by Jody Holford
“See you guys later! Love you,” Lucy had called while Kate belatedly realized what was happening.
Now, walking down the road that led to the main street of town, she could feel the sun warming her back. It had been uncomfortably warm in Africa, and she welcomed the more tolerable weather.
“Well, hey there, Lucy,” Mr. Kramer called from where he was putting out fresh produce in front of Adam’s Apples. She wandered over, adjusting the thick strap on her camera bag.
“How are you, Mr. Kramer?”
“You’re close to thirty now, Lucy. I think you can call me Nick,” he laughed, polishing up a Granny Smith on his long apron and handing it to her.
“Ouch. Thanks for the reminder. How are you?” she asked again, taking the apple and a large bite. He’d always given her and her friends apples on their way home from school, looking just as he did now, as if he’d come into the world as a gray-haired, smiley-faced old man.
“I’m very good. My Fiona is getting tired of the grocery store. Keeps talking about visiting foreign places, but I don’t want to go to Arizona and play golf,” he complained, his soft cap of hair moving along with his exaggerated golfing gestures.
“I don’t think Arizona counts as foreign. Don’t you have a houseful of grandkids yet?” Lucy laughed, the perfect blend of sweet and sour on her tongue.
“Ginny’s a few months along with her first. She’ll be happy to see you, I reckon. You kids are taking longer and longer to settle down. I don’t understand the hold up,” he groused, pulling bags out from underneath the fruit stand. A couple of cars meandered past them as other shops switched their signs to open and merchants called out hellos.
“I’m not quite sure what to say about that, but I’d love to see Ginny. Tell her I’ll come by. She’s on the outskirts of town, right?” Lucy asked, stepping back a little. This conversation didn’t seem any safer than the one in her parents’ kitchen.
“Sure is. They bought a big old house on Westwood that they’re restoring. It’s going to be something, for sure.”
“It definitely is,” Alex’s voice agreed from behind her. She felt heat creep up her cheeks and knew that when she turned, her face would be flushed.
“Hey,” she said as casually as possible given the not-so-casual somersaults taking place in her chest.
“Lucy,” he nodded, a quiet smile making him look like he knew something she didn’t.
“Morning, Sheriff. You want an apple?” Nick asked, wiping his hands on his almost white apron. The little apple decal over his chest was peeling off slightly.
“No thanks, Nick. Where you headed, Luce?” he asked, that same smile in place.
“For a walk. I had an idea to raise some funds for Kate’s project and wanted to get started. I should go. Thanks for the apple, Mr. Kramer. Tell Ginny I’ll come by and say hi.”
“I will. See you soon, dear. Good to have you home.”
Alex nodded to Nick, who made his way inside, and then fell in step beside Lucy as she wandered past the now-open shops. They walked in easy silence, waving here and there to people she knew and didn’t know. Everyone seemed to know Alex, which she supposed made sense. She busied herself by pulling her camera out of the case and attaching the lens. She could smell his cologne every now and again when a slight breeze shuffled past them. She inhaled through her nose louder than she’d intended.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asked, looking down at her as they moved to the edge of the town U.
“Uh,” she stammered, not sure how to answer.
“It’s the bread. They make it fresh every morning. It’s one of my favorite smells.”
With his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders relaxed, he looked more like he was headed out for a hike than he did like he was surveying his town, keeping a watch over everything.
“The bread? Yup. Smells good. Delicious, actually,” she smiled up at him from behind the viewfinder.
“Don’t start that again,” he groaned, putting his hand up to block the lens.
“Aw, come on, Sheriff. You’re very photogenic.”
“As are you, but I seem to remember you don’t like being on the other side of the lens, either.”
They turned up Maple Street, which branched off in two directions: toward Angel’s Lake Elementary and to the hills that held some of the best hiking trails in Minnesota. They veered toward the trails.
“I’m a much better photographer than I am a subject.”
She turned the camera toward the easy foot trails that were lined with a rainbow of wildflowers.
“I’d say you could be either, given that you look like a model,” he mumbled, picking up a handful of rocks from the path.
“Don’t you have a job to do?” she scoffed, adjusting the zoom lens.
“I’m doing it. I’m making sure you stay safe.”
“I see. Well, as long as I’m not keeping you from anything important.”
“I don’t tend to wander where I don’t want to be, Luce.”
She snapped a close -up of a black-eyed Susan while he paused beside her, in her space. They moved along the trail, farther from the town center toward the quiet and the still.
“Do you like being the sheriff?”
She kept snapping, letting the routine of it and the continuous clicking sound soothe her, knowing she’d likely have to delete most of the pictures when she got home.
“I do. It’s not a big town, but it’s busy enough, and I feel like being sheriff lets me give back to a town that has given so much to me,” he said thoughtfully. He seemed to say most things thoughtfully, which she figured made him good at his job.
She snapped his profile, the quiet serenity of him, and knew that she wouldn’t be deleting that particular picture.
“You act like this town saved you from something,” she murmured, lowering the camera.
“It did. When my mom ditched me, I hated everything. I hated her, my dad, this town … myself. But to be honest, I’d started hating most of those things before I got here,” he looked at her like he wanted her approval to go on. She settled herself back onto a large boulder surrounded by thick trees and kept her camera on her lap. She could smell the perfume of the flowers dancing with his cologne.
“We lived in Chicago, me and my mom. My dad left and moved back here when they divorced,” Alex continued, tossing the rocks he’d picked up into the stream down below them. “He had his parents here and a job if he ever wanted it. He phoned, kept in touch. But it didn’t matter. I was ten and pissed off that he’d left. She went from one guy to another, looking for someone to take care of us. I gave up trying to prove to her that we didn’t need anyone and started doing shit to make her mad. Getting in trouble at school, tagging buildings. Anything to keep her too busy to find another asshole that she thought would take care of her. Of us.”
His shoulders didn’t relax even after he’d thrown the last of the pebbles. She took a picture of the stream, wanting to hear the rest. He moved forward and she fell in step beside him.
“Did it work?”
He laughed without humor and looked over at her. His eyes were dim with what looked like regret. It surprised her how badly she wanted to make them bright again.
“A little too well. She packed us up and said she couldn’t do it anymore. ‘It’ meaning taking care of me. She dropped me off at Chuck’s without telling him and didn’t look back for ten years. She needed some money about five years ago, so she got in touch. I accidently hung up on her,” he chuckled. The sound made something tighten deep in her own belly.
“Think you’ll ever forgive her?”
“I think I mostly have. I just don’t want her in my life, you know? You’re lucky, Luce. You have a family that loves you. Misses you when you’re not here.”
She firmed her lips and tucked her camera back into the bag.
“I know,” was all she said. But inside, she wondered how true it was—at a certain point, didn’t you stop missing someo
ne and just get used to them being absent? She looked up at the sky where the clouds made fluffy pictures and the sun hedged toward noon.
“How long do you think you’ll be home?”
She turned, unsure of how far they had wandered, and started back down the trail. She had a feeling she knew the answer deep down in her soul but was afraid to think about it. Afraid to want it.
“Not long enough to go steady,” she joked.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm, and she closed her eyes to absorb all the sensations. The sun beating down on them was not as warm as the spot where his hand gripped her gently.
If he were looking to have his heart stomped on, torn out, and lit on fire, pursuing Lucy was the way to go. A smart man would walk her home, go back to work, and see if he could connect with a woman at the bar outside of town later tonight.
Lucy had her eyes closed. Her hair was tucked into a braid with little pieces falling out, like she’d been in a hurry and wasn’t really concerned with how she looked. She was wearing a plain-Jane tank top and a pair of shorts. Simple, dainty sandals, not at all fit for the trail, were on her feet. Yet, there was nothing plain or simple about the way she clung to him when they’d kissed the other night. Nothing ordinary in the heat that was coursing up his arm just from touching her—like he couldn’t touch enough of her at once. He pulled her closer. She let him.
“Who asked you to go steady? Maybe I just want to get laid,” he grinned, knowing that she deserved prettier words than that but knowing she’d run if he said any. She laughed loud and her shoulders released the tension she’d been carrying in them.
“Oh yeah. Because you’re just the type to go for a one-night stand. I bet you have a three-date minimum rule,” she smiled, her body brushing up against his.
“A minimum rule?”
“Yes, dating etiquette 101. Take girl on three dates before trying to get in her pants.”
“Okay, clearly that rule gets taught after high school.”
She laughed again, and he moved his body slightly so she could feel how well they fit together.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” he asked, his voice lower.
“No.”
“Then it wouldn’t be one night.”
“Alex. You know what I mean. I don’t know how long I’m staying. I can’t promise you anything.”
“I’m not sure where I got the reputation that I was holding out for an engagement ring, but I promise I can do casual just fine. You can’t deny there’s heat between us.”
He willed his body to stay calm as she tilted her head, pushed her chin out, and considered him. He tried to focus on the scent of flowers instead of her hair, on the sound of birds instead of her breathing. Breathing was a necessity and should not be found sexy. Yet on Lucy, it was.
“I won’t deny it. What do you mean by casual?” she asked, caution in those heart-stomping eyes. She moved her hands to his chest, which gave him permission to move his to her waist and pull her just a little tighter.
“I mean we enjoy each other while you’re here, and when you need to go, you go.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She frowned, narrowing her eyes—measuring him. He ran his hand up her back, catching it slightly on her camera strap.
“We’ll just enjoy each other with no strings?”
“Well, as long as no strings means that while we enjoy each other, no one else is enjoying you. Because then I’d have to shoot someone.”
She grinned, making his heart pound too hard and his face stretch with a stupid grin.
“Hmm. That would probably not bode well for your job,” she considered, going up onto her tiptoes and nipping the underside of his chin. He should have shaved this morning. Would have if he’d thought Lucy would be this close to him. She didn’t seem to mind.
“No. And I’ll need it to keep me busy once you leave and break my heart,” he whispered teasingly as he gripped the back of her tank top and closed his mouth roughly over hers before she could protest or say anything else.
She tasted like summer—like heat and fresh air all rolled into one. She stole his breath, and when her tongue met his, he wasn’t sure he cared about anything other than this moment, right now. Her. He thought he heard a car alarm off in the distance, but it seemed so far from where he was, wrapped up in Lucy. Her hands found their way under his lightweight shirt that read ALPD on the right pocket. Her touch pulled him back and under at the same time, and he framed her face with his hands, trying to regain a little bit of the control he needed to survive her.
The alarm sounded louder, breaking through the buzzing that he thought was a direct result of his brain overloading with lust. When Lucy pulled leaned away and looked down at his waist, he briefly thought about seeing how secluded the woods really were.
“You’re buzzing,” she said huskily. He yanked her closer, kissed her hard, and felt the vibration of being this close to her run through him.
“You have that effect on me.”
“No,” she said, laughing and pushing at his chest, “you’re actually buzzing. Is it your phone?”
He looked down just as his phone sounded again on his hip. Lucy laughed harder, which did nothing to abate his desire, but it did make him grin.
“Shit. Whitman,” he snapped.
He held Lucy’s waist as he listened to Dolores’s panicked, screechy voice. At the same time, he heard sirens in the distance. Fire trucks from the closest town coming in to help.
“Son of a bitch! I’m on my way. Call everyone in and tell Mick to meet me on-site.”
He pressed END and hooked the phone back on his belt loop, already moving forward.
Lucy followed immediately, concern lacing her words. “What’s wrong?”
“The rec center is on fire.” His pace increased, and he tugged Lucy with him.
She stopped, pulling her out of his grasp. “What?”
At her screech, he turned to see a look of panic in her eyes and her mouth hung open in shock.
With a gentler tone, he said, “I don’t know anything. Our local fire department is there, but I need to get there as quick as I can.” He held out his hand and she took it, letting him set the pace. But when she stumbled he stopped again. “Shit. Sorry. You alright?”
She nodded but her voice was strained. “Alex, go. I’ll catch up. Just get there.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Don’t be silly. Go. I’ll be right behind you, but I can’t run with this equipment or in these shoes,” she assured, pushing at him. He nodded grimly and took off, pissed at himself for not being where he was needed.
Chapter 6
The last time Lucy had seen her sister cry had been five years ago when Kate, then sixteen, had realized that her boyfriend’s claim that he “needed time” had actually meant that he “needed to make out, frequently, with other girls.” Lucy had rubbed Kate’s back while she hiccupped through her tears and said she’d never date anyone else again. Lucy had smiled when Kate had calmed down enough to admit she might date but would never fall in love again. And Lucy had hugged her tight when Kate had asked her how something that was once so special could hurt so much. With her twenty-three-year-old wisdom, she knew that her sister would bounce back, date again, and most certainly love again.
Standing beside Kate now, her arm wrapped around her sister’s waist, she didn’t know what to do. She felt like she’d had more wisdom at twenty-three than now and had no words to offer for her sister’s sadness. She didn’t know if a smile or a tighter hug would dry the silent tears spilling down Kate’s cheeks. Lucy stood as Kate did, motionless, soundless, watching heavily geared firefighters put out the blaze that was destroying the freshly painted, worn down building. Lucy could feel the heat from where they stood behind the tape Alex’s deputies had put up. Charlotte had shown up not long after Lucy and stood on Kate’s other side, her arm overlapping Lucy’s. The angry, orange haze fought bac
k hard as the firemen beat it down with water from varying angles. The smell of wood and smoke thickened the air, making it impossible to breathe in deeply. Alongside the two fire trucks, one from the neighboring county of Cook, were three Angel’s Lake cruisers. Lucy recognized Mick, who had been part of the police department since the dawn of time, talking to Alex.
“We’re doing it for them,” Kate uttered.
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Char asked.
Lucy looked over at her sisters. They had several of their mother’s features in common, but Lucy saw the differences between herself and the other two. More than she saw the similarities. Char had their dad’s strength and would say all of the right things. Lucy remained quiet.
Kate crumpled the Kleenex she was holding. “Why would the teens do this when the whole thing is being done for them?”
“We don’t know who did this, honey,” Char said.
“It’s got to be whoever has been putting graffiti all over the buildings and causing trouble around town. It doesn’t make sense for this not to be the same person or people, does it?”
Even Char had no answer for that. The flames were growing weary, giving up against the steady fight of the men in yellow. The voices in the crowd were almost as loud as the roar of the fire. .
“Kate, why don’t we go home? There’s nothing we can do here. Not right now,” Lucy suggested, her arm tightening as people inched closer to see the fading flames uselessly try to regain strength. Alex trudged toward them, a heavy jacket covering him despite the heat. His face was dirty—blackened like he’d played in the ashes, saddened like he had lost something as well. Lucy imagined they all looked similar as ash still floated around them silently.
Alex stopped directly in front of Kate and bent his knees so he could be eye to eye with her.
“Look at me,” he commanded, putting his hands on her shoulders. Lucy and Char continued to hang onto their sister.
“I will find who did this, Kate. I promise you,” he assured with such conviction that Lucy’s heart felt lighter. When he said it, she believed it. She looked at Kate to see if she also felt the truth in Alex’s words. More silent tears streamed, and Kate bit her lip, nodding in agreement. Alex leaned forward and kissed Kate’s cheek with genuine affection. Lucy’s heart squeezed with an uncomfortable tightness.