Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

  “She was one hell of a woman,” Casey murmured quietly.

  “Yeah.” Will took a breath. “Go on.”

  “Graham’s writing again. Not much more… ‘I wish there was a better way to do this, but even our clever lawyer can’t come up with one. At least, you’ll have a home here, even if you have to run fewer cattle and find another way to make up the shortfall. Don’t you dare refuse this. I know you, William Rice. After a bit, you’re going to start feeling guilty, thinking you don’t deserve this. Well, you do. If you start wondering if maybe you should give it up, you think about who Annmarie would want to see living on her land and keeping it safe. This is a sacred trust, not a windfall. You hear me?

  “‘Take care of yourself, Will. Live, love, tend the land, and be happy.’”

  Casey set the page gently on the table. “They both signed it.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Will blew out his breath slowly.

  “It’s one hell of a gift, but you were their son in every way that counted.”

  Will bit his lip and said nothing.

  Casey folded the page back into the envelope and put it and the lawyer’s note into the outer one, tidying, organizing, giving Will time. He held it out, and when Will didn’t reach for it, set the envelope back on the table.

  For a while they were silent, as the rooster-faced clock on the wall ticked away the minutes. Eventually Casey said, “I have some money.”

  “I thought you spent it on your campaign.”

  “Nope. Scott wanted me to, but… it’s complicated. I have it, but it’s hard to get to, so I held back most of it.” He’d not been willing to ask his parents for money for himself, for the campaign, but he could get it for Will. “Maybe this was the reason it didn’t feel right.”

  “I can’t let you.”

  “Let me what? Put some of my money into buying this land and keeping it open and free?”

  “Paying for my ranch.”

  “But then it would be our ranch.”

  Will frowned at him, then slowly his face cleared. “Yeah. I guess it would.”

  “Whether I win or lose tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind owning a share of this place to come home to.”

  “I… Um.”

  “I bet Scott would chip in too. We could own it between the three of us. A place that’s ours and a reason to all live in the same place.” Casey suddenly felt better than he had in days.

  “Wow. That’s a thought. That’s, um, do you think Annmarie was thinking of it that way?”

  “Maybe. At least you know she’d be cheering us on, not offended.”

  “Yeah.” Will finally picked up the envelope, twisting it between his fingers. “I guess it sounds like she would. That’s good to know.”

  Casey stood and touched Will’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “I guess.”

  “Here, take the keys. I have to go. Will I see you tonight?”

  “Yeah. Probably late. Scott’s place?”

  Casey nodded. “His last night with us for a while, so yeah. Bring lots of lube.”

  “Ha. We haven’t quite run through his supply.”

  “Tonight we might.” Casey couldn’t help brushing his hand along Will’s jaw, although he didn’t say anything mushy with it. Will would understand. “Later then.”

  “Go be sheriffy. Show the people what they’ll be losing if they vote for the douchecanoe.”

  “Since when do you use that word?”

  “Scott says it. I’m starting to like it,” Will offered.

  “That boy is a bad, bad influence.”

  “That man is a sweet, hot piece of ass.”

  And so much more.

  They looked at each other in perfect agreement, a smile touching both their faces, before Casey headed back to work.

  Chapter 4

  Will stood back in the crowd at the town hall, watching Todd Kensington fairly ooze with charm. Will knew he shouldn’t be here in the enemy camp. Casey would kick his ass if he found out, but he wanted a good look at Todd doing his campaign thing.

  He didn’t understand it. Since when did college courses in criminal justice and court dates and the minimum of training measure up to years of experience? How could more than half the town think a smooth-talking lawyer would keep them safer than a tough, smart, retired Marine MP?

  There was a big crowd here at Todd’s get-out-the-vote event, and it wasn’t just the town’s bigshots looking for a smooth face with a money background. Will edged over to where three women he recognized as distant neighbors stood chatting. Bits of their conversation drifted to him.

  “…seems like he really understands…”

  “…I like a man who smiles when he talks to you. Not looks like he’s planning to arrest you.”

  “Yeah. The sheriff pulled me over once for cutting across the center line when my sleeve got caught on the gearshift. You’d have thought I was the town drunk, the way he…”

  Will frowned as someone moved between them and he lost the thread of the conversation. He looked around. The atmosphere was cheerful and confident. Most of the audience were middle-aged men, in casual clothes or business attire, but there were more women than he was used to seeing at a town meeting. Scott had told them Todd tried hard to get out the female vote, and it looked like it might be working. It probably helped that he was polished enough to have stepped out of a Hollywood movie. Will wished Scott was beside him to make snarky remarks in his ear, but he was back up in Canada, shooting a rubber puck around the ice.

  On the podium, one of the mayoral candidates stepped up to the microphone to talk about “American Values” and “The Good of the County.” Will curled his lip. Only if you put “money talks” under American values.

  Todd thanked the speaker and then took over the mike again. The crowd applauded and someone actually started a chant of “Ken-sing-ton. Ken-sing-ton,” like a sporting crowd. Todd held up his hand for quiet.

  “I want to thank you all for turning out to support me,” he said, with that perfect-toothed smile. “And I want to tell you I know this is a tough decision for you. My opponent, Sheriff Barlow, is an honorable, worthy man who has given four years to the people of this town. Moreover, he’s a decorated veteran. He was in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

  Will wondered where Todd was going with this. Casey’s service record was one of his strong points.

  Todd continued, “So many of our service men and women are coming back from that painful, demanding duty with wounds, not just of body but of mind and spirit. After months, sometimes years, of exposure to death and destruction on a daily basis, they have a hard time adjusting to being home. We’ve been fortunate to have a man as strong and determined as Casey Barlow, someone trying to put all the long stresses of that duty behind him, and somehow focus on doing his work here, away from the front lines.”

  Todd paused, nodding, scanning the crowd with a somber face. Will gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure how Todd could make praise sound like criticism, but he was doing it.

  “A strong, forthright man. A man of action. Once a Marine, always a Marine. If I were over there patrolling a hot zone, there’s no one I’d rather have at my back than Casey Barlow.”

  You’d never make it through basic training. Todd looked good in his suit, but Will didn’t think there was a whole lot of substance under there.

  “But this isn’t Iraq, and it isn’t Afghanistan. This is the good ol’ U S of A. Here, when an upstanding citizen runs a stop sign, you give him a ticket, but you don’t haul him out of the car and say, ‘Blow into this and prove you’re not drunk.’”

  You do if he has two DUIs already. Will thought he could name the “upstanding citizen” and the lawyer who got the case thrown out for an improperly explained field sobriety test. Casey had been livid.

  Suddenly Will couldn’t listen to any more. He turned and headed for the exit. To his surprise, he saw Nita near the door, watching the Todd Kensington floorshow with a sour expression. She fell in beside him as h
e pushed out the doors.

  “Are you going to Casey’s headquarters?” she asked.

  “Thinking about it.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to, with that pep rally to compare it to. “He’s supposed to talk to them at 8:20. You?”

  “Yeah. I want to support the guy who can actually do the job. Friend or not, he’d still get my vote.”

  “You don’t go all gushy over Todd’s smile?”

  Nita laughed, then punched him in the arm, hard enough to hurt. “The day I go ‘gushy’ over anyone’s smile, you can haul me off to the loony bin. He has nice teeth, and not half the sense Casey has in his little finger.”

  “So why don’t folks see that?”

  “He talks real well, he dresses nice, and he has the right people on his side. He’s got barely the minimum law enforcement training to qualify, and that years ago. If Casey hadn’t spent the last four years somehow getting under the skin of half the influential people in town, he’d be a shoo-in. But all those people, the ones who’re used to being cut slack and didn’t get it from him? They’ve gone over to Todd’s side, and money counts in this world.”

  Will sighed. Because it did. Whether you were buying a ranch or an election.

  Casey’s campaign headquarters consisted of a corner of the storefront used by the local DFL candidate for the state House. It was an uneasy alliance. The DFL candidates were almost always the underdogs in this red state, and Casey’s status as a war hero was a bonus for them. But his blunt style and law-and-order approach didn’t mesh well with the candidate’s high-flying rhetoric.

  When they got there, this rally was also in full swing, with the mix of center-left and unaligned candidates who shared the space making themselves known one last time before the polls would open in the morning. Will found a space along the wall for himself and Nita, tucked away behind the cameras of the local TV station. He sure as hell didn’t envy Casey stepping in front of those.

  A young man who Will recognized as one of the deputies hurried over. “Hey, you’re Will, right? Have you seen Sheriff Barlow tonight? Do you know if he’s going to get here on time?”

  Will glanced at his watch. 8:17. On the one hand, he had a feeling Casey would love to miss this, given an excuse. On the other, years as a Marine had made him… Yes, coming in the door right on the dot. Will pointed, and the deputy hurried off that direction.

  Nita said, “He looks pretty calm.”

  Will could’ve disagreed, given the way he saw Casey’s hand go up to rub across his crew-cut twice between the door and the podium. That wasn’t vanity, that was nerves. But he just said, “Yep.”

  Reaching the front of the room, Casey turned to look at the crowd. The previous speaker finished, to loud applause. An older deputy took the mike. “Now a man who needs no introduction. You all know Sheriff Barlow. I’ve been a deputy in his department the whole four years he’s been with us, and I’m here to tell you he’s what this town and this county need. The safety and security of every one of us is the reason for every decision he makes. No exceptions, no slacking off. Sheriff Barlow is the man I’d want to show up if I ever had to call 9-1-1. He’s the man I’d trust with my life and with my family’s lives. He has the experience and the skills to do the job, and I’m here to say almost everyone in the department will be voting to return Sheriff Barlow to office tomorrow.”

  There was a good round of applause, and Casey stepped up to the mike. “Thank you, Chief Deputy Ransome.” He paused. “Shall I give you hazardous duty pay to go say that at Todd Kensington’s rally?”

  People laughed and Ransome said loudly, “Just say the word.”

  Casey didn’t crack a smile though. Just stood straight and looked across the crowd. “I’m not good at speeches. When I got this job, it was because you all were tired of a sheriff who didn’t follow through, who didn’t run a smart investigation, and wouldn’t treat everyone fairly. You were tired of having crimes get overlooked, of having genuine complaints shelved and lost. You wanted someone the deputies, and the criminals, in this county would respect.

  “Well, I’ve done that job. When there’s a serious crime, my deputies and I are on it, and we stay on it till it’s solved. We keep people safe and we uphold the laws, equally and without favor. You all know my work and I stand behind it. If you approve of how I’ve done my job for the last four years, then I ask you to vote tomorrow for me to keep right on doing it. That is all. Now I have an investigation to pursue. Thank you.”

  Casey handed the mike back to the startled deputy, stepped down off the makeshift stage and headed to the door. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then loud but brief applause.

  Ransome said into the mike, “You want a cop, not a politician? You vote for that man.” He handed the mike to the next candidate.

  Beside Will, Nita sighed. “He’s right. And he’s going to lose the damned election.”

  “You’re sure?” Will could see the difference in the audiences, the cheerful enthusiasm of Todd’s and the cool respect of Casey’s. But surely content mattered. Casey had proved himself on the job, a hundred times over.

  “Miracles could happen. Kensington could get caught doing meth with an underage hooker in his car.”

  “Or not.”

  “Yeah.” Nita gave him a little grimace. “I’m going to go out and drown my sorrows, given how all my favorite candidates look tonight. You want to come along?”

  Will was tempted. Nita was the ranch hand he usually felt easiest with, but she kept to herself. It was a rare thing to have her seeking out his company. Except he didn’t feel like drinking, and there was a chance Casey might need someone to talk to tonight.

  “Nah. I think I’ll head home.”

  “See you in the morning then, boss.” She tugged her jacket higher around her neck and went out into the November darkness.

  ***

  It always felt odd to Scott, leaving one home and coming back to the other. He’d spent the flight to Canada transforming from Scott, the Kansas hometown boy with two secret lovers, to Edison, the up-and-coming hockey player. Passing through customs, getting into his car with kilometers on the road signs, all of that helped. Canada was still a foreign country, even after four off-and-on years, but it was hockey country. It was where Edison, number 21 on the Marlies, was making a name for himself.

  Coming into the rink, putting on his equipment— that usually completed the job. The ice always felt like the place he belonged. But somehow this practice still found him off balance. It didn’t help that Coach had a burr up his ass and they were running so late. He’d planned to be home and on the phone with his guys.

  Scott deked left around the defender and took his shot. The goalie stopped it with his glove, high in the left corner, and then shook out his hand. “Damn, Edison. That all you got?”

  “Lucky catch.” He skated in a circle and headed for the face-off. Practice was dragging on, and on. They’d done shooting drills until his wrists ached and now they were facing off five-on-five with both goalies in the nets. He leaned over his stick, waiting as the coach told the centers something, before dropping the puck. The scoreboard clock was lit and he glanced up.

  Eight-twenty PM. With the time change, the polls back home would now be closed. The county wasn’t populous, but it was widespread. It’d take a while to predict the sheriff’s race— a sudden shout startled him and then he was flat on the ice with LeClerc on top of him.

  “Crisse!” the defenseman grumbled. “What the hell, Edison? You got lead in your skates?”

  “Sorry.” Scott scrambled up. “Missed the drop.”

  The coach yelled, “Edison! Get your head out of your ass! Fifty laps when we’re done.”

  “Yessir.” Scott forced his mind back to the game. Edison. He needed to be Edison right now. He was worried about Casey, and heartsick about Will, who’d looked older and more stressed every day. But the rink wasn’t somewhere he could let his mind wander. The last thing he needed was to get hurt because he wasn’t paying at
tention.

  Practice ended twenty minutes later and then Scott had his laps to do. That was almost fun, despite the exhausted ache in every part of his body. He loved the whole game, but best of all was flying up the rink with the puck on his stick and clear ice ahead of him. Skating laps was almost as good. He controlled the puck deftly as he slashed his way across the blue line, dropping his head to power his strides. His stick was an extension of his arm, the puck as good as glued to the blade. For fun, he sent the puck ahead of him, bouncing it off the boards and picking up the rebound. He almost forgot to count the laps.

  By the end of fifty, his skating was more dogged than enthusiastic. He was feeling the effect of almost no sleep last night, with two enthusiastic men giving his ass some special attention, and then a red-eye plane ride early that morning. He put on the brakes when he made fifty, showering the boards with ice, and used the door instead of vaulting over the boards. Hell, maybe he was getting old. Or… his ass twinged nicely. Maybe not.

  The locker room was already emptying out after the practice that would not die. A few of the guys were still showering or changing, but most had headed home. Scott sat on the bench to strip down, wrestling with his laces. These were new skates, and they didn’t fit as good as the old ones yet. He rubbed the side of his foot.

  He wanted to call home. His phone was in his locker, but he didn’t reach for it. Gilles walked by with a goalie stick in hand and tapped his bare shins lightly. “Hey, good practice. We should time that slapshot of yours again. I swear you keep getting faster. Are you eating your Wheaties or something?”

  “Healthy living,” Scott smirked.

  “Whatever works. I’m glad it’s the IceCaps goalie who’ll have to get in front of your shots tomorrow, not me.”

  “I’m hoping he won’t get in front of them.”

  “Word.”

  Scott stood, scratching at the dry sweat sticky on his skin. He paused with his hands on the elastic of his jockstrap, grinning slightly because he’d worn one Sunday night for a different reason. Very briefly. Until it was tugged off him by impatient hands. Casey liked that.