by Nikki Logan
And so it began…two of the most entertaining hours he could remember having. Ellie was a natural student; she remembered every single instruction he gave her and applied it consistently. In no time Deputy was glancing to her for direction as they moved through the streets of Larkville.
Even Ellie loosened up. And that was saying something. ‘How did you learn this?’ she asked.
‘I had dogs, growing up. But the boys at the canine unit are the real specialists. I learned something new every day.’
The words were out before he even thought about it. Dangerous words.
She gently corrected Deputy when he pulled in the opposite direction and then brought her eyes back to him. ‘You worked for the canine unit?’
Sure did. Not that he usually told anyone about it. His only course now was to give her some information, but not enough. Definitely not everything. ‘I headed it up. For my last couple of years in the NYPD.’
That stopped her cold and Deputy looked back at her impatiently. She glanced at the stars on his shoulder. So, because he’d had rank in the city he was instantly more credible?
‘Changing your opinion of me?’
‘I… No. It kind of fits. I should have guessed it would be either the dogs or the mounted squad.’
It fits? Was he that much of a country hick in her eyes? ‘Both those units are sophisticated operations.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ She looked puzzled. ‘But I’m wondering why you’d trade working with dogs for working with people. Here.’
She made his old job sound so idyllic. He could hardly tell her that he’d had as little heart for his job as Deputy did at the end there. ‘More like trading a desk and filing cabinet for an SUV and a radio.’
‘You missed active duty?’
‘I missed a lot of things.’ The easy days pre-promotion—pre-politics—particularly. The days when his responsibility didn’t get people killed. ‘I like policing in the county. It’s more…personal.’
‘Sheriff…’ On cue, two older ladies nodded their elegant hairdos at him and failed miserably at disguising the curiosity they sent Ellie’s way.
He tipped his hat. ‘Miss Louisa… Miss Darcy…’
They walked on. Ellie was still looking at him sideways. She really had that New York knack of tuning out everything around her. ‘But just as political, I’m guessing.’
‘I don’t mind politics if I agree with it.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Politics is just a game. You just have to know how to play it.’
And just like that the enjoyment evaporated right out of his morning. ‘I’m not interested in playing it,’ he said flatly.
Her laugh sprinkled out across Larkville’s still-quiet streets. ‘No one likes it, Jed. You use it.’
He threw her a look. ‘Speaking from experience?’
‘Right people. Right dinners. Right connections.’ She shrugged. ‘Money follows.’
His laugh was more of a snort. ‘What does a Patterson need more money for?’
She tossed back her head and her eyes glittered. ‘Oh, you know… World domination, buying out crippled economies and selling their debt to hostile nations, that sort of thing.’
He wanted to believe that. It fitted very nicely with the picture of her he had in his head. The picture that allowed him to keep her at arm’s length. They walked on a few paces.
But he couldn’t help himself. He had to know. ‘What do you really need it for?’
Right in the corner of his eye he saw her tiny smile. She meant it to be private, but it speared him right between the ribs. He’d just pleased her.
‘I fundraise.’
‘For?’
Deputy’s jangling collar was the only sound for a few moments. ‘For research into Alzheimer’s disease.’
Ah. ‘Your father.’
Again, more silence, then her voice came lower and breathier. ‘You’d think with all the money at our disposal we could have bought him a cure, huh?’
The contrast between the very public place they were having this discussion and the incredible pain in her voice hit him low in the gut. He got the sense that it wasn’t something she usually spoke of. Just like him and his New York years. He thought about his own father—how a full police escort failed to get him to hospital quick enough, and all their departmental resources later failed to bring the shooter to justice. How he’d had to learn to live with that reality growing up. ‘It’s not always about money. Or resources.’
That was the irony. Everything else on this planet revolved around resources.
‘Well…I’m hoping that my work might make a difference to someone else’s father someday.’
Shame curdled in his belly. Her words weren’t for show or effect. Suddenly the wicked stepsister of his mind morphed into a gentle, hardworking Cinderella. He’d always considered that those on the lucky side of the privilege rat race had some kind of advantage that people on his side could only dream about. Some magical shield which meant their hands weren’t being forced every other day. To make decisions they weren’t happy with. To make compromises with the lives of others.
But all the money in the world literally couldn’t save Cedric Patterson.
He stopped and slid his hand onto her forearm. ‘Don’t give up,’ he murmured. ‘Science changes daily.’
Ellie stared down at the masculine hand on her arm as a way of avoiding the intensity she knew would be in Jed’s eyes. It was only a touch, but it stole the oxygen from her cells. She wanted so badly to believe him, believe in him. It had been so long since she’d been able to confide in anyone, and trusting Jed sort of happened by accident.
Jess Calhoun’s secret weighed on her like stocks. Would it compromise the universe if she just told one person that her father was not her father? If she tried to talk through the confusing mess of emotions that discovery had left her with? The deeper reasons as to why a stupid dog accepting her into his pack had nearly had her in tears?
She lifted her eyes and opened her mouth to try.
‘Jed! Hey. Didn’t know you were on duty today.’
A fresh-faced young woman with thick auburn hair met them in the middle of the sidewalk, greeted Jed with a brilliant smile and Deputy with a thorough scratch behind the ears. The dog’s eyes practically rolled back in his head and he leaned his full weight into her legs.
Jed’s seriousness of a moment before evaporated. ‘Sarah…’
Ellie immediately stiffened at the affection in his tone and the way he met the woman’s cheek effortlessly for a kiss. She was very friendly with both man and dog….
‘Was out on calls all night,’ he continued. ‘Heading home soon.’
Ellie stared at him. He’d been out all night? And she’d barged in at the crack of dawn. Why didn’t he say?
‘Oh, poor you.’ Her eyes drifted to Ellie. She thrust out her hand. ‘Sarah Anderson.’
‘Sarah’s born and bred in Larkville,’ Jed hurried to say, belatedly remembering his manners.
No wonder he was distracted; Sarah was a natural beauty, all willowy and classic even in running pants and sweats. Feminine curves were somewhat new to Ellie and she knew hers didn’t sit quite as well on her. She slid her hand into Sarah’s. ‘Ellie Patterson.’
‘You’re new in town?’
‘Just visiting.’ Jed said it before she had a chance to.
‘You know you’ll have seen everything Larkville has to offer by the time you’ve finished walking Deputy.’
First-name basis for the dog, too? Ellie looked from Sarah to Jed. Then she put on her best cocktail-party face. ‘It’s a beautiful town, I love the antique stores.’
‘Oh, my gosh, I know! Have you been to Time After Time down on Third? Probably Larkville’s best.’
Jed threw his hands in the air. ‘If you ladies are going to talk antiques Deputy and I might go find some breakfast…’
‘Sorry, Jed.’ Sarah laughed, then turned her focus back to Ellie. ‘If you’re in town for a
bit maybe I can introduce you around, scour the markets with you on Saturday?’
I’d like that. That’s what someone polite would say. But until she understood a bit better what Sarah’s relationship with Jed was—and until she’d examined why she cared—her personal jury was out. ‘Sure, great.’
The brunette turned her keen focus straight back onto Jed. ‘I have a favor to ask. I’ve taken on the volunteer coordination for the Fall Festival and I’m looking for extra hands.’ Before Jed could take more than a breath she barrelled on. ‘I know you have your hands full in the lead up to the event with permits and stuff but I’m thinking more…nowish…to help with the planning. Darcy and Louisa have withdrawn their services given the unpleasantness over last year’s bread bake. I’m caught short.’
‘Unpleasantness?’ Ellie risked.
‘They didn’t win,’ Sarah answered, in perfect sync with Jed. ‘How about it?’
‘What would I be signing up for?’ he hedged.
‘Don’t suppose you know what a Gantt chart is?’
Jed’s blank stare said it all. ‘Something you use to measure fish?’
The laugh shot out of Ellie before she could restrain it. Both sets of eyes turned on her.
‘Okay, Manhattan, what’s a Gantt chart?’ he challenged.
‘A project-planning tool. Helps you to schedule your resources. Project your timeline.’
Sarah stared at her like she’d grown enormous, iridescent wings.
Awkwardness cranked up Ellie’s spine. ‘I used it for fundraising,’ she muttered.
‘Do you have project-planning experience?’ Raw hope blazed in Sarah’s eyes.
‘I’m only visiting.’ Except that wasn’t strictly true. She had no fixed return date. And she was going to get bored with nothing to do…
A deep voice pitched in. ‘Bet the two of you would get a lot done in two weeks.’
She threw Jed a baleful look.
‘Could you?’ Sarah only got prettier as excited colour stained her cheeks. ‘We’d probably get a month’s worth done.’
But Ellie’s natural reticence bubbled to the fore. She barely knew Sarah. ‘This was supposed to be a holiday…’
‘Jed!’ Sarah flung her focus back on the suddenly wary-looking sheriff. ‘Jed will make up for any time you lose helping Larkville pull its Fall Festival together. He can show you the highlights after work. Introduce you to people.’
‘Oh, can I?’
Sarah trundled right over his half-hearted protest. ‘And you’ll meet people on this project, too.’
That’s exactly what she was afraid of. Just because she schmoozed and smiled in the ballrooms of Manhattan didn’t mean she enjoyed it. She was kind of happiest on her own.
Jed didn’t look all that pleased about it, either. ‘Sarah…I think Ellie—’
‘Okay, look, my final offer. One week, a few hours a day, and I will personally teach you to line dance. Texan dancing lessons from a real Texan. What do you say?’
Should she tell her that she’d danced for the joint heads of state in her time?
But Sarah’s enthusiasm was infectious. And there really weren’t enough stores in Larkville to keep her amused for long. And how hard could a fall festival be after some of the top-line soirees she’d pulled off since giving up dance?
‘Okay, one week…’
That’s as far as she got. Sarah squealed and threw her arms around Ellie’s stiff shoulders and then did the same with Jed. He didn’t look like he hated it, particularly. But—interestingly—neither did Ellie. And that was quite something for someone uncomfortable with being touched.
‘How can I contact you?’ Sarah rushed.
‘She’s at the Alamo.’
Sarah’s eyes said oh, really? but out loud she just said, ‘I’ll come for you early Saturday morning. We can strategise after we’ve stripped the markets bare of antiques.’
‘Sounds great.’ Every breath she took was one further away from anonymity. First the sheriff and now Sarah.
The awkwardest of silences fell and Sarah’s focus darted around them before returning. ‘Have you heard from Nate, Jed?’
Even Ellie could read between those innocent words—see through the bright, casual smile—and she’d never met Sarah before. To his credit, Jed answered as if she’d just asked him the time. ‘Not since the funeral. No news is good news when it comes to the military.’
‘I guess.’ A deep shadow ghosted over her dark eyes. ‘Well, Deputy’s going to pull Ellie’s arm off if I don’t let you two get going. See you Saturday, Ellie? Take care, Jed.’
They farewelled Sarah and she jogged off, continuing her run.
‘Thank you for helping Sarah out.’
Ellie shrugged. ‘I’m going to need something to do with my time. Might as well throw a party, right?’ She hoped she wasn’t as transparent as Sarah had just been. She really wasn’t in the mood for celebrations. ‘You don’t need to give up your time to show me around. I’m happy to help, no strings attached.’
‘I don’t mind doing my bit. I like Sarah, she’s had a rough time these past few years.’
She studied him closer. Liked Sarah or liked Sarah? But the thoughtful glance he threw down the street after her had nothing more than compassion in it. Rough times were something she could definitely empathise with. Maybe that’s why she’d felt so instantly connected to the bubbly brunette.
‘Breakfast?’ Jed hinted. The second mention in as many minutes. ‘Gracie will let us eat out in her courtyard with Deputy.’
Did all country towns revolve around the social nexus of food? She lifted her chin. ‘Sure. I’d love a coffee.’
‘I should warn you, Gracie’s coffees come with obligatory berry flapjacks midweek.’
Great.
She glanced at Deputy. Maybe she could sneak hers to him. He’d be a willing accomplice for sure.
* * *
Jed wasn’t kidding about the flapjacks. They didn’t order them but a steaming stack came, nonetheless, and no one else around them looked the slightest bit surprised as theirs were delivered.
Ellie stared in dismay at the fragrant pile. ‘Are they free?’
Jed laughed. ‘Nope. Standing order. Flapjacks on weekdays, full fry-up on the weekends. Gracie believes in promoting her specialties.’
And reaping the profits. Gracie May had a fantastic sales angle going here, and the locals clearly thought it was charming. ‘Nice scam,’ she muttered.
Jed laughed. ‘Totally.’
She selected herself the smallest of the fluffy discs and spooned some fresh, unsweetened berries onto it. Jed heaped his plate high. ‘Come on, Ellie. You can’t function all day on that.’
He might be amazed how little a body could function on, although—to be fair—it never was proper functioning. ‘I’m not exactly going to be burning it off strolling Larkville’s streets.’
He watched her as he chewed his first big mouthful. She sliced her pancake into eight identically proportioned strips and then folded the first one carefully onto her fork and then into her mouth. Ignoring his interest the whole time.
‘You eat like a New Yorker,’ he said as soon as he was able.
He didn’t mean that to be an insult. He couldn’t know what it really meant to survive in the world of professional dancing. ‘When I was dancing I would have probably just had the berries.’ If she had anything at all.
‘Seriously? On the kind of stresses you must have put your body through?’
‘Dancing’s a competitive industry. We all did whatever we could to find that balance between strength and leanness.’ Smoking. Exercising.
Starving.
Jed nudged the half-ravaged stack towards her. ‘Live a little.’
Ten years ago she might have literally recoiled as a plate of food was shoved towards her like that. Sitting calmly in the face of it was extraordinary progress and knowing that bolstered her confidence. Every day she was reminded how far she’d come. And she was proud o
f it, given she’d done it practically alone. But this was going to keep coming up if she didn’t head it off at the pass.
She took a deep breath. ‘Food and I have a…complicated relationship.’
That stopped the fork halfway to his mouth. ‘Meaning?’
‘I’ve taught myself to look at food purely as fuel for my body. As the total sum of all its nutritional parts.’
He glanced at the pancake pile. Then back at her. ‘You don’t like food?’
She smiled. ‘I like good food, but I don’t eat it because it’s good. I eat it—just what I need of it—because it’s nutritious.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you one of those organic, bio-birthed, grown-in-a-vacuum kind of people?’
She laughed and it felt so good. Most people wouldn’t speak so casually about this. ‘I actually don’t mind where it comes from as long as it’s good food.’
‘Healthy?’
‘Bio-available.’
‘To your body?’
‘Correct.’
She’d never felt less understood. Sigh. But it wasn’t from a lack of willingness on his part.
‘That is complicated.’
‘I know.’
‘Does your whole family eat like that?’
‘No.’
‘So where did it come from? I’m interested.’
Was he? Or was he sitting in judgment? Sincerity bled steadily from his gaze. But talking about her past wasn’t easy for her.
She pushed her plate away. ‘I had a few problems, when I was younger. Part of my treatment was to come to terms with the role food plays in our lives.’
The policeman in him instantly grew intrigued. She saw it in the sudden keenness of his expression. But the gentleman won out. He let it go. ‘And you came to the conclusion that food is only about nutrition?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s its primary function, in nature. Cows don’t eat straw because it tastes good, they eat it because it’s what their bodies need to run on. It’s fuel.’
Excellent, a cowboy analogy. Way to condescend, there, Ellie!
But he didn’t bite. ‘You don’t think a steer would appreciate the sweet tips of spring shoots more than old summer grass?’