by Donna Fasano
Mat filled him in as they walked next door to Dakota’s practice. When they arrived, he flipped on the bright overhead lights in one of the examination rooms. “Hop up there on the table and let me have a look at you.” He gathered antiseptic and gauze.
Once Mat had tugged off his shirt, slowly peeling the cloth from his wounded forearm, his brother whistled.
“Going to need at least a couple of stitches.” Dakota turned back to the cabinet for more supplies.
Mat gritted his teeth at the antiseptic’s sting, and he felt the urge to compliment his brother on how fast Dakota managed to numb the wound area with a shot of Novocain.
“I’m getting pretty good at giving needles,” Dakota commented. “It was common practice in med school to allow the nurses to do the prep work, but when one isn’t available…”
“You still haven’t found a nurse?”
His brother shook his head as he touched Mat’s arm near the cut to test for numbness. “I’m getting desperate. My practice is growing. I even have patients coming in from Mountview. I need some help.”
“You have residents of Mountview coming onto the rez to see you?”
Dakota chuckled. “Don’t sound so shocked. I’m a pretty good doctor.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you weren’t. But you’ve got to admit that it’s strange.”
“Yes. I admit that. There are perfectly good doctors practicing in the town of Mountview.”
His brother’s jaw went rigid, and Mat got the clear message that it would be best to let this touchy subject drop.
The two were quiet as Dakota worked to stitch Mat’s skin back together. As he watched the needle being pushed through one side of the cut and out the other, Mat felt himself fill with a chilly anxiety. He could so easily have lost his life. With each knotted suture, his icy fear grew.
“And to think,” he murmured softly, “I brought Grace to Misty Glen because I thought it would be safer here. For both of us.”
Taking this job as sheriff was supposed to ensure that he’d be around to take care of his daughter. But tonight had brought him to the terrible conclusion that he was no more out of harm’s way on the rez than he would be anywhere else. Being a cop was a dangerous job. Period.
Julie’s beautiful face flashed through his thoughts and sweat broke out across his brow.
“You okay?” his brother asked. “Can you feel the stitches?”
“I’m fine.”
That was one of the biggest lies Mat had ever told. He was anything but fine. He was sick. At heart.
While working in New York City, he’d steered clear of getting himself involved with women. However, since moving to Vermont he’d relaxed his guard. He’d thought it safe to allow his emotions a little freedom. But he now realized that coming to care for Julie had been a mistake.
His eyes closed, and the scene that swam behind his lids shook him to the core. He saw Julie’s wan face shrouded in a black veil. He heard her sobs. Saw her eyes wet with tears.
The snip of the scissors returned him to the here and now.
“All set,” Dakota said. “Ten days or so and you’ll be right as rain.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“Keep it clean and dry.” His brother’s head tilted a fraction. “You sure you’re okay?”
He was now. He really was. So he nodded.
As Dakota drove Mat back to the Rusty Nail to pick up his squad car, he suggested that Mat go right home and rest. But Mat had something he had to do before following the doctor’s orders.
His mind felt as numb as his forearm as he drove through the now-tranquil night. He pulled up outside the station house, parked, and got out of the car. As though he was walking in some sort of trance, he went inside. Nodding silently at the dispatcher, he answered no questions. Only made straight for his office.
He closed the door behind him, and then fished in his pocket.
The penny looked dull as it sat in the palm of his hand. Opening the lid of the large jar of coins, he dropped it in.
He hadn’t felt compelled to add to his jar of luck since moving to the rez. But tonight had changed all that. Tonight had taught him that danger lurked everywhere. Even in what seemed to be the safest of places—the rez. He promised himself to go back to adding pennies to the jar every day he returned to the office. Maybe that way, he’d be less likely to lower his guard again.
It was going to crush him to do the right thing. But the right thing was the only thing he could do if he was going to be able to sleep nights.
Putting some distance between himself and Julie was the right thing.
For Julie’s sake.
~oOo~
The clock must be broken. That was all there was to it. There was no other explanation for the way the hands had moved so slowly over the course of the day.
For what felt like the thousandth time, Julie darted a glance at the big numbers centered up there on the wall above the blackboard. How on earth could time move so slowly?
It was Julie’s habit to ask her students to share any news with their classmates. Most mornings she’d form the information into simple sentences that the class would use to practice their printing. However, this morning Grace’s news had almost floored Julie.
The child stood up and announced to everyone that her dad had been stabbed while he’d been on duty the night before. Sudden fear shot through Julie. As gently as possible, she asked Grace if her father was all right. The child said he was, but Julie wanted to see Mat with her own eyes.
The school day dragged on.
Julie had plenty of time to come to understand just how much this stoic and proud man had come to mean to her. She’d lost her heart to him, that much was clear. He’d made it possible for her to trust again. And for that she was grateful. But what she felt for him was more than mere gratitude. Mat had showed that he cared. For her. For her brother.
In a dozen different ways, he’d displayed his intention of sharing—sometimes even lifting—the burdens she carried. He was kind. And he listened. Julie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone really listen to and show an interest in what she had to say or how she felt.
And now she’d discovered that the man she’d fallen in love with had been hurt. Stabbed with a knife.
Anxiety gnawed at her.
Another darted glance at the clock. It was broken. The contraption had to be broken!
But finally the school secretary’s voice came over the public-address system as she made the afternoon announcements. And then the children were released for the day.
“Grace, honey,” Julie said, “come here.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know if your dad’s at home?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. He said he was gonna sleep for a little while and then go back to work.” Grace fidgeted, obviously eager to get out of the classroom. “Granddad is picking me up. In fact, he’s prolly waiting for me.”
Instinct had Julie correcting, “Probably.” Then she added, “Okay, you go on. Don’t keep your grandfather waiting.”
Once the room was empty, Julie straightened her desk quickly, packed her cheery canvas bag with papers that needed grading and then she headed out the door. But rather than walk in the direction of her small house, she turned and made for the police department.
Yes, she could call him, but Mat would surely pooh-pooh her concern. She wouldn’t be satisfied that he was truly okay until she saw him with her own eyes. Felt him under her own fingertips.
She pushed her way through the door and asked the man at the desk if Sheriff Makwa was available.
“Sure,” the dispatcher said, but then a call came over the radio and the phone rang simultaneously, so he jerked a thumb in the direction she should go.
Julie hurried down the short hallway and knocked on the office door.
“Come in.”
Just hearing Mat’s voice sounding so strong had relief washing through her. She walked in and smiled hello.
“She’s fine,” Julie hurried to assure him. “School’s over. She’s with your grandfather. I’m here about you.” She inched closer even though she was overtaken by a bout of self-consciousness. “Grace said you were hurt last night. ‘Stabbed’ was the word she used.”
A tremor forced her to pause. Her chin dipped almost of its own volition and she found herself looking up at him through half-raised lashes. She swallowed, her throat painful with the magnitude of emotion she felt. She whispered, “I’ve been scared to death all day long, Mat. I came because I needed to see for myself that you’re okay.”
Tension hummed in the air. Julie wanted desperately to rush at him and feel the solidness of his shoulders beneath her fingertips. To press her mouth to his. To show him how much she cared. To discover that he really and truly was okay.
However, slowly and inexplicably, the atmosphere changed. Almost as if a crisp breeze blew in through the window, the magnetism that had plucked and pulled at them metamorphosed into something else. Something new. Something that chilled to the point of discomfort.
Mat’s gaze took on an expression that had Julie frowning with bewilderment.
“I appreciate your concern.”
Although his proclamation was spoken softly, the formality in his tone was like an unexpected jab to the solar plexus. Blindsided, Julie fought to remain standing there as if all was well and normal.
What she wanted to do was press both hands to her gut. To open her mouth wide with the shock roiling through her. But she simply stood there.
He didn’t seem the least bit distressed that she’d worried about him all day long. That she’d spent hours fretting over his safety. The apathy he displayed was enough to steal her breath away.
Finally she could remain silent no longer. “What’s wrong, Mat?”
Immediately his gaze dropped to the forms he held in his hands.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He perused the papers. “Why should anything be wrong?”
Without waiting for her to answer, he rounded his desk and sat down.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do, Julie. We made an arrest last night and I have paperwork waiting.”
Julie felt disoriented. Completely confused by his demeanor. It was clear that he was suggesting she leave, but she couldn’t do that.
“Mat,” she said, taking another step into his office, “I… I care about you. I thought… I thought we were…” She swallowed. “F-friends.”
Her tongue tripped over the word and she knew why. She didn’t like the description. It wasn’t accurate. She’d thought they were well on their way to being much more than friends.
His dark gaze leveled on her then. Intense. Concentrated.
“We are friends.”
Julie went utterly still. He was sending a message with that small statement. A clear, unmistakable message.
Friends. That was all they were.
“But I just…” The rest of her thought petered out, her mind was in that much turmoil.
He’d kissed her. He’d desired her. She’d seen it. Felt it.
Hadn’t she?
“Look,” he said, his voice firmer now, “I’m okay. I was involved in a little scuffle last night. Got myself cut. But I’m all stitched up and I’m going to be just fine.” He picked up a manila file folder and stuffed the papers into it. “When you’re in my line of work, you have to expect this kind of thing.”
Still, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe.
His gaze flattened and his mouth drew down at the corners. “Julie, it seems clear that… well, that you thought… that you might have been mistaken about… some things.”
“Mistaken?”
Had that weak utterance really come from her mouth?
He sighed. “I don’t want to do this. As I said, I appreciate your concern. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
It was a dismissal. Another dismissal.
This one she heeded.
As she walked out of the station house, Julie felt almost disembodied. As if she were floating. The click-click of her heels on the pavement was the only evidence that she was actually walking away.
Julie wasn’t just hurt by Mat’s unanticipated, chilly reserve. She felt devastated.
She’d given more of herself to him than she had to any other man—not only her trust, but her heart. And he’d turned a cold cheek to her.
This kind of behavior was familiar to Julie. She’d seen it before. She’d seen it exhibited first by her father, then by her stepfather.
She’d thought Mat was different from the other men in her life. Men who acted caring and giving one moment, cold and distant the next. Men who ruled their environment by oppressing and controlling those around them.
Yes, she’d thought Mat was unique. That he was distinctly different. But she’d learned today that he was just like all the others.
Just like them.
Chapter Seven
Her blazing curls pooled around her shoulders as she leaned her weight on one elbow, her attention focused on something on her desktop. Mat had missed seeing her the past few days, had missed the sound of her voice. However, missing her hadn’t been what had brought him to see her.
His conscience had.
Standing here staring at her wasn’t going to get this chore over and done with. Wanting to let her know she wasn’t alone, he shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat.
She wasn’t expecting anyone. That much he read from the surprise in her expression. But the instant she saw who had come to see her, her green gaze clouded with hurt and something else—something that cut him to the quick.
Wariness.
Well, why shouldn’t she guard herself? Hadn’t he been callous and thoughtless of her feelings? She had every right to want to shield herself from the likes of him.
“Mat.”
Her greeting wasn’t cold, exactly. He had the fleeting thought that he’d somehow have felt better if it had been. At least then he’d know that she still felt something.
Hell, man, his brain railed silently, you have no right to that. It was true. Their situation hadn’t changed. It wasn’t as if he was here to start anything up with her. No, he’d only come to explain. She deserved that much. But the fact that her greeting sounded indifferent… well, he’d be lying if he said that didn’t bother him.
You have no right to feel bothered by anything she chooses to do, his inner voice accused. Again he had to concede.
“Julie.” He nodded and took a tentative step forward. “Are you busy?”
Glancing down at her desk and then back at him, she said, “Actually I am. I’m late with my monthly teacher’s plan. Mrs. Hailey’s expecting it before I leave for the day.”
“Then I won’t keep you.” But rather than making himself scarce as she was plainly suggesting, he continued to inch his way into the classroom. “I came to talk to you.”
“About Grace?”
“No. About…” He couldn’t get himself to say us, so he just let the thought fade. Then he tried again. “About what happened the last time I saw you… about my behavior in my office… when you came by to see me… the day after I got hurt.”
He was talking too much. Surely, she remembered their last meeting. The hurt he’d known she felt would have been hard for her to forget, yet here he was detailing the moment as if it had taken place years ago, rather than days ago.
She put down her pen. Curiosity had her brows drawing together, but her gaze never lost one iota of suspicion. It was clear to Mat that she didn’t intend to allow him to catch her unawares a second time.
Julie rested her chin on her fist. “I’m listening.”
The fact that she hadn’t invited him in, that she hadn’t encouraged him to make himself comfortable, wasn’t lost on him. She wanted him gone as quickly as possible. That was more than obvious.
“First off,” he
said, “I want to apologize.”
Her green eyes were cool, and as deep as Misty Lake after the spring rains. Her beautiful face seemed void of emotion.
He sighed. “When you came to see me, you were concerned for me, for my safety. I disregarded your feelings. I want you to know that I was… wrestling with some things. I’d like to explain those things. To try to help you understand why I was… why I acted the way I did.”
Her expression didn’t change. This was harder than he’d imagined it would be.
Guilt had poked and prodded and needled him. It had occupied his mind while he was in the office by day and kept him from sleeping soundly at night. He hoped rationalizing his behavior to her, apologizing for having disregarded her concern for him, would put all that to rest. Mat felt compelled to press forward even though, from all the outward signs she expressed, she didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
“You see,” he continued, “while I was working as a cop in New York City, I was very careful not to allow myself to… get involved with anyone. I kept a strict distance between myself and… well, any women I might meet.
“Law enforcement is a dangerous profession. I’ve attended more than one funeral where I watched wives and husbands and children sob out their grief over the coffins of their spouses and fathers who had been killed in the line of duty.”
Julie didn’t look disinterested any longer. Slowly, she sat up straighter, her hands sliding into her lap, her gaze fighting with a pensive intensity while she listened in attentive silence.
“When Grace entered my life,” he went on, “I was scared to death. Scared that something would happen to me and I would end up leaving her all alone. So I came home. I moved back to the rez thinking that I was safer here. That I could cheat death by working in what I’d thought was a peaceful place.” He swallowed, shifted his weight. No man liked to admit he was wrong, that he’d come to an erroneous conclusion.
“I relaxed my guard, Julie.” He forced himself to level his gaze on hers. He needed her to understand just how sorry he was that he’d allowed a relationship to develop between them. “I allowed myself to believe I was safe. I allowed myself to… well, to become too friendly. With you.