Halos

by Kristen Heitzmann

  “I’m not offended by you. I just don’t know what to make of you.”

  Alessi spread soft butter into the squares, then drizzled syrup over. Was she so different, so out of step with the rest of the world? She took a bite of crispy waffle, savoring the sweet, buttery maple. The next bite was as good, and the next. Frozen waffles were no comparison, just as canned spaghetti could never really be fairy ambrosia.

  He got up, opened the waffle iron, scooped the next foursome to the plate, then refilled the iron with fresh batter. He brought the steaming waffles to the table, broke them apart with strong yet gentle fingers. She accepted the two he offered. May as well eat up as long as it was free. Again she buttered and drizzled the waffle. The syrup was thinner than the generic brands, and a little tangier, but packed with flavor that filled her tongue with glorious satisfaction. “This syrup is good. I never had the real thing.”

  “We’re in Vermont. Anything else is sacrilegious.”

  She smiled. “Ben said you were a park ranger.”

  He chewed his bite, then described some of the territory he had covered, the routine tours that had turned out more adventurous than he’d expected, the scenery he’d discovered.

  “That’s where you took the pictures in your room?”

  “I took them all over.” He swigged his coffee.

  “If I had a camera, you know what I’d shoot?”

  “What?” He cut his fork down through two waffles together.

  “Animals. Birds. Dogs especially.”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “You’d like Alaska. Lots of wildlife.”

  “Maybe I’ll go there.” She dragged a bite through the syrup on her plate. “When I leave Charity.”

  He frowned. “More coffee?” He noted she had not made much headway. “Cream?” He stood and got the cream from the refrigerator.

  “Thanks.” She creamed her coffee and sipped again. Much better. Her stomach was full, but she lingered over the last of the warm coffee, then wiped her mouth with the napkin. “That was really good.”

  He reached for both plates and carried them to the sink. She picked up their mugs and the miscellaneous flatware and brought them to him. She liked the way he didn’t waste time on small talk. And how honestly he’d answered her questions. They seemed to have skipped a level in communication right from the start.

  He made quick work of washing up, then left the dishes to drain and turned. “About last night …”

  “I’m going to find my car.” If that disappointed him, she was sorry, but the more she thought about it …

  “Not that part.” He toweled his hands dry.

  Her heart rushed. She did not want to discuss the rest. That level of communication was off-limits. “I know you didn’t mean it.” She turned and reached for the jacket on the back of her chair.

  “Alessi …”

  She pulled the sleeve onto her arm. “Forget it. We were both out of our heads.”

  “That doesn’t excuse my—”

  She spun and hurried for the door. “Really. It doesn’t matter.” She was out the door before he could say another word.

  Fourteen

  WELL, YOU HANDLED THAT ONE WELL.” Steve tossed the dish towel aside. Why had he brought it up, anyway? To clear his conscience? By the way, I only kissed you because … because what? He wanted to? No, as she said, they were out of their heads. She was certainly distraught. He’d meant to comfort her. Not that it had. By the way she shot out the door just now, he’d say it had done the opposite.

  It was all crazy. She was a stranger, yet he talked to her more openly than he did anyone else. She’d started it, telling him things like her fears of dying young. Maybe knowing she was leaving made her seem safe. She had no designs on him—that was certain. One kiss had proved that. He felt a twinge. He hadn’t even really kissed her, not the way he’d wanted to.

  Fine. If she wanted the subject closed, it was closed. He put on his coat and went out. He had plenty of work waiting at the store, but he didn’t head that way. Instead, he went to the white house at the corner of Hawkeye and Meadow and found Cooper Roehr in his den, a stub of cigar in his teeth.

  “How’s the hip?”

  “Better than the old one.” The sheriff motioned him to a chair. “Cigar?”

  The air was pungent with cigar, litter box, and body odor. “No thanks. I missed you at church.”

  “Overslept.” Cooper shooed the cat from his lap, and it wended its way to Steve’s legs, arching up to rub as it passed. Cooper straightened. “I know why you’re here.”

  Steve took the offered chair, his nostrils adjusting to the onslaught. “What have you learned?”

  “Not a whole lot. No one saw anything, except Ben, and the snow was coming pretty hard. I think he watched the gal more than the vehicle.”

  Probably. But what did that matter? “The car is gone.”

  “Don’t mean it was stolen.”

  “What, then?”

  “She could have been dumped off.”

  Steve hadn’t considered that. Had Alessi been deserted? Maybe the car wasn’t even hers. Maybe some boyfriend had ditched her and she was making up the stolen car story. She was stranded, needing help and sympathy…. He nodded slowly. “So Ben could have seen the car but not noticed someone else inside.” Easy to do if Alessi was standing out in the snow.

  He imagined the scene. Then she goes into the store and the jerk takes off. Steve caught himself on that thought. Jerk? The word packed too many assumptions, all in Alessi’s favor. Maybe she deserved what happened. Maybe she drove him off—with what? Her niceness? Unless it was all an act. Still, you didn’t just leave someone. With nothing.

  “What about last night?” Steve scratched the cat’s face as it rubbed its gums against his fingers and then leaped into his lap.

  Cooper shifted the cigar to the other side of his teeth. “You see anything? Hear anything—before the alarm?”

  “I saw the tracks.”

  Cooper shrugged. “No law against spinning donuts. Don’t mean it was her car.”

  Steve frowned. “She was pretty worked up.” So much so, he’d almost believed her.

  Cooper drew on the cigar. “She heard a commotion and saw the chance to build up her story some.”

  Could she be that calculating? He knew firsthand it was possible; Barb had written the script. The cat sensed his irritation and paused its purr, looking up into his face.

  Cooper puffed. “Makes more sense than anything else.”

  Cooper wanted to believe that. Everyone in Charity did.

  The cat jumped off Steve’s lap and padded under Cooper’s chair. Cooper rubbed the feline with one stockinged foot. Had he even asked around, questioned anyone? Whom would Steve suspect? Where would he start? “What if it’s true?” He stood up and paced.

  Cooper reached to raise the blinds, then settled back heavily into his chair. “Her story’s sketchy at best. She could be a runaway.”

  “She’s twenty-one.”

  “Got proof?”

  Steve turned. “She can’t prove anything without her purse.”

  Cooper snorted. “Right.”

  Hearing his own doubts echoed should have been confirming. But it left him feeling jangled. Steve stopped and looked out the window.

  “What is she supposed to do?”

  “Far as I’m concerned, Miss Moore—if that’s her name—should call her uncle, or whoever she’s got, and stop casting aspersions on the people of Charity.” Cooper stubbed his cigar out. “I know you have feelings for the girl….”

  Steve spun. “Feelings for her! I only met her yesterday.” Unless he counted the middle of the night before, when he found her in his room.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Obviously word of their “relationship” had reached even Cooper, and it seemed their crazy plan might backfire. “Look, this has nothing to do with me. It’s about Charity, about decency and truth. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

  Cooper shifte
d in his chair. “I’m not taking the word of a stranger that discredits the character of this town.”

  “Not the town, Cooper. Someone in it.”

  “One and the same.”

  Steve shook his head. What was he arguing for? Cooper’s take on it was as rational—or more so—than Alessi’s story. And she wasn’t his concern anyway. He was trying to make amends for overstepping last night. He’d never behaved like that with someone he didn’t even know. Maybe Barb had cracked his restraint, warped his integrity, left him vulnerable to a chemistry with Alessi that he wanted no part of.

  Cooper said, “Send her home.”

  Steve hung his hands at his sides. “She has no home.”

  Cooper blew through his lips. “My eye. She’s all softness and fluff. Probably one of those debbytants out for a fling. She can call her daddy to fetch her, and we’ll all be better off.”

  Maybe. But Steve couldn’t see it. Alessi was anything but used to having things her way. She went overboard not to offend, or even let her preference overrule someone else’s. Unfortunately, that reflected her version of things more strongly than Cooper’s. “Let me know if you learn anything?”

  Cooper nodded, and Steve left the sheriff smacking his lips and cutting a new cigar.

  Alessi figured if she walked the streets she was bound to find her car eventually, and once she knew where it was, the sheriff could not ignore her. As soon as she left the stores of the village behind, she entered a neighborhood. Ben had explained that most of the people in Charity worked in Chambers City, so in spite of the few businesses, there were a sizable number of houses for her to search.

  At first they nestled up close to the heart of town, then they grew scattered, tucked back in the trees. She knew they would soon be few and far between. She didn’t like the idea of snooping around private property, but what choice did she have? She approached and peeked into the small square windows of a garage door.

  “You there. What are you doing?” The man came bustling out of nowhere.

  Alessi held her ground. “I’m looking for my car. A red Mustang. Have you seen it?”

  The man’s face looked like a triple scoop of cherry vanilla, splotchy white and red with cracks and crevices. “Young woman, are you suggesting I stole your car?”

  “Someone was driving it last night. I know it’s here.”

  “No one in Charity would take your car.” He picked up a snow shovel and dug it into the pile on his driveway.

  Alessi had noticed that, while the snow came down fluffy, it packed densely, and after heaving a few shovelfuls, his face was mostly red. She left his driveway and called, “If you see it, would you please call Sheriff Roehr?”

  “You have the wrong idea, missy.”

  Alessi started toward the next house. A large woman was trying to sweep the snow from her porch. Alessi approached. “Need a hand with that?”

  Though sweat glazed her forehead, the woman said, “Nope.”

  “Have you seen a red Mustang? I know it’s here in town, and I’d really like it back.”

  “Haven’t seen your car, dear. You’re looking in the wrong place.” The woman turned her back and swept.

  Tucked well back from the street, the next house had only a dirt driveway and no garage. The only car there was a gray Toyota. This whole neighborhood looked too sweet and respectable to be harboring a car thief. But looks could be deceiving. She went to the next house and the next and peered into the garages. No one accosted her, but there was no Mustang either.

  A woman at the next house seemed sympathetic as she let her shaggy dog back inside, but she only shook her head. “I’m sure it’s not in Charity. No one here would steal.”

  That was a very broad statement, even for a small community. Maybe they were embarrassed such a thing could happen in their nice town. Steve had said things weren’t supposed to be that way in Charity, and that had been her first fatal opinion as well. She had been careless, it was true, and if the car had been taken away down the interstate, she’d blame no one but herself. But it hadn’t.

  A wave of last night’s fury washed over her, and again she recognized her resentment. Someone had intentionally shown her the car. Was it a game like keep away or like a bully holding your hat just out of reach? Well, she had experience with bullies, and she wasn’t going to back down. She had spent too many years giving in to do it now. Another streak of anger surprised her. Fine. She’d work on forgiving after she had the car back.

  Alessi kept searching. If poor Sheriff Roehr couldn’t get around, she’d do his footwork for him. And if people didn’t want to talk about it, she’d use her own eyes and ears. She might not have much, and she sure knew how to do without, but as long as there was one option left to her, she’d take it.

  She had planned to walk the streets until she spotted her car or it got too dark to look, but as she neared the end of a narrow road, she saw Ben with Mary and Cait and Lyn hauling huge tires—no, inner tubes. Ben caught sight of her and waved. She waved back.

  He leaned a moment by Mary’s head, then said, “Hey, Alessi. Why don’t you come sledding with us?”

  Mary gave a shy smile as Alessi approached. The girls’ faces looked rosy and eager. People were swooping down a hill to a lumpy field on sleds and inner tubes, arms waving.

  Ben’s ears were the color of maraschino cherries. “Guess you haven’t gone sledding if you never saw snow before.”

  She shook her head. “It does look like fun, but I’m searching for my car.”

  Ben’s long face sobered. “You won’t find it around here.”

  Alessi squinted up at him. “You know where it is?”

  He rubbed his face. “I wish I did.”

  Alessi sighed. “Someone’s got it, Ben. I saw it last night.”

  “Well, you better leave it to the sheriff.”

  “That’s just it. The sheriff won’t do it.” Alessi planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if he’s senile or stubborn, but he just doesn’t get it.”

  Mary spoke softly. “Why don’t you take a ride.” She held out her tube.

  “Hey,” Ben said. “You both go.” He set both tubes down together.

  Alessi looked down the hill. It did look like fun. “Well, maybe once. Thanks a lot for asking.” She and Mary climbed on and grabbed hands. Ben pushed, and they shot off down the hill, which was steep enough to build plenty of momentum. It was exhilarating. Laughter built up and overflowed as they shot side by side onto the field and twisted to a stop. Alessi leaned back onto the fat, squashy tube and laughed again, the cold seeping into the seat of her pants. “Now I’ve done everything.”

  Mary smiled. “Watch out. Here come the girls.”

  Alessi sat up as Cait and Lyn careened toward them. Lyn spun and bumped backward into her mother’s tube. Cait overshot them both and tumbled out headfirst. They all stood up.

  “Now what?” Alessi looked up at Ben at the top of the hill.

  “Now we walk back up.” Mary scooped up her tube.

  Alessi lifted hers. The girls’ tubes were thinner than the fat ones she and Mary had. They tucked theirs under their arms and hurried up the sidewalk, stumbling and laughing and stomping the snow. Alessi climbed the hill, careful not to get run over or mess up the sledding tracks with footprints. Ben met the little girls halfway down, looped his arms with their tubes, and took their hands.

  She smiled. “Ben sure seems fond of your girls.”

  “He is.”

  “It’s not really my business, but it seems a godly man like that would be just the thing for them. And you.” She looked over at Mary, surprised she’d been so frank, hoping she hadn’t offended the woman.

  Mary looked down at the ground. “I had a godly man before. He pointed out every one of my sins with Scripture to back it.”

  Alessi watched Ben send the girls back down, this time giving them a spin with the push. “From what I’ve seen, I’d say Ben’s more the findyour-own-splinter-first sort.”


  Mary stopped walking and looked at her. “Yes, he is. In three years he’s never criticized me.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  She shuddered. “If he did … I think I’d wither up and die.”

  Alessi hadn’t expected that. “Why?”

  Mary clutched her inner tube tight to her chest. “The last one … He meted out God’s punishment here on earth, so he wouldn’t be accountable for my wrongdoing in eternity.”

  Alessi touched her shoulder. “Love can heal a lot of things.”

  Mary stared a long moment into her face, then turned and looked at Ben. “I was thinking in church today of how unforgiveness chokes out love and how love casts out fear.” She swallowed. “Do you think I have to accept love first, before I can stop being afraid?”

  Alessi smiled at Ben’s pantomime urging them up the hill. “My mom always said if you have a chance at real love, you ought to take it. It’s too rare and precious to miss.”

  Mary let out a quick breath. “I can’t believe you said that. Those were the two words that came to my mind this morning when I looked at Ben in church. Rare and precious.”

  Alessi felt a tingle up her spine. She hadn’t meant to be profound. She’d only spoken from her heart the words Mom had clung to when the loneliness or desperation threatened to overwhelm them. She had refused to regret her choice, even though it had not lasted a lifetime.

  Mary clasped her hand. “Thank you.”

  Alessi smiled. “Sounds like you had it figured out already.”

  “Race me,” Cait said when Alessi reached the top, and then, of course, she had to race Lyn. They spent the next hour sledding down and walking up, Ben taking his turns as well. Sprawled into the tractortire tube, he looked as much like a scarecrow as she’d ever seen. And when the girls piled on either side and the three took one tube down, it warmed Alessi’s heart. They needed him. She was sure of it.

  Tired and hot, in spite of the brisk wind, they trudged to Mary’s small house for hot chocolate and sugar cookies. The table was strewn with tubes of frosting and sprinkles. Alessi sat down with the twins while Mary and Ben mixed up the hot chocolate.