The Sheriff's Second Chance. Michelle Celmer

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СКАЧАТЬ she was so pale that Mel thought she had shuffled loose the mortal coil right there in the salon. Everyone had been too weirded out to try and wake her. Ultimately they’d held a hand mirror under her nose to make sure she was still breathing.

      Regina, one of the stylists, smiled sympathetically at Nate and said, “We all heard.”

      One sharp look from Mel shut her down, but Nate could feel the silent tension growing.

      “All finished, Miz Samuels,” Mel said loudly, helping her client up from the chair. Mrs. Samuels was by no means spry, but considering her advanced age she still got around fairly well. At least once a day she could be seen tooling around town in her mint condition, canary-yellow 1970 Mustang Fastback. A gift from her husband, Walter—God rest his saintly soul—on her forty-fifth birthday.

      As Mel opened the door for her, her eyes snagged on Nathan’s and a silent understanding passed between them. He followed her through the salon, past the nail techs and washbowls to her office in the back.

      When they were inside, she closed and locked the door, then leaned against it. “Are you okay? As soon as I heard I called to warn you, but you didn’t answer. You saw her at the diner?”

      “Yes. And I’m fine,” he told her.

      She lifted a questioning brow.

      He sighed. If there was one person he trusted with his true feelings, it was Mel. They were best friends. “Okay, I’m coping.”

      “I guess we both knew Caitie coming back was a possibility.”

      Yet they had never discussed how they would handle it if she did. An oversight he now regretted.

      “How does she look?” Mel asked. She had once admitted to Nate that deep down she had always been a little jealous of Caitie. It had seemed to Mel that all the good stuff happened to her best friend. She did better in school than Mel, who, like their son, had a mild form of dyslexia. Caitie’s hair, a natural pale honey blond, always seemed to fall perfectly into place with hardly any effort while Mel had to wrestle with her naturally curly auburn locks for an hour every morning. Caitie’s creamy smooth complexion had been flawless while Mel battled teenage acne and oily skin. Caitie was also tall, slender and lithe, and never had to watch what she ate. Mel was forever battling the bulge and swore she gained weight just looking at food. And no matter how many times he told her she was beautiful—which she was, both inside and out—she’d wrestled with her insecurities. And still did, which is why he chose his next words very carefully.

      “She looks...the same.” He didn’t mention her weight, since it was such a sore spot with Mel. She had tried every diet craze and exercise gimmick known to man, yet she never lost more than ten or fifteen pounds. Which was twenty to twenty-five pounds less than she wanted to lose.

      A deck chair off the Titanic, she’d called it.

      “I heard she’s in some sort of trouble,” Mel said. “Someone even suggested that she’s on the run from the FBI.”

      He’d heard that, too, when he stopped by the station after breakfast. But no one as intelligent as Caitie would be dense enough to hide from law enforcement in her hometown right under her parents’ roof. And if there were a manhunt to find her, as local law enforcement, he would have heard about it by now. “I seriously doubt that.”

      “So she’s probably not going into witness protection, either,” Mel said.

      “Not that I’m aware.”

      “Do you know how long she’s staying?”

      Hopefully not long. “Nope.”

      Mel gnawed her bottom lip. “What was it like to see her again?”

      He shrugged and told a little white lie. “It was disturbing to see her again...at first. But now I don’t feel much of anything about it.”

      “This could get awkward,” she said. “And complicated.”

      Story of his life.

      “I’m not going to let it come between us,” he assured her. “Our friendship means more to me than Caitie ever could.”

      She didn’t look as if she believed him. “I was invisible to you until she left.”

      “Mel—”

      She stopped him midsentence, brushing away the tear that leaked down her cheek. “That wasn’t fair, I know. Please, ignore me. I’m feeling sorry for myself. I just can’t help thinking, now that she’s back, you’re going to forget all about me and Cody.”

      “That will never happen.” He pulled Mel into his arms and kissed the top of her head, his heart hurting for her, wishing he could have loved her as something other than a friend. He did try, but after six months of marriage counseling, even the therapist agreed they would be better off as partners in parenting and good friends. Divorce had been the only viable option if they had any hope of preserving their friendship. It hadn’t been easy, but they were in a good place now. And to this day he had no regrets, not when he looked at their son. “If Caitie never left, Cody wouldn’t even exist.”

      “That’s true,” she said.

      Nate never knew how much he wanted to be a father until he watched his son being born, held him for the very first time. He had been totally unplanned, and three weeks premature. And so tiny and fragile Nate had been terrified he might drop him. Cody had gazed up at Nate with the wisdom and patience of a very old soul, as if to say, Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. I have faith in you.

      Nate fell instantly in love and from that day forward, his boy was all that mattered. Nate knew the first time he held his son that he was destined for great things. And now, at six years old, Cody had an innate patience and a deep understanding of people that left adults scratching their heads. Sometimes he would get this look, as if he knew something no one else did. And though his reading difficulties set him apart from other kids his age, he took it all in stride.

      “Are you still in love with her?” Mel asked, her voice muffled against Nate’s shirt.

      The question was so out of the blue, so ridiculous, he snapped his head back hard enough to give himself whiplash. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”

      She looked up at him, her eyes—which could never decide if they wanted to be blue or green—swimming with tears. “Is it really that unusual a question? You loved her before.”

      “Without trust, there can be no love.”

      “You never got closure. Neither of us have.” Her arms tightened around him. “Now I’m so confused. This morning, when Regina told me Caitie was back, my first instinct was to run down to the diner, throw my arms around her and hug her. I was actually excited at the idea of seeing her, and for a split second I desperately wanted my best friend back.”

      Mel’s first instinct involved hugs and reconciliation. The only thing Nate had wanted to do was hurl. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “If that’s how you feel, maybe you should talk to her.”

      “I’m not sure what I feel. I never imagined that her coming back could be so—”

      “Disruptive,” he finished for her.

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