Fearless Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 2)

by Kelly Collins

  “That’s so sweet.” The distance in her voice bothered me. It was as if we were suddenly strangers instead of friends, and potentially more, discussing this life-changing event.

  “Yeah, Kandra sees you as family. We all do.” Everyone welcomed Miranda into the family with open arms. That’s how we’d always been. Anyone important to me was important to all of them.

  “Thank you.” Her voice sounded choked, and I wondered if I’d done or said something wrong.

  “We’re at Cypress. Room 206.” I felt like I was desperately clutching at straws trying to get her to come, but something in me whispered that she wouldn’t. I didn’t understand why, but I’d respect her decision, regardless.

  “Thank you for the invite. I appreciate it.” An odd note infiltrated her voice, something I couldn’t identify, but it bothered me.

  I didn’t know what to say. “I’m not sure exactly what the visiting hours are.” I wanted to kick myself for being so clumsy.

  “I don’t think I’m going to come there, but the offer touches me.” Her upbeat tone hid something darker, something I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “Okay, no worries. I just wanted you to know you’re welcome to visit and meet the little cutie. I still can’t believe I’m an uncle. We’re going to have so much fun.” My smile widened as I thought about all the ways I could spoil my nephew. That was the point, right? Spoil him and send him home?

  “He’s lucky to have you. Anyway, I have to go.” Her odd inflection didn’t ease up, and the line went dead in my ear.

  Confused, I stared at the phone in my hand.

  Chapter Nine

  Miranda

  I knew I’d hung up too abruptly. I had no doubt that Bayden would call me back and ask what was going on. I’d have to ignore the call because there was no way I could explain myself. There was no way I could tell him the truth about my sister or my past. I couldn’t tell him or anyone else.

  I shoved my phone in my pocket, hating that my hands were shaking. Grabbing the steering wheel, I gripped it until the seams of the leather wrapping squeaked in protest. Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly, then took another, and another.

  And the world whirled and tilted.

  Forcing myself to breathe normally, I stared at the street, struggling to calm myself down. A few people walked by, including Norman and Ethel. They smiled and waved, and I nodded and waved right back. I could only hope they didn’t notice my distress, though I thought the tinted windows would keep my secret safe.

  I was happy for the Lockhart family. I knew how excited Kandra and Noah were to be having a baby. I loved that Bayden was proud to be an uncle. I had no doubts he’d be a great uncle too. The child would know love, unconditional care, and a stable support system that would allow him to thrive. The little one would have everything he needed for a solid start in life, and I knew he could accomplish anything he set out to with that kind of force behind them.

  But it also meant whatever feelings existed between Bayden and me were going to be more difficult, if not downright impossible. I didn’t want to be an aunt. I wanted nothing to do with a baby. I wanted nothing to do with children in general. And he’d made it clear today that he didn’t share my views on that point. Where did that leave us?

  He probably wanted kids. If nothing else, he wanted to be an uncle. I didn’t even want to be an aunt, let alone a mother. It was one of those deal-breakers that ruined relationships. I couldn’t ask him not to have kids or see his nephew while I was around. I wouldn’t make him choose between us. That would make me a monster, but forcing myself to be around kids would be torture.

  Tears stung my eyes as my knuckles went white, and the feeling left my fingers. I’d known this was coming, but I guess I hoped he’d be indifferent to kids or that maybe I could warm up to the idea. The genuine panic gnawing at my guts told me neither outcome was possible. Twin tears rolled down my cheeks.

  I wasn’t the nurturing or mothering type. I didn’t have the skills, ability, or drive to want to be around children at all. I knew this meant I was going to lose Bayden, and that thought clamped down on my heart like a vise. This was the final straw; the beginning of the end of our relationship, and I wouldn’t even be able to explain why: why I’m broken, why I am no good for him, why he should be with someone who knows how to love and accept love.

  Memories surged forward, refusing to be ignored. I closed my eyes, hoping for darkness, but instead, I saw her face—my sister’s beautiful face. Pain roared through me, blazing like white-hot fire, igniting every inch of my skin and filling my lungs with brimstone as I inhaled.

  I turned over the engine and headed home. My shift was over, and I needed to escape everything. I’d shower up and head to Roy’s. It seemed like a good night for a few drinks.

  Roy brought me a beer and hesitated as if he had something to say.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’d also like an order of garlic knots if you’re cooking,” I said with a grateful smile. I knew I needed something solid in my stomach, or I’d be asking someone to drive me home.

  “Coming right up. Anything else?” His kind eyes searched my face, and I shook my head.

  “That’s perfect, thank you.” Struggling to keep my tone upbeat, I settled into my seat. He walked off, and I let my shoulders droop. My life was a crumbling mess. I could run from my past, but life had repeatedly proven that the past would only follow me. No matter how far I went, and no matter how I tried to atone for my mistakes, nothing would fix things.

  Helpless, I picked up my beer with a tired smile and took a sip. I reminded myself to go easy on it until the bread hit the table. I didn’t want to wind up drunk. An empty stomach plus beer was a recipe for disaster.

  The door opened, and instantly, the mood of the room changed. An electric charge filled the air, and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. I glanced up and locked eyes with Benji as people in the bar murmured.

  Roy stepped out and gestured for Benji to leave. “You’re not welcome here.”

  Benji pointed to me. “I need to talk to the sheriff.”

  “She’s off duty. Leave her alone.”

  I stood up and gestured it’s okay at Roy, who relaxed. “I can step outside to talk with him.” I moved toward Benji, but Roy was quick to speak up.

  “I’d rather you talk to him in here, so we can keep an eye on things.” Roy’s distaste and mistrust of Benji were evident.

  “It’s up to you.” I glanced at Roy, who signaled for Benji to come inside. I sat back down amidst the murmurs. “This better be important.” If Benji tried to stir things up or use me in some game he was playing, I didn’t have the energy to put up with him. “Roy has every right not to want you here.”

  “Are you ready to talk to me, yet?”

  I snorted. This routine was getting old. “Why would I do that? After what you did to Kandra, you think I’m going to talk to you?”

  He sighed and sat next to me. “Look, I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

  “Which time?” He’d been out of line plenty of times, and I was curious about which time he was referring.

  “All of them. I shouldn’t have messed with Kandra. I knew Norman and Ethel weren’t in the wrong, but all of this is wearing on me, you know? Everyone hates me.” He gestured around the bar, and I held back the urge to chuckle and say something like actions have consequences. I knew that kind of response wouldn’t help, so I kept it to myself.

  “Okay, let’s say you’re sorry. If I refuse to talk to you, are you going to dig for dirt on me too? I think I cheated on a test in third grade. Want to tell everyone about that?” I didn’t feel bad for him. I’d do my job and keep him safe, but I wasn’t his friend.

  Roy put garlic knots in front of me, and I thanked him. Tearing one of the buttery bread bites off the bunch, I dipped it in the homemade marinara sauce and popped it into my mouth. The bread’s hot perfection was heavenly, and the bitter bite
of garlic and creamy butter hit the spot after my hard day.

  “Look,” Benji said, before pressing his lips into a thin line.

  I glanced at him curiously. The Benji I knew would never hold back or shut up if he had something to say.

  His shoulders drooped, and his head sagged.

  “I admit it. I screwed up.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It was too little, too late. If he meant it, why had he been doubling down on all his bullshit since he ran the piece? Why not issue a retraction and apology if he believed he’d done something wrong? “Everybody makes mistakes.”

  I guessed giving credit where credit was due was important. He was admitting he’d screwed up.

  I took a sip of my beer.

  “Yeah, but this was a big mistake. I don’t really have friends. I saw Kandra slipping away forever, and I did something stupid, and now I’m being punished for it. I don’t know how to fix it.” A vulnerable note entered his voice, and I sat up and took notice.

  I needed to put aside my own opinions and thoughts of him. He was asking for help, even if he didn’t realize it. I could hear it, and I needed to treat him with the same respect and care I’d treat anyone else in a difficult situation.

  “Have you considered a public apology? Maybe a retraction on the article?” I took another bite of garlic bread and glanced at him. He’d put his head down on the table and stared forward like a sad puppy into the distance.

  “I thought about it, but would anyone listen? Would anyone believe me?” He sounded lost and broken.

  “Even if no one believes you, would you feel better if you did the right thing?” I took a sip of my beer, and he lifted his head to study my face for a second.

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” His tone shifted as if his whole perspective was changing. I wouldn’t hold my breath, but I hoped he was taking this to heart.

  “I’m going to tell you this, and if you use it for evil, I’ll never trust you again,” I spoke slowly and clearly. “Their son was born today. I think if you issued an apology and a beautiful birth announcement congratulating them, you might earn back some credibility. Before you do, I’d make sure you mean what you say and that you nail this. Otherwise, it’ll come across poorly. If you use this against me, we’ll have problems, okay?”

  He nodded. “Thank you for talking to me.” He didn’t say it, and he didn’t need to add that no one else would speak to him. He turned to the bar as he rose. “Thank you, Roy.” He nodded at Roy, who glared at him until he left the bar.

  “You okay?” Roy asked.

  “I’m okay, Roy. Thank you for being patient.”

  He nodded, and I continued eating my bread and drinking my beer. As I did, my mind shifted to those unwanted places, and an overwhelming sense of dread filled me once more. I could help other people with their problems, but I would slowly drown in mine.

  “I hope he didn’t ruin your night.” Gypsy moved to my table and sat next to me, a smile on her face as the sage’s earthy smell chased her over.

  I offered a smile I didn’t feel. “Oh, no, Benji doesn’t have that kind of power in my life.”

  “Good. How is Bayden?”

  I gulped my beer.

  The people in this town didn’t quit, did they?

  Chapter Ten

  Bayden

  I glanced at my phone again. Miranda hadn’t been responding to texts or calls, and I was going nuts. I’d given her the rest of yesterday in peace. I knew something was wrong because she never hung up that quickly.

  I assumed she needed space. I didn’t want to crowd her or stress her out, but now it was Wednesday, and she still wasn’t responding. I paced back and forth. Last time I’d showed up at her place, bad things happened. I was hesitant to do that again.

  I lifted my phone and called her number. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Then the call went to voicemail. I hung up and continued pacing.

  “Damn it.” I couldn’t handle not knowing if she’d made it home safe from work the previous day or not knowing that she was okay. She’d sounded so off on the phone yesterday.

  Grabbing my keys off the counter, I headed to my truck. I couldn’t deal with this overwhelming sense of fear and dread that something might have happened to her. All I knew was that if I didn’t find out how she was doing, I would lose my mind.

  There wasn’t much crime in our little town, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t wind up hurt. Accidents happened. And given that she was typically responsive to my calls and messages, this was stressing me the hell out.

  I climbed into my truck and was on the road in two minutes. The drive was plagued with thoughts of what might have happened to her. A car accident? A slip in the shower? I knew how tired she could be after those double shifts, and since I didn’t know her exact schedule, I had no way of knowing what days she was working them.

  Maybe I was being stupid and overthinking or overreacting, but something didn’t feel right. My gut told me I needed to worry about her, and I would trust that feeling.

  I pulled in front of her place and killed the engine in her driveway. Trying to keep calm, I hurried up to her front door and knocked.

  No answer.

  I knocked again, making a plan for if she didn’t answer. I could check the garage for the Tahoe. If she was home, I could check doors and windows to see if anything was unlocked. I’d find a way to get to her and make sure she was safe. I’d deal with whatever consequences came with my actions when I knew for sure she was okay.

  There was no answer, and I backed up a step and studied the house, looking for any sign of activity. I made it off the steps to check the garage when the door opened.

  I turned to face her, stunned by her appearance. Dark shadows under her eyes reminded me of bruises. Her look of confusion bothered me, and her tousled hair led me to believe I’d woken her up. It was noon.

  She grabbed my collar and tugged at me. “Are you okay?”

  Without responding, she stepped back into her house, pulling me along.

  “It worried me that you weren’t answering my texts or calls. And after how our conversation ended yesterday…” I didn’t know what else to say as she pulled me inside and closed the door behind me. She hadn’t said a single word, but she locked the three deadbolts on the door before gripping the fabric of my shirt again.

  “Are you okay, Miranda?” Something didn’t feel right. The quiet was unlike her. The glossy look in her eyes reminded me of something I couldn’t quite place. “Miranda?”

  She continued tugging me, and I went with her, powerless to stop the momentum. What the hell is going on?

  I thought coming to see her would ease some of my worries, but this was only making me more concerned. “Miranda?”

  She stopped pulling me when we reached her living room. Cool tones decorated the comfortable space. I only knew that because of the dozens of times we had to deal with designers. Miranda’s color palette was distinctly cool with the gray couch, charcoal-colored wood flooring, and deep gray accent wall. If not for the large open window that let in the light, it would be like a cave. I noticed something strange about the window; it was nailed shut.

  The three deadbolts on the door, combined with her odd behavior, proved something wasn’t right.

  She pulled me back toward the couch, and I went with her, worried and confused about what was happening. She still hadn’t said a word, and the look in her eyes was almost … vacant. Her place held a hint of her perfume and coffee, a familiar combination that reminded me of home.

  It was the first time I’d been inside her house, and while it was comfortable and appealing, something was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  She pulled me back, back, back, lowering herself onto the couch and bringing me down. Her lips met mine, and her arms wound around my shoulders.

  Stunned, I froze as her tongue slipped past my lips.

  Everything in me wanted to respond. Memories of our night together and our ki
sses filled me. Heat blazed through every inch of my body, but this wasn’t the Miranda I knew. Although this was a side of Miranda I was eager to meet.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  That was all the permission I needed. Miranda’s legs parted for me, and I pressed down between her thighs and kissed her. Tangling my fingers in her hair, my lips continued to caress hers to the point she was gasping for air. I lifted some of my weight and pressure off her in case I was too heavy, and I growled a little as I deepened the kiss even more. My mind was no longer in charge, and my animalistic instincts seemed to take over.

  My whole body demanded more, but I knew I had to keep it in check. Miranda was so delicious, willing, open, and sweet, but there was still a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Her kiss was different—almost lazy. It was as if she wasn’t genuinely taking part. Though she started the kiss, it seemed more like I was leading now, and she was surrendering. There was no fire inside her. The lack of spark I’d expect from a woman as strong as Miranda killed the lust growing within me.

  I pulled back and sat beside her. She froze, legs spread, her short shorts clinging to her skin, and the tank top clearly showing she was wearing nothing under it. So I wouldn’t stare, I glanced away.

  “Are you okay?” I looked at her again, this time keeping my eyes on her face.

  She blinked, and some cloudiness seemed to clear. She sat up, pulling her legs to her chest and winding her arms around them as she shook her head as if to clear it further.

  “You kissed me,” I said, a smile on my lips. I was trying to bring some lighthearted fun into the moment. I wanted to put her at ease and tried to peel away the tension clinging to the situation.

  Her fingers pressed to her lips as if she could still feel mine on hers. The last of the cobwebs seemed to clear, and she sat up. She glanced down at what she was wearing, then stood.