The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker

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The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker Page 18

by Carrie Nichols


  “Knock it off, little brother.”

  Ethan heaved a deep sigh. “Sorry, but it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You kept me from messing up when I let my grades slip after…” Ethan cleared his throat before continuing. “The point is, you didn’t let me mess up.”

  Remy grunted. What the heck did that have to do with anything?

  Ethan made a disparaging sound. “I’ll take that to mean you’ve already messed up. Is it beyond repair?”

  “We have differing views of marriage.” Damn, why did he say that? He didn’t need a lecture from Ethan.

  “Let me guess. She wants romance.”

  “She thinks marriage is a partnership…claims it’s not my job to protect her. Says couples protect each other.”

  “Wow. That woman has some pretty radical ideas.” Ethan’s tone dripped sarcasm.

  “I don’t need protecting.” He remembered how soothing being with her felt after a crappy day. Just walking into her home had eased the knot in his gut at the end of a shift. “What…what if she decides she’s had enough and leaves? I have to protect Evie.”

  “I recall someone telling me not to use Mom’s and Dad’s deaths as an excuse to throw away my life, too. Whatever happened to that guy? Because he made a lot of sense.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sasha checked her reflection in the mirror for the umpteenth time and scowled. Why was she being so obsessive about the way she looked? It wasn’t as if Remy hadn’t seen her before. Heck, he’d seen her when she was all “teachery,” so why bother now?

  Look like a convenient babysitter and be done with it. And him. So why had she agreed to this? She sighed and turned away from the mirror. She’d agreed because she loved them both, and if either one needed help, she couldn’t turn her back on someone who needed her. Martyr much?

  A car door slammed, and she wiped her palms on her shorts. She got through the parent-teacher meeting, she’d get through this. Without a ruler.

  “Oh dear Lord, why did you think that?” she muttered to herself and sucked in a much-needed breath.

  She swung the door open to find a subdued Evie standing there, the strap of a pink Hello Kitty tote bag on her shoulder. “Well, hello there, Miss Evie, it’s so good to see you.”

  Evie dropped the bag and threw her arms around Sasha. “I missed you. I wish you weren’t so busy all the time.”

  Busy? Is that what he’d told her? Sasha glanced at Remy, who suddenly seemed interested in his shoes. What made her think she could see him again without it taking another chunk out of her stupid heart?

  She patted Evie’s back. “I think Henry will be glad to see you.”

  Evie’s head popped up. “Can I give him a treat?”

  “Sure. I think he’d like that.”

  “Hey, got a kiss for your old man before you go see Henry?” Remy had come to stand at the bottom of the steps.

  “You’re not in third grade yet,” he prompted when she hesitated.

  After giving her dad a quick peck, Evie picked up her tote and disappeared into the house, and Sasha longed to join her. Without the kiss, of course. Definitely without the kiss. Yup. Nothing to see here, folks, I’m fine.

  “Th-third grade?” She pulled her lips in to keep them from trembling. How naive she’d been, thinking she could do this without feeling anything.

  “She, uh, informed me that PDAs would have to stop, since she was going to be a third grader.” He made a sound that was part throat clearing and part cough. “I didn’t think she even knew what PDA meant,” he said in a rough tone.

  “They grow up so fast.” Is this what they’d come to? Talking in clichés. “Do you, um, know what time—?”

  “Not late. I should be back by six. No, uh, no need to feed her supper. I promised I’d take her somewhere.”

  Sasha blinked. Would they go to Gator’s? Would he see some woman who caught his eye and ask her to dance? She stiffened her spine to keep from doubling over in pain. “I should…” She motioned toward the house with her head.

  He nodded and started to turn toward the car but swung back around. “I wanted to say how much I appreciate this. Ethan’s in Denver and Charlotte started her residency, so…”

  “Happy to help.” Was that her voice sounding so normal? She turned to go back into the house but, like Remy, she turned back. “Remy?”

  He was opening his car door but glanced up at her, his face hewn from stone.

  “This is the last time.” As much as she loved Evie, she couldn’t do this again. She wasn’t into masochism.

  He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded.

  She turned on her heel and went into the house and shut the door. Inside, she leaned against the wood, trying to gather her strength. Tires crunched on the gravel in the driveway. Remy was gone. She was safe. There’d be no humiliating throwing herself at his feet and begging for…for what? She’d thought they’d been in a real relationship, and he’d been shopping for a mother for his daughter.

  Plastering a smile on her face, she went in search of Evie.

  “Are you doing your summer reading?” Sasha asked as she sat down next to Evie, who’d spent the morning quietly reading.

  Evie nodded and held up the book she’d been engrossed in. “Did they have Ramona and Beezus when you were my age, Miz Honeycutt?”

  “As a matter of fact, they did. Have you read any other ones?”

  She shook her head. “No. Papá said he’d get me some, but he’s been grumpy, so I didn’t ask again.”

  Sasha’s heart drummed in her chest. So Remy was grumpy? So much so that the daughter he adored noticed. Acid roiled in her stomach. Poor Evie was upset. She shouldn’t get satisfaction from the fact that Remy was grumpy. “I have a box of books I brought with me from my last classroom. How about if we look through them and see if there’s anything you’d like?”

  Evie seemed to be thinking about it.

  The little girl’s demeanor was starting to alarm Sasha. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Is your tummy sick? Does your head hurt?”

  Evie shuffled her feet. “Are you leaving because you and Papá can’t get married because he’s the sheriff?”

  “What?” Sasha pulled Evie onto her lap. “Who told you all of this?”

  Big fat tears rolled down the sweet girl’s cheeks. “I heard Papá and Uncle Ethan. Uncle Ethan said you were going back to Dannymore.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I have to go back to sign papers to sell my house and get some of my things out of storage, but I’m coming back to Rose Creek.” Sasha hugged her. Once she’d signed her new teaching contract for next year, she put the old house on the market. Remy or not, her new life was here. And she’d mentioned as much to Ethan when he called.

  Evie sniffed. “You are?”

  “Of course. I love it here. This is my home now. I won’t be your teacher next year, but I’ll still be at the school. We’ll still see each other.” And she’d run into Remy, too. But she’d act like the adult she was and smile and nod. Maybe even make small talk. She’d survived worse and came out the other side.

  “If you move back to Dannymore, can I come, too?”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Concern for Evie made her ask the question.

  Evie jutted out her lower lip. “Because without you Rose Creek would make me feel sad.”

  “What makes you think you wouldn’t be sad there?”

  “Because I’d be somewhere else.”

  “But you’d still be you.” Sasha put her arm around Evie’s shoulders. The girl’s sadness broke her heart, and she felt guilty if she had contributed to it in any way.

  Evie scrunched up her face. “Huh?”

  Sasha touched the girl’s nose and smiled. “You’d still be Evangeline Fontenot. Moving to someplace new doesn’t make you happy or sad.”

  “But you moved here.”

  “I did, but the place didn’t make me happy. You did.”
And your daddy. Even with her broken heart she didn’t regret anything.

  “Papá doesn’t make you happy anymore?”

  “Oh, sweetie, only you can make you happy.” Sasha hugged her close.

  Evie gave her a serious look. The little girl’s eyes were so much like her dad’s that it hurt. “Is…is it because of me that you don’t like him no more?”

  “You? Absolutely not.” Sasha hugged Evie close. “I love you as if you were my own little girl, but it’s…it’s…”

  “Complicated?”

  Despite her misery, Sasha laughed.

  …

  Remy stifled a yawn as he looked over the blueprints to the warehouse the FBI had supplied. He’d had a sleepless night. Knowing he’d be seeing Sasha again this morning probably had something to do with that. Probably? Who was he trying to kid? Sasha Honeycutt had everything to do with his restless night and his crap mood for the past week.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Sasha didn’t hesitate when he’d asked her to watch Evie. Aside from his siblings Sasha was the first—and only—person he’d thought of when he was in a pinch. And he’d trusted her with the most precious thing in his life—his daughter. So why hadn’t he trusted her with his heart? There was no question he was in love with her. But he’d used Evie as a safety barrier so he didn’t have to examine his feelings for Sasha.

  He’d been telling the truth when he said he’d been attracted to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in that bar in New Orleans. But then he got to know the kind, funny, sassy woman who wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. Especially against him. He knew she was in love with him, but she refused to settle for the scraps he’d offered.

  Why couldn’t he accept he’d been pursuing her ever since that kiss? He prayed it wasn’t too late to fix this. She’d been in love with him a week ago, so surely she hadn’t gotten over it yet.

  McKnight, the Treasury agent assigned to the task force, brought everyone up to speed on the intel their undercover agent had gleaned over the past eighteen months.

  His conversation with Ethan kept replaying in his mind along with Sasha’s “This is the last time.” The thought of not seeing her again, not touching, not kissing, hurt him more than he thought possible. Worse than when Randi left him with a newborn. He’d sworn not to let anyone do that to him ever again.

  “We ready to do this?” the task force leader asked and glanced at his watch.

  All the men around the table nodded, as did Remy, but he wondered if he had time to place a quick call to Sasha. Tell her he really did want to talk when he got home. He pulled out his phone, but he couldn’t pick up a signal in this part of the building. Maybe that was for the best. Begging forgiveness and telling her how much he loved her would be better in person. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  …

  “May I give Henry another treat? Please. I said it right, and we’re not even in school.”

  Sasha had to smile at Evie’s rationale. “Just one.”

  “I wish I could come here every day instead of summer camp,” Evie told Henry, who was watching her every movement because she was in front of the treat cabinet.

  Sasha’s heart fluttered in her chest. She, too, enjoyed their time together. The house seemed so quiet without her. And she didn’t even want to think about not seeing Remy. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Don’t you like camp?”

  “Yeah, but I like it better here with you and Henry. I could read to him and help you bake cookies and…and stuff like that. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  Sasha blinked back tears. “That does sound like fun, but—”

  The doorbell chimed, and she glanced at the clock. Was Remy back already?

  “Papá,” Evie squealed and ran toward the front door, calling over her shoulder. “I’ll ask him if I can stay with you.”

  Sasha hurried to catch up. She glanced out the window, and her legs threatened to give out from under her. She held the doorframe for support. Instead of Remy, a uniformed deputy stood on her front porch.

  “Miz Honeycutt, aren’t you gonna open the door?”

  Sasha’s hand flew to cover her mouth to keep from yelling “No,” because if she didn’t answer the door, this couldn’t happen. Not again. If she hadn’t answered the door last time, Jimmy could still be alive, like Schrödinger’s cat.

  The rational part of her brain told her she was scaring Evie, so she fumbled to get the door unlocked and open. A car door slammed, and Sasha looked past the deputy. Please let it be Remy.

  But it was Floy Wiggenhauser hurrying as fast as her years would let her. Sasha started to sag, and the deputy stepped closer. He was young, certainly too young to carry a gun.

  “Are you okay, Miz Honeycutt?” Evie patted her leg.

  Sasha forced herself to stand ramrod straight. “I’m fine, sweetie. Looks like we’ve got company.”

  She hoped her voice sounded strong and reassuring. The roaring in her ears made it hard to hear anything. “Mrs. W, this is a surprise.”

  Floy and the deputy, who still hadn’t spoken—or had he?—exchanged glances.

  “I’ve heard so much about this big orange cat, I thought I’d come to see for myself,” Floy said. “Maybe you could show him to me?” she asked Evie.

  Evie nodded. “His name’s Henry, and he’s awfully furry.”

  Sasha stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut, her hand on the doorknob like a grounding rod. “Tell me.”

  “Ma’am, the sheriff’s been shot—”

  “Oh God!”

  The deputy reached out to steady her. “I should’ve led with he’s going to be okay. I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

  The word “okay” echoed through her, and Sasha sagged against the door, her hand clutching the knob. What if they were waiting to get her away from Evie to break the news? “You’re sure he’s…he’s…he’s alive?”

  “Ma’am, I assure you, he’s okay. Grumpy as sh— He’s okay. Lost some blood, which is why they won’t let him leave.”

  She swallowed and straightened up. “And you’re here to take me to him? What about Evie?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The deputy blushed. “I mean no. I mean he said to just bring you for now.”

  “Quit calling me ma’am. I’m from New York. We don’t like it.” She went inside and started to shut the door before turning back. “Sorry. Would you like to come in while I tell them I’m leaving?”

  “Uh…” He twisted his hat in his hands, using the brim to move it in a continuous circle. “If it’s okay with you, ma’am, I’ll wait in the patrol car.”

  In the ride over to the hospital, the deputy kept trying to reassure her that Remy was okay and apologizing for scaring her.

  Despite the turmoil inside her, Sasha assured the deputy that she wasn’t angry with him for doing his job…even if he did keep calling her ma’am while doing it.

  Standing at the door to the emergency entrance, she had to fight the urge to turn and run. Escape. How could this be happening again?

  “Ma’am?”

  She glanced at the deputy. “Henderson,” it said on his badge. Hadn’t Remy mentioned him? “You had the stomach flu.”

  He blushed.

  “Sorry. It was just something Remy said.” He’d shared parts of his job with her. That knowledge gave her the strength to go inside and face whatever was waiting.

  A middle-aged woman in blue scrubs greeted the deputy by name, and they fell into step beside her.

  Sasha’s first glimpse of Remy was of him lying on a gurney, a couple pillows behind his head, and what appeared to be a gaggle of hovering nurses. One nurse stepped aside and exposed a gauze-covered left bicep.

  Sasha paused in the open doorway, uncertain of what to do. Her first instinct was to throw herself at him and weep with relief, but she didn’t want to humiliate herself. What if he asked for her so he could arrange babysitting for Evie while he was hospitalized?

  He glanced over, a
nd his eyes widened when he spotted her. He reached toward her with his right arm, his dark eyes glittering with emotion. “Cher.”

  Her heart melted, and she was by his side before she realized she was walking. The nurses who’d been standing by his bed faded away.

  He clutched her hand and held her close. “I’m sorry if I scared you by sending Henderson to fetch you, but I didn’t want you to hear about this anywhere else. You know how fast news travels around here. So I sent Henderson.”

  “He kept calling me ma’am,” she blurted out as relief coursed through her. Good Lord, where had that come from? Is that all she could say? She had a million things she wanted to tell him, and that wasn’t one of them.

  One corner of his mouth curved up, and he tugged her closer. “I’ll speak to him about that.”

  “Sheriff?”

  Sasha startled and glanced around. She’d forgotten there was still a nurse with them. Her focus had been solely on Remy.

  “The doctor will be in to speak with you. In the meantime, if you need anything just press the call button.” The nurse glanced at Remy and then Sasha and pulled the curtain across the glass wall before leaving.

  “You were shot.” Sasha shook her head. She was quite the conversationalist.

  “A bullet caught me on the arm. They stitched me up and will be releasing me soon.”

  “Oh.” Had she misread the emotions in his eyes? Was she about to make a fool of herself when all he wanted was to make arrangements for Evie?

  “You could look a bit happier, cher.” He squeezed her hand. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Talk?” She bit her lip.

  “Yeah, you know, I say something…then you say something, but first I have something to show you.” He let go of her hand and pointed. “Could you get me my pants?”

  She handed him his pants, still in a daze. He grunted as he reached into the pocket of his jeans.

  …

  Remy pulled out the paper he’d written before they’d started the raid. He hoped it was enough to convince her that he didn’t want her just as a mother for Evie. He wanted to do this before the local they’d given him to stitch him up wore off. He had a feeling he might be wanting the pain pills the doctor said he was discharging him with, and this was a conversation that needed a clear head.

 

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