by Loree Lough
Nate couldn’t help being curious. “You name the time and place.”
“Tom’s Diner, nine o’clock?”
He’d have to rearrange a few things, but it would work. “Nine sounds good.”
“Great. And let’s keep this on the down-low,” Stuart said. “At least for the time being.”
The following morning, Nate chose a table near the window at Tom’s. Stuart was right on time, and in uniform.
“’Mornin’,” he said, sliding into the booth. He got the waitress’s attention. “Hey, Tammy. Could we get some coffee over here?”
“Thought you had the day off,” Nate remarked.
“I did, but a buddy’s wife went into labor. It’ll be me in his boots someday, I hope. And you know what they say about karma.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m glad you could meet me, ’cause I’ve been wondering how much Eden told you about our past.”
“I know you lost your parents at a young age. That’s about it.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised. “She didn’t tell you why I became a cop?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. Neither of us talks about it much. Except on the anniversary…”
Stuart’s shoulder radio hissed and crackled, and he turned down the volume. “Don’t tell Eden, but I’ve signed on with the Denver PD. Put a down payment on a house right next door to Pinewood. It’s in foreclosure, so it’ll be a while before I can move in.” He held up one hand. “I know, I know,” he said, “you think it’s weird that I didn’t tell her. I just didn’t want her wigging out, you know, while I’m still assigned to District 3.”
“Whoa. Rough neighborhood.”
“One of the roughest. But I’m taking the detective’s test soon. If I pass, I’ll be reassigned. But I digress.”
Their parents had been at a dinner party, Stuart explained, came home early and surprised a burglar, who killed them both. It took years for the cops to find the killer. Soon as he was old enough, he joined the Baltimore police force, hoping to help with the search. Eventually, after the killer was arrested during an armed robbery, a savvy public defender found a loophole in the case, and the guy served two years instead of the double life sentence he’d earned. Furious and frustrated, Stuart needed to get away from all of that, so he moved to Colorado and hired on with the Boulder police force…and started making risky decisions, such as volunteering to go undercover; guilt over the sleazy things he’d been forced to do caused him to turn to alcohol.
Nate had relived the accident a thousand times, awake and asleep. How often had Eden and Stuart relived that? “Where were you two that night?” he asked.
“Not at home, thank God. We were spending the weekend with my mom’s parents.”
“How long after… When did they send you to Colorado?”
Stuart shook his head. “A week, two weeks maybe, after the funerals. That part’s a little fuzzy.” Understandably, Nate thought.
“This diner has been our favorite place since we were kids. Our grandparents brought us here every Sunday after church. Eden and I kept meeting here, once a month or so, even after they died, so I never saw it coming when she picked me up as usual, but instead of bringing me here, she delivered me to a rehab center. Told me if I didn’t go in willingly, she’d have a talk with my sergeant, and that if I didn’t stay, she’d walk it up the chain of command until the department made it mandatory.
“So I put in the two months. Never gave a thought to who was paying for it. Until one of the nurses slipped and told me how lucky I was to have a sister like Eden. She’d sold the jewelry, antiques and silver our grandmother left her. And when I got out, I found out she’d called in a couple of favors so that instead of a couple months’ worth of desk duty, I served two weeks.”
“That’s some story,” Nate admitted. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Eden’s decision to work with troubled teens made more sense to him now. “But help me out here, Stuart. Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because she’s in love with you.”
“She’s…” Nate swallowed. Hard. “She said that?”
“Didn’t have to. I can read her like a book. And something tells me you have feelings for her, too.”
He paused, then added, “Look, you seem like a decent guy.” Stuart shook his head. “Okay, I know you’re a decent guy.”
“You had me checked out?”
“Yeah.” He winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’d do the same in your shoes.”
“But here’s the thing. If she keeps acting hot and cold, you’re gonna walk. I’d do the same in your shoes,” he said, quoting Nate. He sat back, glanced at his watch. “My sister wasn’t always like this. You’ve got my word on that. This stuff with her boys, I’m sure you know that’s just Eden. She’s always been a person who’d go to any lengths to protect the people she cares about. And it didn’t start when she took this job.”
Stuart launched into a story about when he was fourteen or so, when he got it into his head to start a fire in their grandparents’ backyard so they could toast marshmallows. The wind picked up, carried sparks to their grandmother’s winter-dry hedge and the shed roof.
“Eden sent me inside to tell our grandparents. When we got back out there, she was shivering in the dark, soaked to the skin thanks to the leaky hose, but the fires were out. She told them the whole thing was her idea, that she hadn’t counted on the wind. They said she should have known better at her age, and grounded her for six months. I tried to tell them it was me, but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
“I don’t get it. Why would she take the blame?”
“Because I was an out-of-control brat. Always in some sort of trouble, and I’d just been suspended from school. For the second time that year. Gramps was at his wits’ end. He’d already shown us the stack of military academy brochures he’d sent away for. Said next time I got into trouble, he’d pack me up and deliver me to one so fast it’d make my eyeballs rattle in their sockets. Evidently, Eden believed him.”
Nate got it now. Historically, she’d been the rescuer, not the rescued.
“This temperamental behavior didn’t start until that jerk landlord of hers messed with her sense of stability. Eden’s probably sleep-deprived, too. And I know my moods are shot when I haven’t gotten enough shut-eye. All this to say I hope you’ll cut her some slack.”
What could he say? Well, it’s like this Stuart, I’ve been cutting her slack! Clearly, not enough slack.
“I might be a little biased, but she’s good people. I’d bet my badge that she’ll pull herself together soon.”
The radio crackled again, and Stuart turned it up a notch.
“Two-one-four, do you copy?”
“This is two-one-four,” Stuart said.
“Respond to a 10-21 at 573 South Main.”
“Ten-four, on my way.” He slid from the booth. “Probably just someone punching in the wrong code on their burglar alarm.” Hand extended, he added, “Good seeing you, Nate. You’ll think about what I said?”
“Good to see you, too,” Nate said, shaking it. “And yeah, you can count on it.”
Driving back to the Double M, Nate rehashed the conversation. Stuart believed Eden had saved his life. And Nate had seen rock-solid evidence of all she’d done for those boys. What a hypocrite he’d been, judging her as moody and erratic when his own behavior hadn’t exactly been rational.
He could pretend it was because he hadn’t adhered to the two rules…
…or admit that he was crazy in love with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
STUART GAVE EDEN a dual surprise: He’d taken a job with the Denver PD, and, tired of waiting for the bank to sign off on the foreclosure, he’d bought Shamus’s house. The older man had decided to move into an assisted living center.
“It’ll take some getting used to,” she admitted, “but it’ll be great having you right next door.”
Nate was flattered to ha
ve been part of the secret. Flattered that Stuart had included him in the invitation to the housewarming party, too. His only question was how he’d moved in without Eden noticing—and kept Shamus quiet in the two weeks since their meeting.
After introducing everyone to his new girlfriend, Stuart took Eden’s kids into the kitchen to help him cook up some frozen pizzas, and Eden said she wanted to check out the backyard where she and her brother had spent so many happy afternoons.
Nate followed her.
“Why so quiet?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Silly stuff, really.” She shrugged. “It’s just hard to imagine Shamus in an assisted living center. He’s always been so active and energetic. I can’t believe I let myself get so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn’t know about any of this. I would have loved to help him out.”
“And just how would you have managed that?”
“I could have done some housework or laundry, yard work, gone shopping for him, something.”
“When? In the middle of the night? You already have too much on your plate. Shamus knows that, and so does Stuart.”
Nate wasn’t sure, but when she looked up at him, he thought he noticed the hint of a wistful smile.
“Makes me a little homesick, being here. This place is like a time capsule. My grandparents had the same beautiful old fixtures as Shamus before the Hansons ruined them.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the porch swing.
“What does this remind you of?” he asked as she sat beside him.
“That my grandfather made one just like it at Pinewood. Both of these houses will probably fall down before this swing comes apart.”
“The boys told me that he hung the swing right here on the porch so that your grandmother could enjoy her roses, even in the rain.”
“And the rest of the flower beds,” Eden said. “We worked day and night for weeks, Gran and I, gathering these football-sized rocks to line all the beds.”
Eden continued listing memories—Shamus’s shed, designed and built by her grandfather, hand-painted ceramic gnomes and toads her grandmother had fired in her kiln, the hanging basket she’d crocheted when Shamus turned fifty.
When it seemed she’d run out of them, Nate said, “Those memories aren’t like glass doorknobs or brass light fixtures. They’re etched into your heart, and no matter where life takes you, that’s right where you’ll find them.”
A silent second passed, and then she aimed a mischievous grin his way.
“Gosh. I never would have figured you for the poetic type.”
“There’s a lot you haven’t figured out about me, Eden.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Her voice, barely a whisper, changed. Was she crying? Nate leaned forward, and sure enough, tears glistened on her long lashes.
“Eden,” he said, turning slightly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. The opposite, actually.”
She gave his hand a reassuring pat. “I know. These are happy tears.”
Happy tears. Nate sighed. He’d been surrounded by women of all ages for his whole life, but he didn’t think he’d ever understand that line.
“Your hands are cold.” He wrapped them in his own. “You want to go in?”
“Not yet.” She sighed, then added, “Promise me something, Nate.”
“Anything, anytime.” And he meant it.
“Next time I start feeling sorry for myself, will you remind me of everything you just said?”
“Even the poetic stuff?”
“Especially the poetic stuff.”
And then she kissed him like she meant it.
He thought about taking a breath, just long enough to tell her that he loved her. But he had a feeling he’d recite those words a thousand times in the years to come.
So he returned the kiss, instead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I KNOW YOU’VE been busy,” Nate said, waving Eden out to his porch, “so I got you a little surprise.”
Her gaze traveled from the bottom to the top of a Douglas fir. “A little surprise? That tree is at least eight feet tall!”
“I’ll throw it into the back of the truck and follow you back to Pinewood,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “Do you like it?”
He seemed so pleased with himself that Eden didn’t have the heart to tell him it would never fit in the Pinewood family room. Not without slicing two feet from the bottom and moving the recliner to the parlor.
“It’s perfect. And smells like the forest.”
“I cut it down myself, just this afternoon, so it should last all through the season.”
Eden noticed two big shopping bags beside the tree. “What’s that?”
“Garland, lights, ornaments, a wreath, even an angel tree-topper.”
“But I have all of those things up in the attic.”
“I know. But Travis told me they’re all old, and barely covered your six-foot artificial tree. What would you say about putting that one in the parlor and this one in your family room, so the boys can enjoy it while they’re watching TV and stuff? If they all pitch in, we could have the outside lights strung and the wreath hung before dark. It’s supposed to rain, so we can take care of the inside tomorrow.”
“A poet and a Christmas addict, are you?”
“Actually,” he said, “I’ve never been keen on the holiday. Too noisy and messy, gaudy colors, commercialism…what’s to like? At least, that’s how I felt before…”
“Before what?”
“Before Memorial Day.”
Eden instantly got his meaning. Smiling, heart drumming, she said, “We’ll need to rearrange the furniture a bit to make room for it, but I think it’ll look great near the patio doors.”
“Aw, man, you’re right. It’s way too big for your place. I came this close to getting a blue spruce, instead. They look just as good, but they’re skinnier.” He started down the steps. “I’ll go back.”
“But it’ll be dark in a few minutes!”
“Relax. I have a flashlight. Besides, I know those woods like the back of my hand.”
“Really, Nate, a little fine-tuning, and this one will—”
Standing beside his pickup, he said, “Tell you what. You and the boys get the pizzas ready and figure out which movie you want to watch while I hunt for something smaller. I’ll text you some pictures. It’ll be like shopping at an online Christmas tree lot, only better.” He slid in behind the steering wheel.
“I wish you wouldn’t. I really like this tree!”
“It’s no trouble. Honest. I’ll be back before you can say Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
He backed down the drive as DeShawn joined her on the porch.
“Is that for us?” he said, pointing at the tree.
Grinning, she picked up the bags and headed inside. “Yup.”
“Man,” he said, “this’ll be interesting. I’ve never decorated a redwood before.”
“Be nice,” Eden said, laughing. “He meant well.”
“Where’s Nate going in such a hurry?” Carlos asked.
“He thinks this tree is too big for our family room, so he’s going back to cut down a smaller one.”
“He’s right.” Carlos looked toward the top. “We could put King Kong up there instead of a star.”
Squealing tires and the blare of a car horn silenced their laughter. Eden whirled around as Nate leaped from his truck without taking time to slam the door.
“Where are the rest of the boys?”
“Inside. Why?”
“Keep them there.” Walking backward, he pointed at the orange glow, visible beyond the bunkhouse roof.
“Fire in the barn?” DeShawn whispered. His voice was shaking when he yelled, “The horses! Let me help you get the horses out of there, Nate!”
“No way!” he bellowed. “Stay put.” He pointed at Eden. “Call 911, then call my folks and tell ’em what’s going on. They’ll spread the word to the rest of the family.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Like a robot, Eden followed his orders.
“I didn’t smell anything, did you?” DeShawn asked.
Nick said, “Nope.”
“Maybe that’s a sign the fire hasn’t gotten out of control,” Carlos suggested.
But the glow was brighter now, and that could mean only one thing. After reporting the fire to 911, Eden dialed Stuart’s number. Maybe he knew people who could move things along faster. She got his voicemail and left a message, her voice sounding wooden and strange in her own ears.
By now, all of the boys had gathered on Nate’s deck.
“I think we should get over there,” DeShawn said. “I know he said he doesn’t need help, but you know how he is.”
“The dispatcher said the fire department is on its way. So stay put,” Eden ordered.
“Are you kidding? It’ll take them half an hour to get here. He can’t put out that fire all by himself!”
Good point, Eden thought, hugging herself to fend off the chill. “Let’s hope they get here sooner than that.” Lots sooner. “But for the time being, let’s do what Nate asked us to, okay?”
They formed a semicircle around her. “It’s freezing out here. Get your coats and gloves, then come back out. No matter what, nobody leaves this deck, got it?”
Thankfully, they complied without complaint.
“While you’re inside, find Thomas. He’s probably in Nate’s office, looking something up on the computer. Let him know what’s going on and tell him I said to come out here.”
While they darted inside, Eden shrugged into her coat. Had Nate been wearing one? She couldn’t be sure, so she grabbed the gray duster at the end of the rack.
The heat intensified as she moved closer to the barn. If Nate hadn’t worn a coat, he sure wouldn’t need one!
Twenty yards from the entrance, she heard the boys running up behind her.
“I told you to stay on the deck!”
“We’re not going into the barn,” Carlos said. “We just wanted to make sure Nate doesn’t need help getting the horses into the back corral. Plus, you shouldn’t be by yourself.”