by Nora Roberts
When Tory stopped in front of the hotel, she felt she was in complete control again. No regrets, she reminded herself, as she turned off the ignition. We've just come to the fork in the road. We knew it was there when we started. Turning, she smiled at Phil.
"We're liable to be a bit stiff today."
Grinning, he leaned over and kissed her chin. "It was worth it."
"Remember that when you're moaning for a hot bath on your way back to L.A." Tory slid from the car.
When she stepped up on the sidewalk, Phil took her hand. The contact threatened her control before she snapped it back into place.
"I'm going to be thinking of you," he murmured as they stepped into the tiny lobby.
"You'll be busy." She let her hand slide on the banister as they mounted the stairs.
"Not that busy." Phil turned her to him when they reached the top landing. "Not that busy, Tory," he said again.
Her courtroom experience came to her aid. Trembling inside, Tory managed an easy smile. "I'm glad. I'll think of you too." Too often, too much. Too painful.
"If I call you—"
"I'm in the book," she interrupted. Play it light, she ordered herself. The way it was supposed to be, before...
"Keep out of trouble, Kincaid," she told him as she slipped her room key into its lock.
"Tory."
He stepped closer, but she barred the way into the room.
"I'll say goodbye now." With another smile she rested a hand on his cheek. "It'll be simpler, and I think I'd better catch a couple hours sleep before I go into the office."
Phil took a long, thorough study of her face. Her eyes were direct, her smile easy. Apparently there was nothing left to say. "If that's what you want."
Tory nodded, not fully trusting herself. "Be happy, Phil," she managed before she disappeared into her room. Very carefully Tory turned the lock before she walked to the bed. Lying down, she curled into a ball and wept, and wept, and wept.
It was past noon when Tory awoke. Her head was pounding. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she studied herself objectively in the mirror over the sink. Terrible, she decided without emotion. The headache had taken the color from her cheeks, and her eyes were swollen and red from tears. Dispassionately, Tory ran the water until it was icy cold, then splashed her face with it. When her skin was numb, she stripped and stepped under the shower.
She decided against aspirin. The pills would dull the pain, and the pain made it difficult to think. Thinking was the last thing she felt she needed to do at the moment. Phil was gone, back to his own life. She would go on with hers. The fact that she had fallen in love with him over her own better judgment was simply her hard luck. In a few days she would be able to cope with it easily enough. Like hell you will, she berated herself as she dried her skin with a rough towel. You fell hard, and some bruises take years to heal... if ever.
Wasn't it ironic, she mused as she went back into the bedroom to dress. Victoria L. Ashton, Attorney at Law, dedicated to straightening out other people's lives, had just made a beautiful mess of her own. And yet, there hadn't been any options. A deal was a deal.
Phil, she said silently, I've decided to change our contract. Circumstances have altered, and I'm in love with you. I propose we include certain things like commitment and reciprocal affection into our arrangement, with options for additions such as marriage and children, should both parties find it agreeable.
She gave a short laugh and pulled on a fresh shirt. Of course, she could merely have clung to him, tearfully begging him not to leave her. What man wouldn't love to find himself confronted with a hysterical woman who won't let go?
Better this way, she reminded herself, tugging on jeans. Much better to have a clean, civilized break.
Aloud, she said something potent about being civilized as she pinned on her badge. The one thing she had firmly decided during her crying jag was that it was time for her to leave Friendly. Merle could handle the responsibilities of the office for the next few weeks without too much trouble. She had come to terms with her father's death, with her mother. She felt confident that she'd helped in Tod's family situation. Merle had grown up a bit. All in all, Tory felt she wasn't needed any longer. In Albuquerque she could put her own life in motion again. She needed that if she wasn't going to spend three weeks wallowing in self-pity and despair. At least, she decided, it was something she could start on. Naturally she would have to talk to the mayor and officially resign. There would be a visit to her mother. If she spent a day briefing Merle, she should be able to leave before the end of the week.
Her own rooms, Tory thought, trying to work up some excitement. The work she was trained for—a meaty court case that would take weeks of preparation and a furnace of energy. She felt suddenly that she had a surplus of it and nowhere to go. Back in the bath, she applied a careful layer of makeup to disguise the effects of tears, then brushed her hair dry. The first step was the mayor. There was no point putting it off.
It took thirty minutes for Tory to convince the mayor she was serious and another fifteen to assure him that Merle was capable of handling the job of acting sheriff until the election.
"You know, Tory," Bud said when he saw her mind was made up, "we're going to be sorry to lose you. I guess we all kept hoping you'd change your mind and run. You've been a good sheriff, I guess you come by it naturally."
"I appreciate that—really." Touched, Tory took the hand he offered her. "Pat Rowe and Nick Merriweather are both fair men. Whoever wins, the town's in good hands. In a few years Merle will make you a fine sheriff."
"If you ever change your mind..." Bud trailed off wanting to leave the door open.
"Thanks, but my niche in the law isn't in enforcement. I have to get back to my practice."
"I know, I know." He sighed, capitulating. "You've done more than we had a right to expect."
"I did what I wanted to do," she corrected.
' I guess things will be quiet for a while, especially with the movie people gone." He gave a regretful glance toward the window. Excitement, he mused, wasn't meant for Friendly. "Come by and see me before you leave town."
Outside, the first thing Tory noticed was the absence of the movie crew. There were no vans, no sets, no lights or packets of people. Friendly had settled back into its yawning pace as though there had never been a ripple. Someone had written some graffiti in the dust on the window of the post office. A car puttered into town and stopped in front of the hardware store. Tory started to cross the street, but stopped in the center when she was hailed. Shielding her eyes, she watched Tod race toward her.
"Sheriff, I've been looking for you."
"Is something wrong?"
"No." He grinned the quick-spreading grin that transformed his thin face. "It's real good, I wanted you to know. My dad...well, we've been talking, you know, and we even drove out to see those people you told us about."
"How'd it go?"
"We're going to go back—my mom too."
"I'm happy for you." Tory brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "It's going to take time, Tod. You'll all have to work together."
"I know, but..." He looked up at her, his eyes wide and thrilled. "He really loves me. I never thought he did.
And my mom, she wondered if you could come out to the house sometime. She wants to thank you."
"There isn't any need for that." "She wants to."
"I'll try." Tory hesitated, finding that this goodbye would be more difficult than most. "I'm going away in a couple of days."
His elated expression faded. "For good?"
"My mother lives here," she reminded him. "My father's buried here. I'll come back from time to time."
"But not to stay."
"No," Tory said softly. "Not to stay."
Tod lowered his gaze to the ground. "I knew you'd leave. I guess I was pretty stupid that day in your office when I..." He trailed off with a shrug and continued to stare at the ground.
"I didn't think you were stupid. It m
eant a lot to me." Tory put out a hand to lift his face. "Means a lot to me."
Tod moistened his lips. "I guess I still love you—if you don't mind."
"Oh." Tory felt the tears spring to her eyes and pulled him into her arms. "I'm going to miss you like crazy.
Would you think I was stupid if I said I wish I were a fourteen-year-old girl?"
Grinning, he drew away. Nothing she could have said could have pleased him more. "I guess if you were I could kiss you goodbye."
With a laugh Tory brushed a light kiss on his lips. ' 'Go on, get out of here," she ordered unsteadily.
"Nothing undermines the confidence of a town more than having its sheriff crying in the middle of the street."
Feeling incredibly mature, Tod dashed away. Turning, he ran backward for a moment. "Will you write sometime?"
"Yes, yes, I'll write." Tory watched him streak off at top speed. Her smile lost some of its sparkle. She was losing, she discovered, quite a bit in one day. Briskly shaking off the mood, she turned in the direction of her office. She was still a yard away when Merle strolled out.
"Hey," he said foolishly, glancing from her, then back at the door he'd just closed.
"Hey yourself," she returned. "You just got yourself a promotion, Merle T."
"Tory, there's— Huh?"
"Incredibly articulate," she replied with a fresh smile. "I'm resigning. You'll be acting sheriff until the election."
"Resigning?" He gave her a completely baffled look. "But you—" He broke off, shaking his head at the door again. "How come?"
"I need to get back to my practice. Anyway," she stepped up on the sidewalk, "it shouldn't take long for me to fill you in on the procedure. You already know just about everything. Come on inside and we'll get started."
"Tory." In an uncharacteristic gesture he took her arm and stopped her. Shrewdly direct, his eyes locked on hers. "Are you upset about something?"
Merle was definitely growing up, Tory concluded. "I just saw Tod." It was part of the truth, and all she would discuss. "That kid gets to me."
His answer was a slow nod, but he didn't release her arm. "I guess you know the movie people left late this morning."
"Yes, I know." Hearing her own clipped response, Tory took a mental step back. "I don't suppose it was easy for you to say goodbye to Marlie," she said more gently.
"I'll miss her some," he admitted, still watching Tory critically. "We had fun together."
His words were so calm that Tory tilted her head as she studied him. "I was afraid you'd fallen in love with her."
"In love with her?" He let out a hoot of laughter. "Shoot, I ain't ready for that. No way."
"Sometimes being ready doesn't make any difference," Tory muttered. "Well," she said more briskly, "since you're not crying in your beer, why don't we go over some things? I'd like to be in Albuquerque before the end of the week."
"Ah...yeah, sure." Merle glanced around the empty street. "I gotta talk to somebody first over at, urn...the hotel," he announced. "Be right back."
Tory shot him an exasperated glance as he loped across the street. "Well," she murmured, "some things never change." Deciding she could spend the time packing her books and papers, Tory walked into the office.
Seated at her desk, casually examining the .45, was Phil Kincaid. She stopped dead, gaping at him.
"Sheriff," he said mildly, giving the barrel an idle spin.
"Phil." She found her voice, barely. "What are you doing here?"
He didn't rise, but propped his feet up on the desk instead. "I forgot something. Did you know you didn't unload this thing last night?"
She didn't even glance at the gun, but stood rooted to the spot. "I thought you'd left hours ago."
"Did you?" He gave her a long, steady look. The cold water and makeup had helped, but he knew her face intimately. "I did," he agreed after a moment. "I came back."
"Oh." So now she would have to deal with the goodbye a second time. Tory ignored the ache in her stomach and smiled. "What did you forget?"
"I owe you something," he said softly. The gesture with the gun was very subtle, but clear enough.
Only partially amused, Tory lifted a brow. "Let's call it even," she suggested. Wanting to busy her hands, she went to the shelf near the desk to draw out her books.
"No," he said mildly. "I don't think so. Turn around, Sheriff."
Annoyance was the least painful of her emotions, so Tory let it out. "Look, Phil—"
"In the cell," he interrupted. "I can recommend the first one."
"You're out of your mind." With a thud she dropped the books. "If that thing's loaded, you could hurt someone."
"I have some things to say to you," he continued calmly. "In there." Again he gestured toward the cell.
Her hands went to her hips. "All right, Kincaid, I'm still sheriff here. The penalty for armed assault on a peace officer—'' "Shut up and get in," Phil ordered. "You can take that gun," Tory began dangerously, "and —"
Her suggestion was cut off when Phil grabbed her arm and hauled her into a cell. Stepping in with her, he pulled the door shut with a shattering clang.
"You idiot!" Impotently, Tory gave the locked door a furious jerk. ' 'Now just how the hell arc we supposed to get out?"
Phil settled comfortably on the bunk, propped on one elbow, with the gun lowered toward the floor. It was just as empty as it had been when Tory had bluffed him. "I haven't anyplace better to go."
Fists on hips, Tory whirled. ' 'Just what is this all about, Kincaid?" she demanded. "You're supposed to be halfway to L.A.; instead you're propped up at my desk. Instead of a reasonable explanation, you throw that gun around like some two-bit hood—''
"I thought I did it with such finesse," he complained, frowning at the object under discussion. "Of course, I'd rather have a piece with a bit more style." He grinned up at her. "Pearl handle, maybe."
"Do you have to behave like such a fool?"
"I suppose."
"When this is over, you're going to find yourself locked up for months. Years, if I can manage it," she added, turning to tug uselessly on the bars again.
"That won't work," he told her amiably. "I shook them like crazy a few months ago."
Ignoring him, Tory stalked to the window. Not a soul on the street. She debated swallowing her pride and calling out. It would look terrific, she thought grimly, to have the sheriff shouting to be let out of one of her own cells. If she waited for Merle, at least she could make him swear to secrecy.
"All right, Kincaid," she said between her teeth. "Let's have it. Why are you here and why the devil are we locked in the cell?"
He glanced down at the gun again, then set it on the edge of the bunk. Automatically, Tory judged the distance. "Because," and his voice had altered enough to lure her eyes to his, "I found myself in an impossible situation."
At those words Tory felt her heart come to a stop, then begin again at a furious rate. Cautiously she warned herself not to read anything into the statement. True, she remembered his use of the phrase when talking about love, but it didn't follow that he meant the same thing now.
"Oh?" she managed, and praised herself for a brilliant response.
' 'Oh?'" Phil pushed himself off the bunk in a quick move. "Is that all you can say? I got twenty miles out of town," he went on in sudden fury. "I told myself that was it. You wanted—I wanted—a simple transient relationship. No complications. We'd enjoyed each other; it was over."
Tory swallowed. "Yes, we'd agreed—"
"The hell with what we agreed." Phil grabbed her shoulders, shaking her until her mouth dropped open in shock. "It got complicated. It got very, very complicated." Releasing her abruptly, he began to pace the cell he had locked them both into,
' 'Twenty miles out of town," he repeated, "and I couldn't make it. Even last night I told myself it was all for the best. You'd go your way, I'd go mine. We'd both have some great memories." He turned to her then; although his voice lowered, it was no calmer. "
Damn it, Tory, I want more than memories of you. I need more. You didn't want this to happen, I know that." Agitated, he ran a hand through his hair, while she said nothing. "I didn't want it, either, or thought I didn't. I'm not sure anymore. It might have been the first minute I walked in here, or that day at the cemetery. It might have been that night at the lake or a hundred other times. I don't know when it happened, why it happened." He shook his head as though it was a problem he'd struggled with and ultimately given up on. "I only know I love you. And God knows I can't leave you. I tried—I can't."
With a shuddering sigh Tory walked back to the bars and rested her head against them. The headache she had awoken with was now a whirling dizziness. A minute, she told herself. I just need a minute to take it in.
"I know you've got a life in Albuquerque," Phil continued, fighting against the fluttering panic in his stomach. "1 know you've got a career that's important to you. It isn't something I'm asking you to choose between. There are ways to balance things if people want to badly enough. I broke the rules; I'm willing to make the adjustments."
"Adjustments..." Tory managed before she turned back to him.
"I can live in Albuquerque," he told her as he crossed the cell. "That won't stop me from making movies." '
'The studio—"
"I'll buy a plane and commute," he said quickly. "It's been done before."
"A plane." With a little laugh she walked away, dragging a hand through her hair. "A plane."
"Yes, damn it, a plane." Her reaction was nothing that he had expected. The panic grew. "You didn't want me to go," he began in defense, in fury. "You've been crying. I can tell."
A bit steadier, Tory faced him again. "Yes, I cried. No, I didn't want you to go. Still, I thought it was best for both of us."
"Why?"
"It wouldn't be easy, juggling two careers and one relationship."
"Marriage," he corrected firmly. "Marriage, Tory. The whole ball of wax. Kids, too. I want you to have my children." He saw the change in her eyes—shock, fear? Unable to identify it, Phil went to her again. "I said I love you." Again he took her by the shoulders. This time he didn't shake her but held her almost tentatively. "I have to know what you feel for me."