The Sheriff's Second Chance. Michelle Celmer

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      Not often anyway. In fact, she hoped that tomorrow at the station would be the last she saw of him. She anticipated that the headhunter would call soon with good news and she could go back to New York.

      Nate didn’t say a word as he pulled up her parents’ long gravel driveway and rolled to a stop close to the side door. The three-car detached garage was open and her mom’s car was parked inside. Maybe Caitie could con a ride back to the diner from her.

      This being the first time she had seen the house in true daylight since she’d arrived, she took a good look around. Was it her imagination or were things looking a little...run-down?

      Despite the hours they worked, her parents had always seen that the house and yard were meticulously cared for. Even if that meant hiring one of the local kids to mow the grass. Caitie had been too busy with work and school to do it, and if Kelly had been handcuffed to the mower she would find an excuse to get out of it.

      The once white siding on the house had weathered to a dull gray, and the trim around the windows was peeling in places. The front flower beds were dry and scrubby and overgrown, more weeds than flowers. The vegetable garden was in no better shape. She saw only a few straggly plants that looked as if they had come up on their own from seed.

      As long as Caitie had been alive, they planted the garden every spring, and in the fall her mom would take a couple of days off work to can the crop. She would put up pickles, relish and dilly beans and several varieties of hot peppers. In the fall they went apple picking at a local orchard so her mom could make sauce. The all-natural chunky kind with no added sugar. Until she was away at school Caitie had never even tried store-bought applesauce. There was no comparison.

      She wondered if she could help her parents out by tidying up the yard, planting a flat or two of flowers. Marigolds had always been her mom’s favorite. The front porch could stand a good scrubbing and a fresh coat of paint, as well. As could the siding and the trim. Heck, she might as well paint it all, and totally re-landscape the yard. It would be the perfect project to keep her occupied while she was there. Something constructive to do. She’d always hoped that someday she would have time to explore her creative side. Maybe this was her chance.

      She waited for Nate to get out and open her door, but he just sat there, eyes forward, not moving or making a sound. Had he forgotten that she was locked in?

      She cleared her throat, hoping to catch his attention, but he didn’t budge. It was as if he’d forgotten she was back there.

      After another minute or so, her patience began to wear thin. He knew she was in a hurry. Why would he let her postpone the police report, drive her home, then keep her trapped in his backseat?

      If he needed to say something, she wished he would just spit it out.

      “Penny for your thoughts,” she said, taking a stab at a little lighthearted humor.

      He cut his eyes to her in the mirror, looking anything but amused.

      “Or not,” she mumbled.

      His expression was so empty, so lacking in emotion, he could have been cast from wax had his mouth not been moving. “I used to think if I ever saw you again, the only thing I would want to know is why. But now that you’re here, now that we’ve come face-to-face, I realize...” He looked back at her over his shoulder. “I don’t care anymore.”

      Ouch. Whether or not hurting her had been his goal, that remark cut deep. Not that she had expected him to be miserable, alone and still pining for her, unable to move on with his life. But a girl could hope, right?

      She banished that thought to somewhere deep down where it belonged. And having said his piece—short though effective as it had been—Nate finally got out and opened her door.

      As she was climbing out, her battered knees protesting with a deep, stinging ache, she heard the side door on the house creak open. She looked over to see her mom standing on the back porch.

      In Cait’s opinion, her mom, Betty, was as pretty now as she had been at seventeen, when she won the Miss Denver beauty pageant. She was thirty years older now, and a little bit softer around the edges, but she still had that spark. It had been difficult as a child, growing up in a household with females as beautiful as her mom and sister. No one ever came right out and told Caitie she was aesthetically inferior, but she knew.

      Caitie sometimes wondered if her mom ever regretted not doing more with her life. During her stint as a beauty queen, a Chicago-based modeling agency had offered her a two-year contract. She could have had an exciting career in the city, but instead she chose to stay in Paradise, get married and work at the diner.

      Gauging by her stunned expression, seeing Caitie with Nate was probably the last thing her mom expected on Caitie’s first day back.

      “Hello, Nate,” she said, looking quizzically from him to Caitie. But as Caitie stepped out from behind the car door and her mom saw her disheveled appearance, including the dried blood caked on her knees, she gasped and clasped a hand to her bosom. “What on earth happened to you?”

      Caitie had never been one to resort to sarcasm to make a point, but what the heck. “Nate and I were just getting reacquainted,” she said, smiling when she heard him grumble under his breath.

      He never used to grumble.

      “I’m going to assume that was a joke,” her mom said, though she looked as if she wasn’t sure.

      “See ya, Betty,” Nate said, then narrowed his cop stare on Caitie. “Eight a.m. Don’t forget.”

      Like she could forget that. “Thanks for the ride, Deputy Jefferies.”

      He shot her a look.

      Had he or had he not insisted that she address him by his rank? Now he didn’t like it?

      Nate grumbled something incoherent as he got in the cruiser and drove away. He never used to grumble, and he sure did seem to frown a lot now. Perhaps the serious nature of his profession had jaded him.

      But this was Paradise, where there was barely any crime to be jaded about.

      Caitie turned back to her mom, who stood patiently awaiting an explanation.

      “So,” she asked, looking Caitie up and down. “Rough morning?”

      Feeling exhausted, as if she’d just worked a week of double shifts, when in reality it was barely eleven, Caitie sighed and said, “You have no idea.”

      Chapter Three

      “Let’s get you cleaned up,” her mom said, and Caitie followed her into the house. A pot simmered on the stove, and the scent of spicy tomato sauce hung heavy in the air.

      At least the inside of her parents’ house hadn’t changed much. The furniture was older, the carpet worn in places, but the house was neat as a pin.

      “Maybe you could tell me what really happened,” her mom suggested, lifting the lid and giving the sauce a quick stir. “Like how you hurt your knees.”

      Caitie slumped into a kitchen chair. “You think this is bad, you should see the other guy.”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ