“I will.”
He leaned down, planted a soft kiss to her temple and squeezed her hand. “See ya.”
“Yes.”
Chas snorted as Zach crossed the gravel drive to get to his SUV, but he stayed quiet for the rest of the afternoon. Four straight hours of no one harping at her, berating her or mocking her methods.
She owed Zach Harrison something special because it was the first half day of fairly decent behavior her brother had shown in years. And that felt nicer than she’d ever imagined.
She closed the doors later that afternoon, walked through the retail area to see how things were going, and grinned approval to Noreen and Jen behind the counter.
The store was busy, a wonderful thing, but Jen and her sister Ada would be heading back to college in three weeks. Noreen would want to help full-time come fall, but there was no way the elderly woman could handle the rigor of those hours. Which meant they’d be shorthanded.
She stepped out the door and turned toward the house, ready for a shower and a tall iced coffee.
Rainey stood ten feet away, watching her.
Rainey.
Here.
Now.
Piper didn’t know how to react. Her first instinct was to hug her sister, but reality nipped that in a heartbeat.
She’d left her babies. She’d left Lucia, Piper and Berto. She’d disappeared without a trace after they’d stood by her through her trial, conviction and incarceration.
And then she’d walked out on two perfectly beautiful, wonderful children without so much as a goodbye.
“What do you want?” Was that cold, hard tone her voice? Was this her, standing arms crossed, glaring at Rainey?
You bet it was, and Rainey could get herself back to wherever she’d been for three long, silent years and—
“Larraina?” Berto’s joyous and welcoming voice overshadowed Piper’s animosity. “Aqui? Mi carino! Ven aqui, nina bonita!”
Berto engulfed the tall, slim woman in his bearlike embrace, tears streaming, his voice muttering endearments mixed with thankful prayer.
Piper stood there, caught in time, gripped between warring emotions. Before her stood a beautiful woman who’d left without a backward glance. How could she forgive that?
But the joy in Berto’s voice called out Piper’s selfishness. And the girls...Dorrie and Sonya. The girls had their mother back. Hadn’t Piper dreamed of that for years as a child? Wishing, praying, begging God to send her mother back?
He hadn’t and she’d reconciled herself to that eventually.
But the twins were young. Sweet. Trusting. Surely they deserved a second chance at their mother’s love.
“Larraina?”
Lucia’s voice broke through Piper’s internal battle. She turned toward the house and saw Lucia come down the steps. Disbelief colored Lucia’s bland, brown face, but hesitation slowed her trek down the sidewalk.
“Mama.”
“Lucia, see, she has returned and in good health, no?”
Berto’s excitement begged Lucia to ignore the past, forget the years of silence and welcome the prodigal with open arms.
Lucia shushed him with a fierce look. “You have returned as quietly as you left, daughter.”
Rainey met her mother’s gaze and blinked once, slowly.
“You think to come back here after three years of silence and resume your place?”
Rainey stood her ground, letting Lucia speak her piece.
“You have worried me, you have worried Piper, you have tortured your sweet uncle Humberto with your silence, and yet you believe you are welcome here, at this table, where your children have wondered for three long years where their mother has gone?”
“I have come to make amends.” Rainey didn’t back down, she didn’t cower. Piper had to hand it to her: she’d grown up a lot in those three years, because Lucia was a formidable force when angry. And still Rainey didn’t cringe or come undone.
Piper was pretty sure she would have under similar circumstances. She motioned to Lucia. “The twins?”
“Asleep.”
“Good.” Rainey faced her mother. “That will give us time to talk.”
“So now you want to talk?” Lucia raised a hand of dismissal. “After all this time, you show up here and want to talk? Is it that you want to explain why you left here and had us worry so? Why you left your babies, las ninas preciosas? Why I no hear from you for three long years to find out if you breathe, if you be dead? Bah!”
Lucia turned her back on Rainey, a physical dismissal, but Rainey moved around the front of her mother and faced her. “All you have said is true, but there are things you don’t know. Things that would have affected all of us.” She redirected her gaze to Piper and settled it there. “Things that would have put this family in an even greater tailspin.”
“You talk of something, but explain nothing!” Lucia glared, three years of temper rising, but Piper read something in Rainey’s gaze that made her inhale slowly.
“Lucia. We should take this inside. Please.”
Lucia stopped, surprised, and glanced around. A couple of customers had driven in, unnoticed until this moment.
Chagrin darkened the older woman’s face. Empathy for her welled within Piper. Lucia had gone the distance for all of them, repeatedly, and had so little to show for it. The boys dismissed her completely. Rainey had abandoned her. And Berto appeared upset that she was angry at Rainey’s sudden return, as if the previous three years could be swept away, chaff on the wind.
Lucia marched across the drive, up the walk and into the house.
“Come.” Berto looped an arm around his niece’s shoulders, protective and kind, and his warmth shamed Piper. “You come in, you eat, you skin-and-bones girl. But you so beautiful, mi Larraina. I miss you so much!”
Piper followed behind, unsure what to say.
Hadn’t she just dealt with half-a-day’s worth of Chas’s attitude? And now the prodigal had returned just when Piper felt like she was starting a new chapter in her life?
And how to explain the convicted felon adopted sister to law-abiding state trooper Zach?
She swallowed a growl that threatened to overtake her from within. Right now she’d like to do something very physical for long hours, working out the anger and frustration grabbing her from within, but the adult Piper couldn’t go pitch hay at the moment.
She had to listen. Hear things out. Pay attention, open-minded. That seemed like the very last thing she wanted to do.
* * *
Zach drove home, yawning. Two weeks of a daytime schedule put his sleep habits at odds with this evening shift. Three hours of overtime had added to his sleep deprivation. He headed north on Lake Road, made the left onto Watkins Ridge, then noticed lights at Piper’s house.
There were never lights on at this hour. Not in the two months he’d been living around the corner from her. Early morning, yes, when she and Berto got up for milking, but now, when it was an hour past midnight?
That never happened.
Should he check things out? What if she was sick? Or the girls? What if—?
The light blinked out as he considered his options, leaving the house in darkness, but Zach couldn’t dismiss the uneasiness welling within him.
If Piper was hurting, he wanted to help. He’d never felt such a draw to anyone before. He’d dated a lot of women over the years. He’d had a couple of long-term relationships before he moved to Troop A’s area, but none of them compelled him to action like these few weeks spent with Piper McKinney.
Was that ridiculous? Was he asking for trouble, dating someone whose family held no small amount of animosity toward police? And a farmer, besides?
He drove on, hesitant, wishing he had the right to go to her door and check on her, b
ut pretty sure they’d think he was crazy. And he was crazy, he realized as he pulled the SUV into the garage next to his sister’s minivan. Crazy about Piper. The kids and the goat made the whole package that much sweeter.
Check it out or you’ll never sleep tonight.
He growled, parked the SUV, climbed out and was greeted by the anxious bellow of a cow in the McKinneys’ far pasture. The bellow sounded once more, loud and long. This wasn’t an impatient cow, waiting to be milked and tired of standing.
This was a cow in trouble, laboring. A birthing gone bad.
He ran across the yard, hurdled a small bench and landed on Piper’s steps within seconds, then pounded on the door.
A light flashed on above him. Piper looked out, saw him, heard the cow and disappeared. She reappeared on the steps seconds later, pulling on sweats over shorts as she pushed her feet into barn boots.
They took off at a run together. She unhooked the tension wire gate, shut the power down, and then rehooked the gripping arm once Zach stepped through. The cow’s mournful sound pulled them left. “Oh, Strawberry.”
A red cow panted, eyes wide, her face stricken. One glance told Zach she was ready to deliver, but her strains had produced nothing. “Bad turn.”
Piper examined the cow and matched his worried tone. “Should we get your father?”
Zach stripped off his shirt and shook his head. “No time. If she’s been straining a while, we might have already lost the calf. You good to pull if I provide tension?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do this.” He’d helped his father in the past. He knew what needed to be done, and the beautiful red cow wouldn’t appreciate their efforts initially, but if they could save her calf and a costly operation, he was ready to manipulate the situation. Figuratively and literally. “Okay, when she strains, I’ll push. You pull.”
“Gotcha.”
Face down, Piper concentrated her efforts on finding limbs. The first strain produced nothing but sore arms and a frightened cow, but with the next bovine push, Zach felt something give way. “I’ve got movement.”
“The calf?”
“I think so. I...” He cringed in pain as the cow strained to deliver her baby, then smiled. “He’s alive.”
“I’ve got a leg.” The barn light gave them little glow, the cow’s body shadowing their efforts, but in the dark of night, a procedure like this was primarily accomplished by memory and feel.
“And another leg!” Piper’s voice hiked up as the second leg birthed, and before he could step out of the way, a last mighty strain delivered an oversize red calf onto the grass.
“A heifer.”
“And pretty, like her mom,” Zach added as he wiped the baby down with handfuls of dry straw. “But I’d use a different bull next time.”
“I won’t argue that.” Piper stepped back, stared at him, then the cow and her calf, then back at him. “We’re a mess.”
“Nothing some soap and water won’t clean up.” He grinned at her as he rubbed the cow’s head and neck, soothing her. “And that baby’s worth it, Piper.”
“Zach, thank you.” She drew a deep breath, as if in apology and waved a hand toward his house. “I know this isn’t why you moved here. You just wanted a nice country home, out of town, a place near hunting and fishing.”
“Yup.”
“And you got this. Us.” She made a face. “Should I apologize? Because this wasn’t exactly what you bargained for.”
It wasn’t.
He couldn’t argue that.
Maybe he hadn’t realized what he needed when he bought the split-level on Watkins Ridge, but he was pretty sure God didn’t make mistakes. He planted opportunities in front of people.
He wasn’t about to question why God placed him next door to Piper McKinney. They’d only met a few weeks ago, but he felt like he knew her. Or maybe it was because farming was familiar to him. He might not love farming as a career choice...
But he knew the job, the tasks at hand. And spending an hour helping Piper save a calf and a cow felt good. Life-affirming. And sometimes cops needed positive things to help balance the grim realities of their jobs. He didn’t exactly deal with the cream of the crop of humanity.
He nodded toward her house once mother and baby were settled together in the foremost barn. “Your lights were on when I went by. Why were you still up?”
She sighed, scuffed a toe in the dirt, then peered up at him. “Rainey came home today.”
“The twins’ mother?”
“My adopted sister. That’s the one.”
He wanted to reach an arm out. Hug her. But he wasn’t presentable enough to do that, so he held back. “How’d that go?”
“Mixed emotions on multiple fronts.”
“Will she stay?”
Piper’s expression said that was the question of the hour. She shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t know if I should hope she does or doesn’t and that makes me feel like a loser.”
“Give it time.” He studied her, wishing he could be of more comfort. Crazy, convoluted families were the norm in his line of work, but seeing Piper’s family stress, he realized it didn’t take all that much to tip a family over the edge.
Right now, he wanted to help Piper and her family back to secure footing. Few people got to do what they loved in this life, so if part of his job on earth was to help Piper establish McKinney Farm, he’d do it.
But he knew two things: farming was more than a career; it was a lifestyle. And he’d spent a long time thinking it was a lifestyle not meant for him.
Birthing the calf made him feel helpful. And Piper’s appreciation boosted his male ego.
But how often had he prayed for his father to show up at a game? Stop by the school and watch Zach play soccer? Run track?
Marty’s appearances had been infrequent. Zach wanted more than that when he settled down. He backed away from the steps and watched as Piper tiptoed inside, and when he got home he paused to check the puppies along the side of the garage.
Sweet. Sleeping. Peaceful in their little hut.
He watched quietly, not wanting to wake them. Awake, they’d long to eat and would settle for nothing else. Right now, they all could use some sleep. Including him.
But sleep eluded him for a long time. Thoughts swirled through his brain. Julia’s failing marriage. Rainey’s return. The twins’ future. Piper’s farming predicament. The town’s pressure.
He’d longed for normal, all his life. A greeting-card family, gathered together.
How had fate immersed him in a real-life reality show?
* * *
Piper delivered her letter to the editor less than two hours before the Weekly’s deadline the following day. The middle-aged editor read the letter while Piper was there, then met Piper’s gaze. “You’ll make waves with this.”
“Yes.” Piper met the older woman’s look and agreed. “I have no other choice, Aggie.”
“I’m not going to edit a thing,” the editor went on. “Generally I do, but I think in this case, folks will be touched by your candor. And just so you know? I’m on your side.” She stared out the one small window overlooking the lake, then sighed. “I’ve seen a lot of things happen here in the name of progress, and I’ve got no problem with it most times, but this?” She set the letter down next to her laptop. “This isn’t what we want for Kirkwood Lake. Tossing out the old to make way for the new. Once you step too far in that direction, there’s no going back.”
“I agree.” Piper hesitated, wanting to say more to her mother’s old friend, to ask if she ever heard from her, if she was all right? But in the end she simply shrugged. “Thanks, Aggie.”
“You’re welcome. And I hope folks show up in droves to that meeting. And that the supervisor’s dream of a planned commun
ity gets tanked. Your family has taken enough direct hits, Piper.” Aggie’s eyes touched on what Piper couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask. “It’s time for you to get some good breaks. Past time.”
Piper couldn’t disagree, but as she headed home she wondered anew at the timing of God’s plan. Right now she was muddled, and the glass mirror seemed unusually fogged.
Rainey’s sudden reappearance tipped her world. She’d brought trouble multiple times as a teen. Had she matured? Would things be different? Or was Piper about to take another roller-coaster ride thanks to her sister?
She pulled into the drive, parked, hooked up the manure spreader and spent the afternoon hauling nutrient-rich droppings to the fields. It was mindless work, a steady back-and-forth, necessary and mundane.
And a part of her hoped Rainey hated the smell.
Her cell phone vibrated midafternoon. Zach. Probably wondering why she’d gone missing for the day.
He was working the evening shift again, on the job midafternoon, and home after she’d be asleep for the night. And maybe that was just as well, because when he was around she couldn’t imagine him not being around.
But right now she was surrounded by nothing but trouble, and no sane man wanted to immerse himself in that. Better she back away from those long, warm gazes. The quirk of humor. Strong, gentle hands adept at welcoming new calves and small children to his side.
No cop needed excess baggage. Inattentiveness could cost lives in crucial situations. She knew that. And it was her responsibility to draw the line in the sand. Back away from the temptation of caring for Zach. Loving him. Right now there was too much outside of her control. It wasn’t Zach’s fault. Or hers. Sometimes things just plain got in the way. She’d lived it enough to recognize the scenario and back off.
But she hated every minute of it.
* * *
A fire call near Interstate 86 in Clearwater kept Zach tied up most of the night. Smoke clogged the highway, making travel dangerous, and people were not pleased when he directed them to take the meandering two-lane around Kirkwood Lake. Allowing speedy traffic across smoke-filled highways wasn’t going to happen on his watch.
Falling for the Lawman Page 14
