Worth the Wait

by Miley Maine

  I’d been so proud to tell her my news. For years, I’d spent most of my free time studying while the other students vandalized barns and rode dirt bikes. I’d done enough to fit in, though: I’d played football. In our tiny school, I was the quarterback. But most of it was dull and it felt like a waste of time; at least it made my father happy.

  In my room at night, I revised my essays. I had to pay for the ACT and the SAT with my own money. Each time I tried to carefully bring up the topic with my dad, he blew up. Then I’d gotten my scores back, and even the promise of a full scholarship wasn’t enough to change his mind.

  I’d never dreamed Bree would feel the same way.

  Now Jennifer was nudging me in the ribs. “Hey, champ. We have two more farms to visit. You back with me, or you still strolling down memory lane?”

  “I’m back,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’ll know these people, too. Are they going to take you down some weird black hole?”

  “No. I’m fine.” I looked at the addresses. “The first one was my kindergarten teacher. The second one owns the hardware store.”

  She shook her head. “It’s unreal. I thought my teachers lived at the school. Everything’s so compartmentalized in the city and no one lives in the same place for fifty years, like they apparently do out here.”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty intertwined.” My life in Houston was simple. I didn’t have to worry that my neighbor knew me in the second grade; it was more how Jennifer described San Francisco, with anonymous neighbors you never spoke to.

  As we parked, Mrs. Jones came out onto her porch. “James Wakefield! I heard you’d be coming to see me.” Jennifer suppressed a laugh as Mrs. Jones enveloped me in a firm hug.

  “You look wonderful as always,” she said. She beamed at Jennifer. “This young man was tidy even when he was five.”

  “Oh, I’d love to hear all about him,” Jennifer said.

  “Why don’t you two come on in? I have some tea and some cookies.”

  “We would love to,” Jennifer said with a smile, whereas I had to deliberately wipe the scowl off my face.

  As soon as we were seated, Mrs. Jones looked right at me with her hands on her hips. “Have you seen Bree yet?”

  “Twice,” I said.

  “She has a son,” she said. “But she’s still single.”

  “Bree is not happy I’m here,” I said. I’d forgotten about all the matchmaking. No one in Houston ever tried to set me up. I’d avoided hooking up with anyone at work, although it wasn’t forbidden. If I went out to a bar, I got hit on; it was that simple. I had forgotten just how life under the microscope of Laurel Bay could be.

  “That girl’s always spoken her mind, you know that.”

  “I sure do,” I said. She let it go for the moment, but I knew the matchmaking wasn’t over. We chatted for another twenty minutes until she finally dismissed us to investigate her property. After we finished, she promised to call us if she saw anything odd. I had no doubt she’d keep an eye out—she even showed us her binoculars.

  In the SUV, Jennifer could not keep the smirk off her face. “Go ahead,” I said. “Just get it out of your system.”

  She burst into laughter. “I can’t get over it. You totally misled us. You said you were from the Dallas area,” she cackled, even making the annoying finger quotes with her hands. “That’s like saying Godzilla is a lizard. Saying you’re from near Dallas implies there’s at least a suburb involved.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t have a response for that. “Let’s get to the next ranch before we lose the daylight.”

  “Oh, fun. Will I get to watch them interrogate you there, too?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “I’ll put a stop to that.”

  “Right. Exactly like you put a stop to your old teacher razzing you?”

  As we pulled onto the highway, the phone rang; it was the sheriff calling. He’d gotten a report from one of the farmers closer to town. Apparently, there’d been a campfire in the far acres of their cotton field and someone thought they’d seen flashlights the night before. Why they were just now calling it in was anyone’s guess.

  We turned the car around and headed there, but by the time we arrived, the ashes were cold and the only traces left were the indentations where a few pop-up tents had sat.

  Kicking the ground wasn’t going to help. And it might mess up the evidence. “Dammit,” I muttered. “This doesn’t even make sense. Who would operate like this?” Laurel Bay didn’t have high-speed internet access. Some places didn’t have any internet at all. Maybe they were using satellites, but why? Why hide in a rural area where you’d be noticed instead of trying to blend into a city? There had to be a reason they were here.

  7

  Bree

  That night I didn’t sleep well, and the following morning at seven am, Ian’s little voice startled me out of my stupor. “Was that a bad man?”

  His adorable face was right next to mine. I turned on my side and squinted at him. “Who?”

  His shoulders lifted as he explained and I noticed that his pajamas were on backwards. “The man who was here. You sounded mad when you talked to him.”

  “I sounded mad?” There was no telling what he’d heard me say. I pushed myself into a sitting position and pulled him into a hug.

  Crap. Yet another thing I’d screwed up. I’d let my hostility show so much that Ian picked up on it. I tried to teach him to be kind to people and then, right in front of his face, I proceeded to be a real jerk to an FBI agent.

  An FBI agent who happened to be his father.

  I had to do better. If not for myself, then for Ian.

  “Yeah. It was Mad Mommy.”

  “I wasn’t mad. I was just tired. I’m sorry you heard me being so grumpy.” Standing up, I swept him into my arms.

  “Like Oscar the Grouch,” he said as I spun him around.

  “Yes. Exactly like Oscar the Grouch.” I put him down and kissed him on the head. “I have to go to the fire department today, but tomorrow, guess what?”

  The last thing I wanted to do today was go to the fire department, but I’d been one of the loudest voices demanding that we all take turns signing up to help. As rural as we were, we were never going to have our own fully-staffed fire department.

  The solution was a group of volunteers who’d been trained. Sometimes we saved lives, but mostly we saved property. Just last month, we’d saved a barn. We made all the difference between a total loss and a partial loss.

  As much as I believed in the program, guilt still washed over me at the thought of leaving Ian all day. I’d barely spent any time with him this week.

  “Pancakes?” he asked.

  “Yes, we can have pancakes.” He always wanted me to try shapes. I was terrible at them, but he laughed at my mangled letters and cartoon characters. “And also, tomorrow I’m off work for the whole day. No vet, no fire department, and hardly any ranch work.”

  “You can dress up with me!”

  “Yes, I can. What should I be?”

  “Punzel!”

  “Great. I better start growing my hair out now if I’m going to be Rapunzel,” I said, tossing my hair around until he howled with laughter.

  One of the volunteer firefighters was a lawyer. He’d worked in Dallas for a few years at one of the big name firms before moving back here to get away from the rat race. I hated to bother him, but it was time for me to quit screwing around with our finances.

  While the rest of the firefighters were digging into their pasta dinners in the eating area, I cornered him in the kitchen. “I have a question about bankruptcy. Can I ask you here?”

  “Go ahead,” he said, filling glasses with ice for the rest of the crew.

  “I’m behind on the ranch mortgage,” I said. “We had several cattle get sick. They needed medicine, and even with my boss coming out for free, the shots added up. Then the roof leaked and I had that patched, and Walter and Mary both got the flu. You know, it adds up.”


  “It does. How much are we talking?”

  “Ten thousand dollars,” I said.

  “That’s not so bad. I’ve seen people a hundred thousand in debt.”

  “I hope they had a convertible or something fancy to show for it, because I sure don’t.”

  “Come by my office one day. I don’t handle bankruptcies, but I can go through the numbers and give you some advice.” He gathered all the cups onto a tray to take to the rest of the group. “No charge.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Bree,” he said. “You’ve done so much for this town. We’re all here today because you pushed us.”

  “Guilted you, more like it.” I picked up the rest of the cups and delivered them to the table so we could join the others and finally eat our pasta.

  “Maybe a little,” he said. “Your situation is—”

  I never got to hear what he was going to say because the door opened and in walked, guess who?

  Agent James Wakefield.

  Just like before, he was dressed in an immaculate black suit. His jaw was strong, his dark hair was perfect, and his sharp eyes were piercing as they looked right at me. He was gorgeous and I couldn’t look away from him, which was the curse of my life.

  “Are you haunting me?” I asked. “Or stalking me?”

  Oops. The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, and just this morning I’d vowed to turn over a new leaf because my four-year-old called me out. Plus, all my fellow firefighters were sitting right there, forks in hand, staring right at James and me like we were a very juicy movie they wanted to watch.

  I might not get paid for this job, but it was important to me and I needed to start acting like it. It was never too late to start over. “What I meant to say was, hi, Agent Wakefield. Can we help you?”

  He blinked at me a few times, clearly stunned that I wasn’t harassing him any further. “Are you a firefighter, too?”

  I pointed down at the T-shirt and cargo pants I was wearing that matched the rest of the group. “Um, yes.”

  “Do you ever sleep?” he asked.

  “Excuse me? I’m not sure how my schedule is relevant. You may have thought I was lazy in high school because I didn’t study twenty-four hours per day, but I am an adult now. Is there something I can help you with?”

  He shot an uncomfortable look at the table. “I never said you were lazy.”

  “No. But you probably thought it at the time.”

  “You were relaxed.”

  “And you weren’t. And look,” I said. I pointed to his neat suit, which he wore very well. With that stony expression and strong jaw, he’d rival any man on the cover of GQ. “It paid off.”

  “Yes, it did,” he said. He smiled, showing off his unfairly perfect teeth. “I’m not stalking you, though. I’m here for a reason.”

  “To talk about the power grid attack?”

  “Potential attack. But yes. As first responders, we want to ensure that you’re all safe when you’re out on a call and that you have the resources you need to deal with any incidents that may arise,” he said.

  Ushering him further into the building, I pointed to the back office area. “Our chief is here. She’s a paid employee, so I’ll let you speak with her first.”

  Look at me being nice. It felt a little fake and a little forced because my heart thundered in my chest.

  The chief called us all together and James warned us about a situation where a hacker disrupted 911 calls for an entire town and other incidents where suspects created fake 911 calls as a distraction to screen other crimes. I had to admit, he was very nice to look at and he was a great speaker. I noticed a few of the other female firefighters staring at him more closely than necessary.

  You’re barking up the wrong tree, lady. He is never moving back here.

  Although, I bet most women would be willing to move away with him. Why had I been so strongly against it? That decision seemed so far away now. What had I gained from my insistence in staying here? Had it been pride?

  Yes, I had needed to stay with my mom, who had been really sick and needed my help. And I had been crushed that James had neglected to tell me he was applying to Michigan State. I’d listened to him rant night after night about his father’s lack of understanding, and I’d assumed if we ever left Laurel Bay, we’d decide together. But James had moved ahead of me at lighting speed. When he’d pulled out the letter, it had been like he plunged me into a bucket of icy water.

  He didn’t seem to understand why. That night, he’d asked me out to a nice dinner. He’d driven me to the outskirts of Dallas, which was something we’d never done, not even for prom. He’d spent seventy-five dollars on our dinner, which was a fortune to us. Afterward, he’d taken me to a park. He’d gone full rom-com and brought a picnic blanket and some sparkling apple juice since we were only eighteen. Then he’d gotten down on one knee.

  I hadn’t cried, but I had screamed, Yes! I’d joined him on the ground and we hugged. He slipped the ring on my finger, and...

  I saw our future right then. We’d get married and we’d work hard on his father’s ranch. After a few years, we would save up enough money to hire some ranch hands to work the land, then we could commute to a college in Dallas. And then, a few years after that, we’d have two kids and raise them in the Dallas suburbs.

  Or so I’d thought.

  And then, while we were still relaxing on that stupid picnic blanket, he announced he’d gotten a full scholarship to college and he’d whipped out that stupid letter from Michigan State and shoved it right in my face.

  8

  James

  Days passed in Laurel Bay, and despite hours of investigating potential leads and working fourteen-hour days, our team wasn’t any closer to catching the perps.

  The mayor had been reluctant to allow an actual town hall meeting. He was afraid it would incite panic. But after his office was flooded with questions and calls, I finally made him see that more information would actually calm people down.

  So, on a Friday night, the entertainment would be a town hall in the public library with an open question and answer session. It lasted nearly two hours and there were plenty of outrageous comments, but in the end, I felt like it was worth it.

  After the town hall was over, I was mobbed by about fifteen residents and it took me another thirty minutes to disentangle myself from them. Oddly, most of their questions hadn’t been about the potential power grid attacks.

  After they’d all left, I noticed Bree standing by the exit door with her arms crossed. She was wearing scrubs with little cow faces printed on them and her hair was pulled into a ponytail. “Very informative,” she said.

  I raised one eyebrow. I had no idea if she was being sarcastic or not.

  Stay professional. You’re in public.

  “I’m glad Laurel Bay is taking this seriously,” I said. “I’ve been in public safety meetings where no one listened.”

  “You’re right. Most of the town was pretty attentive.” She pursed her lips. “Especially there at the end. Those women seemed very concerned.”

  Was she speaking in code? I was obviously missing something here. “What do you mean?” I asked. “There were an equal number of men and women at this meeting.”

  “But only the women needed a one-on-one afterward,” she said.

  My tan skin didn’t show a flush often, and I worked hard to not show reactions, but I detected a faint trace of heat spreading across my neck and cheeks.

  Why did Bree care if women spoke to me? Why did she care if they were interested in me? There was no way she was jealous; she hated me way too much for that. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I was one-hundred percent professional,” I said.

  “I didn’t say you weren’t” she said. “But you must realize you’re a hot commodity around here. Young, single, gainfully employed, with an exciting job to boot.” She flicked her eyes up and down my body. “The longer you stay, the more attention you’re
going to attract.”

  “I don’t date while I’m working,” I said.

  “They’d love to make you break your rules.”

  “I won’t be doing that,” I assured her.

  Finally, she smiled. “Messing with you is so much fun. You seem out of practice, but surely someone at work picks on you?”

  “Agent Ramirez does. But she’s the only one,” I said.

  “Good. I’m glad she doesn’t let you get too serious.” Bree lifted her hand in a half-wave. “I have to go. I’m on duty at the fire station tonight.”

  “Be careful,” I said.

  She nodded, and she was gone.

  I watched her walk away. Not many people looked good in scrubs, but Bree did.

  The evening after the town hall, Jennifer and I sat in the eating area of the hotel and filled out reports. At nine pm, she yawned. “I’m going to take a shower and try to wake up.”

  Right after she left, the sheriff called my cell. “Agent Wakefield,” he said. “We’ve got a report. One of the ranchers smells smoke, claims she heard an engine on her property. She wants to take a four-wheeler out there and investigate, but I’ve convinced her to hold off and I told her to stay inside.”

  “Good plan,” I said. “We don’t want anyone confronting a suspect on their own. I’m on my way.” I stopped by my room for my gear and sent Jennifer a text letting her know the address of where I was headed. Normally I’d wait on her, but with the prospect of a civilian jumping in and chasing someone who was probably dangerous, I didn’t want any delays.

  Great. The ranch belonged to the family of my friend from high school who was now married to one of the women who’d approached me after the town hall. Bree must have been wrong about them flirting, but after all that small-talk, I wasn’t up for another round.

  I left my SUV parked on the highway and walked toward the spot where I saw a thin line of smoke rising from behind the barn. As I walked, a small light swung in an arc. It had to be a flashlight.