Her Small-Town Sheriff

by Lissa Manley

  It was obvious that he was in major bear denial, and she couldn’t help but think that his decision to back out was a mistake. For him and daughter bear, at least.

  But for herself?

  Well…probably not a bad thing. Though the empathetic streak in her had her feeling a strong need to help him deal with the tragic death of his son—what person with a shred of a heart wouldn’t?—in reality, getting personally involved with the Winterses wasn’t a great idea.

  If she had any kind of sense, she needed to quash her empathy and relegate herself to the friendly woman who owned the place on Main Street with the yummy ice cream and candy.

  Nothing more.

  That role had always suited her fine in the past. No need to change things, no matter how much she might be tempted to.

  Maybe she should get out a big, black permanent marker and write the words BACK AWAY FROM THE HANDSOME SHERIFF AND HIS DAUGHTER on her hand to remind herself to stay uninvolved in Carson and Heidi’s lives. She’d be smarter to focus on her own struggles. Why ask for trouble?

  Sometime after lunch, during a lull of the good-weather-at-the-coast Friday customer rush, she went out front while Tanya went to lunch.

  Just after Tanya left, the bells over the door jingled. Phoebe looked up from smoothing the top of the cookie-dough ice cream, pleased to see her brother, Drew. He was dressed in a tan sport coat and dark blue pants, his tie loose around his neck.

  “Hey, you,” she said, coming out from behind the counter. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  He ran his fingers through his short brown hair. “I was in the neighborhood for a business appointment, so I thought I’d stop by and fill you in on what’s going on with me.”

  She raised a brow. “That sounds interesting.” Drew was in the midst of a bit of a career crisis; the downturn in the economy had been brutal on the real-estate business he and Dad ran together. Things had been tense between the two Sellers men for a long time—since Drew was a teen, actually, and had expressed interest in not taking over Dad’s real-estate firm in favor of a career in firefighting—and the prospect of the family business failing hadn’t helped the stress level between father and son at all. In fact, unfortunately, things had never been worse between her brother and her dad.

  “It is.” He sat on the end stool. “I’ve decided to apply to the Portland Fire Department for a full-time job, and I hope to get my paramedic certification as soon as I get a job.”

  “That’s great,” she said. Drew was a volunteer firefighter in the Moonlight Cove fire department, but his dream had always been to be a full-time paramedic in a larger city. She quirked her lips. “Although, I’m sure Dad doesn’t see it that way.”

  “Yeah, well, that would be an understatement,” he said, rubbing his shadowed jaw. “But it’s time for me to quit trying to please him and do what I’ve wanted to do all along.” This was a familiar theme for Drew, even though he’d never been able to assert himself against Dad enough to actually break free and follow his heart. Maybe the time was right for him to move on.

  “About time,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Any idea when you might be moving?”

  “Not really. They only hire a few times a year. But I’m hoping to get accepted to the academy on the next hiring cycle, which is a month away.”

  “Well, good luck, bro.” Hopefully once Drew settled down into the life he wanted as a firefighter, he’d be more open to love. It was no secret that his college sweetheart had broken his heart when she’d run off with an Italian exchange student. In Phoebe’s opinion, Drew would be a lot happier with a wife and a family. Something more than just a job and a few nights a month socializing at Moonlight Cove Community Church’s singles’ group.

  Funny how she wished for things for him she didn’t expect for herself… .

  Veering away from that enlightening thought, she asked him about his best friend, Seth, who owned The Sports Shack just down Main Street. Rumor had it that since Seth had married Kim Hampton and become a family man, he was expanding the business to Seattle. Speculation also was rife that his younger brother, Curt, was going to come to Moonlight Cove to run the store, while Seth got things rolling in Seattle.

  Drew told her he was pretty sure The Sports Shack would be expanding and that Curt was on board to come to town to help out. And then, with a glance to his watch, Drew said he had to hustle to a meeting with a prospective client.

  Phoebe said goodbye, and after he left, she vowed to keep her mind off Carson. To that end, she busily moved the tables and chairs, noting with a glance outside that it looked as though the whole weekend was shaping up to be busy. Sunshine and relatively warm temperatures always brought out the tourists looking for a day or weekend of sand, surf and windblown fun.

  She stepped back, tapping her chin, studying the triangular setup she’d come up with, noting the angles and overall appeal of the new arrangement of tables with a critical eye.

  Nope. Wasn’t working. She liked it better the old way.

  Just as she started to move everything back, the bells over the door jingled and Heidi walked into the store, bringing the ocean-scented breeze with her. Phoebe glanced at the clock on the wall. Was it that late already?

  Heidi wore a pair of denim capris, tennis shoes and a black zip-up sweatshirt with a hood. She had her long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail, and a hot-pink backpack hung from one shoulder.

  She was a pretty girl, save for the sullen expression she wore, which just made her appear rude instead of the bored and worldly she’d probably been going for. She looked as if she wasn’t any happier to be here than she had been when she’d arrived yesterday, and the day before, and Phoebe had put her to work cleaning the back room to within an inch of its life.

  Phoebe, however, was willing to cut her a break for her attitude and give her some time to come around. After the tragic losses Heidi had suffered, it was no wonder the girl was unhappy and acted it.

  She’d really been put through a mental meat grinder, poor thing. She and her dad really had a lot on their plates. More than one family should have to deal with.

  Sympathy welled, and Phoebe had the urge to run over, pull Heidi close and soothe her pain. But that probably wouldn’t be appreciated or welcomed by this porcupine of a kid. Wonder where she got her quills?

  So instead, Phoebe smiled warmly, determined to set an example and, first and foremost, make Heidi feel comfortable and welcome. “Hey, Heidi. Good to see you.”

  Heidi lifted one narrow shoulder. “Hey.”

  The greeting lacked enthusiasm, but was civil, and was better than the almost silent treatment and eye rolls Heidi had given her the past two days. “Why don’t you put your backpack down behind the counter, and you can help me move the tables and chairs back.”

  Heidi trudged over and dropped her backpack behind the counter, then stood there and gave Phoebe a dispassionate look. “They look fine the way they are,” she stated. “Why are you moving them all over the place?”

  “Actually, I already rearranged, but I like them better the old way.”

  “Really?” Heidi considered the new arrangement. “I think this looks way better.”

  Phoebe frowned. “How so?”

  “Well, this way the aisle leads right in from the door. The flow is better.”

  “Hmm.” Phoebe tilted her head to the side, considering the angled tables and chairs from another perspective. “I hadn’t considered the flow.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Heidi said, walking over to the doorway. “See?” She gestured with her hands. “No one has to walk around a table to get to the counter this way.”

  Heidi was right. But…the tables had been set up the same way for as long as Phoebe could remember. “True. But don’t you think they’re lopsided this way?” Phoebe asked, canting her head to the side.

  “No, they’re actually perfectly balanced with three rows on the right and three rows on the left.” Heidi pointed. “One, two, three. One, two, three.”


  “True, true,” Phoebe replied, then bit her lip. “I don’t know…”

  “What’s the big deal? They’re only tables and chairs.” Heidi scrunched her face. “Why don’t you try it this way and see how it goes? You can always move them back later.”

  Phoebe laughed, the sound somewhere between a squeak and a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. So, we’ll leave them, and I can always change them back tomorrow.” Or tonight after the store closed. Yeah, that made her feel better.

  “Great,” Heidi said.

  Without thought, Phoebe went over and started moving the napkin dispensers on each table so their angles matched those of the tables they sat on.

  “What are you doing?” Heidi asked.

  “Straightening the napkin holders.”

  “Why?”

  “Um…because I like them that way?”

  Heidi’s blue eyes blinked. “You actually think about that kind of stuff?”

  “Well…yeah. I do.” Phoebe continued straightening until all the napkin holders matched. “Customers appreciate a clean, well-organized store.”

  “Sounds freaky to me,” Heidi said. “Has anyone ever actually told you they like the way your napkin-holder things are arranged?”

  “No.”

  Heidi gave her a drop-chinned stare.

  “But I like them in order.”

  “Sounds to me like you hate change,” Heidi said, plopping into one of the chairs. “I had a friend in Seattle who didn’t want anything to be different. She’s been wearing the same brand of jeans forever, since she was, like, eight or something.”

  Phoebe’s palms grew damp and she shook her head. “I’m okay with change.”

  “What kind of shampoo do you use?” Heidi asked out of the blue.

  The unexpected question took Phoebe off guard. “Um…Curly Suds,” she said with a frown.

  “And how long have you been using that shampoo?”

  Phoebe thought, then remembered how she’d begged her mom to buy Curly Suds—Perfect Your Curls with Curly Suds, the commercial had touted—when it had come out when she was about thirteen or fourteen. She’d been in desperate need of curl perfection, having been called Poodle Head by Jimmy Salton in fifth grade.

  She’d been using the shampoo ever since—no more Poodle Head, thank you very much—and she’d actually panicked a few years ago when she’d heard the company was going to stop making the product. Thankfully, that rumor had proven untrue, and a hair disaster of monumental proportions had been averted.

  “Since I was a teenager,” she replied.

  Heidi pointed at her. “See? I told you,” she said, her voice victorious. “You hate change. You’ve probably eaten the same thing for breakfast forever, too, haven’t you?”

  Phoebe swallowed the small, hard lump in her throat, recalling how Justin had been the first one to make her an open-faced peanut butter and banana on an English muffin when they’d met in college. She’d eaten one every day since and made it a point never to run out of the ingredients. “Not forever, actually,” she argued.

  “But for a long time, right?”

  Phoebe nodded. “Right.”

  “Told you.”

  “How did you know?” Phoebe asked.

  Heidi seemed to catch herself before she responded. A shadow moved over her face, and then she said, “I dunno, just a feeling.”

  “Are you sure it’s just a feeling?” Phoebe asked. She could have sworn Heidi had been speaking from personal experience.

  Heidi looked down at the table, then began picking at her thumbnail. “I guess,” she said, her attention focused on her fingernail.

  Heidi’s vague response, and the shadow Phoebe had seen, ratcheted up Phoebe’s curiosity, and she had a ball of compassion building in her chest. She sensed Heidi was holding a lot in, and that didn’t seem healthy for anybody, much less a young girl who’d suffered so many emotional blows. Heidi needed to talk, needed a friend, and as long as the lull in customers continued, now seemed like a good time for Phoebe to offer a shoulder.

  But what about a shoulder, or even a sympathetic ear, for Heidi’s father? Not so much.

  Slowly, Phoebe sat down next to Heidi. “You sound like you knew that I’d eaten the same breakfast because you had personal experience with something like that.”

  Heidi gave Phoebe a wary look, then shrugged. “So?”

  “So, maybe you’d like to talk about it.”

  “With you?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m a good listener, and I’d like to help,” Phoebe said, speaking the truth. How could she turn her back on this girl?

  “You want to help me?” Heidi asked with a scowl.

  “Yes, I would.”

  “Why?” Heidi said, slamming her blond eyebrows together.

  “Why not?”

  Heidi went to work on her thumbnail again. “I shoplifted from you, and I’ve been kinda mean the last few days.” Something akin to shame bloomed on her face. “Why would you want to help me?”

  Phoebe’s heart melted. This was a good kid sitting before her, one who’d lost her way and covered up her pain by acting out. All the more reason to offer to help.

  Phoebe debated finessing her way through her response, and not sharing with Heidi that she knew about her brother and her mom. But she discarded the idea; Heidi needed honesty and understanding, not smoke and mirrors and seemingly false platitudes. She needed to know that Phoebe truly did empathize.

  “Because I know what you’ve been through, honey, and I know how you feel,” Phoebe said quietly.

  Heidi froze. “What do you mean?”

  “I know about your mom and your brother.”

  “You do?” Heidi asked in an agony-tinged whisper.

  Phoebe nodded.

  A long silence. And then fat tears built in Heidi’s eyes. “Who told you?”

  Unease rippled through Phoebe. “Your dad.”

  Heidi pressed her lips together, and she blinked several times. “He promised not to tell anyone.”

  Oh, boy. Why hadn’t Carson warned her? Tactical error all around, despite everyone’s good intentions.

  On the heels of that chagrined thought, another thought rolled sharp wheels through Phoebe’s mind. Did Heidi even know Carson was attending the grief-counseling class?

  Either way, it wasn’t Phoebe’s place to bring it up. That bit of information was strictly between father and daughter.

  Phoebe bit her lip, stalling ever so slightly. She’d need to walk quietly here. “He told me in the strictest confidence,” she said, trying to smooth over her verbal faux pas.

  Heidi’s face tightened, even as fat tears rolled down her pale cheeks. “I can’t believe he told you.”

  She reached out and touched Heidi’s hand. “It’s okay—”

  “No, it’s not,” Heidi said, jumping to her feet. “Nothing is ever going to be okay again.”

  Her words tore at Phoebe. Phoebe knew the feeling where you thought your life was over and would never be the same. “Honey—”

  “Don’t call me honey,” Heidi said on a sob. “I’m not your honey.”

  Phoebe stood, her hands clenched at her sides, connecting with all of the emotions pouring out of Heidi. And also understanding the need to choose her words carefully. Heidi was angry, sad; the wrong tactic could be disastrous.

  God? I need a little guidance here…

  Phoebe hesitated a moment too long, and before she could figure out how to not make things worse, Heidi swiped at her tears and turned and ran for the door, almost crashing into a young mom and dad entering the parlor with a baby in a stroller.

  Somehow, she managed to squeeze around the surprised couple and the huge stroller, and in a blur of blond hair—and another heartrending sob—she was gone.

  Phoebe took a frantic couple of steps in the direction of the door then slammed on the brakes, not wanting to muscle her way around the couple hovering in the doorway, or knock the baby out of the stroller.

  Instead
she drew in a hitched breath and tried to calm down. She could fix this. Plastering on a smile, she looked at the customers, already formulating plans to give them their ice cream for free.

  “Sorry about that. She didn’t see you.” She waved them forward, out of the doorway. “Come on in.”

  They nodded their assent, and entered.

  Thankfully, Tanya walked in behind them, back from lunch. Whew. Just in time. Phoebe would try to catch Heidi before she got too far.

  Still smiling, she said, “Tanya, would you help these nice people, and give them whatever they want on the house?” She infused an unruffled demeanor she didn’t feel into her voice.

  Tanya widened her hazel eyes but didn’t argue or ask for an explanation. “Be happy to.”

  “Great.” She pressed a hand to Tanya’s shoulder, then leaned in and said, “Heidi ran off. I’ll be right back.” Hopefully.

  Her heart pounding, she ran out the door into the May sunshine, shading her eyes with her hand. She cast her gaze right then left, craning her head to see around the tourists on the boardwalk, hoping Heidi had stopped to calm down.

  Nothing. Heidi was nowhere in Phoebe’s immediate view. She’d probably darted down a side street or something. Hopefully she’d headed straight home, which was…where? Moonlight Cove, she presumed, and close enough to walk, since Heidi had told Phoebe she’d walked home after the shoplifting incident.

  Making a quick decision, Phoebe took off toward the police station two short blocks away. By the time she looked up the phone number and called, she could be at Carson’s side.

  As Phoebe hustled along the boardwalk, half running, half walking, regret dug sharp talons into her. She’d handled Heidi all wrong, said things she shouldn’t have. Made Heidi cry, for goodness’ sake! Nice move.

  To make matters worse, she had to deliver the news to Carson that she’d upset his daughter so much the child had run out of the parlor sobbing, and Phoebe had no idea where she’d gone.

  A sharp sense of dread mixed with worry bolted through Phoebe. She picked up the pace, breaking into an outright run, managing to avoid the shoppers on the boardwalk with some fancy footwork and sheer determination to reach Carson as quickly as possible.