Falling for the Lawman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “She was scared.”

  “And rightfully so,” Zach told her. “Those guys played for keeps and killing a witness wouldn’t have made them lose any sleep. So she’s worried about the night she broke parole and went out drinking?”

  “Yes.” Piper leaned forward, earnest. “But she’s willing to do whatever it takes to fix things. She realizes her choices will mess up the girls’ futures. So she wants to come clean and do her time now. But we don’t know how to do that and I didn’t want your bosses to think you’re bad or crooked or just plain stupid for being involved with a woman who already had a reputation with a bad cop. And now has a felon living under her roof.”

  “That’s all?”

  She frowned as if he were deaf. “Don’t get smart with me, Zach. You just got handed a well-deserved promotion. I won’t be responsible for ruining your career. End of story.”

  It wasn’t the end of the story at all, but he let that pass for the moment. “You avoided me to save me?”

  “Well. Yes.”

  “Because you care that much?”

  No way could she gaze into his eyes, hear the gentle rumble of his voice and pretend not to care. “Yes.”

  He stood and drew himself up to his full height, then reached down and pulled her up, too. “Do I look like I need saving?”

  “Zach, I—”

  “Or like I can’t make up my own mind about who to love? How to spend my days?”

  “Zach, we—”

  He hushed her with a kiss. He was done with words. Done with explanations. Done with anything that pulled them apart. When he finally drew back, he cradled her face between his two broad hands and smiled at her.

  “How did you think you’d avoid me, Piper? I live next door.”

  “That part of my plan fell apart about an hour into it,” she admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanting to see you.” She let her gaze drop to his mouth. “Kiss you.”

  “Glad to oblige,” he whispered as his lips found hers again. “And the next time you assume you’re going to ruin my life, fill me in ahead of time, okay? It’s so much more fun to mess things up together.”

  * * *

  At that moment, with his lips against hers, she couldn’t disagree.

  When he drew back, smiling, he tweaked her nose. “Kissing you is preferable to not kissing you. Keep that in mind for future reference.”

  “Speaking of the future.” She worried her lip and shifted topics. “If we succeed in making the town back down tomorrow night, you’ll have one more reason to want to walk away from me and possibly never look back.”

  “Our proximity makes that improbable and my feelings impossible, but spill it. What else could you possibly hit me with today?”

  “Yogurt.” She laid out Moose’s information for Zach. “That means more work. More farm. More cows. Basically everything you ran from.”

  He mulled that as his father stepped out of the milking parlor. “I think God does that on purpose sometimes. To teach us a lesson. And I’m not foolish enough to think that being in love with a cop is easy business. There’s a level of concern that goes higher when you’re on the force, but you never scold about that.”

  “Because you love what you do,” she told him.

  Her sincerity deepened his smile.

  “When you love someone, you try to support them. What they do, what they love. It’s not my job to change you.” She shrugged, honest to the core. “And the fact that you’re totally hot in the uniform buys you serious points.”

  “Good to hear.” The warmth of his smile shifted her world back into focus. “You put up with the downsides of loving a guy with a badge. I’ll deal with the farm stuff. But right now—” he released her as his father drew closer “—Dad and I have an errand to run.”

  “And I interrupted your deck work again.”

  “Do you see me complaining?”

  His tone made her smile. “No.” A buzz pulled her attention to her phone. She read the text and waved toward the farm. “There’s a reporter waiting for me. Wish me well.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he told her. He reached out and gave her a quick hug, enough to bolster her confidence. “I’ll call you later. Maybe we can get ice cream after your meeting.”

  “Quietly?”

  “Not around here.”

  She laughed and it felt good to laugh. She’d laid a lot at his door, but he hadn’t flinched.

  He’d taken charge. As she crossed the field to meet with the local reporter, she considered Lucia’s advice. She’d risked Rainey’s balance to make Piper happy. And she’d put her trust in Zach to guide them.

  That meant a great deal to Piper.

  * * *

  “You sure you’ve got time to come with me?” Marty asked as he and Zach moved to the SUV a half hour later. “I know you want to get the deck done.”

  “The wood’s not going anyplace,” Zach told him.

  Marty sent him a look of disbelief. “A little out of character, aren’t you?”

  His tone inspired Zach’s smile. “For the moment. I’m trying to learn to go with the flow more.”

  Marty made a face as he climbed into the passenger side. “Not an easy lesson for guys like you and me. Have you seen Julia today?”

  Zach shook his head as he angled the SUV west toward Vince and Linda’s place. “No. Why?”

  “She’s heading back to Ithaca on Friday to take care of the house. Get things packed. I told her we’d keep the boys here.”

  His father? Watching kids? Zach couldn’t react in time to hide his surprise. “You’re okay with that? Really?”

  His father’s expression changed. A quiet shadow stilled his gaze, but then he hiked a brow and turned to face Zach. “I’m good with kids.”

  Zach hadn’t known that. Not personally. And yet, his father handled Martin and Connor with ease.

  His father settled a straightforward look on him. “Things were different after you were born, Zach. Life has a way of changing things.”

  “As in?”

  “We lost your brother.” Simple words bearing grave intent. “Folks handle grief differently. Your mom felt guilty that Cam died, that she couldn’t save him. It was no one’s fault, we knew that, but sometimes...” He worked his jaw, remembering, then shrugged lightly. “Things eat at a person. When we had you, she stopped everything she was doing to take care of you, Ethan and Julia. The only thing she did on the side was raising puppies for folks. She didn’t volunteer, didn’t sing in the choir, didn’t take food to the poor or help with Christmas baskets for needy families. All things she’d loved once. She cut out everything she used to do to put all of her efforts into being a mother.”

  “And you...”

  “I let her do what she needed to do to help her through,” Marty explained. “We’d seen marriages collapse after the loss of a child. I wasn’t going to push her over some edge. So she took over with you guys and I ran the farm with hired help. One thing about running a farm.” Marty turned his face toward the struggling field of corn to his right. “A farmer’s got plenty of time to pray in the fields.”

  Marty hadn’t abdicated his responsibilities because he loved farming more than his kids. He’d stepped aside to let Zach’s mother assuage her guilt.

  A thrust of shame knifed Zach.

  He should have realized this before. Hearing his father’s version softened childhood misconceptions. His mother’s trips to the cemetery, the far-off expression she’d get now and then. Her dogged determination to see things through, guide her children.

  As they pulled into Vince and Linda’s driveway, Marty turned to Zach, full-face. “Here’s the thing.” He indicated Vince and Linda’s place with a wave of his hand. “You came to Western New York to live independently a bunch of ye
ars back. I respect that.”

  “Command assigned me to Troop A. I said yes. They didn’t give me a whole lot of say in the matter.”

  Marty grinned, understanding, but then he turned serious again. “If having us here crowds you too much, now’s the time to say so. Before we climb out of this car and cut this deal.”

  His father was giving him a way out. Offering to give him space.

  But he’d realized something these past weeks.

  He liked family more than space.

  He liked seeing his father’s steady improvement now that the shock of waking up from his illness had worn off. Zach loved waking up to silly cartoons and Julia’s boys having pillow fights in the family room, although he wished they’d stop hiding his TV remote.

  He loved that he could be a help to his sister and a positive influence to her sons.

  He climbed out of the car and jerked his head toward the house. “I’ve got all the space I need. Let’s do this.”

  His father met his gaze, studied it, and then nodded quick. “I’m all in.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The reporter from the Clearwater Journal snapped pictures of the farm and dairy store as Piper crossed the gravel drive. She paused, introduced herself and made small talk for a few minutes before turning on the recorder. Piper could only hope she didn’t mess this meeting up, but the reporter stayed brief and to-the-point, letting Piper breathe easier. “Miss McKinney, do you find it ironic that the town is planning a yearlong bicentennial celebration of Kirkwood Lake’s roots while vying to take over one of its oldest farm properties?”

  Piper didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do. I represent the centennial farmers on the planning committee, which means Kirkwood Lake is home to generations of hardworking, industrious families. We’d like to keep that the norm.”

  “How do you plan to fight the town’s move to obtain your lake frontage for the good of the community?”

  “First, by pointing out that it isn’t necessarily good for the community in the long run,” Piper replied, “and second, by showing the town board that Kirkwood Lake is and always will be run by the people. Elected representatives are there to represent us. Not change things in spite of us.”

  The reporter smiled, thanked her and clicked off. She reached out a hand to shake Piper’s. “My parents run a farm outside Cleveland. It’s been tough to maintain things to keep the town happy, the neighbors happy and the livestock thriving. I think when my father throws in the towel, we’ll be done, so I’m proud of you and the other farmers for standing up to this.”

  “Thank you.”

  Piper’s phone rang again. Colin’s number flashed. She took the call, waved goodbye to the reporter and moved to a quiet area near the barn. “Hello, Colin.”

  “You’re really going to waste time and money fighting this, Piper? When you know it’s the right thing to do? You’ll lose land from Vince and Linda’s place, you’ll lessen the overall value of the farm by fighting the town on the lakeshore issue, and you’ll waste valuable family money doing it. Why, Piper? Do you hate us that much?” Condescending anger edged each word, as if she were too stupid to see the writing on the wall.

  She was done letting him berate her.

  “I love the farm that much,” she corrected him smoothly. “What does it matter to you when you get your share, Colin? Dad set the trust up so the farm would continue. You know that. He didn’t want a historic farm to take another hit like it did when Mom walked out. He helped finance your education with a loan against this farm, remember? And then he did the same thing for Chas. Get a job, take care of your wife and celebrate the thought of a new child.”

  “It matters because we need the money now,” Colin shot back. “Not in five years when you’ve run the place into the ground.”

  “You’re jealous,” Piper mused. “And yet, you hate the farm, so why would you be envious of it?”

  “Ticked off, actually,” Colin corrected her. “Because our happiness is directly tied to your ineptitude. And there’s nothing we can do about it. That would make any man angry.”

  They could have worked harder. Joined her in the dream. Their dislike of the farm was probably the key to why Tucker set things up the way he did. Did their father realize how things would go?

  Probably. But he trusted Piper to keep her chin up and her hands busy. “Colin, if I had liquid funds I’d buy you out right now, but I don’t. So the monthly payments will have to suffice. Get a job.”

  He grumbled and hung up the phone.

  “Ouch.”

  Piper turned at the sound of Rainey’s voice. “And then some. Is that coffee?” She nodded to the to-go cup in Rainey’s right hand.

  “It is. I know you’re heading back out, but I needed to ask you something.”

  Piper raised the cup. “You brought me coffee. Ask away.”

  “The kindergarten orientation is next Monday.”

  Piper nodded.

  “Will you come with us? Me and the girls? I don’t know them well enough yet, and I don’t want to mess this up. And if I have to go away for a while again, I want to be sure everything’s in order.”

  No matter what happened tomorrow night, Piper needed to reset her priorities. She’d known it for a while. Now she had to follow through, regardless. “I’ll be there. And maybe we can take them out to lunch afterward. Make it a girl’s day.”

  Rainey’s smile told Piper she’d done the right thing. “I’d like that, Piper.”

  * * *

  “Dad, are you going to the Braeburns’ place with Piper and Berto tonight?” Zach asked.

  Marty nodded. “Figured I’d listen in. You want to ride along?”

  “No.” Zach grabbed his keys. “I’ve got to run to the barracks for an unscheduled meeting. Can you ride with Piper?”

  “Yes. And I’m shopping for a truck this weekend. It’s time to get my license renewed and get some wheels.”

  “Friday. With the boys. That will take their mind off Julia heading back to Ithaca without them.”

  His father laughed. “That will be a car-buying adventure to remember.”

  Zach pulled into the Zone 1 substation thirty minutes later. He met with a trio of supervisors and the county assistant district attorney. He laid out the facts as Piper told them, then left Rainey’s fate in their hands.

  On the way home, he prayed he’d done the right thing.

  * * *

  Piper, Lucia, Rainey and Berto arrived at the Town Hall thirty minutes early on Thursday night.

  The grounds lay empty except for a bunch of kids playing basketball on the adjacent courts. Piper’s hopes plummeted, until she got close to the building and read the flyers attached to the doors. She turned and waved for the others to stay in the car. “The meeting’s been moved to the high school auditorium because of the large attendance.”

  She drove to the high school.

  Cars overflowed the generous parking lot.

  She parked on the street two blocks away and they walked to the meeting together, an unlikely looking family with ties that went thicker than blood―land ties, Tucker used to call them.

  Folks streamed into the school from all sides. Some called greetings. Others didn’t. But Piper estimated that three-quarters of the people were there to fight for farmers’ rights. Ethan Harrison’s advice rang in her ears. Stop it now, before it gets to the courts. Once it’s in the courts, it’s out of your hands. Sage words from a farmer’s son.

  Marty Harrison gave Piper a crisp nod and wave from the back left-hand corner of the auditorium. She smiled and waved him over, but he shook his head, winked and smiled. In his left hand he held a folder of some sort. Maybe facts and figures from his farming days? Piper would welcome anything the expert dairyman could add to their cause.

  Z
ach appeared at his father’s side. They shared a few words, then he raised his gaze and spotted the McKinneys.

  Zach’s quick smile warmed her. His eyes held hope and promise, two things that seemed impossible a few short weeks ago.

  But not anymore. Regardless of what happened tonight, the pledge in Zach’s eyes and the strength of their faith would get them through. She knew it.

  The large group was called to order by the town secretary. Minutes stretched as the board went through meeting protocol. When they finally opened the meeting to the long list of people who had signed up to offer opinions, Ron Palmeteer had the nerve to look patronizing and bored.

  “You doing okay?” Zach crossed the room and crouched by her side. He reached over and covered her hands with his, then smiled right into her eyes. “You can do this.”

  “I can.”

  His smile widened. “Then go get ’em, tiger. They’re calling your name.”

  Cheers erupted when Piper took the podium. She made her points in a clear, crisp voice, addressed the concerns of the town and followed with a farmer’s point of view. “McKinney Farm isn’t just a farm. It’s a family heritage and a community legacy. It’s a tradition. Farming is more than an enterprise in Kirkwood Lake. It’s a way of life, a choice to remain rural and embrace our agricultural roots. Mr. Supervisor, when you first informed me of the town’s interest in our waterfront, you used a quote from President Lincoln, how a house divided cannot stand.”

  Palmeteer nodded. He sent a quick gaze to her brothers, sitting on the far left.

  “The actual origin of that quote is the Bible, sir. Lincoln was quoting the third chapter of Mark where he instructed people to form a unit and work together.” She glanced around the room full of people. “I believe that’s what you’re witnessing here tonight. Our land values have escalated as the economy has improved.” She let her gaze rest on the supervisor for long, pointed seconds. “But that elevated value will be reflected in tax hikes that may make living in Kirkwood Lake unaffordable for many. Like any responsible landowner, McKinney Farm will embrace a normal, gradual increase in land value but we will firmly oppose any political effort that artificially spikes land values to the detriment of the people.”