Everything had changed with the screech of tires and the crunch of metal. The smoke. The sheriff. The hospital. That was the day I lost her. And this was why I never came back. Nostalgia started with a smile and ended in heartache.
I pulled as close to the edge of the makeshift parking area as I could get without going over the side, and I turned on my high beams. The headlights reflected off the dark water and cast deeper shadows around the streams of light. The dock sat empty and rickety. Nothing could ever be easy with Miranda Adams. I put the truck in park and left it running when I hopped out.
“Miranda?” I hollered, not that I expected a response. I moved down the overgrown path and wondered if anyone ever came out here anymore. “Miranda?” God, I hated using her full name. It was as stuffy as her clothes and hair.
I nearly busted my ass when my boot got stuck under a tree root. I managed to break my fall with my hands and dusted them off on my jeans. It only served to skyrocket my anger. I’d been sent on a wild goose chase to find a woman who obviously preferred to be left alone. Yet, here I was, walking down a dock not sturdy enough to safely hold a small child, much less a two-hundred-pound man.
I’d gone as far as I could. At the end of the wooden walkway, I closed my eyes. Her laughter played in my head; the splashing, the goofing off, it all still existed in the recesses of my memories. The sun shone bright, and the heat was horrific. A smile danced on the corners of my mouth when I glanced over the water to see her floating on her back. Randi’s flat stomach dipped under the surface, and she wiggled her toes. It was all there as though I could touch her if I jumped in.
“Austin? Son, is that you out there?”
Lost in the last day I remembered being whole, I hadn’t heard Sheriff Patton pull up. The lights on the patrol car spun, yet the siren didn’t ring. “Yes, sir.” And just like that, the memory vanished.
“What are you doing out there?”
I started toward him, careful to watch my step. “Looking for Miranda Adams.”
He belted out a hearty laugh, one that came from the gut. “You been drinking?”
I climbed the path, wondering if he’d been drinking. “No, sir.” By the time I answered, I stood in front of him.
He’d gained weight over the years, and his face showed the wear and tear of decades on a small-town police force. Mason Belle didn’t have a high crime rate, but the sheriff’s job in this county went beyond just arresting criminals. He played counselor to misguided youth, peacekeeper to squabbling spouses, and charity organizer to families in need. “What are you doing out here after dark?”
I was tired and not the least bit interested in having a conversation, but Sheriff Patton wouldn’t think twice about getting in his cruiser and calling my dad to rat me out. “Like I said, looking for Miranda Adams.” I sounded like a broken record.
He clapped my shoulder with a firm grip and chuckled. “Son, she ain’t been in these parts for years.”
There was zero chance word hadn’t spread about her arrival. Mason Belle lived for gossip, and her return was the perfect thing for women to chatter about over coffee. “Hate to tell you…she showed up a couple of days after Jack landed in the hospital. Been here since.”
“Randi?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He stared at me, waiting for more information. I didn’t have anything else to share.
“And you thought she’d be out here in the dark?” He looked around. “Without a car?”
“Truth is, I don’t have a clue where she went. Rand got upset because he heard us fighting.”
He jutted his chin out. “Charlie’s boy? I didn’t think he’d ever met her.”
I wasn’t going to get into this with him. Family business stayed within the family. “I promised my nephew I’d find her.”
Sheriff Patton quirked his brow in anticipation of something far juicier than anything I had to share.
I widened my stance and crossed my arms. “It’s not like that. At all.” I hadn’t convinced him, but I didn’t need to. I needed to find Randi, take her home, and let Sarah deal with her. “I gotta go. If you see her, will you take her back to Cross Acres? Sarah’s worried.”
“That girl’s got a heart as pure as snow. Not sure I coulda forgiven her if it’d been me.”
If I were a dog, the cockles on my back would have risen. Since I was a man, the hair on my neck stood on end, my heart hammered, and I clenched my fists under folded arms. Regardless of how much time had passed, Randi wasn’t responsible for what happened to her sister. I didn’t care what anyone said. In my eyes, Jack had as much blame, if not more, for putting his oldest daughter in the position to play mom to his youngest. Randi didn’t make Sarah get in that car to follow us. She didn’t T-bone the car with a semi. She hadn’t been the one to consume enough tequila to put a small army on their ass before getting behind the wheel of a tractor trailer. None of that was on Randi, but Mason Belle—and Jack Adams—let her shoulder the blame for the last six years.
“It was a tough situation for everyone involved.” I tipped my hat to the sheriff. “I hate to cut it short, but I have a nephew depending on me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
I started moving as soon as he accepted my departure. I needed to find Miranda before someone else in Mason Belle did. His opinion was mild compared to the other residents of this town. They’d eat Miranda up and spit her out. And based on how she’d taken my lashings, I doubted she’d fight off any of them, either. Regardless of whether or not I liked the girl, I couldn’t allow anyone to face a lynch mob. Not even Miranda Adams—the one person in my life who deserved it.
* * *
I slowed the truck when I hit the edge of town. There weren’t many people on the sidewalks after dark, so the likelihood that I’d miss Miranda, if I saw her, was slim. Most of the shops closed at five, along with the tiny post office. I hadn’t stopped at the feed store when I passed. I couldn’t imagine any reason she’d have gone in there. Clancy, the owner, was a hundred years old if he was a day, and crotchety as all get-out. I had no desire to interact with him unless I had to.
There were a couple of cars at the filling station, so I pulled in and inched my way down the glass front. Unless Miranda had taken a seat on the floor, she wasn’t strolling the aisles of the Pump & Go. I wondered how long it would take someone to flag me down to question what in tarnation I was doing, and at the rate my truck moved, they could jump in front of it and not risk being mowed over. With only two places left—other than Clancy’s—that remained open, I pulled into the diner parking lot. It was either here or the Piggly Wiggly.
I parked behind the building. There wasn’t much of a crowd. In fact, the two other cars in the lot belonged to the cook and the waitress. I hesitated. The truck door remained open, and I turned to hop down; I just hadn’t actually let my feet hit the ground. I didn’t have a choice. Nevertheless, I dreaded stepping inside the diner. Charity was there. I’d have to answer questions I wasn’t prepared for. The moment anyone in Mason Belle got wind of me out looking for Miranda Adams, I’d face the onslaught I had six years ago. A replay of that didn’t appeal to me.
My phone rang in my pocket, giving me an excuse to prolong my exit. I shook my head when I saw Sarah’s name on the screen. Either she had someone following me, or she had ESP.
“Yeah?” It wasn’t friendly, but it would do.
“Any luck?”
I hadn’t deposited her sister on her father’s doorstep, so I’d say it was a safe assumption I hadn’t had any. “Not yet.” I was a man of few words.
“Call me when you find her.”
There had to be a reason I took orders from my brother’s wife; although, I’d be damned if I knew what it was. “Will do.” I hung up without a goodbye and slid out of the driver’s seat.
The heavy door slammed behind me, and I wondered if it foreshadowed what I’d find inside. My high school English teacher would be proud I had even remembered that word. Mrs. G
ault had always hated me.
I rounded the corner of the building, took a deep breath, and exhaled when I put my fingers around the handle and opened the door. Charity leaned against the counter next to the register. The moment she caught my eye, I was certain she’d either seen Miranda or Miranda was still here. Charity exaggerated the chomp of her gum in annoyance. I lifted my head in question, and thankfully, she just tilted hers to indicate the direction I needed to go. For once, Charity kept her thoughts to herself and her mouth shut—well, except for the grotesque display with the gum.
Miranda sat in the far corner with her back to the entrance. With her hair cut short, no one would recognize her. Not that the diner currently had any patrons. From behind, she could have been any number of women in Mason Belle.
I slid into the booth opposite her and got Charity’s attention with the lift of my chin. She raised a pot of coffee, and I nodded. If they had something stronger, I’d have taken a double shot straight. Since caffeine was the most potent thing I’d find, it would have to do. For now.
Her lifeless eyes met mine. She had clearly spent a good bit of time crying. A part of me wanted to switch sides, move next to her, wrap my arm around her, and fix whatever was broken. The rational part of me remembered that wasn’t my job. Miranda Adams wasn’t mine anymore. She belonged to another man, and I’d never cross that line.
“What are you doing here, Austin?”
If I hadn’t been listening when Miranda’s mouth opened, I would have missed her question.
Charity showed up with an empty cup and a fresh pot of coffee. She filled a mug for me, topped Miranda’s off, and then left without a word. I took a sip, noting she still drank hers black, too. Every other woman I’d ever met treated coffee like dessert.
“Looking for you.”
She leaned back and put her hands in her lap. “You found me.”
I had, and now, sitting here in front of her, the last thing I had any desire to do was haul her to my truck, drive her down the road, and dump her off at her daddy’s. I’d spent too many years angry. The opportunity presented itself to clear the air. I’d blown my top earlier and released most of the pent-up aggression or hurt, whatever it had been.
Miranda lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. Like a movie, a flashback of the past, a vision of eighteen-year-old Randi, blinked before me. I’d always found that habit seductive, primarily because she wasn’t conscious of the fact that she did it when she was nervous. I loved the innocence in her expression and the way her eyes almost cowered behind her lashes. It was pure and as close to angelic as Randi ever got.
It took effort to soften my tone. I ignored the bell that rang over the door. She was on the defensive. If I wanted to have a discussion, I’d have to make her believe she was safe. “Can we talk?”
Her pupils narrowed, though her expression remained flat. “About?”
I’d thought about this conversation more times than I could count, yet when the chance to have it arose, my mind went blank. I shrugged. “What have you been up to?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Really? You have me alone in a corner, and that’s the question you want an answer to?”
No. It wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. “It’s a good place to start.”
Miranda shifted in the seat, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again. She was thinner than she had been in high school. I hadn’t noticed it so much on the ranch, yet sitting across from her, it was quite obvious. “Okay… I moved to New York. I met Eason the day I got off the bus. He helped me get into school for paralegal work and hired me in his law firm. We’ve lived together since, and I still work at the practice.”
She’d summed up six years in a handful of meaningless sentences that told me nothing other than stats I could have found on Facebook if she used social media.
“Are you happy?” It came out before I realized what I’d said.
The question appeared to surprise her as much as it had me. “Sure. New York’s a great place to live.” There was no smile in her voice, nothing that indicated she loved life.
That wasn’t a ringing endorsement. Warning bells, sirens, whistles, they all went off in my head. For a girl who’d been with a man as long as Miranda had Eason, I expected more. He obviously defined her life if she lived with him and worked for him.
“Is Eason good to you?”
Her features scrunched, and that look was all Randi. The Randi I’d loved. The one who died the day that car crashed. “Of course.” She appeared offended, yet she didn’t defend him.
Miranda watched me intently, although she remained quiet. I hadn’t realized until that moment how desperate I was to hear the sound of her voice, to engage in a normal conversation. I wanted to forget the last six years and pretend like there’d never been an accident. I’d kill to see her tilt her head back in laughter or witness one genuine smile.
“I’m not going to bite you, Miranda. You can talk. We can catch up. That’s what friends do.” Friends. I hated that word. She’d never be a friend. We may never be anything more again, but I’d never place her in that category in my life.
“I don’t know what to say, Austin. You’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about me since I arrived at the ranch.”
I needed something to do with my hands. They shook beneath the table, and if I didn’t get my nerves under control, I’d start babbling. “I’m sorry.” I paused, and her facial muscles relaxed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” It was an excuse. “Not that anyone had to warn me.” And that sounded awful. “I didn’t recognize you.” That was the painful truth.
She wrapped her hands around her mug, yet she didn’t lift it. Her thumb traced circles on the ceramic. “I don’t look all that different.” It wasn’t just her appearance. “So, what was it then?”
“You cut your hair.” There were days I marveled at my conversational brilliance.
She grazed her fingertips over the ends self-consciously. “You don’t like it?”
I wasn’t sure why it mattered if I did or didn’t. “You always loved your hair. I’m just surprised.”
“Is that it?”
I couldn’t figure out how to get away from this. “I don’t know. You don’t sound like you, anymore. And you showed up in a limo for Christ’s sake. You looked like you stepped off the runway, not an airplane.” I didn’t mean to be harsh. “It caught me off guard.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. “If anyone had told me you worked at the ranch, I wouldn’t have come.”
My chest constricted painfully. All these years, I’d believed she hid from Jack. Now I had to wonder if it was me.
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. When she opened them, any emotion that had surfaced had cleared. They were empty again, soulless. “I didn’t mean it the way you took it.”
“How’d you mean it?”
Charity came around with the coffee at the perfect moment for Miranda and the wrong one for me. It didn’t escape my attention, or Miranda’s for that matter, that Charity refused to look at her and only spoke to me. People in Mason Belle hurt for a long time over Miranda’s disappearance. And if they continued to treat her the way Charity and I had, they wouldn’t have to worry about her ever returning.
She waited for Charity to leave before she responded. “I owe you an explanation. You more than anyone.” There was a pause, and I was afraid if I filled the silence then she’d quit talking. “I never meant to hurt you.”
I ached, seeing her this way. Nothing about her had healed in New York. She’d withered into something unrecognizable. “What did he do?” I whispered.
“It doesn’t matter.”
But it did. Without regard for my actions, I reached out and placed my hand on top of hers. “You can always come home.” I didn’t have a clue where that had come from. Mason Belle would not open its arms to the princess who’d shunned them, not without a lot of explanation.
She snickered, and her shoulders dropped. She did not, how
ever, remove her hand from underneath mine, and I took the chance to give her fingers a gentle squeeze.
“It’s not that easy, Austin.”
I kept my voice low. “Why not?”
“Sometimes you can’t come home.”
That was bullshit. It might be uncomfortable. People might expect apologies. Even still, she absolutely could make that choice, just like she’d made one to leave.
“Why? Because of some guy? Some job? A fancy town? You can leave every bit of that behind.”
She stared at me with wonder instead of gall.
“If you want to come back, you can. But it would take the gumption of the girl I knew, not the one who showed up in a Hummer with a man in a suit.”
As if I’d slapped her, the mention of Eason had her withdrawing her hand. “And just walk away from my life?”
“You’ve done it before.”
She flattened her lips and nodded defensively…slowly. “And there it is.”
“Damn, Randi. Come on. What do you expect?”
“Nothing. That’s why I’ve tried to keep my distance. You came looking for me, remember?”
“Your sister sent me.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Of course, she did. I should have known you’d never come on your own. God knows you never made any attempt to find me before, but Sarah waves her hand, and you’re on a mission.” She tossed a few dollars on the table and slid across the bench.
Shit. I pulled my wallet out and tossed a couple of bucks down. Miranda had made it to the front door and grasped the handle when Charity decided now was the time to chime in.
“You’re wastin’ your time, Austin. Let her go. She’s not worth it.” Disgust lifted her lip in a snarl, and I’d never hated the sound of a Southern twang until that moment.
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