The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor

by Anna J. Stewart

  She turned off the lights and locked up, twisting her key in the front door. A glance up at the sky had her sucking in a cold breath between clenched teeth. Gray clouds had turned black and rumbled overhead. Fat raindrops plopped on her cheeks as she shivered under her thin sweater and cursed herself for not keeping a spare umbrella at the diner. If she hustled, she could make it to her father’s house—less than a mile away—before it got too bad.

  If only the weather was the reason for the sad empty streets and vacant storefronts. Any tourist passing through town would think Butterfly Harbor had been abandoned. Much like the way Catalina Island shut down in midafternoon, the sidewalks were vacant and the stores were dark. As Holly passed, signs were turned to Closed with a slow-motion attitude that spoke of “why bother?” Things had to get better.

  They would. Things just needed a little nudge in the right direction.

  The wind picked up and whipped her ponytailed hair around her face. She braced herself for being soaked to the skin before she got anywhere near her father’s front yard.

  She increased her pace, hoofing it down Monarch Lane all the way to the abandoned community center that hadn’t seen any activity in years. By the time she crossed the road and headed up the hill, the rain was coming down in plumes, preventing her from hearing anything but the cacophonous drops hitting the cement like tiny jackhammers. The lightning and thunder added their mocking two cents and pounded in her ears.

  “Holly!”

  Luke’s voice exploded beside her and she yelped. She jumped back and avoided toppling into Mrs. Clancy’s prized flower bed. “What?” She pressed a hand against her hammering heart. “Luke, what the—”

  “Get in the truck!” Lightning split the air as the sky thundered.

  “Woof!” The sparkling-clean retriever shoved his head between Luke’s arms on the steering wheel.

  “I’m not going far.” She regained her footing and started up the hill again, but her father’s house felt miles away. “I’m fine.”

  Rain pinged off the roof of his cab as he kept pace beside her. She gnashed her teeth. The last thing she needed was Luke Saxon coming to her rescue. What karmic wrong had she committed—

  “You’re headed to your dad’s, right?” Luke called.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She sped up and crossed the street. How did he know where she was going?

  “For the love of—” Luke slammed on the brakes, shoved open the creaky door and got out. A lightning bolt blasted down and struck the oak twenty feet in front of her. “Holly!” The crack and thud of the huge branch had her falling solidly into Luke. His hands gripped her arms, hauling her away from the crackle and pop of power lines as the branch thudded on to the road and settled against the wind. The smell of ozone singed her nose and she choked. “Now will you get in the—”

  “Yeah.” She shuddered, her brain going fuzzy as electricity zinged around her. Another couple of seconds and she could have been under that branch. She shrugged off his hold despite the comfort his hands provided. “You win.”

  She scrambled around him and pulled open the passenger door, flinging herself inside as a deluge struck and obscured the street from view. Luke’s dog chuffed and blinked at her. Holly’s mouth twisted. Obviously the dog was the smartest of them, never having ventured out of the safety of the vehicle.

  Luke slid into the driver’s seat, sending her a look she might have withered under had she been a violet under the too-hot sun. “I see you haven’t lost your stubborn streak.”

  She ignored the backhanded compliment. “He cleaned up nicely.” Holly shoved her sopping hair out of her eyes and leaned into the dog that had apparently undergone a self-confidence transplant. He nuzzled her shoulder. The hot, stifling air that circled the cab made it feel as if she’d stepped into a sauna. “I take it he’s yours now?”

  “So it would seem. Buckle up.” He jerked his chin toward the seat belt as he put the car into Reverse before heading back toward Monarch Lane.

  As if her town wasn’t bleak enough, the storm was going to give them a right walloping. The waves began crashing up against the town wall, sending mist and spray over the road ahead of them.

  “What’s his name?” Holly hated the silence pulsing between them.

  “He hasn’t told me yet,” Luke said with something akin to a smile on his tight lips. “Doc Collins asked the same thing for his new file, but...” He shrugged and clutched the steering wheel tighter as a gust of wind battered the truck. “Would have been nice to have some warning about this storm.”

  Huh. Holly settled in her seat, trying to distract herself with petting no-name fur face, but it wasn’t any use. “I talked to my father. About you and the job.”

  “Yeah?” He waited for a decrepit 70s throwback van to pass before he turned left on Wasp Tail Road.

  “He told me he recommended you.”

  “He did. Does it matter?”

  Holly pressed her lips into a hard, thin line. “He’s still out of a job. Doesn’t matter who they replaced him with.”

  “I’m just icing on the cake, then.” He shifted gears and the truck strained against his order. “I didn’t accept this offer lightly, Holly. I’m well aware of what I left behind and the mistakes I made. Believe me, I didn’t expect anyone to throw a parade when I drove into town. Especially you.”

  Holly stared out her window. Until Luke had walked into the diner the other day, she hadn’t realized how much resentment she was still clinging to. She wasn’t ashamed of her feelings—because of Luke she’d nearly lost her father. From her perspective, Luke hadn’t had to witness the aftermath of the accident. He didn’t have to watch Jake suffer through physical therapy, months in the hospital and pain that had followed him every day since. Or watch as her mother got in her car and drove away. “We all make mistakes, Luke.”

  “I guess some of us aren’t allowed to learn from them.”

  She whipped around to stare at him. “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Luke took his eyes off the road and met her gaze. “There’s nothing I can do to change the past, but what happened with your father changed my life.” It was then she saw the mixture of grief and pain in his cool blue eyes. “I need this job, Holly. I hope you can understand that.”

  Holly remained silent, mostly because her father had pretty much said the same thing to her. But while Jake Gordon had faith in people’s abilities to change, she knew better. The Luke Saxon she knew was a drinker. Just like Gray. The Luke she remembered was irresponsible, dangerous and unpredictable. Just like Gray. She’d gone down that road before, and she wasn’t one to repeat history, even with a distant acquaintance.

  If Holly had her way, there was no reason to have much interaction with Luke from now on. Staying out of rainstorms would be a good start. Staying out of his too-close-for-comfort truck wasn’t a bad idea, either. She could smell the hint of his aftershave. Warm, spicy. Intoxicating.

  “Dad’s always been more generous on the forgiveness front than me,” she said to distract—and remind—herself.

  “Yeah, well. Then we have something in common after all.” He made a left on Milk Thistle Way as the rain settled into a gentle patter against the windshield. “I’ve never asked for nor expected your forgiveness. How can I when I can’t forgive myself? But at least with me as sheriff, I’ll do my best to respect what Jake’s done during his tenure.” He slammed the gearshift forward and she caught the flinch on his face as if the past were no less painful for him.

  They rumbled along the road in silence until he turned and stopped behind Jake’s ancient jeep. Holly stared out at the single-story stone house she’d grown up in. The house that had given her the stability of a loving father and the pain of a mother who had abandoned them. There were times, even as an adult, she couldn’t wait to step foot inside and
find herself instantly at home and safe. Not everyone had such stability. She glanced over at Luke and felt a pang of sympathy she wasn’t ready to embrace.

  Luke hadn’t had anything close to stable and yet here he sat, with a rescue dog sitting between them as solid and immovable as the past.

  “Thank you for the ride.” She hugged her purse against her chest as she shoved open the door. “It was a very sheriff thing to do.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Take care, Holly.”

  “Yeah, you, too.” She bit her lip, knowing she should say more. Luke Saxon wasn’t evil. He wasn’t even horrible. He was a man who had made mistakes at an age when stupidity was as commonplace as pimples and overused hair products. She slid out of the cab and gave the dog a final pat. “I’m glad he found you.”

  “I found him,” Luke said.

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” She closed the door and headed inside, where her father and son—her family—was waiting for her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “THERE WAS A time I never would have trusted Luke Saxon with power tools.” The deep voice that blasted through the residual roar of Luke’s chain saw the next morning had him turning to face a uniformed deputy lounging against the hood of a patrol car. Arms crossed over a pumped-up chest, dark sunglasses obscuring any hint of expression on his lean, narrow face, the officer tilted his chin down. “Normally we like to be notified before someone goes hacking our trees apart.”

  Luke set down the chain saw and stretched his arms in front of him, wincing as the scars along his back tightened in protest. “Fletcher Bradley.” Luke had read up on the meager staff he’d be inheriting at the police station and hadn’t been surprised to find the onetime golden boy of Butterfly Harbor High on the list of employees. Fletch had always talked about being a cop. Looks as though he’d gotten what he wanted. Wiping the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt, Luke let out a long breath. “I suppose I should have called in or stopped by the station, but...”

  “You probably would have ended up on hold.” Fletch’s grin seemed strained, kicking up the worry Luke had been tamping down when it came to dealing with his coworkers. “Jake’s been on the phone all morning trying to wrangle up some help from neighboring counties. Great way to spend his last days on the job. Entire area got walloped, but Butterfly Harbor isn’t high on their priority list. I hear Mayor Gil is in a right state over the lack of assistance. Is this the branch that tried to take out Holly Campbell?”

  “What’s left of it.” Luke looked at the chunked-up ten-foot limb. He hadn’t realized he’d used the branch—and the opportunity—to take out some of his frustrations at being back in his father’s house. Not that he’d minded having to delay tackling the sorry excuse for a living space. He wasn’t convinced the house was livable at all. Even Cash—the name had come to Luke in the middle of the night—wasn’t overly impressed with his musty lodgings, but the dog had claimed his own space on a new floor rug beside the soot-caked fireplace, before tucking in next to the rickety double bed in Luke’s old room. “Thought I’d haul the pieces for firewood, if that’s okay?”

  “More than,” Fletcher said.

  “How’d you know I was out here anyway?” Luke didn’t have to look far for his answer. A shadowy figure shifted behind lace curtains in a nearby house. “Mrs. Ellison?”

  “She called Myra Standing, who got Oscar to walk over to the station to tell us someone was out here making a ruckus with his chain saw. I think your name might have gotten thrown in there somewhere as a minor epithet.” Fletcher pulled off his glasses and tossed them through the open window of his squad car. “You gotta know coming back here was going to be like kicking up a hornet’s nest of gossip. You can’t blow your nose without someone announcing it in the paper.”

  “The sheriff’s desk might not be mine till Monday, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t work that needs doing. But yeah.”

  “Tongues are definitely wagging. Most people aren’t sure how to feel about you replacing Jake.”

  “You one of those people?” Luke needed to know sooner than later what he’d be facing when it came to his own men.

  “Haven’t decided yet,” Fletcher said. “You want some help loading up your truck?”

  “How do you know I have a truck?”

  All six foot three of Fletch straightened with the cockiness Luke remembered from their high school days. “It’s my job to know.”

  Between the two of them it didn’t take long to get the wood taken care of and the branches curbside for the service that would be around in a few days’ time.

  “What’s next on your agenda?” Fletcher asked as he slammed the truck bed closed and circled around to the cab. Cash woofed through the open window. “Hey, he looks pretty good for what Doc Collins said he’d been through. Hey, boy. Any idea yet as to who tied him up?”

  The internet had nothing on Butterfly Harbor when it came to the information superhighway. After all his years away, he would have to readjust to the small-town rumor mill...and fast.

  “No, but I’ll be looking. I saw some other downed trees on my drive over here. Thought I’d go check them out. That okay with you, Deputy?”

  “Have at it.” Fletcher nodded. “Come by the station for lunch when you’re done.”

  Luke shook his head. “Not my place. Not yet.” The last thing he wanted to do was shove out Jake any faster than he was already being pushed.

  “You made it your place by taking care of business.” Fletch headed to his car, gestured to Mrs. Ellison, who had emerged from her front door to stand watching them from her porch, with her laser-beam eyes.

  Luke gave a quick wave and hauled himself into the truck before she could ignore him. He looked at Cash. “Well, boy. Guess we’re in this for the long term, huh?”

  “Woof.”

  “My sentiments exactly. Now let’s see what else is out there waiting for us.”

  * * *

  “SIMON, STOP STRAGGLING and get a move on.” Holly hurried down Monarch Lane to Stories Unbound, Butterfly Harbor’s independent bookstore. Nose down, she checked her phone calendar. She had fewer than forty-five minutes before Twyla had to leave for a dentist appointment, so getting Simon loaded up with a new stack of books was her first priority.

  The hours at the diner were beginning to close in on her, but she didn’t have anyone but herself to blame. “Heads up, Holly!”

  “Mom!” Simon gripped the back of her jeans with his hand. “Watch out!”

  The enormous piece of plywood crossing her path stopped and lowered as Luke’s surprised face popped up on the other side. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t see you.”

  “Then, who—” Holly craned her neck forward and saw Harvey Mills, hardware store proprietor, rushing toward them, his stubby legs tested by the barrel of a belly he carried.

  “Everything okay?” Harvey panted as he reached them. “I thought Luke would wait for some help before loading up his truck.”

  “What’s going on?” Holly reached behind her to draw Simon against her side. The sheen of sweat covering Luke’s face and the way his hair fell over his startling blue eyes made her stomach flip. Nothing like a bout of activity to remind a woman of a strong, healthy man.

  “Couple of blown-out windows thanks to the storm.” Luke hefted the plywood into his arms and hauled it the remaining feet to his truck. “Heard your dad was having problems getting repair help so I thought I’d pitch in. Hi, Simon.”

  “Hi.” Holly felt Simon’s grip on her tighten.

  “I’ll just...” Harvey gestured behind him, bulging eyes darting between Holly and Luke as if he expected one of them to combust at any minute. “I’ll send Chet out with the dolly and the last of the wood.” He scrambled off.

  “Is this your dog?” Simon trailed after Luke and rose up on tipt
oe to peer into the truck. Cash shifted seats and stuck his head out of the open driver’s-side window.

  “Careful, Simon,” Holly warned. Given Simon’s penchant for hugging most animals, he’d have no qualms about throwing his arms around this one.

  “I know, Mom.” She could all but see him rolling his eyes. “What’s his name?” He curled his fingers over the window edge.

  “Cash,” Luke said with a grunt as he slid the plywood on top of the others in the truck bed. “Short for Cassius. After Cassius Clay.”

  “The boxer?” Holly asked, and her heart twisted as Cash gave Simon’s hand a solid lick. Her son’s smile widened.

  Luke nodded. “They’re both fighters. Seemed fitting. I see you weathered the rest of the storm okay.”

  “Yeah.” She still had difficulty reconciling the Luke she knew years ago with the man who had returned. The edge was still there, along with the promise of danger, although it was tempered by maturity and control. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “We’re heading to the bookstore, so...”

  “Actually, I’m glad you ran into me.” He grinned and made Holly’s heart stutter. “I saw a bunch of kids hanging out around the old community center last night. What can you tell me about them?”

  “They’re bored,” Holly said, reluctantly impressed he cared. “Not much left for them to do around town, especially now that the arcade closed.”

  “I saw a blond kid, birdlike hair.” Luke waved his hand above his head. “Gray hooded sweatshirt. Seemed like the ringleader.”

  “That’s Kyle Winters,” Simon announced as he continued to pet Cash. “He’s always up to something.”

  “Like what?” Luke asked.

  “He’s mean. He picks on littler kids.” Simon’s face scrunched up. “Knocks them down, throws things at them. One time he even shoved Monty Tillings in his locker. I heard Mellie Sinclair say he smokes pot up in one of the beach caves. I tried to follow him up there one time, but it got too steep.”