by Hope Ramsay
“I missed the deadline for applying to the program at the technical college.”
“No excuses.” Colt crossed his arms, knowing it made him look a little intimidating.
“Give me a break, Chief,” Aiden said. “The deadline was around the time I got in trouble last spring.” He glanced downward. “Plus I don’t have money for school.”
“Well, there’s loans and scholarships and—”
“Those are for people with better grades than me. I’m not—”
“Good enough? Look, you’re not going to get anywhere if you talk like that. And I actually made a call to the technical college. They admit people if someone drops out. So get your application in so you can get on the waiting list. You never know what can happen.” Plus Colt had a buddy who taught at the college and said he’d look into what he could do for the kid. Colt didn’t tell Aiden that, though.
“It was easier for you because you came from a good family.”
Colton sighed. He really hated telling his story, because it was still painful in a way. But this kid needed to hear it. “My parents both died before I went to high school. I was an all-state wide receiver with a full ride to a D1 school until I blew my ACL in the last game of the season. I had to give up my scholarship and my dream of playing football. Even though I rehabbed that knee for a year, I never got back to my prior form. But people lent me a hand and I got through it. You can too.”
He’d become a cop because his dream had gotten shot all to hell, and because the Angel Falls force, who had known his father well when he’d worked here as a rookie cop, took care of their own.
Not that he’d deserved their help. He’d been an arrogant SOB and hadn’t wanted anyone’s help. But they’d offered him a job cleaning toilets and emptying the city’s trash cans, then helping out at different events like the traffic camp for little kids, and they’d shown him a cop’s life. It had changed his outlook, given him another purpose, and he’d discovered he wanted to be a cop.
After college and the police academy, Chief McGregor offered him a job, and he came home to take care of Cookie and Hannah. He might’ve had grander dreams, but family was family, and Angel Falls was where he’d ended up, for better or for worse. Not that he didn’t like his job—he did, a lot. He just wondered sometimes if he should be somewhere he could make a real difference instead of rescuing people’s dogs and giving out parking tickets.
“The way I see it, you can accept you’re not going to get anywhere and have a shitty life or fight like hell to pull yourself up.” He slapped Aiden on the back. “Bring your application by the station and I’ll go over it with you.”
“Yes, sir,” Aiden said.
“And Aiden?”
“Yes, Chief?”
“You should put your shirt on so you don’t sunburn and get skin cancer.”
“Aw, don’t worry about me, Chief. I’m wearing sunblock.”
“I’m sure you are. But my grandmother can see you and it might be too much excitement for her.”
“Aw, Chief, your grandmother’s not going to care if…”
Colt interrupted. “It’s not just my grandma I’m worried about, if you get my meaning.”
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck.
“Just keep the shirt on, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” he said cautiously.
Colton nodded. As he turned to walk to the house, a dog bounded over to them from across the grass.
A bull terrier with brown ears and a big pirate patch over his left eye.
Rocket.
As he looked up from petting the dog, sure enough, there was Sara’s grandmother coming up the driveway, a little out of breath. She was dressed in turquoise pants, a sweater, and white orthopedic walking shoes, and she was carrying Rocket’s leash. She didn’t look disheveled at all, but he recognized a certain look of panic in her eyes.
“Oh, Colton, I’m so glad to see you!” she said, clutching his arm. “Hello,” she said politely to Aiden.
Colton patted her hand. “Is something wrong, Rose? How can I help you?”
“Oh, you’re a dear. Maybe you can help me. This isn’t my street. I—can you tell me where Glenwillow Lane is? I was taking Rocket for a walk, but I was so busy daydreaming I wandered off course a little bit.”
Wandered off course. Ever since her dementia diagnosis, he’d been keeping an extra eye out, but she’d never done this before. His cell phone went off at his hip before he could reach for it to call Rafe.
“Hey, Colty, you big hunk of love,” said Carmen, his dispatcher, the pleasant lilt of her Puerto Rican accent familiar and friendly. She was sassy and flirty and really good at her job. Plus at sixty, she didn’t take crap from anyone, even him.
“Hey, Carmen, what’s up?” Worry instantly pricked Colton’s neck. Carmen fiercely guarded his time off. She never called unless it was important.
“I know you’re off duty, but I just got a call from Sara Langdon that her sweet old abuela’s gone missing. I thought I’d catch you on your cell because you might be somewhere around the ’hood. Unless you’re with a lady friend or something, in which case I do not want to know.”
Colton ignored the lady comment. Carmen was always trying to find out details about his love life. “You have great instincts, because Rose just walked into my grandmother’s yard.”
“I always have great instincts as far as you’re concerned, babe.” Carmen paused. “Sara’s worried about Rocket too. You got Rocket there?”
Colton bent down to scratch the dog behind the ears. He promptly went belly up for more. “Rocket’s present and accounted for. Thanks, Carmen.” Rocket started bathing his hand with his tongue in a gesture of gratitude. Colton stood up. He and Rocket were pals, but he drew the line at being coated with doggy saliva. “Hey, will you call Sara right away and tell her everything’s under control? And will you give me her number, please?”
He’d call her and tell her he was driving Rose home. As a public service, of course.
“Bold move, Chief. How much is it worth to you?” his smart-ass dispatcher said.
Oh, for God’s sake. “Just text me the number, Carmen.”
“Okeydokey, Colty. And you show that girl what a gem you are, baby. Make her forget all about that no-good ex-fiancé of hers.”
“Bye already, Carmen.”
He guided Rose up to the back patio. She wound her arm through his, placing her thin, veined hand on his forearm as they walked through the grass. “Come sit down a minute, and then I’ll drive you home.” He wanted to make sure she was all right. Offer her some water or something. And call Sara.
“It was the strangest thing, Colton. All of a sudden I looked around and I didn’t see anything I recognized. Until I saw you.” She patted his hand. The fear in her eyes twisted his gut. What kind of disease was this that hijacked a person’s life, made someone who’d lived here her whole life forget her own damn neighborhood? He felt bad for Rose. And for Sara, who must be panicking.
Speaking of Sara, suddenly there she was, running down the sidewalk, waving.
Just then Cookie came out the back door. She was dressed for book club in white pants and pumps and a bright floral blouse, but when she saw him sitting with Sara’s grandmother, she tossed her purse on a chair and walked over.
“Hi, Rose, dear,” Cookie said, giving her a hug, then stooping to pet Rocket. “I just made some lemonade. Can you stay and chat for a few minutes?” She looked over at Aiden, who was carrying a bucket to the hose. “Aiden, you too. Come have a drink.” She winked at Colton, and he nodded. Thirty years as a kindergarten teacher had made Cookie an excellent multitasker, always ready to jump into action.
Colton met Sara halfway down the driveway, took her by the elbow, and guided her to his cruiser. She was clutching a hand to her chest, a look of alarm on her face.
“She’s fine,” he said, holding on to her arms and looking her in the eye until he was certain that registered. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, an
d she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, Colton. Thank God. Carmen called me, and I just took off running down here.”
He rubbed her arms, which wasn’t very professional, but she was clearly upset. “You OK?”
“Just upset with myself. I told Nonna I’d go for a walk with her and went up to find shoes and then she was just…gone. Like she’d forgotten I was coming with her, maybe? Anyway, I panicked and called the station.”
“You did the right thing,” he said in the most calming voice he could muster. “Rose saw me out in the yard and walked over. She was a little panicked. Said she didn’t know how to get back to her street.”
“Oh God.” She took a step toward her grandmother, but Colton stopped her.
“I don’t think it would help her if you’re upset. Maybe take another minute before you go over there.”
She nodded. “I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. That’s the whole point of my coming back home to live with her.”
Ah. He’d wondered why Sara had come back home. “Don’t blame yourself. Everything’s fine. She didn’t go far, and she knew to ask for help.”
Sara nodded, but he could tell by her expression it wasn’t fine at all.
She turned those piercing green eyes on him, and he nearly melted. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Not a problem. I’m happy to help anytime you need me.” And, strangely enough, he meant it.
He released her, and together they walked over to the back patio. Aiden was standing with the older women, giving them a tour of the numerous tattoos inked all over his arms and chest while they watched, enraptured. “This one is the Chinese symbol for ‘gentle but strong’ and this is my dog’s name, Sparky. He died last year.”
Colton made sure not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should be horrified or pleased. The kid was certainly friendly. But he still had his damn shirt off.
Rose saw Sara and broke into a smile. “Oh, there you are, dear.” She held out her hand, which Sara immediately grabbed. To Sara’s credit, she didn’t get emotional or freak out. “I was just taking Rocket out for a walk,” Rose said, “and look who we ran into. Colton and Cookie invited me to sit down for a drink, wasn’t that nice?”
“Help yourself to a brownie, dear,” Cookie said, pointing to the table. “And some lemonade.”
Sara hugged Cookie and thanked her, then sat next to her grandmother and made small talk. Rocket came and sprawled at her feet, resting his head on her tennis shoe.
Colton sat down too. Sara was telling a story that made the ladies laugh about a kid she’d treated in her residency. She was animated, using her hands, her eyes lighting up with laughter.
That started Cookie off telling school stories. At one point Colton caught Sara looking at him. Or maybe she caught him looking at her, he wasn’t sure which. But she shot him a grateful look and mouthed Thank you.
It was strange seeing this side of her. He was used to the wound-too-tight Sara, the one who was a perfectionist above all else and expected the same from everyone else around her. When she chatted and laughed, she looked like a normal person. A pretty person. One whose phone number he had in his phone.
Where had that thought come from? He’d never call her. No way. Out of the question.
His thoughts were distracted, fortunately, by Hannah’s car pulling back up the driveway. She got out, clearly in a hurry, not bothering to close her car door. “I forgot my dance bag!” she called in their direction, waving to everyone gathered on the porch.
She stopped suddenly on her way into the house. “Oh my gosh, Sara, what are you doing here? Hi, Mrs. F. Rocket! There’s my good boy! How are you?” Rocket came bounding over, thumping his tail against the patio stone and leaning against Sara’s leg in admiration. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” she crooned, petting him. “My mean brother took Champ with him when he moved out and I’m totally doggy deprived.” She looked up at Sara. “What’s going on?”
“We were just passing by on a walk,” Sara said. Hannah stole a look at Colt as if to say, What alternate universe is this? But Colt kept his expression neutral.
“I’m glad you’re back in town,” Hannah said to Sara. “Talk to you soon, K?”
“Let’s have coffee and catch up,” Sara said.
“Sounds great. I gotta go!” She bolted into the house. A few seconds later she ran out the door with more quick waves.
“Hey, no rushing,” Colton said in his cop voice. “Wouldn’t want you getting in an accident.”
“I won’t. Bye!” she said, running back to her car. But not before she took a long hard look at tattoo boy.
Even worse, Aiden turned as she passed and unabashedly checked out her ass.
As a cop Colton was trained to notice things, but he sure wished he hadn’t noticed that.
Chapter 6
Good morning,” Sara said cheerfully, walking into her father’s office bright and early Monday morning. His two longtime employees, Leonore and Glinda, were already there. She could see them through the big glass window that separated the reception area from the waiting room. Opening the door and walking into the back office, she placed a coffee cake on the Formica counter.
Yes, a coffee cake. She’d sucked up her aversion and made one as a gesture to get started on the right foot.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Leonore said, getting up from her workstation, where she had been leafing through a People magazine and drinking from an Eddie Redmayne coffee mug. Leonore looked like the world’s most perfect grandma—plump and pleasant looking, with nearly white hair and boxy glasses that magnified her eyes and always made her look a little surprised. She was also a hardcore knitter and every item on her desk was enclosed in cases of all colors of the rainbow she’d made herself—a cup cosy, a cylindrical holder for pens, a rectangular one for her iPhone.
“Oh, here, I made you something,” she said, thrusting a tiny brightly wrapped square in Sara’s direction.
“Oh, Leonore, you shouldn’t have.” Sara was a little nervous, as the last gift from Leonore had been a winter hat with floppy dog ears on it, a little embarrassing to wear in public. She ripped open the package. It contained a multicolored knit pouch with a long string attached in a big loop. Hmm. Something to wear around your neck for loose change? Breath mints? Emergency tampon?
“It’s a little case for your phone or whatever that you can wear around your neck,” Leonore said. “It’ll be convenient for the office.”
“They’re so handy,” Glinda called from the exam room hallway, holding up a white version that she wore around her own neck, no doubt to match the starched white nursing uniform she wore every single day. “Especially on the days when you don’t have pockets.”
Indeed. “Thank you,” Sara said, walking through the little half door that separated the behind-the-desk area from the rest of the office to give Leonore a hug. She placed the bright knit square around her neck. “I can’t wait to use it.” Come to think of it, she hated wearing a white coat. They made kids cry and always had to be laundered and pressed, even if they did have tons of pockets. So maybe the pouch wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Especially the emergency tampon part. Besides, she was constantly misplacing her pens. Was it scary that she was already thinking of so many uses for this thing?
Glinda approached the reception counter. “Oh, coffee cake! What a treat from our new doctor. Did you make it from scratch? Come have a piece too.” Glinda adjusted her vintage nurse cap over her blonde hair that she’d been teasing into a bouffant since 1960 at least.
Yes, Sara had made it from scratch, because she knew they loved coffee cake. Even though it looked really good, she couldn’t bear to have a bite herself.
Leonore brought over the coffeepot and some ceramic mugs, each of which bore a different drug company’s slogan. “Of course she did, Glinda. Would you expect anything less from our little Sara? We’re so proud of you, sweetie. You’ve come such a long way since we caught you in th
e back studying your father’s anatomy books.”
Sara felt the first blush of the day spreading across her cheekbones. She’d been thirteen, and they’d found her reading one of her dad’s heavy illustrated anatomy atlases—the one about the reproductive system. Well, a girl’s got to learn somehow, right? Those years between her mom’s death and her dad’s marriage to Rachel had been a little short on trusted womanly influence, so she’d filled in the gaps in her knowledge by doing her own research.
Glinda patted her back. “And you’ve come a long way since your marriage mishap last year.”
Here came blush number two. And it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.
“I never liked that Taggart,” Leonore said, cutting a large slice of cake. “He always struck me as hoity-toity, you know why? Whenever I ran into him around town and had my grandkids with me, he never even so much as said hi to them. What kind of father would a man like that make?”
“Seriously,” Glinda agreed, putting her much smaller piece on a paper plate. “Doctor told us you won’t eat cake anymore. Does that include coffee cake too?”
Sara waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s not a problem, really. I mean, it’s not the cake’s fault, right?” She’d never admit it, but it was a problem, and it was all cake. Coffee cake, ice cream cake, any cake in the world.
“I was the one who took your beautiful wedding cake to the homeless shelter,” Leonore said solemnly.
Sara’s stomach churned. It was getting really difficult to keep this smile plastered on her face. Just then the office door opened, and Mr. Humphries, the bank manager, walked in. “Ladies, good morning,” he said, waving through the glass partition and taking a seat in the waiting room. At seven forty-five, he was early for the first appointment of the day, which typically began at eight thirty.
