Falling for the Sheriff

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Falling for the Sheriff Page 17

by Tanya Michaels


  Because it’s the truth. But it was only part of the truth. He’d screwed up. Staring out the window into the darkness, he promised himself that he’d find a way to make it up to her.

  * * *

  KATE HAD BEEN so caught up in the emotional upheaval of her evening that she’d completely forgotten to call Gram. When her cell phone rang and Gram’s picture flashed on the screen, shame filled her. It was now fifteen minutes past when Luke was supposed to have been home. Gram was probably worried sick.

  “Luke’s with me,” she said as soon as she answered the phone. “There was...a bit of a problem at the diner where he and his friends stopped, so I’m giving him a ride home.”

  “Oh, well, I’m glad to hear that! Not the problem part, of course. But that you know where he is and I don’t have to break the news to you that he missed curfew.”

  “We’ll be home in ten minutes,” Kate said, “maybe less.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, dear, I’m going to turn in. See you in the morning? Oh, and in case I forget, Mrs. Abernathy apparently referred you to some other moms she knows. You had two calls from parents who want to meet with you. I wrote their numbers on the pad by the phone.”

  “Thanks, Gram.” Kate bit her lip, thinking about the latest trouble Luke was in and the trouble they’d collectively caused since arriving. “Before I meet with any other prospective clients, are you sure you’re okay with this parade of people in and out of the house?” Tomorrow was shaping up to be a busy day.

  Gram chuckled. “Are you kidding? I haven’t had so many visitors in years! Patch is in heaven.” She sighed. “It’s been lonely since I lost Jim. You and Luke have done so much to change that. I’ll miss you if the two of you ever move.”

  “We’re not planning on going anywhere,” Kate said.

  “Well...you never know, dear. You’re still young. You may build a home elsewhere.”

  A home, or a family? From the sly, expectant tone in Gram’s tone, she was hoping tonight’s date with Cole had gone well. Thinking about it still mortified Kate. She’d wanted him so badly, yet...when she could have had him, she’d freaked out. Sophisticated sex goddess, she was not.

  Kate wished her grandmother a good night, then disconnected. Ever since Rick Jacobs had called her, she’d been too furious with Luke’s bad judgment to question why he’d bothered to steal a few bucks anyway. After all, this was the same kid who’d once inexplicably snatched a candy bar. But now, she couldn’t help wondering, had his getting in trouble tonight been an attempt to sabotage her date?

  She tried not to think that, on some level, she might have been glad for the excuse to leave.

  * * *

  FRIDAY PASSED WITHOUT Kate talking to Cole. As he’d warned when he said Thursday was their best option for dinner, his Friday was pretty busy. As was hers. So she managed to escape the day without any cringe-worthy rehashing of what had happened between them.

  He left her two voice mails, and she sent him a text assuring that she and Luke were both okay and that she and Cole would talk soon. He’d wanted to come with her last night to the diner, but she’d refused. Partly because she’d desperately needed space and also because it was awkward when your boyfriend was the sheriff and your son was exhibiting criminal tendencies.

  Now that Friday was over, Kate wanted to slip into the oblivion of slumber and forget everything for a few hours. Heaven knew she should be exhausted. Last night, she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. But two hours after she’d retired to bed, sleep still eluded her. Insomnia: 2, Sullivan: 0.

  Aggravated, she flipped over on her stomach. She never slept on her stomach, but she’d already tried both sides and lying on her back. Nothing was working. She had too many thoughts and worries buzzing through her, as well as a growing regret that she’d avoided speaking to Cole. Coward.

  He’d been so patient and understanding with her, but patience wasn’t infinite. How long would his last before he decided to wash his hands of her and find someone with fewer issues?

  In addition to her emotional turmoil over the sheriff, she still had to decide what to do with her son. At lunch today, he’d broken down and told a convoluted story about how Sarah’s cousin had bullied Sarah into stealing the five dollars. Either Luke was lying or Sarah was a thief or her cousin was a bully—possibly a combination of all three. While the details were fuzzy, she had the sense that he’d acted out of misguided teen nobility to protect Sarah, probably to make amends for the cruel way he’d spoken to her earlier in the week. But, honestly, when was her kid going to start learning from his mistakes and show better judgment? Had she moved him away from one peer group full of bad influences just to get him involved with another that was equally questionable?

  Okay, lying on her stomach wasn’t doing a damned thing to soothe her. She was half-heartedly entertaining the notion of a shot of whiskey when the phone rang, causing her to sit straight up in bed. It was pretty late for a call, especially in Cupid’s Bow. Across the hall, she heard gentle snoring in her grandmother’s room, so she hurried to the kitchen to grab the phone before the caller woke the entire household.

  “Hello?” she said, keeping her voice low.

  “Kate?” The woman on the other end of the phone sounded unsteady. “It’s Gayle Trent. I—”

  “Oh, God.” She clutched the receiver so tightly the plastic creaked in protest. Her heart stopped. “What happened to him?” There was only one reason the sheriff’s mother would call her in the dead of the night.

  “He’s all right, dear. He’s in stable condition, and the doctor says he may not even have to stay the night. But I thought you should know.”

  Kate was suddenly shaking so badly she couldn’t stand. She sat straight down on the floor, not bothering with the distance between her and the nearest chair. “Cole’s at the hospital?”

  “Yes. Deputy Thomas told us they answered a domestic disturbance call tonight. Cole was stabbed. An...an anterior stab wound, the doctor said. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to be...” Her voice caught, broke.

  There was a sob and rustling, then a male voice. “Kate? It’s Will. I’m here with Mom and Dad. Cole’s going to be all right,” he said fiercely. “They’re just running tests to make sure there was no perforation or occult trauma. We should be able to see him soon.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Kate said.

  He laughed, a brief rusty sound. “You can’t make it to the hospital from Whippoorwill Creek in ten minutes.”

  The hell she couldn’t.

  But reality caught up to her as she fished her car keys out of her purse. For starters, she probably shouldn’t show up to the hospital in nothing but a nightgown. And it would be irresponsible to leave in the middle of the night without writing a note that said where she’d gone and when she expected to be back. Plus, the last thing she wanted was to cause any accidents in her haste to get to the hospital, so she resolved to stick to the speed limit. More or less.

  It was a fight, though, to keep her foot from mashing the accelerator through the floor. Her rush was twofold. Not only did she need to get to the hospital, to see Cole with her own two eyes, she needed to outrun the horrible, ice-cold déjà vu running through her veins. I can’t do this again. I can’t.

  She clung to Will’s assurance that Cole would be okay. This was completely different than when she’d rushed to the hospital the night Damon was shot—too late to say goodbye. The memories haunted her, overlapping with reality, and by the time she parked in the visitor’s deck, scalding tears poured down her face.

  Will was waiting for her, his handsome face haggard with worry. But he tried to cover his own concern with a smile. “No tears, darlin’. My brother is ornery, much harder to take down than this. I promise. Mom and Dad are in with him now. He asked me to take you straight back when you arrived.”

&nbs
p; She mumbled something that might have been thank you, but she wasn’t sure. Words had lost meaning. She was only processing half of what Will said. She felt as if she were trying to walk on the ocean floor. Sound and movement were distorted, and she felt cold all over.

  The world didn’t start to right itself again until she stepped into the partitioned room where Cole sat on a hospital bed with an IV in his arm. His family stepped out to give them a moment of privacy, and Kate went straight to him, running her hand over his bare chest, needing to feel the solid heat of him. Normally, she appreciated any chance to see him shirtless, but the large white bandage covering the side of his torso made her want to vomit. She tried to muffle her cry with her hand and failed miserably.

  “Kate, I’m okay.” He started to put an arm around her, then cast an impatient glance at the machines monitoring his vitals. He wasn’t especially mobile, and he had to be in pain. “Look at me, I’m okay.”

  “This time!” What about the next time someone was drunk and disorderly? Or if he pulled over the wrong motorist? Or the day some crackpot figured out how to successfully get a gun into the courthouse? “You were lucky.”

  His lips quirked in a wry half smile. “If getting stabbed is your idea of good luck, I’d hate to—”

  “Please don’t joke. Not about this. Not about your safety.” She was backing away from him as she spoke, as if her being here was somehow dangerous to him. No, his being close is a danger to you. What had she been thinking? How could she let herself fall for another man, especially the sheriff? She’d known it was a bad idea, but he’d won her over with his patient coaxing and his devilish blue eyes and how great he was with his girls.

  “I can only imagine how hard this is for you,” he said, holding out a hand, trying to draw her back to him. “I wish my mom hadn’t called you, but—”

  “Her not calling wouldn’t have changed the fact that you’re hurt. Just like my ignoring the risks won’t save me from getting hurt. I knew better!” She glanced at him and for a second, in the double vision of her tears, there were two Coles.

  Both were shaking their heads at her. “Don’t do this,” he insisted. “You’re overreacting because of your past, because you lost Damon.”

  “I’m not reacting to my past—it’s too late to change that—but I am trying to safeguard my future. Because I finally, vividly, understand how much you could break my heart. I can’t...” I can’t do this again. She swallowed hard, determined to choke out the last words. He at least deserved to hear her say them. “Goodbye, Cole.”

  * * *

  WHEN LUKE GOT up Saturday morning, he knew as soon as he left his room that something was wrong. On the way to the bathroom, he heard mom and Gram talking in weirdly hushed voices, the kind he recognized from after his dad’s death. His first fear was that they were talking about him. What if that stupid five dollars in tip money turned out to be his mom’s breaking point and she was considering something drastic, like sending him off to military school or something? Then he heard the words stab and hospital.

  “Gayle called me with an update while you were in the shower,” Gram said.

  Gayle Trent? Luke suddenly realized that they were discussing the sheriff. Cole Trent had been stabbed? Panic twisted in Luke’s gut. Aly and Mandy shouldn’t grow up without a dad. No kid should have to grow up without a dad!

  When his grandmother added, “He’s at home and doing better,” Luke sagged in relief, reaching out to support himself against the wall.

  “But he’s plenty ticked off,” Gram added. “I can’t believe you dumped a stab victim while he was still in the hospital.” She sounded disappointed. There was a lot of that going around in the house lately.

  Wait, Mom had broken up with the sheriff? Luke wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He hadn’t liked Cole—it was impossible to like someone you suspected was trying to get your mother in bed. But she’d looked so happy the other day.

  “Gram, I can’t. Not again. I made myself way too vulnerable. I suppose I should be glad Luke hated us dating. What if he’d gotten attached? He’s already lost so much. How would it have affected him if he and Cole bonded, then we broke up? Or Cole got... If he...”

  She was crying. Luke fisted his hands in helpless frustration.

  Gram’s voice was soothing now, not chiding. “I understand the desire to protect yourself and your son. But how much can you realistically shelter yourself? Just getting into a car can be dangerous, yet people do it every day.”

  “People need to get places. I don’t need to date the town sheriff.”

  It got very quiet in the kitchen, and Luke wondered if they were done discussing the subject. He should go. He was in enough trouble without his mother catching him eavesdropping. Just as he turned to leave, he heard Gram make one last point.

  “I love you, dear, and it was a tragedy your husband was taken from you so young, but you’re not the only one who’s lost the man you love. Don’t you think I’d give anything I had for one more day with my Jim? Even if I knew I’d lose him again afterward, I’d cherish that limited time. Because, really, that’s all any of us have, even in the best of situations—limited time.”

  It was a morbid thought for a sunny Saturday morning, but, as Luke crept away, he couldn’t get the words out of his head.

  * * *

  ALTHOUGH THE DOCTOR had only technically cleared Cole for desk duty, to reduce the risk of his popping his stitches, by Thursday Cole was desperate for more to do. An abyss of misery yawned at his feet, waiting to swallow him whole whenever he was inactive. Thankfully, his brother took pity on him.

  “You can’t help set up the booth,” Will stressed when he picked up Cole in his truck. “But you can supervise and delegate. The guys will listen to you. Then once we’re in good shape for the festival kickoff tomorrow, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  This week was all about festival preparation, but Cole had never cared less about the damned Watermelon Festival. This year, it was simply a reminder that his date for Sunday never wanted to see him again. And to add insult to injury, in about forty-eight hours, he would probably be purchased for a date with Becca Johnston.

  Hell, maybe he should just go out with her anyway. He’d say this for her, she was stalwart. Not the type to head for the hills over something as minor as a paltry stabbing.

  As soon as he’d seen Kate’s pale face in the hospital, he’d known. They were over, practically before they’d begun. He wasn’t sure which of them he was angrier at—her, for prioritizing fear over what they could have had together; or himself, because she’d warned him since day one that she was still too fragile for a relationship with him and he hadn’t listened.

  Trying to push Kate from his mind, he climbed out of Will’s truck, calling greetings to other firemen who were helping erect a booth for safety demonstrations and the stage for the auction that would ultimately benefit the fire department. For about half an hour, he actually managed to convince himself he was being useful. It was the closest he’d come to approaching cheerful in days.

  But it was damned difficult to push someone from your mind when she was walking toward you with a hesitant expression and a banner painted with pink letters that were outlined in green and flecked with black. Seeing her knocked him so off guard that it took him a second to realize the letters were supposed to represent slices of watermelon.

  “Hi.” She approached carefully, as if he were a feral animal. Truthfully, there had been moments over the past few days when that seemed like an accurate description of his mood.

  “Hi.” He let his gaze flick in her direction without lingering on her. Looking at her was too painful. “So, you got pressed into volunteer service, huh?”

  “Gram thought I could use the...”

  Distraction. Did that mean she’d been moping around the farm? Was it possible Kate was missing him as muc
h as he missed her?

  “How’s the wound healing?” she asked. “Gram’s been giving me updates from your mom, but I guess I need to hear it for myself. How are you?”

  He made himself meet her gaze then, letting her see exactly how he was doing. He was miserable. She might be worried about the stabbing, but her words to him at the hospital had sliced through him with far more pain and destruction than that blade.

  “I...” She dropped her gaze, but not before he caught the tears glistening on her lashes. “I’m sorry I interrupted. I saw you here and had to check to see if you were okay.”

  No. I’m not. “I’ll live.” Which was more than she allowed herself to do. Cole knew seeing him in the hospital had to have been emotionally wrenching, but in retrospect, he couldn’t help wondering if she would have found a reason to end things anyway. She’d obviously been conflicted at his house Thursday night, then she’d avoided him the following day. If his injury hadn’t prompted her mad dash to the hospital, would she have continued to avoid him? Would she have gone longer and longer without returning his calls and eventually found an excuse, such as her son’s antics, to keep from being Cole’s date to the festival?

  Although the idea of her with another man caused Cole to grind his teeth in jealous fury, he would rather see her on another guy’s arm than watch her hide behind fear and the hostilities of a thirteen-year-old. Kate was a passionate, bighearted woman with a lot of love to give. If only she were brave enough to let herself.

  The silence between them had passed awkward about six seconds ago, and Cole sighed, knowing he should cut her loose. “Thanks for checking on me. I hope you and Luke have fun at the festival this weekend. Don’t let your grandmother or anyone else work you too hard.”

  “Thanks. I...I hope you feel better soon.”

  And then she was gone. He wanted so badly to chase after her, to implore her to change her mind. But he’d been coaxing and cajoling since they’d met. There was a line between patiently wooing, and stalking. Besides, he had his pride—or at least the tattered remains of it.

 

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