by Katie Ruggle
Chapter 14
Stocking shelves was oddly soothing, Sarah found. She was glad, because her life at the moment needed some soothing. Taking the last spool of rope out of the box, she added it to the display and then sat back on her haunches.
“How’s it going?” asked Grady—who, it ended up, both owned the store and wore overalls every day.
“Good.” She stood, picking up the box and taking a final glance at the neat rows of various sizes and types of rope. “It’s very satisfying.”
At Grady’s silence, she glanced over to see him looking at her oddly.
“What?”
“You’re a strange one.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t the first time she’d been told that.
“Need you to watch the register for a while.”
“Okay.” She headed for the front. Ringing people up wasn’t as calming as stocking the shelves, but it was interesting. Just in the few days that she’d worked at Grady’s, Sarah felt like she’d met everyone left in town. Grady had a habit of disappearing for an hour or so in the afternoons. Grace’s theory was that he was watching Tattered Hearts. Sarah loved the idea that the crusty old guy was addicted to a soap opera.
Her first customer proved her wrong about having met everyone. The man was very nondescript-looking—average height, average weight, average brown hair and eyes—but Sarah was pretty sure that she hadn’t seen him before.
“Hi.” The bar code on the spool of wire wasn’t wanting to scan, so she entered the numbers by hand. “I’m Sarah.”
The man studied her for a long moment. “Norman Rounds.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” He was quiet while she finished scanning the rest of his items.
“That’ll be forty-four dollars and two cents.”
As he handed her the exact amount in cash, he spoke again. “Are you the Sarah staying out at the cop’s place? The one with all the animals?”
An instinctual jolt of fear shot through her, and she caught herself right before she lied and denied it. Aaron, Jeb, and Logan were all locked up. They couldn’t hurt her now. “That’s me.” She bit back the urge to clarify that she was only there temporarily. The longer she lived with Otto, the less she wanted to leave. Sarah wasn’t sure how Otto felt about her staying, though. He hadn’t kissed her since right before they’d slept—just slept—together, and she’d catch him staring at her with an odd expression. She knew she needed to talk to him, but she didn’t want to know if he was just no longer interested. That would hurt. A lot.
She handed Norman Rounds his receipt, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he asked, “Where are you from?”
“Iowa.” For some reason, she’d never picked up a Texas accent, so Mr. Espina had her pick her imaginary home state. To her, Iowa had always seemed like an ideal place to grow up. She pictured helping with the chores as part of a big farm family—kind of like a modern-day Little House on the Prairie. Now that the cops, Grace, and Jules knew her story, she supposed that she could’ve said Texas, but she liked pretending that happy farm upbringing had really happened.
“Hmm.” He studied her for so long that she shifted uncomfortably.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No.” He picked up his bags, looking secretly amused. “I think I have everything I need for now.”
As she watched him leave the store, Sarah felt a little shiver of unease ripple through her. “Stop it,” she muttered. “You have enough real bad guys in your life. Don’t be inventing more.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Whipping her head around, she saw Otto leaning against the counter. Her heart did the usual hop, skip, and jump it always did around Otto, and she smiled. “Hey! I’m just mumbling to myself. Organizing the back room made me a little batty, I think.”
He smiled back, that slow, honestly happy smile that always dazzled her.
“Shouldn’t you be home sleeping?”
“I’m headed that way. I promised Theo I’d pick up more milk replacer for the puppies.”
“How are they doing?” she asked. Sarah realized that she was leaning forward, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter, as if her body instinctively wanted to get as close as possible to Otto.
“Good. Fat.” He rolled his eyes. “Theo and Hugh fight over them like a pair of fussy nannies.”
“Mannies?”
The breathtaking smile came again. “I like it. How’s your shift going?”
“A tiny bit boring and a whole lot satisfying.”
“You’ve been stocking shelves again.”
“Exactly.” Her own smile faded. “Has the FBI picked up Aaron and the others yet?”
“Not yet. There’s an issue with the paperwork that had to be ironed out. Lieutenant Blessard said it should just be a few more days, though.”
Her stomach churned at the thought of Aaron being in the same town as her, even though he was behind bars. Jeb had admitted under questioning that Logan had come along so that they could use his police status to more easily kidnap her. Even though Aaron had been locked up, he’d still managed to get to her. If they hadn’t been in Monroe, it probably would have worked, too.
Otto interrupted her gloomy thoughts. “I’m hoping they get them out of here before the snow hits.”
Peering out the front windows into the gray parking lot, Sarah snorted. “If it ever snows. It keeps threatening, but I haven’t seen a single flake.”
“Be glad.” Reaching over, he gave her a teasing poke in the ribs. “Once it snows here, it never seems to stop until June.”
With a laughing yelp, she twisted away. When he dropped his hand, disappointment filled her, and she resolved to talk to him the next morning. She wanted—no, needed—more kissing.
Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she glanced through the window again. Her view of the parking lot was narrow, but she could see a sedan parked in front of the store. The engine was running, judging from the stream of exhaust drifting from the tailpipe into the cold air, and someone sat in the driver’s seat. Her mind immediately went to Aaron, and she stiffened. Could he have called in someone else? Even with him, Logan, and Jeb locked up, she still didn’t feel completely safe.
“What’s wrong?” Otto moved around so he was between her and the window.
“I’m just being paranoid.” Despite her effort to make her voice casual, her words had a tremor. “Who’s in that car out there?”
Otto moved closer to the window, and Sarah’s throat tightened. What if it was one of Aaron’s lackeys, and he had a gun? Her stomach clamped as she imagined the bullet shattering the window and burying itself in Otto’s massive chest.
“Wait…” she said, going after him.
“Huh.” He sounded curious and much too casual for the driver to be a bad guy. Sarah’s knees wobbled with relief, and she moved back to the register so she could lean back against the wall behind it. “I haven’t seen him in a few months.”
“Who?”
“Norman Rounds.”
“Oh!” She instantly felt silly. Of course it was Norman. He’d just been shopping, so he’d gone out to warm up his car before driving away. Her paranoia was getting the best of her. “He was just in here.”
“Was he?” Otto turned back to face her. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Just introduced himself. Oh, and he asked if I was the Sarah living with you.” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I mean, staying with you.”
“Hmm…” His face was serious, making her wonder if she should worry. “Did he say anything else?”
Sarah mentally ran through their conversation. “Not really. Why? What’s his story?”
“He’s involved with the local militia leader, Gordon Schwartz. For a while, Rounds was a suspect in an explosion that destroyed Jules’s barn.”
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br /> “Oh!” Her eyes rounded as she thought of the innocuous man who she’d just introduced herself to, and his purchases—wire and batteries and motor oil and wool socks—became much more sinister. Except maybe the socks. It was hard to think of any nefarious use for socks, unless he put a bunch of nickels in one or something. “He’s a bad guy, then?”
“No, not a bad guy. He was cleared of the barn explosion, plus he almost died saving Jules’s life. When we tried to question him about it, he denied all knowledge and then disappeared.”
“So mostly good with a side of shady?”
Otto grinned. “I like how you put things.”
A pleased flush heated her cheeks as she smiled back at him. They were quiet, just looking at each other for a long moment until Otto cleared his throat.
“I should get that milk replacer.” His voice had a little more growl in it than usual.
“Right.” Sarah shook her head to clear it. More and more lately, she’d been caught in an Otto-related daze. Once again, she resolved to talk to him about where they were headed. “You need to get home and get some sleep. When are the chief and the rest of the officers back from training?”
“Four days—well, nights.” He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand, as if her mention of sleep had triggered it. “Then I get a week off. Can’t wait.”
“Me, either.” Her own sleep was still sketchy, even in the bunker with a full squadron of animals. The house felt so isolated and empty at night without any other humans in it.
Nan, the kennel owner, approached the register with a couple heated water bowls, and Otto backed away. “I’ll be right back.” He paused, as if he was about to say something else, but then turned and walked away.
With a small smile, Nan looked back and forth between Otto’s back and Sarah. “You and Otto, huh?”
Forcing a noncommittal smile, Sarah scanned the tags on the water bowls. She was hoping for a her-and-Otto, but they weren’t there yet.
“That’s great,” Nan said, obviously misinterpreting Sarah’s silence. “He has a huge heart. It’s about time he fit a person in there along with all those animals.”
Sarah’s smile became more genuine. She liked the image of her squeezed into Otto’s heart, surrounded by Xena and Mort and Bob and Bean and Hortense. What a wonderful place to be.
* * *
When Sarah got home that afternoon, she expected that Otto would be sleeping. Instead, he was waiting on the porch, Mort and Xena next to him. Her heart skipped when she saw him. That was the hardest part of her job—she didn’t get to spend as much time with Otto. She parked next to Otto’s truck, and then climbed out. The wind cut through her jacket and shirt, and she shivered. Mort trotted over to greet her, but Xena was more tentative, slipping around behind Sarah to poke her cold nose into her palm.
As Sarah headed toward the porch, she had to fight to keep from jogging toward Otto. It was hard. Otto seemed to have a strong magnetic pull that reeled her in whenever she was close to him.
“Hi,” she said as she climbed the steps, the dogs close behind her. “I thought you’d be sleeping. Did you manage to get tonight off?”
He grimaced slightly. “No break for me until the other officers get back from training. I slept earlier.”
“Oh.” She took another step toward him and then paused. Any closer, and she’d be in his personal bubble. It wasn’t that she would mind, but she wasn’t sure how he’d feel about that. “Where are you headed?”
“I’m going to work with Bean. Want to help?”
“Yes.” The word popped out quickly, but a sharp gust of wind reminded her of the cold. “Let me get a few more layers on, and I’ll join you. I can meet you at the barn.”
“I’ll wait.” He moved to the porch support and leaned against it. “Do you have enough warm clothes? I have a stack of things in the bunker. You could take some of those.”
“I’m good.” She smiled at him as she lingered by the door, taking him in. It was silly, since she’d just seen him earlier that afternoon, but she’d missed him. “Besides, your clothes would be huge on me. Remember the T-shirt I borrowed?”
“I remember.” The blue flame in his eyes smoldered.
Her gaze was caught by the heat in his until another cold blast of wind hit her, and she was able look away. “I’ll be right back.” She slipped into the house before she could do something silly like hurl herself into his arms. For some reason, she was as breathless as if she’d sprinted around the house a few times. For some reason, the voice in her head mocked, and Sarah couldn’t blame it. She knew perfectly well what—or who—had stolen her breath. It happened every time she got near Otto.
She hurried to her room and pulled on some layers. When Grace and Jules had encouraged her to buy long underwear and fleece-lined sweatshirts and thick wool socks the first time she’d visited Grady’s, Sarah had thought they were exaggerating what she’d need. It hadn’t been an exaggeration, though. She’d worn every piece of her new wardrobe, especially now that she was at Otto’s, where buildings didn’t block the worst of the wind like they did in town. If it was this cold already, then winter was going to be brutal. With a shiver at the thought, she zipped her jacket over her multiple layers and grabbed her hat before running back down the stairs.
As promised, Otto was waiting for her on the porch. His gaze ran over her in a way that overheated her, making her warm clothes unnecessary. He didn’t say anything, just held out his hand.
She gripped it, loving the gesture, even if it was glove to glove rather than skin to skin. When they reached the barn, he released her in order to open the door, and Sarah felt instantly and illogically colder. As they cut through the barn, Otto grabbed a halter and lead rope off a hook next to the single, oversized stall.
“That’s a huge stall,” Sarah said as she followed him toward the paddock gate.
He gave her a slightly sheepish look over his shoulder. “It used to be two, but Bean and Hortense like to room together.”
“Makes sense.” It was hard to keep her tone even when her heart was squeezed so tightly. The idea that this burly man took out the connecting stall wall so that Bean wouldn’t be as scared was so sweet that tears burned Sarah’s eyes. She quickly blinked them back. “Was Hortense a rescue, too?”
“A couple of years ago, I went on a call for a stolen vehicle case we’d been working on with the sheriff’s department. We found the stolen cars in the barn, and Hortense was in there, too. She was pretty much a mess—wormy, mangy, and so skinny you could see every one of her ribs, but she wasn’t skittish or scared at all.” He smiled as he held the gate for her. “She walked right up to me and started chewing on my jacket sleeve. Her owner was going to jail, and he said he didn’t care if I took her. I just had a squad car there, though, so I convinced the deputy to let me load Hortense into the back of her SUV. Even now, when I see that deputy, she tells me that her squad car still smells like goat poop.”
Sarah laughed at the image, feeling a surge of compassion toward the goat that was now trotting toward them. “You sure have a soft spot for animals in need.” And people. She pushed away the thought that he might just be interested in her because of her situation. If that were true, though, he’d have gone after Jules or Grace. Her sad story paled in comparison to theirs.
He shrugged slightly as he dug in his pocket for a treat. “I think every animal deserves to feel safe.”
That simple statement hit Sarah hard. Until she’d run to Monroe—no, until she’d moved in with Otto—she had never felt safe. Now that she’d gotten a taste of it, she knew that she would fight with everything she had to keep that feeling—for her, and for everyone she was coming to love. She couldn’t think of how to respond to him, how to express her thoughts, so she stayed quiet. As she watched him feed Hortense, she leaned against his other side, wanting that contact, that connection. He put his arm around her,
drawing her closer, and she wallowed in his touch, in his kind and protective nature. At that moment, she decided that she was going to enjoy every second she was given with him. Even if she was forced to run, if she was ripped away from the first place that had offered her security and friends and freedom, she didn’t want to leave with regrets.
“I want to…” She trailed off, distracted by what she saw in his hand. “What on earth are you feeding Hortense?”
“Cheetos.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “They’re her favorite treat.”
“Of course they are.” Now that the mood had changed, she decided to keep her revelation to herself. “No one can resist that orange fake-cheese stuff. Wouldn’t, I don’t know, some kind of vegetable be healthier?”
“Probably. I figure a few won’t hurt.”
“That’s true.” A movement caught her eye. “Bean is very sneakily headed this way. Does he get Cheetos, too?”
“Carrots,” he said without looking at the horse standing just six feet away from them. As Bean sidled a little closer, Otto put a chunk of carrot on his palm and extended his flat hand toward the horse. Stretching his neck so he could reach without stepping closer, Bean took the piece of carrot and then retreated several feet to chew it as he watched them warily.
“Is he rideable?” Sarah asked, leaning more heavily against Otto.
“Yes, but we’re taking it slow. I want him to enjoy work, not to fear it. No reason to rush things. We’ve got time.”
For some reason, that made her want to cry. Otto and Bean had time, but did she? Did they? Blinking, she focused on Bean, who’d started his sneaky sidle toward them again. Otto, occupied with giving Hortense a Cheeto, didn’t have a carrot waiting, but Bean still stretched his neck out…and snatched Otto’s hat. The horse, his prize dangling from his mouth, took off for the other side of the pasture.
“What?” Otto reached toward his now-bare head, looking startled. Sarah began to laugh. Still holding on to the hat, Bean trotted along the fence, head and tail up.
Sarah laughed harder until she had to bend over and hold her stomach. “Sorry!” she gasped between breaths. “He just looks so…proud.” That set her off again.