Reunited with the Sheriff

by Belle Calhoune

  When she looked up Tate was standing there towering over her, his blue eyes filled with concern. She had to blink several times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Nope, she wasn’t hallucinating. He was still standing there with a questioning look on his face, his brows furrowed together.

  The man was seriously good looking. More good looking than a man had a right to be. No man had ever looked better in a cowboy hat and jeans, she reckoned.

  Tate Lynch had always been handsome. It had been the main reason she’d nurtured a mad crush on him all through middle school and junior high. That, and the kindness that flowed through him like water. Although he’d treated her with deference due to her status as his little sister’s best friend, Cassidy had longed to see a glimmer of interest in his eyes. And then a funny thing had happened the summer before her sophomore year in high school. She’d grown four inches, the baby fat had turned to womanly curves and her acne had cleared up, leaving her with a flawless complexion. Tate had taken notice of the new and improved Cassidy and asked her out. They had dated all through high school, becoming engaged soon after she’d graduated.

  “Cassidy, are you all right?” Tate asked, the tenderness in his voice warming her insides.

  “I’m fine,” she answered with a shaky smile, a bit unnerved about Tate’s close proximity. His nearness made her wish for things she knew she could never have.

  He scowled, his eyes raking over her face. “You don’t look fine.” He glanced around and made eye contact with a few of the townsfolk who had been eyeballing her. A fierce look was etched on his face as he drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms across his chest. He seemed poised for battle. Most of them scampered away as soon as Tate glared in their direction. With a satisfied expression, he swung back around to face Cassidy.

  “Were they bothering you?” Tate’s eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a grim line. Turbulent emotions swirled in his eyes.

  “I think they were just trying to make me feel unwelcome,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Mission accomplished.”

  His expression darkened. “They don’t have the right to persecute you. Or heckle you,” he growled. “That’s crossing the line.”

  Cassidy glanced around at the crowd of people milling around the fairgrounds. “It doesn’t surprise me. West Falls is a small town. They still haven’t forgiven me. And I can’t say I blame them. Pastors’ daughters aren’t expected to fall from grace.”

  Tate raised an eyebrow. He kept quiet, seemingly waiting for her to explain herself.

  “What I did was wrong. The accident...at least I can say it was an accident. But running off, leaving West Falls like that, it was a horrible thing to do.”

  Surprise flashed in Tate’s eyes, and for a moment he seemed speechless.

  He blinked. “So you regret leaving?”

  “Of course I do. I don’t think you can solve your problems by running away from them.” Especially when you carried around in your heart everything you’d left behind.

  Tate flinched, his features hardening at her words. Something shifted between them in that moment, leaving the air between them highly charged. She had no idea what she’d done to cause a change in his demeanor, but she could sense he’d put up a wall between them.

  “Are you here with your family?” he asked in a brisk voice.

  “Yes, my parents are over by the wishing tree.”

  She felt a burst of pride at the thought of the wishing tree. At the age of seven she had come up with the idea of creating a wish list of needed items for her father’s church that the congregation could individually select and donate. The items were then displayed on a wishing tree for everyone to see during the bazaar.

  * * *

  “Why don’t I walk you over there in case there’s any trouble.”

  This was the Tate she remembered. Ever the gentleman. Always ready to step in and help out those in need.

  “You don’t have to be my bodyguard, Tate. I’ll be fine,” she protested, struggling to hide her deflated spirits.

  She didn’t want Tate to feel obligated to escort her through the fairgrounds. After all they’d meant to each other, the last thing she wanted him to feel toward her was duty. He’d made it crystal clear yesterday that he wanted nothing to do with her. She knew he was probably feeling torn between his duty as sheriff and his disdain for her.

  “It’s my job to make sure every citizen in town is safe. That includes you,” he said gruffly.

  “Whatever you say, Sheriff,” she said, placing emphasis on his title. She knew better than to argue with a stubborn Tate. Now that he was sheriff, she would wager he was even more strong-willed than ever.

  As they walked side by side she couldn’t help but notice the curious stares and doubletakes. She wasn’t sure whether it was solely due to her presence or the fact that they were walking together. Everyone in town knew their dating history as well as their stormy breakup. Tate didn’t seem to notice. Either that, she realized, or he was playing it cool. Occasionally he would tip his hat to someone or shout out a friendly greeting. At all times he carried himself with dignity and authority. He had a rugged kind of swagger that commanded attention.

  Cassidy had so many wonderful memories of the bazaar—eating cotton candy, entering the greased pig contest, winning the whipped-cream-eating competition. She had always enjoyed the camaraderie of the congregation and the opportunity to spend the day with her friends. And Tate. Memories of the two of them riding the Ferris wheel, walking hand in hand and playing skeet ball rose unbidden to her mind.

  “Oh my! Is that you, Cassidy Blake?”

  A tall, regal-looking woman stood in her path, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Before she could say a word Cassidy found herself enveloped in a bear hug. The heavy scent of lilacs rose to her nostrils, bringing with it strong memories of childhood. Mona Jackson was one of her mother’s oldest and most faithful friends. With her larger-than-life personality, Mona had always been one of Cassidy’s favorite residents of West Falls. Now more than ever she was thrilled to see a friendly face.

  “Mrs. Jackson. It’s great to see you,” Cassidy said, granting Mona her most genuine smile of the day.

  Mona wagged a finger at her. “Don’t you dare call me Mrs. Jackson. You’re grown enough now to call me Mona.”

  Cassidy nodded. “Okay. Mona it is.”

  “I just talked to your Mama last night. I’ve never heard her so chipper and upbeat. That’s because of you, Cassidy.” Mona gave her a knowing look. “You’re the best medicine there is. And before you leave town again I want you to autograph one of your paintings for me.”

  “Why don’t you come by the house,” she suggested, “and I’ll personalize it for you.”

  “I’ll make sure to do that. Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Mona said with a nod at Tate.

  Tate tipped his cowboy hat in Mona’s direction. “Nice to see you, Mona.”

  Mona turned toward Tate, her eyes dancing with mischief as she said, “Have you ever seen a more beautiful woman in your life than this one?”

  He tucked his hands into his front pockets and shifted from one foot to the other. “Er... No, I haven’t. Cassidy has always been drop dead gorgeous.” He turned his head to look at her. “And she still is.”

  Mona nodded her head in agreement. “Good to see you still have some sense. I’ll catch y’all later. I’m off to buy some raffle tickets.”

  As soon as Mona walked off, Cassidy began talking a mile a minute. “I’m sorry she put you on the spot. That was so awkward. I mean...she practically forced you to agree with her—”

  Tate rolled his eyes. “You act as if she twisted my arm. You are, and always will be, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  Cassidy felt heat rising to her cheeks. She was awestruck by Tate’s words. �
��You’re sweet,” she murmured, too overwhelmed to say anything more meaningful.

  “Not sweet. Just truthful.”

  They continued walking until she came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the concession stands. Tate stopped in his tracks and shot Cassidy a look of confusion.

  She pointed to the concession stand. “Do you mind if I stop and get some cotton candy?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You still love the pink sticky stuff, huh?”

  Cassidy rubbed her stomach and licked her lips. “You have no idea,” she answered. “Visions of cotton candy have been dancing around in my head all day.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Tate said as he stepped into the line alongside her.

  As soon as the confection was placed in her hand, she began to attack it with gusto. She held it out and offered it to Tate, who crinkled up his face in response. Cassidy shrugged, then kept on eating the sweat treat, finishing it in a matter of minutes.

  He led her through the livestock enclosure as a shortcut toward getting back to the wishing tree. Cassidy paused for a moment to admire a brood of piglets sucking noisily at their mama’s teats.

  “You’ve got some cotton candy on your face,” Tate said with a grin. “You always did end up wearing more of it than you ate.”

  His words resurrected old memories of their high school days, as well as all the church bazaars and carnivals they’d attended together. For Cassidy it almost felt as if they’d stepped back in time to the familiar rhythms of adolescence.

  This is the way we were, she thought, before the bottom fell out of our world.

  Tate reached out and wiped the cotton candy off her chin and lips, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. She looked up at him, marveling at the way he made her feel. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so lighthearted, so joyful. And judging by the way he was looking at her, his eyes twinkling with glee, he felt the same way. For the moment it seemed as if all his anger toward her had faded away.

  “And you were always there to wipe it off my face,” she countered. “Or kiss it off.”

  As soon as the words rolled off her tongue, she wanted to yank them back in. She’d gotten carried away by their carefree banter and fallen into the familiar rhythms they’d once shared as a couple. Eight years ago it would’ve been nothing to make a comment like that. But now? After everything that had happened, it seemed flippant and overly familiar.

  Tate’s guarded expression said it all. She’d gone too far.

  The air suddenly felt charged with electricity as Tate fidgeted with his collar and shifted his gaze to the ground. “That was a long time ago. A lifetime ago.”

  Her cheeks felt flushed, and she raised her palms to her face. “I know it was. I’m so sorry I brought that up. The bazaar, the cotton candy, being back home...it’s bringing back a lot of memories,” she explained as embarrassment flowed through her at her forward comment.

  He brushed his hand across his face and let out a sigh. “It’s not your fault. I got caught up in the past, too. Being with you reminds me of how things used to be. But those are just memories. Here and now, you and I are strangers.” His face hardened, his mouth tightened. There was a hard edge to his voice. “You made sure of that when you ran away and never looked back.” He let out a harsh laugh. “That’s the way you wanted it, wasn’t it? I think you called it closure.”

  His words were like daggers to her heart. Strangers? They’d grown up together, loved each other, had planned to spend the rest of their lives together. Did he truly believe she’d wanted the two of them to be strangers? Had she really used the word closure when she’d ended their engagement? It sounded so cold, so unfeeling under the circumstances.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” he huffed. “I can’t do this right now.” His face resembled a storm cloud about to burst as he strode past her.

  “Wait. Tate, please don’t go. I need to talk to you,” she pleaded.

  There are so many things I never got to say. So many apologies I have yet to put into words.

  He shook his head. “There’s really nothing more to talk about. I respect the reasons why you came back, but it’s got nothing to do with me.”

  “We have everything to talk about. The accident, why I left town, Holly.”

  He sliced his hand through the air. “That’s all in the past. I’ve moved on.”

  Moved on? She was pretty sure Tate hadn’t moved on. His anger toward her showed that he still had a lot of stuff he was holding on to. Not that she could blame him. He’d been in the middle of the firestorm and gotten burned at both ends. He had every right to resent her, but he needed to own it rather than pretend it was all in the past, dead and buried.

  “I guess I haven’t moved on, not completely,” she admitted. “I know I can’t change the past, but I can try and make amends for what I did. To Holly. And your family. And you.”

  Tate clenched his fists. “Nothing can be served by dredging all this up. If you need to make amends, do that with God, Cassidy. It’s a little too late to come looking for forgiveness.”

  Too late for forgiveness? How could that be? Although she struggled with the notion that she was worthy of forgiveness, she knew it was possible. Every time she read the Bible she sought out scriptures to support the idea of being forgiven. No Bible passage said it more eloquently than Matthew 6:12. Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.

  Tate’s words shocked her to the core. She’d expected anger from him, but she hadn’t anticipated him drawing a line in the sand, one he’d never allow her to cross over. She could only imagine his fury if the truth about the accident ever came to light.

  “You’ve always been a man of faith,” she said in a bewildered voice. “If that’s true, how can you be so unforgiving?”

  For a moment he didn’t answer her. He stood there like a statue, his eyes shooting daggers at her. His breathing sounded choppy and ragged. His eyes resembled glaciers—cold and unapproachable. His hands were clenched at his sides.

  “I may be a man of faith, but even faith has limits. As long as my sister is still sitting in a wheelchair, I’m going to find it a bit difficult to forgive the woman who put her there.”

  Chapter Four

  Tate briskly walked away from the enclosure, nearly barreling headfirst into a pair of lovesick teenagers who crossed his path.

  “Watch where you’re going!” he yelled as he stared down the couple, who were holding hands and making goo-goo eyes at each other. One word from him had them letting go of each other’s hands and muttering profuse apologies. For a moment he just stared at them as he battled the temptation to warn them about the perils of young love.

  What good would it do? he asked himself. His teenaged self would never have listened to any adult advising him against falling in love with Cassidy. It had felt way too good at the time. And he’d been convinced that their love would last a lifetime. Young, stupid love.

  At least he’d never been foolish enough to repeat that particular mistake again. Ever since then his heart had been off-limits.

  He should never have sought out Cassidy at the bazaar. From the moment he’d arrived at the fairgrounds his radar had been on high alert. His gut instinct had told him that some of the townsfolk wouldn’t be able to resist hassling her. At first he’d watched from the sidelines before allowing himself to step into the breach. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. The sight of a vulnerable Cassidy, fighting back tears, had torn him up inside. Even when they were kids he’d never been able to resist playing the role of her protector. Clearly, not a lot had changed in that regard.

  The moment he’d clapped eyes on her decked out in a romantic floral dress and a pair of tomato-red cowboy boots his heart had nearly popped out of his chest. It had been near impossible to keep his eyes off her.
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  It’s not like she’s the only beautiful woman in town, he reasoned with himself. But it wasn’t just about beauty, was it? It was about heart and soul and a hundred other things he couldn’t define.

  The tender feelings she evoked in him left him feeling frustrated and unsure of himself. He could’ve sworn those feelings were dead and buried. He’d fallen out of love with Cassidy years ago. But this afternoon when he’d been in her presence, he’d felt more joyous than he’d felt in years. He’d felt alive. Wonderfully, achingly alive. And he hated himself for being so weak-minded, so up and down with his emotions.

  But wasn’t it only natural to remember all they’d shared? Love. Friendship. Joy. Dreams of forever. It was so easy to slip back into the familiar rhythms of the past, to relive the glory days of their love story. He imagined it was normal to replay the past and how things used to be. But what he was feeling seemed so much bigger, so much more powerful than just a walk down memory lane. It seemed real.

  Don’t be an idiot! There were so many things that trumped the old feelings she was bringing back. Holly. Loyalty. Betrayal. Honor.

  Cassidy’s own words had caused him to second-guess everything he was feeling.

  I don’t think you can solve your problems by running away from them.

  When those words had come flying out of her mouth he’d almost challenged her on the spot. But his pride had reined him in. Had he been one of the problems she’d been running from? Is that why she’d called off their wedding and run off to another life in Phoenix?

  It was all so confusing to him. The past he’d worked so hard to make peace with had caught up with him. How was he supposed to feel with Cassidy back in town and reminding him of everything he’d lost? He shut his eyes and did the one thing he knew would soothe his soul. Prayer. The only good thing that had come out of the accident was his relationship to God. In the ensuing days, weeks and months he’d turned to God to see him through Cassidy’s desertion and Holly’s paralysis. It had been the only solid thing he’d been able to hold on to when everything else in his life was falling apart.