by Erin Wright
“I’ll do it!”
The words were flying out of Abby’s mouth before she could stop them. She found herself on her feet, grasping onto the bench in front of her. The judge shot her a puzzled look. “And who are you?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Officer Abby Connelly from Long Valley County,” she said.
“Is this your father?” he asked, jerking his head towards the sheriff. She could practically feel the anger rolling off her father, threatening to set her on fire with the strength of it.
“Yes, Your Honor.” If he doesn’t disown me by sundown, that is.
“Well, I accept your offer. Seventy-five hours of community service, with Officer Connelly as the probation officer, and counseling sessions. Hearing dismissed!” He banged his gavel and just like that, the hearing was over. Abby was surprised by the abruptness of the dismissal, but she quickly gained her bearings and hurried over to Wyatt before her father could drag her outside by the scruff of her neck and pitch her into a snowbank.
Wyatt was discussing something in low tones with his lawyer but at her approach, he looked up and grinned, the relief writ large all over his face.
She grinned back, and the feeling of relief washed over her again. She may’ve just pissed her father off for life, but she didn’t care. She’d done the right thing, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter 15
Wyatt
When Abby came walking toward him, Wyatt couldn’t hide the giant grin threatening to split his face. When the judge had started talking about having him do his community service in Boise, his stomach had dropped to the floor. They’d been lucky today to have clear roads the whole way through. More than a few people died on the trip from Sawyer to Boise because of black ice, avalanches, or treacherous conditions that sent them spinning off the side of the road. Many people in Long Valley owned two or three chest freezers so they could stock up on food to minimize the needed trips to Boise during the winter. He would’ve hated having to make the trip every week for weeks on end.
But now…
Abby grinned back at him, obviously just as happy with the judge’s ruling as he was. He held out his wrists and with a huge grin, she unlocked them, pulling the metal away from his wrists and hooking the handcuffs back on her belt. They shared an unspoken victorious smile, and then they headed back out into the wintry day, the icy wind piercing his skin almost immediately, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could bother him now, not even sub-zero temperatures.
Sheriff Connelly followed along behind them, and Wyatt knew that he was in for a hell of a car ride home. The sheriff was going to be as excited about what happened in the courtroom as he would be to have his home set ablaze, but Wyatt couldn’t exactly find much pity in his soul for him.
He’d tried, once, to tell the sheriff the truth about the rumors that had swirled around town, but the sheriff had brushed him off, and quite frankly, Wyatt wasn’t the kind of person to beg for another’s time twice. If the sheriff didn’t want to listen to him, Wyatt wasn’t about to wrestle him to the ground and force him to.
They got into the car, Wyatt still in the back of course, but this time, without his hands cuffed in front of him. He stared down wonderingly at his hands. Freedom. Sure, he still had his community service to do, and yes, he still had his counseling appointments to go to, but he could take Maggie and he could go home. To his own bed.
Nothing sounded more heavenly at the moment than that.
As they followed the road back out of town and back into the hairpin turns of the canyon between Boise and Sawyer, he started to think about his community service. Sure, Abby was going to be his probation officer, but what was he going to do on his probation?
He couldn’t imagine stamping books in and out at the library, and it wasn’t like he could do a landscaping project for a local organization in the dead of winter. He could shovel snow every week for the Senior Citizen’s Center so they could get people in and out for bingo night, but as soon as he thought of it, he dismissed it. This was Long Valley. They would already have someone to shovel snow; they didn’t need him. He wanted to do something that mattered with his 75 hours.
Which was when he sat back with a huge grin on his face. Of course. Adam Whitaker. That should’ve been his first thought. Adam, or Vet Whitaker, was one of his closer friends, outside of Declan of course. If Wyatt had to choose a person to call a friend who wasn’t also a relative, Adam was it.
He’d started up a therapy camp for children with special needs and foster children. They worked with horses, learning how to saddle, bridle, brush, and love them. Adam had been smart and picked the gentlest horses this side of the Mississippi, so when one of the children got over-exuberant, the horses stood still for it all. The camp was still in its infancy, and he was sure Adam could use his help with it. Here was something that really mattered.
Wyatt settled back in his seat with a big grin on his face. He hadn’t expected to come up with a genius idea so quickly. He just had to ask Adam if he’d be willing to sign off on all of the paperwork, and he’d be set to go.
The smile faded from his face. He was going to have to ask Adam to sign off on all his paperwork. The idea was damn embarrassing. He hated admitting that he was even on probation, let alone having to ask someone like Adam to do his paperwork for him.
With an inward groan, he stared out the window at the passing pine trees. He was being an idiot. While he’d been stuck in jail all those endless weeks, he’d been able to pretend to himself that no one knew about him and what had happened. He was isolated from the Long Valley community, and considering he wasn’t exactly a socialite to begin with, he had been perfectly happy to stick his head in the sand and ignore the outside world.
But the chances of no one outside of Abby and the rest of the county employees knowing what happened that night at the convenience store was about -2.73%.
Everyone knew, and had probably been dining out on the gossip for months now.
Also, if he had to ask someone to sign off on his paperwork, why not make it Adam? At least Adam wouldn’t be sending him judgmental glances through it all, tsking about how Wyatt just couldn’t control his temper.
No, Adam would ignore it all, and just be happy for the extra set of hands. He was as low-key and drama-free as they came.
Which was exactly why they got along so well.
He was just gonna have to learn how to swallow his pride a little, and ask for some help along the way. It might kill him, but he’d do it.
The sheriff was continuing to make as many comments about Abby’s driving on the way back home as he had on the way to Boise. Watching the two of them in action, Wyatt realized that Abby had enough patience for six saints, because if he’d been nitpicked to death by a backseat driver like that, he’d have pulled over and booted the person out of the car, boss or no boss. Father or no father. He just didn’t have the patience for those kinds of shenanigans.
About the fifth time that Sheriff Connelly snapped at her for riding the brake too much, Wyatt found himself grinding his back teeth. He didn’t figure it’d do to get in a fight with an officer of the law just hours after a hearing about getting into a fight with the son of a judge, but this whole ride was surely testing his patience to the max.
He thought back to what his counselor, Rhonda, had told him. “You can’t change what others do, only your reaction to what they do.” Which was the kind of mumbo-jumbo bullshit that he hated to hear, but he still tried to figure out what she’d want him to do under the circumstances. Obviously whacking the sheriff upside the head and telling him to quit being a jackass was off the table.
So was saying anything, even politely. The sheriff wouldn’t take to being told what to do by a lowly citizen of the county.
I can change the conversation topic.
Of course. It seemed obvious once he thought about it, but in his defense, this was the first time he’d attempted something like this. He’d admit this out loud about the same time he gav
e up farming, but there just might be some truth to the idea that he tended to solve his problems with his fists, not his mouth.
“So what news did I miss in the Valley while I was on my vacation?” Wyatt asked through the metal grid separating him from the Connellys up front. “Anyone have a baby or get hitched over Christmas break?”
The sheriff ignored the question, clearly thinking that Wyatt had lost it for wanting to catch up on the local gossip, but Abby was game, and started listing off all of the births, divorces, and marriages of the last couple of months. As they chatted, the sheriff’s shoulders eventually loosened just a little and he even smiled and nodded a bit.
Wyatt couldn’t wait to tell Rhonda about the progress. She’d be thrilled.
They pulled into town just as the sun was setting in the west, darkness settling over the valley abnormally early, just like it did throughout the winter. Because Sawyer was set in a long valley between two parallel rows of mountains marching into the distance, the short winter days were even shorter, as the sun sank behind the tall mountains, blocking the weak light that would’ve otherwise filtered through. Long Valley had almost endless twilights because of the mountain ranges, but Wyatt wouldn’t have it any other way. These mountains told him that he was home. There was no other place in the world as beautiful, he was sure of it.
Finally pulling into a parking spot behind the courthouse, they all got out and stretched, and then shuffled inside. The sheriff disappeared into his office while Abby completed his release paperwork and Wyatt gathered his few possessions from his cell, leaving his hated striped pajamas behind. With a big grin, he walked back up the cell block, Maggie by his side, tail fanning the air as they went. She couldn’t possibly know what was going on, but she could tell when he was happy, and right then, he was just about radiating happiness.
With a nod of farewell to Abby, he stepped out into the weak winter twilight, growing darker by the moment, and then stopped. He had no way home. He hadn’t thought to ask Declan to come pick him up, and after he’d been arrested at the convenience store, Declan had arranged to get his pickup back to his farm. Which was six miles outside of town, and he was in no condition to hoof it. When he’d been arrested seven weeks earlier, it’d been much warmer and he’d arrived with only a light fall jacket on his back.
Maggie, happy to be outside – truly outside – for the first time in weeks, was busy marking every tree and bush and snow pile in sight. She’d filled out since they’d first brought her to his cell; her hip bones weren’t sticking out as far, and her coat was a lot thicker and shinier. Not that she was in any shape to walk six miles in the wintry darkness either.
With a sigh, he decided to head across the street and ask to use their phone at the diner. He didn’t want to go back inside and admit to Abby that he hadn’t considered how he was going to get home; she would think him a true idiot. He’d just fake it and make it home. Somehow.
Just then, the front door of the sheriff’s office opened up and out stepped Abby. “Hey, we forgot to arrange for you to get a ride home,” she said, her breath coming out in puffs. “Let me just swing you out there myself.”
Wyatt’s shoulders immediately relaxed. He hated to admit that she was right, but on the other hand, it wasn’t exactly like he could hide it from her. He realized then that it was futile to even try. He’d been under lock and key for months now. When, exactly, was he supposed to have made a phone call without her or someone else noticing?
He gave a short nod. “Thanks.”
He realized that this was another instance of him having to swallow his pride. Damn, it was starting to get painful, this pride-swallowing thing. The sooner he could stop relying on others, the better.
“Let me grab the keys for the cruiser. Be right back.” She stepped into the sheriff’s office, the light spilling out from the glass door growing brighter as the valley sank into the winter night. Maggie ran over to him, finally having marked every tree and bush and interesting object in sight, some of them twice, and was obviously pleased with herself for her industriousness.
“You’re such a boy sometimes,” he told her with a scratch of her head. She just panted happily, leaning against him as they waited. He knew Maggie had struggled being locked up in a cell day after day with nothing to do – she was a work dog, not a pampered pet. But the other choice had been to send her back to his place without him, and that would’ve just started the whole cycle all over again.
Plus, these last few weeks, having her there in the cell with him…it’d made things just that much more bearable. Between her and Abby…
Abby reappeared, keys in hand. “Ready?” she asked rhetorically, and they headed to the back towards the cruiser.
It was time to go home.
Chapter 16
Abby
It was a little crazy, getting into her police car, and having Wyatt get upfront next to her, like he was just some passenger, some citizen needing a ride somewhere. Nothing, really, had changed from just an hour before on the way home from Boise, but the simple act of having him climb in upfront, with no handcuffs on…
Everything had changed.
She scrambled for something to say as they pulled out of the parking lot, Maggie’s panting breath the only sound in the winter night. “Have you thought about what you want to do for your community service?” she asked, heading out towards Wyatt’s place. Her childhood home. She hadn’t been out there since her father had lost it to the bank, and a small part of her wondered how she’d handle the memories sure to come back.
“Yeah. I have to talk to him, of course, but I’m thinking about Adam Whitaker and that new therapy camp of his. I figure he could use another set of hands to help out, especially a pair that knows something about horses.”
Abby shot him a big smile. “That’s a brilliant idea,” she said. “I should’ve thought about that but it didn’t even cross my mind. I’m sure he’d appreciate the help.”
Wyatt smiled back and the butterflies began swarming in her stomach, all trying to tell her just how sexy he was.
Not that she needed a reminder. Wyatt was damn sexy, and there was no forgetting that fact any time soon.
There was also the simple fact that her father would approve of them dating…never, as a matter of fact. And there was no getting around that.
“Well, come on over to the courthouse and fill out the paperwork after you’ve talked to Adam. We can get you started right away on it so you can wrap this up and move on.”
The headlights of the car cut through the darkness, lighting the way, while the dashboard lights gave a faint green glow to Wyatt’s face, but still, she could see the smile that lit up his face. “That’s going to be a great day,” he agreed.
Today had been a great day, that was for sure. To finally have a judge who listened and saw Wyatt for who he was, warts and all, rather than through the haze of hatred and blame. The judge and his son wanted to blame someone, anyone, for Shelly’s death. Sure, they could blame the drunk driver, but he was from Boise, up in the area on vacation. They didn’t know him.
And from what Abby had heard around town, the judge had never really welcomed Wyatt into the family. He’d thought his little girl was too good for him, and hadn’t tried to hide that fact from Wyatt, Shelly, or anyone else. It must’ve been hard to be a part of that family for years, and even harder when she’d died and the people he should’ve been able to grieve with were the ones who were shunning him and making his life damn miserable.
Yeah, he shouldn’t have sent Richard to the hospital; Abby didn’t think anyone would dispute that, not even Wyatt. But she understood why it’d happened. Out of all of the people in the world to know that you shouldn’t drink and drive, Richard should be it. Thank heavens his Jeep was that awful orange camo color. Everyone knew to dive for cover when he came tearing down the road.
Just then, her childhood home came into view and she switched off the engine with a grin. “You painted the house green,” she said wi
th surprise in her voice. Growing up, it’d been stark white. Now a light sage color, she was surprised by how much it changed the look of the house. She could just spot her old bedroom window through the wintry darkness.
“Yeah, Shelly wanted to give it some color,” Wyatt said with a shrug. It was obvious, and not surprising, that Wyatt didn’t seem to care much about decorating choices. “Thanks for the ride home. Much appreciated.” He swung out of the car and opened up the backdoor. “C’mon girl, let’s go home,” he said, as Maggie streaked out past him and began zigzagging through the dark, reacquainting herself with every rock, snow drift, and tree in the yard. Her tail was going a million miles a minute, and Abby figured that no dog in the history of the world was as happy as Maggie was just then.
With a wave, she turned and headed back down the long, rutted driveway that connected to the county road. The driveway was clear of snow, which meant that Jorge must’ve been keeping up on the job while Wyatt was in jail. Hopefully he kept up on other chores, too, and Wyatt’s farm hadn’t fallen into too much disrepair.
It was only a little after five when Abby pulled back onto the smooth blacktop of the county road, but it felt like midnight. It’d been a day. A really wonderful day, but a long day nonetheless.
It was time to go home, take a long bath, and relax. And time to start forgetting about Wyatt Miller and his brilliant blue eyes.
She could start right then.
Chapter 17
Wyatt
He walked into the dark house, not bothering to unlock the front door – he hadn’t locked it before he’d left that day for the store, and sure enough, no one else had bothered to come along and lock it for him while he’d been in jail.
