Her Small-Town Sheriff

by Lissa Manley

  She squeezed his hand. “You have got to find a way to forgive yourself for your son’s death, Carson. If you don’t, the guilt will eat you up and take over your life.”

  Again, her thoughts made a lot of sense. His guilt had taken over, and he saw now he never should have allowed it.

  Phoebe spoke again. “So you understand why I have to end this?”

  He backtracked on their conversation, recalling his point. “I get it, trust me. But I still think you’re jumping to a conclusion that isn’t valid.”

  “You’re a cop—”

  “And you’re using my job as an excuse.”

  She drew her chin in sharply. “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are, and here’s why—”

  “Why you think why,” she shot back, cutting him off again, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly gearing up for a fight.

  Fine. He’d enter the bout. A lot was at stake—more than he’d realized—and he wouldn’t just bow out without fighting a good battle. No way. “Granted. But I happen to think my statement is true. You’re scared to love me, so you’re using my job as an excuse to avoid your feelings.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, her face tight. Expressionless.

  Grabbing on to that, he said, “Look at you. Your face says it all.”

  She stepped away, putting the coffee table between them. “What do you mean?”

  He instinctively followed, stumbling when he automatically put weight on his bum ankle. “Ow!” he exclaimed, hopping onto his good leg before he leaned on his crutches, taking weight off his bad ankle. “So, as I was saying, your face is like a mask, hiding everything you’re feeling.”

  She looked stricken, then recovered. “Well, if it is, it’s certainly not intentional.”

  “That’s even more telling,” he said. “Your subconscious is at work, telling you to cover up to protect yourself.”

  “Okay, fine.” She lifted her chin. “So I’m covering up. The end result is the same. To protect myself, I have to tell you goodbye,” she said, picking up her purse from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder.

  Goodbye. Wow. It sounded so final. So wrong. So not what he wanted. There was no way he could ignore that feeling.

  He maneuvered himself around the coffee table, then used his crutches to take him over so he was standing right in front of her. Her chin fell and she looked away. More hiding.

  He used his finger to force her to look at him. “Tell me to my face goodbye is what you really want.”

  Her mouth worked, and she tried to look away again.

  “Nope,” he said, pressing her chin in his direction. “If you really want to do this, you’re going to have to look at me and say it.”

  Complying with the push of his hand, she turned and looked at him, her blue eyes shimmering with more tears. “This…goodbye…is what I really want,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

  His gut clenched. “Okay, then. I won’t fight you on this. I can’t force you to stay.” True enough, though it was tempting to lock and bar the doors to keep her here.

  She wiped her eyes, then nodded. “Thank you. Can you please tell Heidi that I’d still like her to help me out at the store?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  She drew in a shaky breath, then visibly hardened her jaw. “I’m truly sorry for this.”

  A nod was all he could give. Anything more and he’d probably break down, at least on the inside. Good thing he was adept at making the outside look impenetrable.

  After a beat of silence, she turned and walked away. Out of his house. Out of his life.

  But never, he feared, out of his heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Are you all right, Phoebe? You don’t look so good.”

  Phoebe looked at Tanya as she set her purse on the counter. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to infuse some super-duper happy fineness into her voice. But she wasn’t fine at all. In fact, she was terrible.

  Saying goodbye to Carson was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Ironic, wasn’t it? She was supposed to be avoiding pain, protecting herself from this kind of heartbreak by shoving Carson away. And yet here she was, feeling as if she’d eviscerated herself with a dull knife.

  “You sure?” Tanya asked with a furrowed brow, coming nearer. “There’s a nasty flu going around…”

  Unless it was the heart flu, that wasn’t what Phoebe suffered from. “I’m just tired,” Phoebe said as she straightened the napkin holders, tucking the stray napkins into their place. A teensy stretch, yes. But the last thing she wanted to do was drag an employee into her romantic problems. And she was tired; she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for quite a while.

  “You want to go home and rest?” Tanya asked. “I can hold down the fort here.”

  Phoebe waved a hand in the air. “Nah, I’m fine. Once I get working, I’ll get a second wind.” And she needed to stay busy to keep her mind off Carson. Guess she’d be working for the rest of her life.

  “You sure?” Tanya asked.

  “Positive.” Phoebe headed to her office as the doorbells sounded and some customers came in, bringing the briny smell of the ocean with them. “I’m going to work back here on accounts payable for a while. Let me know if things get busy and you need help.”

  “Okay.”

  When Phoebe got to her office, she flopped down in her desk chair, recalling the stricken expression on Carson’s face when she’d told him that she had to say goodbye. She’d almost broken down then, especially when he’d talked about his wife walking out, and it had taken all of her mental fortitude to keep from throwing herself into his arms and telling him she’d made a big mistake.

  But she hadn’t made a mistake, she was sure of it. She’d spoken the absolute truth when she’d told Carson about the numbing fear she’d felt when she’d found out about his injury. No matter what, she had to make sure she never set herself up for heartbreak.

  Although it seemed as if her heart was crumbling into itty-bitty pieces right now.

  Right on cue, her eyes started burning. She pinched the bridge of her nose; she would not cry over Carson. She’d survive this, one way or another, with lots of work and backbone and determination. And one day, she’d look back with her calm protected life all arranged and safe and predictable, and she’d know she’d done what she had to minimize emotional trauma. End of story.

  And, hopefully, she’d be happy. But she had her doubts. So be it. Everything had a price.

  She only hoped letting Carson go wouldn’t cost more than she could afford.

  *

  Three days after Phoebe said adios to him, Lily showed up at Carson’s house out of the blue while he was trying to do paperwork with his leg propped up on the couch. The key word being trying. As in, thinking of anything but Phoebe.

  “Hey, cuz,” Lily said, waving, bringing the scent of the windy, rainy day in with her.

  “Don’t you knock?” he said, looking up with an eyebrow raised.

  She dropped her purse on the recliner. “I didn’t want you to have to get up.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He shifted, trying to get comfortable, which was almost impossible with his cast. Thankfully, the doctor had cleared him for a walking boot in a week or so, and then he’d be back at work. At his desk. Doing more boring paperwork until he was healed.

  Better than sitting around here, thinking about Phoebe. Although he doubted a change of scenery would erase her from his thoughts. He feared nothing would do that.

  “So,” Lily said pointedly. “What’s up with you and Phoebe?” Aha. The reason for Lily’s “impromptu” visit.

  “Why do you ask?” he said, trying to stay smooth and nonchalant, in case Lily actually had no idea that Phoebe had essentially dumped him.

  “Because Tanya told me Phoebe has been moping around the ice cream parlor, and that every time Tanya tries to find out what’s wrong, Phoebe shuts the conversation down, claims to
be under the weather and disappears into her office for hours on end.”

  Concern bubbled through him. “Is she sick?” he asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Lovesick, maybe,” Lily shot back, staring him down. “Because of you?”

  Was it possible Phoebe was mourning the death of their relationship, such as it was, as much has he’d been?

  Suddenly, the thought of keeping his sadness hidden as he’d been doing in front of Heidi for days just didn’t seem possible. He felt as if his heart had been replaced by a rock, and the odd combination of pain and emptiness had him blurting, “She called it quits, not the other way around.”

  Lily’s face softened. “Oh, Carson, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he said truthfully. “I think she’s running scared.”

  “Phoebe called it quits?” Heidi cried from the entry into the living room. “When?”

  Carson closed his eyes, chiding himself for not being more careful. He’d been going to tell Heidi about Phoebe and him, but hadn’t found the right time. Now she knew, and he had some explaining to do.

  Lily went over and put a comforting arm around Heidi, then looked at him, her chin down. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Heidi said before he could reply. “He never tells me anything.”

  “I wasn’t sure how to explain,” he said, and the words sounded lame, lame, lame.

  “You never want to talk about this kind of stuff,” Heidi said with a frown. “I think you’re just making an excuse.”

  Her statement hit a bull’s-eye.

  “For the record, I think so, too,” Lily said.

  They stood there staring at him, and he knew if Phoebe was here, she’d be shooting darts at him with her eyes, too.

  Phoebe. If there was one thing he’d learned since he’d met her, it was the value of opening up, talking. Admitting his weaknesses. Letting himself be vulnerable without feeling like a weakling.

  “You’re right,” he shoved out in her honor. “I have been making excuses.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come on over here, honey, and sit down, and I’ll tell you about what happened with Phoebe.”

  Heidi stomped over and plopped down next to him.

  Lily regarded him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not quite sure what’s going on with you and Phoebe, but I can say that if you let that woman walk out on you without a huge fight, you’ve made a big mistake.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” he said. “But she’s pretty stubborn—”

  “And you aren’t?” Lily said.

  He just stared at her.

  “Enough said.” Lily picked up her purse and pointed at him. “We still need to talk, but I’m going to let you two hash this out by yourselves.” She looked at Heidi. “We still on for the movie this weekend?”

  “Yeah,” Heidi said.

  “Okay, I’ll see you guys later.”

  She left, and Carson turned and looked at his daughter. She regarded him, her mouth pressed downward and her eyes shining with what seemed to be an accusatory light.

  Clearly, she thought he’d betrayed her. And in a way he had. He should have leveled with her sooner. Man, he was still bad at this communication stuff.

  “So what happened?” she asked. “Phoebe didn’t say anything to me about this when I was working at the parlor yesterday.”

  “We had a long talk and decided that dating wasn’t the right thing for us right now.” There. Sounded reasonable enough, even though he didn’t necessarily agree with the statement.

  Heidi narrowed her eyes. “You said she called it quits.”

  He gave himself another mental head slap; not much got past this kid. “We decided together,” he amended; no way was he going to lay the blame at Phoebe’s feet. Heidi thought Phoebe could do no wrong, and he wasn’t about to tarnish that notion in his daughter’s eyes.

  Heidi jumped up. “And she left?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her?”

  “How was I supposed to do that? She’s a grown-up, honey.”

  “Did you tell her you love her?”

  His neck burned. “Well…no—”

  “Why not?” Heidi cried. “If you had, she would have stayed.”

  Words stuck in his throat; she was, quite possibly, right. But maybe she was wrong…

  Why didn’t he have a clue, anyway? His feelings were so jumbled, so messed up, he wasn’t sure what he felt.

  Except for a big hole in his heart.

  Fat tears formed in Heidi’s eyes. “I can’t believe you let her leave without telling her the truth.”

  The truth…

  Before he could conjure up a response, Heidi said, “Mom left, and now Phoebe’s gone, and none of it is fair!”

  Her words decimated him. “You’re right, honey, none of this is fair. But your mom and Phoebe are two different people—”

  “But they both left me,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks. “Why did they leave me?”

  “Their leaving had nothing to do with you, Heidi. Nothing at all. So don’t blame yourself for what’s happened.” He was the one at fault in Phoebe’s case. He should have fought harder for her.

  He tried to stand, but his cast hindered him and put him off-balance onto his bad ankle. Pain shot up his leg, and he staggered and then fell back onto the couch.

  Heidi sobbed, then wheeled around at a run.

  “Heidi, wait!” he called, trying to get to his feet again.

  But she didn’t heed his call, and within seconds she’d flown out the front door, leaving it open in her wake.

  And then she was gone, and he was stuck with a bum leg and crutches, not to mention his mixed-up, skewed thinking that had probably cost him the woman he loved. And maybe his daughter, too.

  *

  On the third day after she said goodbye to Carson, Phoebe kept herself hidden in the back room working on supply ordering, feeling out of sorts and in a major funk.

  She rubbed her brow, then put a hand on the aching spot over her heart. Was this how it was going to be, behaving like a hermit in her office, hiding from a life that seemed so much less happy now that Carson wasn’t in it?

  Wow. Depressing prospect for her future, for sure. But necessary to protect herself.

  Feeling as if she had been hollowed out with an ice cream scoop, she booted up her computer, preparing to bury herself in revamping her marketing plan for the next year. Oh, goody. Just what she needed—dry busywork that was already done.

  With a resigned sigh, she reached for the mouse just as the phone rang.

  She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Phoebe, it’s Carson.”

  Her heart bounced. “Hey.”

  “Listen, Heidi heard Lily and I talking and found out about our conversation. She’s pretty upset.”

  Phoebe closed her eyes. “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah. I tried explaining everything to her without going into too many details, but nothing helped.” He drew in an audible breath. “Anyway, she pulled another disappearing trick and took off, and I’m stuck on these stupid crutches and can’t go after her.”

  Alarm nipped at the edges of Phoebe’s control. “Do you know where she went?” Phoebe asked.

  “No idea.”

  Phoebe chewed on her lip, racking her brain. Heidi was upset…she wanted to be alone… .

  Where had Phoebe herself gone when she was feeling like Heidi was? Bingo.

  “I think I know where she went,” she told Carson in a rush.

  “Where?”

  “It’s just a hunch, but I think she went to my special spot on the beach.”

  “Can you go there and check?” he asked, obvious worry reflected in his tone.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks, Phoebe. If you find her, let me know.”

  “I will.” She hung up, and then hustled out of her office to the store area. Tanya was just ringing up a sale, and the customer was dig
ging for change at the bottom of a huge ugly purse.

  Phoebe waited for a few seconds, mentally tapping a foot, then concerned impatience took over. “I’m leaving,” she mouthed to Tanya, pointing toward the door.

  Tanya nodded in acknowledgement.

  Her heart galloping, Phoebe quickly headed out the front door, then turned left and jogged to the nearest beach access two blocks away. She scanned the steel-gray cloudy skies, noting the ever-present breeze was picking up and the temperature was dropping. The scent of the ocean hit her nose, and it smelled clean and crisp, tinged with moisture. Rain was on the way, maybe a summer storm.

  As she hit the sand at a run, one thought pounded through her with the force of a hammer. What would she do if something bad happened to Heidi?

  She would need God’s guidance for sure when she had her answer.

  *

  Carson wore a hole in the living-room carpet with his crutches, a sharp sense of helplessness hitting him from all sides. It figured he’d be laid up at a time like this, hobbled like a prisoner.

  He stopped in front of the picture window, furrowing his brow. More clouds had rolled in, a steady rain now fell and a stiff wind slapped at the branches of the evergreens in the front yard. He hoped Phoebe found Heidi…and soon. No one should be out in this weather, much less an upset twelve-year-old wearing only a light sweatshirt.

  With a snort of frustration, he turned away from the storm brewing at his doorstep. Thank goodness he had Phoebe and her hunch. He trusted her to bring Heidi back safe.

  He trusted Phoebe…

  Feeling suddenly boneless, he lowered himself to the couch, barely getting his crutches out from under his arms fast enough. He sat back as the truth wound its way around his consciousness like a soft ribbon: he trusted Phoebe implicitly, with the most important thing in his life—his daughter.

  What did that tell him?

  He loved Phoebe, that’s what. Loved every single thing about her—her kindness, her compassion, her beautiful smile.

  Worry filtered through him. Without thought, his rigid hands came together in front of him, he bowed his head and a genuine prayer rose from his lips.

  Please, Lord, help Phoebe find Heidi and bring them back to me.