by Rachel Lacey
“Oh yeah?” He turned toward her. “Something better?”
“Way better. Director of Marketing and Publicity for an animal rights organization. I’d be planning fund-raisers and events, running their social media. Drumming up money and awareness for animal rights.”
He pulled her in and kissed her. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. You’ve found that one-in-a-million job.”
Her breath hitched. “There’s a catch.”
He slid his fingers through her hair, anchoring her face to his. “I figured.”
“It’s in New York.” She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his.
His exhale was audible. “You should take it. This is your dream job, Liv. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”
“It is, but this is my home. I can find a job that makes me happy here in Dogwood. I know I can.” Because a job was only a job, and there was more to happiness than work.
He kissed her hard. “You should go. If it doesn’t work out, you can always come home. If you don’t, you’ll stand in the thrift store every day wishing you were in New York, saving animals for a living.”
Two tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m in love with you.”
He jerked backward, his black eyes glittering in the darkness. “Liv—”
“Don’t you dare tell me this is just sex for you.” She fisted her hands in his shirt.
His chest heaved beneath her fingers. “You know it’s not.”
“Then tell me what it is.” A tiny bubble of hope bloomed in her heart.
“I don’t know.” His voice was rough, raw. Desperate.
“So take a chance on us, whatever we are, and come with me. I’m quite certain New York is always in need of law enforcement officers.” She tightened her grip on his shirt, anchoring him to her, even as she felt him slipping from her grasp.
“I can’t,” he spoke into the darkness, and she heard the finality in his words, although she refused to pop that bubble of hope still lodged in her heart.
More tears slid over her cheeks. “Then tell me not to go, Pete. Ask me to stay.”
“I would never do that.”
“You’re more important to me than a job. Please. Ask me to stay.”
“Go, Olivia.” He tugged her to her feet and pressed her face against his chest. “You should go.”
The bubble popped then, and her heart collapsed. It shuddered and quivered, but it kept beating. And as she shoved him away, she almost laughed at herself for predicting the awkward drive home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Pete thought this must be what it felt like to take a bullet, and it fucking hurt. He rubbed at his chest. Olivia stood a few feet away, her back to him, typing furiously into her phone.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Calling a ride.”
A ride? “I’ll drive you home.”
“No thank you. Good-bye, Pete.” She went inside his house, closing the door behind her.
He yanked it open and hustled after her through the house and onto his front porch. He reached out but stopped short of touching her. “Let me drive you home.” He paused. “Please.”
She shook her head, her back still to him. “My friend will be here in a few minutes.”
“Olivia—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” Her voice quivered.
That’s exactly what he’d been about to say. And this whole thing sucked, because he was so fucking sorry. For everything. For taking things too far, for letting it get to this point when he’d meant to keep it simple and uncomplicated.
Most of all, for hurting Olivia.
“Go inside, Pete.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the front bumper of the Forester.
So, like a coward, he did. He went inside and left her out there, although the cop in him made him stand in the darkened living room, watching as she waited for her ride to arrive.
It killed him to think of her hundreds of miles away in New York City, living her dream without him, to think of not seeing her. Maybe not ever again.
A few minutes later, a black Kia sedan pulled up in front of his house. Olivia climbed inside without so much as a backward glance, and just like that, she was gone.
* * *
Olivia woke early on Saturday morning, her eyes sore and scratchy with a dull headache throbbing behind them. The pitfalls of crying oneself to sleep.
“Ugh.” She rolled over and wrapped her arms around Hallie, who purred loudly into her ear. “If I bring another man around here anytime soon, remind me it’s a bad idea, okay?”
Hallie pressed her nose against Olivia’s cheek in a show of support.
“You’ll come with me to New York, won’t you?” she asked the kitten.
Hallie rolled belly up as if to say she had no choice in the matter.
“And you.” She pointed her finger at Bailey. “It’s time to find you a home, chica.”
She slid out of bed and wrapped a robe over her pajamas, then went downstairs. While Bailey did her morning business out in the yard, Olivia drank a tall glass of water. She chased that with a green smoothie and—already feeling better—let Bailey back in and went upstairs for a shower.
There would be no moping around for her today. She had a lot to do to get ready for her move to New York. She let the hot water pound away her reservations. Maybe her heart wasn’t quite in it, but her heart had led her astray many times in the past.
Too many times.
This time, she was following her head, and the logical path of action was to jump on an airplane to New York and take this job.
Her phone was ringing as she came back downstairs. It was Maggie. Olivia’s stomach clenched, wondering what Pete might have told her.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning,” Maggie answered.
“Have you talked to your brother?” she asked.
“Uh, no.” Maggie paused. “Should I have?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Maggie sighed into the phone. “Did he do something stupid I’m going to have to kick his butt for?”
“Sort of. And it’s over for us.”
“Crap. I’m so sorry.” Maggie’s disappointment was palpable.
“Thanks. Maybe you and I can keep in touch.”
“I’d like that. Actually that’s what I was calling about. I want to adopt Bailey,” Maggie said.
“Really?” In spite of her lousy mood, Olivia smiled. “That’s awesome. She’s such a great, sweet dog.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about her since I met her last weekend. I think she’s perfect for me.”
“Well that is fantastic news. And I’m sure Merry can fast-track you through the adoption process.”
After she hung up with Maggie, Olivia called Merry to tell her the news about Bailey. Merry promised to come over later with wine to catch up on everything. Olivia then spent the next couple of hours working on her website. It had been a whim to broaden the scope of her new site to the plight of all factory-farmed animals in America, but it seemed to be taking off. She’d already attracted as much traffic to her new site as her Citizens Against Halverson Foods page had achieved after a year of work.
Many of her old followers had found the new site, and she’d garnered a whole new audience as well. People all over the country and even worldwide had clicked through the pages she’d created to detail the lives of factory-farmed animals, the abuses they suffered, and the laws needed to better protect them. They’d commented on her blog posts and sent messages wanting to know how they could help.
And she had a lot of ideas about that.
It was a similar story on Facebook. She’d attracted over five thousand “likes,” surpassing the old Citizens Against Halverson Foods page. It was exciting and invigorating, a new outlet to funnel her passion and energy into, and maybe a way to create real change.
It sure as hell beat sitting around moping over Pete.
Merry arrived just past f
ive, carrying a pizza and two bottles of wine. She set everything on the coffee table and pulled Olivia in for a quick hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Fill me in on what went down last night with Pete, and then please tell me you’re not moving to New York.”
And with a sigh and a fortifying gulp of wine, she settled in to tell the whole sordid tale.
* * *
Pete couldn’t imagine why his mom had asked—insisted actually—that he come to church with her on Sunday morning. It wasn’t at all how he wanted to spend his day off, although maybe anything that kept his mind off Olivia was a good thing.
He walked up the front steps of the Dogwood United Methodist Church, stopping in his tracks as he saw Maggie standing just inside with his mom. Okay, neither he nor his sister regularly attended church, so what in the hell was going on?
“Maggie. Mom.” He leaned in to give them each a kiss on the cheek. “Why are we all here?”
“I’ll cook brunch afterward, and we can talk,” his mom said.
Pete didn’t like the sound of that, but if anything, there was a new twinkle in his mother’s eyes. She looked more alive than she had in years.
Steve Barnes came up the steps then. He clapped Pete on the back and rested a hand on his mom’s shoulder. “Elizabeth. You look lovely this morning.”
“Thank you.” She pressed a hand against her hair and blushed.
Pete decided he’d entered the twilight zone. They all sat together in a pew about halfway back, and after services, Pete and Maggie drove to their mother’s house for brunch.
“You and I are talking later.” Maggie narrowed her eyes and jutted a finger in his direction.
“What?”
“You know what.” The look in her eyes left little doubt.
But how did she know? Jesus, were she and Olivia full-fledged friends now? How had that even happened?
Inside, their mom whipped up a batch of pancakes. She pulled a bacon and cheese quiche and a bowl of fruit salad out of the fridge while the pancakes cooked.
“That looks awesome, Mom,” he said.
“Thanks. You can slice the quiche.” She handed him a knife. “Maggie, you set the table and get out the orange juice.”
They worked together to get brunch on the table and stuffed themselves with good food and easy conversation. After the dishes had been washed and put away, Elizabeth sat them down at the table and folded her hands under her chin. “I signed the papers,” she said.
Maggie clapped her hands. “That’s great. Good for you, Mom.”
Pete released a breath. It was good news after all. “I agree with Maggie. I’m really glad.”
Their mom nodded. “I went to see your father on Friday, and we had a long talk. We agreed it was time to go our separate ways. It’s time to move on with our lives, all of us.” She raised her eyes and gave Pete a meaningful look.
“Here, here.” Maggie raised her glass of orange juice, and they all clinked in a toast.
When they left a half hour later, Maggie followed him to his car. She climbed into the passenger seat. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
She sighed. “When we were growing up, I always admired the hell out of you. I felt like an emotional mess all the time, and you always seemed to have it so together. I was so envious of you. I’ve always wanted to be like you.”
He had no idea where she was going with this, but his throat tightened at her words. “Thanks.”
“But the thing is, now that we’re all grown up, I’m realizing that you don’t have it together as much as I thought you did. I acted out, but you bottled it up inside, so much that maybe now you can’t let go of it.”
“Maggie—”
She shook her head. “Mom’s ready to let go and move on. I think I am too. But are you, Pete?”
“What happened between Olivia and me doesn’t have anything to do with Mom and Dad.”
“Maybe not directly, but you’ve got to let go of the past. You feel guilty about helping get Dad off on that drug charge, but he was sober at the time. I’d have testified for him too if he’d asked me. It’s not your fault he fell off the wagon afterward and drove under the influence. It’s a risk the court took when they decided to put him back on the street.”
He looked out the window. “I let my personal feelings cloud my professional judgment.”
“No you didn’t. You took the stand as his son, not as a deputy. You told the truth to the best of your knowledge. You’re not God, so stop trying to put things on yourself that were completely outside your control.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is.” She put a hand on his shoulder.
“I let it destroy my marriage.”
“Maybe, but you and Rina were just kids. If your marriage had been solid enough, it would have survived. Rina should have been there for you, but she was too wrapped up in her own needs to see that you were hurting.”
He shook his head.
“Forgive yourself. Move on. And for God’s sake, don’t let Olivia move to New York without you.”
He choked on a laugh. “So you two have been talking.”
“I’m adopting Bailey.”
“She pees.” He stared out the front window of the Forester, his mind spinning in a million different directions.
Maggie snorted. “Don’t we all. But Olivia assures me she’s potty trained now.”
“Yeah, I suppose she is.”
“She loves you,” Maggie said.
“Bailey?” He rubbed his brow.
Maggie punched his shoulder. “Olivia, you idiot. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re pretty crazy about her too. Don’t fuck this up. Go after her before it’s too late.”
And with that, she got out of the Forester.
He started to drive home, but the car—or his brain—had other intentions, and he found himself parking in the lot behind the Main Street Café instead. He’d been a coward for a long time where the Hill family was concerned, and it was time to make that right.
He walked inside and asked to be seated in Tamara’s section.
She approached his table with a warm smile. “Pete. It’s good to see you. What can I get you today?”
“Just coffee please.”
“Sure. I’ll be right back with that.”
She returned a few minutes later with a steaming cup of coffee and set it in front of him. “Sure I can’t get you anything else?”
He shook his head. “But there’s something else I need to say, something I should have said a long time ago.”
Her dark eyes clouded as she sank onto the seat across from him and took his hand. “Oh, honey, I know who you are. I know who your dad is. You don’t think I hold that against you, do you?”
Pete straightened in his seat. “You know?”
She nodded. “Well of course. It’s a small town after all.”
“He killed your husband, and I helped put him behind the wheel that night.”
She squeezed his hand. “Tell me.”
“He’d been arrested on an old drug charge, and I testified on his behalf, helped him get off without jail time.”
“Well honey, you did what you thought was right. You didn’t tell your dad to get high and get behind the wheel. He made that decision all on his own.”
He shook his head. “How can you not blame me? You lost your husband.”
Sadness closed over her features. “And I miss him every day. He was a good man. A damn good husband and father. I’ve forgiven your father. He did a terrible thing, but he took responsibility for it, and he’s paying for his crime.”
Pete felt incredibly humbled by her words. “You’ve forgiven him, and I haven’t.”
She looked him in the eye. “You will when you’re ready. Now don’t you waste another minute feeling guilty about what happened to my family. Go on, now, and drink your coffee before it gets cold.”
* * *
Olivia woke Monday morning to a text message from Pete. Her heart
jumped into her throat as she clicked on it.
Press conference this morning outside the courthouse. 9 a.m. Be there.
Disappointment stung in her eyes and tightened her throat. But okay. A press conference? The thrift store didn’t open until ten, so she could go and see what Big Thing Pete had been hinting at all week.
Right after she got over the fact that his text hadn’t included anything personal. No “miss you” or “please stay.” Not that she’d expected him to, but apparently she couldn’t stop herself from being an optimist.
So she got up and got ready and got to the courthouse a few minutes before nine. A crowd had already gathered, and she was happy to lose herself in it. No need to draw anyone’s attention today.
A podium had been set up at the top of the steps, and local news crews were in place. Olivia frowned. What in the world was going on?
Right at nine, the doors to the courthouse opened, and several men stepped out. Olivia recognized one of them as Scott Reilly, the Dogwood County District Attorney.
Interesting. Very interesting.
The district attorney stepped up to the podium. “Good morning, everyone. I’ve called this press conference to inform you that as of this morning Donny Linburgh, the Dogwood County Sheriff, has been removed from office. Lieutenant Watson will serve as interim sheriff until the election.”
The crowd erupted with chatter, cheers, boos, and shouted questions. Olivia clapped a hand over her mouth. The sheriff lost his job? What in the world did that mean, and what did it have to do with her?
The district attorney waved his hands for silence. “It was brought to our attention that Sheriff Linburgh broke the law, and as such, he has been relieved of his duties.”
“Will he face criminal charges?” a reporter asked.
“I can’t discuss specifics at this time, but criminal charges are being considered.”
“What can you tell us about his crime?” another reporter asked.
“The sheriff compromised an ongoing criminal case involving the Halverson Foods chicken-processing plant and committed further illegal acts in order to pursue a personal agenda related to the upcoming election.” District Attorney Reilly looked grim.
Diana Robbins, the reporter from Channel Two who’d interviewed Olivia, raised her hand. “Can you comment on any connection to the string of vandalism aimed at Olivia Bennett, the founder of Citizens Against Halverson Foods, a group that’s been trying to raise awareness about the unfit conditions inside Halverson’s Dogwood facility?”