Chance was frustrated with himself. It didn’t matter what he’d felt all those years ago. This was now, and she still wasn’t the right woman for him. He was clear on that, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he saw her in her kitchen last night. It was the same way he’d felt since the beginning. But those feelings for Sadie had been the cause of everything that led to his brother’s death—so why couldn’t he stamp them out?
The door to the drugstore opened, and Randy Ellison came out onto the sidewalk. He wore a winter jacket open in the front, and his hands were plunged into the pockets. He nodded at Chance, his breath coming out in a cloud in the cold air, and then the door burst open again and Bob Litton hollered, “Stop him! Thief!”
Chance didn’t have to do any stopping, because Randy turned back, rage written all over his face.
“What are you talking about?” Randy demanded. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Two chocolate bars,” Bob snapped. “Check his pockets.”
“I put them back!” Randy took a step back. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Two chocolate bars,” Bob repeated, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at the teenager. Vern stopped his shoveling and stood watching the scene with a conflicted expression. Chance sighed. Randy and his brother Burke had been caught shoplifting in the past, so it wasn’t unheard of. And Bob didn’t accuse lightly.
“You sure, Bob?” Chance asked.
“I saw him with them, myself,” Bob retorted.
“Randy, I’m going to pat you down, okay?” Chance said. Randy’s answer was a baleful glare, and Chance gestured for him to put out his arms.
“Seriously?” Randy rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Chance patted his pockets, his sides, the front and back of his coat.
“Nothing, Bob,” Chance said with a shake of his head.
“What did I say? I put them back.” Randy’s mouth twisted with distaste, but Chance caught a mist of tears. The boy was embarrassed, and rightfully so.
“Fine.” Bob looked a little embarrassed, too, but he’d been robbed by schoolkids for years, and Randy had been one of the most successful shoplifters. So Chance didn’t exactly blame him this time around.
“Sorry about that, Randy,” Bob said. “But you’ve done it before—”
“I put them back!” Randy’s voice went up, and Bob shook his head and turned back inside. Randy spun around to leave, too.
“Randy, wait,” Chance said.
The teenager turned back, his expression bitter. “What?”
“I’m sorry about that, too,” Chance said. “I had to check.”
“Yeah. I got it.” He took a couple of steps backward. “Just keeping law and order. So I can go now?”
Chance glanced in Vern’s direction and the man quickly turned his attention to shoveling the last of the snow off his stretch of sidewalk.
The kid was embarrassed, and Chance felt a wave of regret. He was pigeonholed already, and that kind of stigma had a way of being a self-fulfilling prophecy.
“Let me buy you a hot chocolate,” Chance said.
“I’m not a ten-year-old,” Randy snapped.
Chance smiled wryly. “Fine. A coffee, then.”
Randy thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
It was the middle of a Friday morning, and rightfully the kid should be in school, but Randy had bigger problems than truancy right now. They walked together to the next shop over, The Daily Grind. It had some of the best hot chocolate Chance had ever tasted, made from whole milk, melted dark chocolate and topped with a dollop of whipped cream. But hey, if the kid wanted a black coffee in order to act older, Chance would let him choke it down.
They went inside and Chance bought them each a coffee and then led the way to a table in the far corner. Randy sat down and stared into his cup morosely.
“So how was the AA meeting?” Chance asked, keeping his voice low.
“I went.”
“I know,” Chance replied. “I checked. How was it? What did you think?”
“I don’t know.” Randy looked up. “Those people seem like they have problems.”
“And you don’t?” Chance asked.
“Not that I have to talk about,” Randy said.
Yeah, that’s what Chance thought, too, last night, and then he’d started talking. It could be both healing and humiliating at once. He knew that feeling.
“But you went, that’s our deal,” Chance said. “Keep going. Every week.”
“I’m not a loser,” Randy said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Contrary to popular opinion around here.”
“Do you think I see you as a loser?” Chance asked.
“You patted me down, didn’t you?”
That was because he’d suspected that he was a thief—maybe not too far off.
“Thing is, Randy, everyone in this town knows you,” Chance said slowly. “They know your mom and your sister. They know the stuff you did as a kid to get into trouble, and they know your recent stuff, too. You’ve got a reputation around here, and you know it.”
Randy was silent.
“I don’t think you’re a loser,” Chance said. “But it’s going to take some convincing for the people in Comfort Creek to see you as something other than a troublemaker.”
“When all I have to do is walk into a store and Bob Litton assumes I’m stealing something—”
“You have stolen from him in the past,” Chance reminded him.
“That was because I needed some cold medicine for my mom,” Randy snapped.
Chance nodded. “I know.” He paused, unsure of how much he wanted to share, but his brother had been filling his memories lately, and maybe some of Chance’s mistakes could help Randy. “When I was your age, my brother and I went to a big party. It was at this girl’s house, and her parents were out of town.”
“You rebel,” Randy muttered.
“Shut up and listen,” Chance retorted. “I was only there to look out for my brother. I had the best of intentions. This girl’s parents were incredibly strict, and the minute she got any freedom, she was acting up. Anyway, the girl’s parents called in the middle of the party, and she said that she only had a couple of friends over. She named me, because her parents thought I was a nice guy, and she passed the phone over. She was silently pleading with me to back up her story, and I didn’t want to get her into trouble. Her parents tended to punish pretty harshly. I thought I was protecting her.”
“So you lied to them,” Randy guessed.
“I did. I said it was just me and my brother and a couple of others and we were watching a movie. They believed me and hung up.”
“And you couldn’t live with the guilt?” Randy asked wryly.
“That girl ended up having a pill slipped into her drink, and she almost died that night. She was in a coma for several days, and there was some brain damage as a result. The point of my story is that we can have the best of intentions, but wrong is still wrong. My brother and I never should have been at that party, and I never should have lied to her parents. There are consequences for stupid choices, regardless of our intentions. And I know that firsthand.”
Randy nodded slowly. “Got it.”
Did he? Because life lessons were best learned by taking advice, not by going through it all the hard way.
“Now, I was sixteen and had a pretty good reputation, but I lost a lot of people’s trust that night at the party. And I had to earn it back. That’s not easy, but it’s possible.”
“So how exactly am I supposed to convince anyone I’m not some little thug?” Randy asked, and while his tone was harsh, Chance could see the pleading in those eyes. Randy actually wanted to know.
“You’ll have to see yourself differently first,” Chance replied. “And that will start with a real honest look inward.”
>
“My name is Randy, and I’m an alcoholic?” he asked bitterly.
“How long since you last drank?” Chance asked.
Randy didn’t answer, and Chance had an idea what that meant.
“Give those AA meetings a chance, Randy,” he said quietly. “You can turn things around. It’ll take some time, but people will start seeing you differently. I can promise you that.”
Randy took another sip of coffee.
“And you’re going to need your high school diploma,” Chance added.
The teenager raised one eyebrow. “So I can be anything I want when I grow up?” His tone was sardonic.
“No.” Chance leveled him with a no-nonsense stare. “That’s just for a basic job. If you want more than a basic job, you’re going to need some training. And no one in this town can chase you down and make that happen. You’ll have to choose it.”
“Yeah, yeah...” Randy muttered.
Chance sighed and stood up. “Thanks for the chat. Let’s do it again.”
“Do we have to?” Randy smiled wryly. The kid wasn’t done with the attitude, apparently, but Sadie had taught this boy in Sunday School, and she saw more in him than anyone else in Comfort Creek did. Randy had one champion who still saw the potential in him.
“You could have taken the hot chocolate, you know,” Chance said with a chuckle. “Unless you really do like that black coffee.”
Color rose in Randy’s cheeks.
“You aren’t starting from scratch here, Randy. I wouldn’t bother taking this time with you if I didn’t think you had potential. And I’m not the only one. Sadie Jenkins thinks you’re a bright kid with a good heart. Maybe start with her—make her proud.”
“Miss Jenkins...” Randy’s insolence melted away. “Yeah, I always liked her.”
Was the key to Randy’s cooperation as simple as the defiant Sadie Jenkins who demanded that he be treated with respect?
“School.” Chance tapped his watch. “Now.”
“I’m going.” Randy smiled, ever so slightly. “See you around, Chief.”
As Chance headed back out of the coffee shop, he glanced at his watch. He had meetings today, and paperwork to get through. He had some sensitivity training to plan for other trainees. But still, Chance’s heart was stuck on the woman he wasn’t supposed to have loved. Looked like Randy might have been stuck on her a little bit, too.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday morning, Sadie sat next to her grandmother in a wooden pew in the Hand of Comfort Christian Church. The late morning sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, dappling the carpet. Sadie dressed warmly this morning in a pair of gray woolen slacks and her cream cashmere sweater, but Nana was from another generation, and she wore a dress to church, no matter the weather. Sadie had offered to drive them, but Nana had refused.
“I like the walk to church,” Nana said. “It reminds me of when you were little.”
Sadie looked over the familiar people in front of her. Truthfully, she’d been scanning for Chance, but she didn’t see him this morning. She did see other people she knew, though.
Lily Ellison—well, Lily Camden now that she was married—sat a couple of rows up. She hadn’t been in church last week, and Sadie hadn’t seen her yet since she’d gotten back. Lily’s husband, Bryce, was next to her, their dark-haired baby asleep on his shoulder. From what Nana had told Sadie, that baby girl had been left on the doorstep of the Comfort Creek police station that summer, and Lily and Bryce had ended up adopting her. Sadie couldn’t help but smile as she looked at that peaceful little face. The baby sighed in her sleep, and Lily looked over at the infant as if by instinct. A lot had changed in the five years Sadie had been away—Lily was a mom, and married to a cop, while her brother, Randy, was out of control...
In the pew ahead of Lily and Bryce, was Lily’s mother, Iris, and the twins, Carson and Chris. It looked like the oldest two boys weren’t there...or at least not sitting with the family. She’d hoped that Randy would at least be at church, but maybe it was a bit much to expect from that age. She wasn’t sure. Across the church, Chance’s parents, Bonnie and Patrick, were seated close to the front, and next to them was her old Sunday school teacher who had long since retired from teaching the kids downstairs.
Before Sadie left town, she had been one of three different youth leaders who pitched in at the church, and she wondered if she would want to volunteer in that capacity again. She’d have to wait until she had settled into her career a little more, but eventually she’d be contributing to her church. She always had. Churches ran best when everyone pitched in.
The service ended and there was the sanctuary-wide rustle as everyone stood to sing the doxology.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him all creatures here below. Praise above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”
Voices mingled into one choir as they sang the familiar, old hymn. Sadie loved the way her own unskilled voice could blend into something so much bigger and more beautiful. As the congregation split off into harmony for the final Amen, the pastor stepped back to the microphone.
“Don’t forget that we’re collecting for the Victims Fund for our local police station this Sunday. The collection box is in the foyer.” The pastor smiled. “May God bless you all. Go in peace.”
Sadie sat down to collect her purse and shot her grandmother a smile. “It’s nice to be back,” she whispered.
Nana reached over and squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”
From her seat two rows up, Lily turned around and shot Sadie a grin. “Hi!”
The people who had been sitting in the row between them moved toward the aisle, clearing a space for the women to talk.
Sadie leaned forward and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Congratulations on everything—the wedding, your baby...”
“Thanks.” Lily blushed, and her husband turned and smiled. Bryce had black hair and blue eyes—a striking combination that only served to make Lily look all the fairer next to him.
“I’d shake hands, but—” Bryce angled his cheek toward the baby. She moved in her sleep and Bryce patted her back. He looked like a devoted dad.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Sadie chuckled. “What’s her name?”
“Emily,” Lily said. “She’s eight months, now. And she’s back to waking up four times a night.”
Lily and Bryce exchanged a wince, and Sadie smiled, but she sensed it was more of an inside joke between the couple. She felt a wave of longing. Lily had it all—the handsome husband, the new baby. She was definitely blessed. But Sadie had given that up, so it wasn’t as if she hadn’t had a chance at a life like Lily’s. She could have stayed and sat in this very pew with her own handsome husband. Who knew—they might have had a baby by now, too. So feeling wistful about Lily’s happiness wasn’t fair on any level. Sadie had had her chance, and while it looked like a beautiful life from the outside, she knew her own wandering tendencies.
“Well, it’s great to see you,” Sadie said, rising to her feet. Nana had already left the pew and Sadie saw the back of her sweater disappear out the doors into the foyer. “I’d better get going.”
Lily seemed occupied with the baby, so Sadie headed down the aisle in the direction Nana had disappeared. She paused at the door to shake the minister’s hand and they exchanged a few pleasantries, so that by the time she got out in the foyer, she was just in time to see her grandmother tear a check out of her checkbook and slip it into the locked box marked Victims Fund. Sadie’s heart sank.
“Nana,” she whispered as she came to her grandmother’s side. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, never mind,” Nana said. “Let’s go find our boots.”
Nana didn’t seem fazed at all by the fact that she didn’t have enough money for her own bills, let alone charitable donations. She led the way to the
coatroom, and Sadie bit her tongue while they got their jackets and changed into their boots once more.
When they finally got outside into the brisk air, Sadie said, “Nana, how much did you give?”
“The amount that I’d already decided upon weeks ago,” Nana said, shooting Sadie a pointed look.
“How much?” Sadie repeated.
“Three hundred dollars.”
Her stomach curdled. What was Nana thinking?
“But the bills—” Sadie protested. “There are enough people to contribute to the Victims Fund without you, Nana. You need to think about yourself a little bit!”
“It’s going to be fine,” Nana said with a shake of her head. “I have some money coming in, and it will cover the bills and this donation, too. I’m not senile, dear. It’s a postdated check.”
They headed back down the sidewalk, plastic grocery bags with their church shoes inside swinging at their sides. It was the kind of Sunday morning that would normally fill Sadie with peace and hope—their breath freezing in the air in front of them and sunlight sparkling on snow—if it weren’t for her worries about her grandmother. She wasn’t senile, she said, but she wasn’t making some very stable choices at the moment. Was this a sign of how things would be from now on? Exactly how closely would Sadie need to be watching Nana’s finances?
“What do you mean, there is some money coming in?” Sadie asked.
“I’m selling the dollhouse.” Nana said it casually enough, and Sadie’s heart clenched.
“You can’t!” she gasped. “Nana, that dollhouse means the world to me.”
“Dear, we can build another one,” her grandmother replied gently. “We’ve been just tweaking that one for years now. It’ll be fun to start fresh. Besides, a fully furnished dollhouse like mine is worth a great deal of money to the right person.”
Yes, so Sadie had heard, but that dollhouse had been an integral part of her own girlhood. She’d helped to decorate those rooms, to find the perfect accents and tiny details... She felt her eyes mist.
“Nana, I’ll pay the bills,” Sadie said. “I’d already decided to do it, but I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want you to argue it.”
The Lawman's Runaway Bride Page 13
