Between them, she and Tanner had set up the neighborhood watch. In pairs, people walked through town or drove past the outlying ranches. So far, though, they hadn’t seen anyone involved in suspicious activity.
She forced herself to meet Tanner’s eyes. “Not a thing new to report, Deputy. We’ve got our groups set up for tonight and tomorrow.”
“Enthusiasm staying pretty high?” He leaned close. Too close. Above the well-loved scents of paper and leather bindings that permeated the store, she caught a whiff of his aftershave.
Easing backward, she shrugged. “Things have quieted, but the teams are still out doing their jobs. And you?”
“Doing my job, you mean? Trying to, at least.” He grinned.
She looked down, made an unnecessary checkmark next to an imaginary item. Tried to keep her mind on her own duties. “Have you found out who’s behind all these pranks?”
“In two days? No. But I’ll start making rounds in the County car at night.”
“If you’re taking on extra duties yourself, I’ll do the same.” It was the least a co-chair could do.
“We can make up a team.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He leaned forward, giving her another look at his devilish grin. “Aw, c’mon, Sarah. Be like old times, when we’d cruise around in that old clunker I had.”
They had spent more than a few of their nights riding alone in the dark, intimate closeness of the front seat of his car. She glared at him.
The gall of the man yet again, same as on the night of the Town Hall meeting. Insinuating himself where he wasn’t wanted, using that same teasing tone. Acting as if they could regain what they’d had between them years ago.
“That won’t work, Tanner. We’re not teenagers anymore.” She clutched her clipboard harder. “I can’t patrol after dark, anyway. I need to be home in the evenings for Kevin.”
As if the mention of her son’s name had summoned him, the front door swung open. Tensing, she glanced past Tanner, then sagged in relief.
Jerry, the mail carrier, came down the center aisle of the store juggling a couple large packing boxes. An envelope rested precariously on top. Her heart sank as she spied the return receipt card attached to it. Another creditor, wanting to make sure she received her overdue bills.
“Afternoon, Sarah. Not a bad haul, today.”
In his opinion, maybe.
Jerry set the boxes on the counter. The envelope slid off to land on the floor at Tanner’s feet. “’Scuse me, Deputy.”
“No problem.” Tanner bent and picked up the offending piece of mail. He frowned down at it, then handed it to Sarah.
She scribbled her signature, ripped off the receipt, and returned it to Jerry, who nodded his thanks and left.
“Let me set these boxes back in my office,” she told Tanner, “and we can go over the roster for the watch teams.”
“Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
Before she could protest, he lifted the packing boxes as though they weighed no more than the envelope. She hurried into her office, not wanting to be trapped in the narrow aisle with him.
Her tiny back room gave her no better space. With the added height of his high-crowned Stetson and the heels of his dress boots, Tanner seemed tall enough to brush the ceiling. Broad enough to fill the room. Alive and healthy and strong enough to require all the air in the vicinity.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Just set them on the pile beside the filing cabinet.” She looked toward the desk, intending to place the envelope there, and cringed when she saw the bills she’d left lined up, with their incriminating red stamps marked Overdue. One little shift sideways, one turn of his head, and Tanner would see them, too.
As he leaned over to put the boxes down, she hurried past him to the desk.
“That’s some son you’ve got, Sarah.”
The words stopped her in her tracks. After a long moment, she turned and faced him, her body blocking the desktop. “What do you mean?”
He nodded toward the bulletin board. “Drawings up there, looking good. He shows more talent with a couple of crayons than we ever managed to do in Art. He take after his dad?”
The blood rushed from Sarah’s head. Her face felt chilled, her mouth frozen. She didn’t want to answer Tanner. Couldn’t. But he stood looking at her, waiting for an answer.
“No, his father doesn’t have any artistic skill, either.” It wasn’t a lie. Tanner had just made that clear. Still, the half truth seemed to twist in her heart.
He stepped closer. “I say something wrong?” He reached up, as if to stroke the stray curls that tumbled against her temple.
Time stopped. Turned back. Raced away.
She stood, held in place by the look in Tanner’s eyes.
His hand hovered near her head, a breath away from touching her, until he clenched his fingers and lowered his arm to his side.
She whirled to face the desk, scooped the row of bills into an untidy pile and flipped it over. Hands shaking, she struggled to line up the edges of the papers.
The crazy thought occurred to her that she should tell him everything right now. Reveal her money troubles. Confess the truth about Kevin.
And request eight years’ worth of child support.
But of course she wouldn’t. She didn’t want anything from Tanner. Except his rapid departure from her life.
Behind her, he cleared his throat once, twice.
She sighed inwardly. Sooner or later, she’d have to meet his eyes again. Slowly, she turned. To her relief, he had backed a step away.
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his back pockets—in another attempt to keep from reaching for her?
“If I stuck my foot in it just now, that’s because I’m feeling out of touch with you. So to speak.” He cleared his throat again. “I mean, nobody’s said much to me about you. You haven’t said much about yourself. Me, either, if it comes down to it. Guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Not if she could help it.
“So, what happened to your husband, Sarah? Where is he now? What’s he doing?”
He asked the questions so casually, each one causing her a twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.
Would she ever be?
She swallowed hard. “That’s really none of your business.”
“It was, once. You were my girl, Sarah. Nothing was going to change that.”
“Then you walked away. Left town. Joined the army. What did you expect, that I would just sit home and wait for you?”
She hadn’t expected Tanner to leave her. Or Daddy to die. Or herself having to do…anything that had come afterward.
“Don’t know what I thought.”
“Well, I—” The familiar squeal of brakes outside choked off her words. The school bus.
At the sound, Tanner looked toward the door.
She closed her eyes for a moment, making him disappear from her sight, wishing she could cause him to go away permanently.
The front doorbell gave the usual exuberant clang that meant her son had made contact with it. To her dismay, Kevin’s voice rang out, too.
“Hey, Mom, I’m home.”
His sneakers slapped against the wooden floor as he came toward the back of the store.
“In here, honey.”
Tanner, standing closer to the office door, shifted into the opening.
Kevin’s sneakers squeaked to a halt. “Hey—”
She hurried to step beside Tanner. “Hi, Kev.”
He had stopped halfway down the center aisle. His eyes widened, his lips trembled in obvious shock and a hint of fear. Still, his small fists crept up to rest on his hips. He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him, and twice as protective. Her heart lurched.
“What’re you doin’?” he demanded.
“Hush, Kevin. That’s not—”
“Watch it, kid,” Tanner cut in, “that’s your mom you’re talki
ng to.”
“I’m not—”
“Kevin.”
“But, Mom, I was talking to him.”
“That’s not the way we act with guests, is it?”
She pushed past Tanner. He had no right to discipline her son in front of her. No call to speak to him that way at all.
Tanner followed her into the store, then stood looking at her, one eyebrow raised.
Did he think she’d let such rudeness slide? Did he really think she couldn’t manage her own son?
Egging the sheriff’s car had been wrong. She had already taken Kevin to task for it and given him a list of extra chores, as well. And she would reprimand him for his backtalk now. But, oh, how she wished she could avoid this whole issue, when it only prolonged having Kevin and Tanner together.
“We were just visiting, honey,” she told her son. “And you need to apologize to Deputy Jones for your tone.”
“But, Mom—”
She shook her head, caught between feeling proud of him and needing to behave like a concerned parent. The prideful part wanted her to excuse her son, as she suspected he’d only meant to defend her. The parent knew she had to teach him to take responsibility for his actions.
Besides, she couldn’t let him think he could back-talk a deputy sheriff!
“Kevin…”
After a long pause, he glowered at Tanner and muttered, “Sorry.” Immediately, he looked back to Sarah. “Can I have my cookies now?”
She nodded. “Don’t spoil your supper.”
Kevin dodged down a side aisle, and a moment later they heard him pounding up the stairs.
With a firm hold on her emotions, she turned to Tanner. Instead of the angry look she’d expected, she found him gazing at her thoughtfully, a smile touching his lips.
She could have dealt better with anger.
“Supper…” His smile widened. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Still barbecue night at Delia’s?”
She nodded shortly. The one indulgence she allowed herself and Kevin. Because she could run up a tab at the diner.
“Mm-mmm,” Tanner growled. “About the only thing I like better than your pecan loaf is a plateful of Delia’s barbecue.”
“Really?” She wasn’t about to take the bait for an invitation. “If you don’t mind getting back on task here…As you can see, I have taught my son some manners. Still, I apologize for him, too.”
To her shock, Tanner just shrugged. “To me, seemed like the kid was only looking out for you.”
“To me, too.” For a moment, that feeling of pride pushed her to smile.
He shook his head. “Must be hard, him not having a dad around. Maybe I should talk to him. Teach him a little respect.”
Her smile slid away. “I’m teaching him—”
“Coddling’s not always the best way.”
“You don’t know a thing about it,” she snapped. What had she been thinking, sharing the tiniest moment of understanding with Tanner? He was the enemy, the man who could bring her life tumbling down around her, if he ever found out the truth. “And I can handle my own problems.”
One eyebrow slowly went up. “So, you admit you’ve got trouble with him.”
“Right now, the only trouble I’ve got is with you.” She stalked around him to pick up the clipboard with the team rosters. “Why don’t we settle our business, so you can be on your way?”
TANNER CHECKED OUT the roads around Dillon for a while, then turned back to town just near suppertime. It had been a depressing trip, for more than one reason, and he needed food. Company. And answers.
The reminder of Thursday and barbecue night headed him in the direction of Main Street. Even before he’d left, there hadn’t been much to the town of Dillon, just a couple blocks of businesses. And now there were a lot of vacant properties between Delia’s Diner at one end and The Book Cellar down near the other.
Thinking about the bookstore set him off again. He still fumed from Sarah’s quick run-through of the duty rosters, followed by her cold dismissal. He couldn’t understand her reaction. A single mother, with a young boy running wild. Things couldn’t be easy. He’d only tried to help.
Why had she bothered to co-chair the committee with him?
Maybe she’d caught on at last, made the connection between her kid and his mischief and the other problems going on about town. Of course, Kevin couldn’t account for all the complaints, but Tanner suspected that he was one of several kids involved in this “crime wave.”
Someone would have to keep track of that boy.
And, plain as day, Sarah Lindstrom hadn’t a chance of controlling her misbehaving child. No wonder, with what she said to him two days earlier.
She didn’t have a husband.
He frowned, recalling the tight edge of hurt in her voice when she’d told him. What had happened to the man? She’d had a husband once, someone she used to love.
Yeah, and she used to love him, years ago.
He shoved the thought away.
She hadn’t ever loved him, no matter what she’d said. How could she, when she’d so obviously hooked herself up with another man so soon after he’d left town?
Could be she cared for that other man still, and that’s why her voice carried such hurt?
That thought had him slamming the pickup’s door extra hard behind him.
He strode into Delia’s and sniffed at the tangy smell in the air. Nice to know some things never changed. Not like women.
Scowling, he directed his gaze to the back booth Doc Thompson always claimed as his own. And there the man sat, digging in to one of Delia’s Texas-sized barbecue sandwiches.
Almost everything in the diner came Texas-sized, including the owner herself, who charged around the end of the front counter, a grin splitting her face.
He met her halfway and returned her rib-cracking hug.
She stepped back, put her huge hands on her hips, and shook her head slowly. “Well, whoever would believe it, Tanner Jones, a deputy sheriff. Decided to stay on the right side of the law, huh?”
“Why not?”
Her laugh echoed around the room and bounced off the high ceiling. “Don’t playact innocence with me, boy, after all those times you helped me load stock in here. When all those jelly doughnuts grew legs and walked off with you.”
He shrugged. He’d forgotten about that. “Hell, Delia, those were my tips.”
She laughed till her eyes streamed. “All right, boy, what do you want to do me out of now?”
“Coffee and double special.”
“Coming right up.” She turned away, still chuckling.
When he reached Doc’s booth, the other man nodded at him, his mouth full, but his eyes twinkling.
Tanner slid into the vacant bench seat. It put him with his back to the door, not something he liked.
Doc swallowed. “Delia looks happy to see you.”
“Whatever happened to the Welcome Wagon?”
He laughed and took a swig of coffee. “So. How’s the law and order around town tonight?”
“Orderly.”
Doc eyed him. “Maybe I should’ve said, how’s the lawman.”
Tanner grunted. “Suddenly aware of all the changes around Dillon, and not for the better.”
“Yeah,” Doc said, “we were hit hard when the furniture factory closed its doors. A few of the longtime stores had to follow suit, and some people moved out, looking for work.” He shook his head. “At least the ranchers are still holding on.”
Delia set a platter and coffee mug in front of Tanner, and he dug in. By the time he polished off the first sandwich, he felt more like himself. And now that he’d satisfied a part of his hunger, he planned to do the same for his curiosity. “Tell me something, Doc. What’s with Sarah?”
“Ah.” Doc’s white eyebrows rose. “So that’s what’s got you going. Here, I blamed it on a trip down memory lane.”
“C’mon, Doc.” Some memories were best forgotten. And others…He shook his head. “Wha
t about Sarah? She’s raising that kid of hers alone, running that store by herself. Told me she hasn’t got a husband. What happened to him?”
Doc shook his head. “Don’t know. Never laid eyes on the man, myself.”
“What?” Tanner sat back. “How can that be?” Doc met everyone who set foot in Dillon.
The other man shrugged. “You weren’t the only one to take off years ago. You remember when you phoned a short while later, I told you about Sarah’s daddy getting sick, passing on.”
Tanner nodded. He did remember.
He’d called Sarah before he left town for boot camp, and she’d hung up on him.
A few weeks later, he’d tried her again and found the phone disconnected. With his parents already gone to live closer to his grandparents in Oklahoma, he’d done the next best thing and dialed Doc’s number. But Sarah had closed up the bookstore and left without telling anyone in town where she’d headed.
Tanner winced at the reminder of Sarah’s loss. He’d known her father well, had always liked him, had spent a lot of time with him growing up. And he hadn’t given a thought to offering Sarah his condolences.
He pushed his plate away, not sure even Delia’s barbecue could fill the sudden hollowness he felt deep inside.
“Happened quick,” Doc continued. “After, she went off to live with some relatives out in California, so we heard it later. She doesn’t talk about that time much.”
Tanner frowned. “When did she come back?”
“Just a few weeks before the baby’s birth.”
“With no husband tagging along?”
“Nope. Just her and the baby I delivered shortly after that. They’ve been here ever since.”
“What happened to the father?”
Doc shrugged again. “No use asking me, boy. Couldn’t tell you. You want to find out about Sarah’s coming and goings, you need to ask her yourself.”
He’d tried that, for all the good it had done him.
That didn’t mean he’d given up. He did want to know about Sarah, to learn what had happened to her in the years after he’d gone. Why, he couldn’t say.
Since asking had got him nowhere, he’d try something else. He had other ways to get information.
And detecting skills he could put to good use.
The Sheriff's Son Page 3