by Linda Turner
"I wouldn't hire someone like that!"
"No," she agreed, "but people want to know what they're going to have to deal with, all the same. They'll settle down once they realize they have nothing to worry about."
Nick hoped so. Because finding good people was going to be hard enough as it was without having them think they were walking into some kind of circus. Liberty Hill was a nice quiet little town in a beautiful part of Colorado, but that was about all it had going for it. As far as the job went, the salary the county could afford to pay was hardly generous and the hours were long. Everyone, including the sheriff, pulled whatever duty was necessary to keep the citizens of the county safe.
Then there was the town itself. For Nick it was home. But he readily admitted that Liberty Hill wouldn't, in all likelihood, appeal to everyone. Anyone used to any kind of city life at all was going to be bored out of their mind. There was no nightlife, just Tiny's Pool Hall and Ed's, no elaborate shopping malls, no museums or cultural centers.
Wondering how he was going to find not one, but two applicants who could accept all that, he was still pacing the outer office when a tall, muscular man walked in and looked around curiously. Obviously a stranger, he glanced past Sheri at her desk to where Nick stood at one of the filing cabinets. Seeing the badge on his khaki shirt, he made an easy guess and said, "Sheriff Kincaid? I'm Lincoln White. I hope I'm not too early for our interview?"
"Not at all," Nick assured him, immediately liking the mix of intelligence and easy confidence in his blue eyes. Crossing to shake hands with him, he motioned for him to precede him into his office. "We can talk in here. I see you didn't have any trouble finding us. How was your flight into Colorado Springs?"
Three hours later, Nick had interviewed not only Lincoln White, but Rick Stanley, the other applicant, as well, and he had to admit, he was impressed with both men. White lived in a small town fifty miles north of Salt Lake City, and Stanley, who'd worked in L.A. for the last year, had grown up in a one-horse town in Texas. Educated, but more interested in the quality of life they could have in a small town than the money they would make in a large city, they had their heads on right and their priorities straight.
They were just the kind of deputies Nick was looking for, but when he finished each man's interview, he thanked them for making the trip to Liberty Hill and promised to make a decision within the week.
"I can't believe you let those men get away," Sheri grumbled, turning on him the second the door shut behind him. "I thought they were just what you were looking for."
"And how would you know that?" Nick asked, giving her an arch look. "I never discussed that with you."
"You didn't have to," she said with an insulted sniff. "I know you, Nick, and you're going to hire deputies every bit as good as the ones you've got or you won't hire them. And those men were good. So what's going on?"
"This isn't something I'm going to rush into," he said stubbornly. "It's too important."
She clearly didn't believe him, and he couldn't say he blamed her. This had nothing to do with not wanting to make a mistake, and they both knew it. As long as he put off hiring any new deputies, he couldn't leave Liberty Hill … or Merry.
* * *
Chapter 6
«^»
"I tell you, Merry, they were perfect! And Nick just let them walk away! Can you believe it? Sheri was stunned. She chewed him out for not snatching them up when he had the chance, but he still didn't call them. I just don't understand it. Everybody knows he wants to leave, so why's he dragging his feet? What's going on?"
"Maybe he's having a midlife crises," Clair Vickers continued before Merry could get a word in edgewise. The owner of the only office supply store in town, Clair did love to talk. Bagging the items Merry had bought for her clinic, she rambled merrily on, quite content to carry the entire conversation by herself. "But he's not that old, is he? He graduated with you and Thomas, didn't he? So that would make him what? Thirty-two? Thirty-three? That seems awfully young to be having a meltdown. Of course, anyone can get stressed out. Why don't you go over to the sheriff's office and see what's going on? You and he have always been close. He'll talk to you."
"Oh, I don't know, Clair," Merry hedged. "We never interfere in each other's business."
"But this affects the whole town," the other woman wisely pointed out. "And if he's stressed to the max, his thinking's going to be screwed up and he's not going to make the soundest decisions—not only for us, but for himself. Just think—he's got a chance to go work for the FBI. The FBI, Merry! That's something you don't get an opportunity to do everyday. And if he's not careful, he's going to blow it. Go talk to him. He needs your help."
She should have said no. She didn't want him to go to Washington. As far as she was concerned, he could put off hiring his replacement for the next ten years, and she'd never say a word. But what kind of friend would that make her if he really wanted to leave and just needed a nudge of encouragement from her?
Guilt nagging at her, she reluctantly gave in. "Oh, all right. I'll see what I can do, but don't blame me if he tells me to mind my own business."
* * *
She found him holed up in his office, scowling at a file that was open on his desk. From where she stood at the doorway, she couldn't see what he was reading, but she wouldn't have been surprised if the file contained the résumés of the two men he'd interviewed the day before. Clair was right, she realized with a twinge of remorse. This couldn't be easy for him. If he got the job with the Bureau, he would be leaving everything that was dear and familiar, and that would be difficult for anyone. Maybe he did need some encouragement.
Straightening her shoulders, she forced a smile and knocked jauntily on the doorjamb. "Hi!" she said with a smile when he looked up. "I heard you had company yesterday. How'd it go?"
Leaning back in his chair, he gave her a mocking look. "I think we both know the answer to that. Every gossip in the county was standing on the square when they drove out of town. People have been talking of nothing else since."
"They're just curious," she said with an easy shrug. "Gossip's died down about me and Thomas, so they need something else to talk about. Looks like you and your deputies are it. So they weren't qualified?"
"I didn't say that."
Puzzled, she frowned. "I don't understand. If they were qualified and had good references, which I assume they did or you wouldn't have interviewed them to begin with, why didn't you hire them? What was the problem?"
For a moment, she didn't think he was going to answer. He hesitated, then shrugged. "Just because they checked out and interviewed well doesn't mean they're right for the job. Neither one of them is from Colorado—"
"Neither is Dean," she reminded him. "He's from Idaho, isn't he?"
"Yes, but Dean's different."
"How?"
Put on the spot, he frowned. "I don't know. He just is, dammit! He's … he's … he's a family man! He goes to church and likes to hunt and fish and watch football on Sundays in the fall."
None of those things had anything to do with a man's ability to do his job, but Merry wisely refrained from pointing that out. "I see," she said, when she didn't see at all.
"And I suppose the men you talked to yesterday didn't like to do those kind of things?"
"I don't know," he said sullenly. "I didn't ask."
It wasn't like Nick to be so nonsensical, and Merry almost laughed. He couldn't be serious, she thought. But one look at his face and any thought she had of laughing died a swift death. She'd never seen him look quite so stressed before.
Concerned, she took a step toward him. "Nick, what's going on? I know you. You'd never leave without making sure the sheriff's department had enough deputies to keep the local citizens safe. So why are you making excuses not to hire these men when they seem perfect for the job? Have you changed your mind about going to Washington? Is that what this is all about?"
He should have shrugged off her questions and come up with a more
plausible excuse, but dammit, she had him cornered and he was tired of hiding his feelings. If she wanted answers, then by God, he'd give them to her!
"And what if I have?" he tossed back at her. "What do you think would keep me here? Or maybe I should say who, dammit! Think about it, Merry. Who could possibly be keeping me in Liberty Hill?"
He practically threw the questions at her like darts and wanted to kick himself for it. Over the years, he must have imagined a thousand times or more how he would tell her that his feelings for her were much stronger than those of a friend. And not once in all those times had he pictured himself taunting her with how he felt. What the devil was wrong with him?
Disgusted with himself, he sighed. "Look, forget I said anything."
But it was too late for that. Caught off guard, Merry just stood there, sure she must have heard wrong. But there was something in his eyes, a frustrated hurt directed solely at her, that set her heart slamming against her ribs and the ground dissolving beneath her feet. Stunned, she shook her head. No. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying. There had to be some kind of mistake. He couldn't mean…
Suddenly afraid of finishing that thought, she backed away from it and him. She couldn't do this, couldn't take it. There'd been nothing but one upheaval after another in her life lately, and it had to stop. She didn't want any more change—especially this kind. Nick was her friend and she did love him—as a friend—nothing more. He had to know that, had to know that that was never going to change.
Because she still loved Thomas. Only a month ago, they'd planned to be married. Her feelings weren't something she could turn on and off like a faucet. She couldn't stop loving him just because he'd hurt and betrayed her. It wasn't that simple.
But even as she stubbornly tried to cling to her love for Thomas, she had to wonder who she was trying to convince—Nick or herself? The answer wasn't nearly as clear as it should have been. And that scared the hell out of her.
Pale and shaken, in desperate need of some time to herself, she took another quick step back, then another. "I—I h-have to get b-back to the clinic," she stuttered, already turning to make a run for it. "I'll talk to you later."
"No, wait!" Nick began, rising to his feet to stop her, but he was too late. She rushed out of the main office like the hounds of hell were after her. Swearing, he stared after her and just barely resisted the urge to throw something. Dammit to hell! He'd known that once she realized that his feelings for her were more than those of a friend, she'd never look at him the same again. And that was exactly what had happened.
All too clearly, he could see her face when she'd finally understood what he was trying to tell her. She'd been so shocked, so uncomfortable, that she hadn't even been able to look him in the eye. And he had no one to blame but himself. If he'd just kept his big mouth shut, nothing would have had to change.
But, no! He'd had to tell her, and too late, he realized what he'd done. He'd forced her to look at him in a different light, and by doing so, stripped away the innocence of their relationship. And dear God, he regretted it. With a few impulsive words, he'd ruined everything and destroyed a friendship he cherished more than anything else on earth. And there was no turning back the clock.
She wouldn't forgive him for this, he silently acknowledged. He knew her too well. Because she would no longer be comfortable in his company, she'd avoid him, withdraw into her work, find someone else to confide in, and in no time at all, she'd be out of his life—without his ever leaving Liberty Hill.
Shaken, he realized that as much as he hadn't been able to tolerate the idea of living anywhere near Merry and Thomas once they married, he found the thought of being in the same town with her and knowing that he couldn't be friends with her even less tolerable. If he couldn't see her, talk to her, have her in his life, even as a friend, there was no longer any reason to stay in Liberty Hill. At least in Washington, he wouldn't have to worry about running into her on the street and being reminded of what he had lost.
His mind made up, he reached for the file on his two applicants, found their phone numbers and picked up the phone. The minute Lincoln White came on the line, he said, "Good afternoon, Linc. This is Nick Kincaid. I've given your application some consideration and think you're just what I've been looking for in a deputy. When do you think you could start?"
* * *
Confused, her thoughts in a whirl and her stomach twisted in knots, Merry drove right past her clinic without even slowing down and headed for the one person she'd always been able to depend on to keep her head when everyone else was losing theirs. Her mother. She was always calm, always in control, always knew what to do. She would help her.
Ten minutes later, she braked to a stop in the circular driveway of the large rambling rock-and-log home that had been in her family for generations. It wasn't the type of house that would ever make the cover of Architectural Digest—over the decades, it had been added onto too many times without regard to maintaining any one particular style—but it was home and she loved it. It was here that the family gathered to celebrate every joy and mourn every sorrow and hold memories dear. And it was here that she and Janey and her brothers came when they were troubled and needed guidance.
Janey still lived there with their mother and had the same room she'd had as a child, but she was at the nursing home, where she worked as a registered nurse, so their mother had the house to herself. Merry only had to follow her nose to find her.
"Mmm. Apple pie," she said with a smile as she stepped into the kitchen and sniffed the air. Sweet with the scent of baking apples and cinnamon, it smelled heavenly. "Please tell me that's not for tonight's church supper."
Up to her elbows in flour as she rolled out pie crust at the kitchen table, Sara McBride chuckled. "Sorry, dear, but I've got to have six ready by five-thirty and I still have two left to make."
"Darn!"
Her blue eyes, so like Merry's, sparkling with amusement, she gave a nod to the counter, where five pies were cooling on trivets. One, larger than the rest, had already been cut into. "I don't know how you kids always know when I'm baking pies—you must have radar or something. Joe and Zeke both dropped in earlier. Luckily, I had a feeling they would and made one just for the family. Get yourself a plate, dear, and sit down and tell me what's troubling you."
Merry would have sworn that her expression was untroubled, but that had never stopped her mother from knowing when something was wrong. She just seemed to have a sixth sense where her children were concerned.
Cutting herself a generous piece of pie, Merry took a seat at the table directly across from where her mother was working. "I need some help, Mom," she said quietly. "Something happened today and I don't know how to deal with it."
"Tell me about it," she said simply.
The words came spilling out then, a jumbled mix of hurt and confusion and fears and tears that demanded release. "I feel like the ground just dropped away beneath my feet," she choked, "and nothing's the way it's supposed to be. I thought I loved Thomas, but I also thought he would always be here for me. And he's not. He ran off without me, and I've just been so lost lately.
"And now Nick…" Emotion squeezed her throat. "I don't know how this happened. I never knew … never realized that he felt … that he wanted…"
Unable to finish, she swallowed thickly and wiped at the tears that trailed down her cheeks. "What do I do, Mom? I just want everything to go back to the way it was before, but I know that's not ever going to happen. And it hurts. I don't understand how all of this happened."
Sara McBride would have given anything if she'd had the magic words that would take away all her daughter's pain, but life, unfortunately, wasn't that easy. "I'm so sorry, dear. I know this is tearing you apart, but we both know this isn't something I can help you with."
The tears that had started to abate welled up again and spilled silently over her lashes. "Oh, God, I was afraid you would say that! Mama, what am I going t
o do?"
Her own eyes flooding, Sara had to smile. Merry hadn't called her Mama since she was a little girl. "You have to decide what you truly want and go after it, honey. If that means you think you're still in love with Thomas and want to find a way to work things out with him, then don't let him get away. Go to Chicago, find him and make him talk to you."
"What if he doesn't want to see me? I think I'd just die of mortification."
"But what if he does and he's afraid to contact you?" she countered. "Do you want to take the chance of losing him forever because you don't want to be embarrassed?"
"No, of course not," she said huskily. "But I can't forget what he did to me. No one has ever hurt me like he did. I think I still love him, but I can't be sure. I'm just so confused right now."
Her appetite nonexistent, she pushed her pie away and looked up at Sara with eyes stark with pain. "This thing with Nick has me totally thrown. I know I must have hurt him by running out of his office the way I did, but I was just so surprised that I didn't know what else to do. I never expected this. I thought we were friends—"
"You are friends, dear. But that doesn't mean your relationship can't grow into something more—if you want it to."
Startled, Merry blinked. "Are you saying I should … that Nick and I should—"
"I'm not saying anything except that you need to follow your heart," Sara said gently. "That's all that matters here—that you take the time to decide what you want. If it's not right for you, it can't be right for Nick or Thomas."
"But I can't have both of them, Mom! Not now. I'm going to lose one of them, and that's what's tearing me apart. How can anyone expect me to make a decision like that?"
She'd already lost one of them, she just didn't realize it yet. And Sarah didn't have the heart to tell her. "Your heart will tell you what to do when the time is right," she assured her. "Listen to that, and you'll be fine."
