever so slightly as he did so. “Gives graft a bad name, Cole does.” And then the Emporium owner sobered just a shade. “We’re all lucky to have him here.”
Ronnie looked at Cole for a long moment. She could see why Ed and the other citizens of Redemption would feel that way. Something about Cole exuded strength.
That had always been the case.
Having him in a position of authority allowed people to sleep better at night, she imagined. He made them feel safe. She had certainly felt that way when she was with him. Right up until the end. But then, the threat had come from her own feelings at that point, not from him.
“Where else would he be?” she asked quietly. She’d meant her question to have a touch of humor in it, but it had come out deadly serious. “He never wanted to be anyplace but here.”
To the outside observer, the comment seemed to be addressed to the shop owner. But her eyes never left Cole’s.
His eyes were still hypnotic, she thought. Even after all this time, they hadn’t lost their ability to pull her in. To make her long for things that just didn’t have a prayer of working out.
In the end, that last turbulent summer where they seemed to argue all the time, it came down to a matter of the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. She wanted him to leave Redemption, to test his wings and fly away with her, and he wanted her to stay with him. Wanted her to start a life with him in earnest.
So, he had stayed and she had gone.
But not before taking a part of Cole James along with her.
And that, along with the radio silence that followed, was something she knew Cole would never forgive her for. There wasn’t any point in thinking about it, or any of her reasons—good reasons—for having done what she had.
Forcing herself to look away, Ronnie turned her attention back to Ed. “So, you’ll deliver the order to the ranch today?” she asked, referring to the items she had just paid for.
“I’ll get on it right away,” Ed promised. “You’ll have it by this afternoon.” He beamed at her, his brown eyes regarding her kindly. “Nice seeing you again, Veronica. You do your father proud.”
Ronnie inclined her head, feeling a little embarrassed by the compliment. “Family does what it has to do,” was all she said, deflecting any further words of praise.
Right now, all she wanted to do was get back into her car and drive away. Quickly. Before her knees melted away altogether.
Cole surprised her by asking, “Mind if I walk you out?”
The words sounded so formal, so stilted. So unlike anything that had ever been exchanged between them before, even going back to the time when they were kids. She couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t known one another.
And now, now they were just strangers, feeling awkward in each other’s presence.
Strangers with a past.
If she wanted to get through this with her sanity intact, she would have to treat Cole James the way she treated a client. Politely, competently, but always with preset boundaries.
Never once had she mixed business with her private life. Mainly because her private life was all about Christopher.
“Of course not,” she finally replied. “I wouldn’t want to say no to the sheriff.”
This time the smile that rose to her lips came of its own accord. The idea of Cole being the sheriff of the town they had grown up in just didn’t seem real to her. It was more like something they would pretend in one of their elaborate games.
Cole opened the door for her and held it. The bell just above the door rang softly, ushering them out.
She barely heard it, listening instead to the sound of her heart pounding.
Breathe, Ronnie, breathe. You knew he was going to be around.
The thing was, she’d expected him to be on his ranch. Which cut the chances of running into him down rather drastically.
“What happened to you being a rancher?” she asked him.
“Town needed a sheriff,” Cole said. “And my mother got a really good man to help her run the ranch,” he added. After a moment, he shrugged. “I still help out once in a while, during branding season, if Will’s shorthanded.”
Ronnie tried to put a face with the first name. “Will?”
“Will Jeffers,” he clarified. “The man my mother hired to help run the ranch after…” Cole’s voice trailed off for a moment, his discomfort with the topic more than mildly evident.
Ronnie pressed her lips together. She hadn’t meant to inadvertently dredge up a painful subject for him. Cole’s father had died suddenly last year, coming down with and succum
bing so quickly to ALS no one even knew what was happening until it was almost all over. Her father had told her about that last night, after she’d put Christopher to bed.
“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” Ronnie said haltingly.
She had to stifle the urge to put her hand on his shoulder, to communicate with Cole the way she used to, with a simple look, a touch. They’d had their own unique way of “speaking” without words once. Back when the world was new and their paths hadn’t diverged so very sharply and far apart.
“Yeah, well, these things happen,” Cole replied, his voice distant as he made an attempt to shrug off her sympathy.
He didn’t want sympathy from Ronnie. He didn’t want anything at all from her.
And then he made the mistake of looking directly at her again.
Cole could almost feel her getting under his skin, shaking his world down to its foundations. Just the way she always used to. Searching for some way to distract himself, he asked, “When did you get in?”
What went unsaid was that he was surprised that he hadn’t heard about her arrival. Redemption was a small town and most information became general knowledge within the space of a few hours. Usually less.
“Late last night. My father didn’t even let me know about the accident until just two days ago.” When she’d received the call from her father, she’d known, the moment she heard his voice, that something was terribly, terribly wrong. She vaguely remembered sinking onto the sofa, both hands wrapped around the receiver to keep it from dropping to the floor as she listened to her father tell her about the accident.
He told her about Wayne being in a coma. The moment she’d hung up, she’d galvanized into action. Calling the company where she worked, she cited a family emergency and put in for a leave of absence. Then, packing up everything she thought she would need, she’d strapped Christopher into his car seat and then drove straight from Seattle to Redemption, covering close to six hundred miles in just a little over nine hours.
Montana Sheriff Page 2