Sandpiper Cove

by Irene Hannon

  Unless she was as anxious to see him as he was to see her.

  The corners of his mouth rose, and he set the hammer down. Nice thought. And while she was here, why not tell her about Rebecca Oliver’s visit? That would free up tonight for other, more personal, topics.

  His smile broadened.

  As soon as the cruiser stopped, he walked over to join her. Luis wasn’t the type to eavesdrop, but the other workers BJ had brought in for this job might not be as discreet.

  “Hi.” He stopped several feet from her, fighting the urge to give her the kind of welcome better reserved for a less-public place.

  “Hi back.” She returned his smile . . . sort of. And her inflection seemed a bit odd. It was hard to gauge her mood behind those sunglasses, though. “Do you think you could finagle a ten-minute break from your boss?”

  “My boss won’t be back from her honeymoon until Saturday. Luis and I are the acting bosses. So yeah, I can take a break. Is everything okay?”

  Instead of answering, she scanned the site. “Is there somewhere a little more private we could talk?”

  A surge of unease spiraled through him.

  “There’s a cluster of rhododendron bushes behind the house. That’s the closest spot.”

  “That works.”

  He took her arm and led her around the half-built house, toward the bushes laden with buds beginning to show a hint of purple. In another week or two, they’d be a mass of blossoms.

  Once they were shielded from prying eyes—and ears—Lexie removed her glasses.

  Adam’s stomach bottomed out.

  She looked seriously worried.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to let you know about a rumor that’s spreading through town.” She dipped her head and rubbed at the twin creases denting her brow. “I wish there was an easy way to say this.”

  He fisted his hands at his sides and steeled himself. “Just tell me. I’m used to dealing with bad stuff.”

  Silence.

  “Lexie—what is it?” With every second that passed, his panic ratcheted up another notch.

  She sucked in a breath . . . and met his gaze. The anguish searing her eyes, along with the hint of anger and frustration in their depths, clawed at his gut.

  “The rumor is that you’re involved in the vandalism incidents that have been taking place in town.”

  Whatever he’d been bracing for, that wasn’t it. “What?”

  “Seeds of doubt are being planted about you.”

  “By whom?”

  “I have my suspicions—but no proof.”

  “Do you want to share them?” As far as he knew, he’d done nothing to alienate anyone in town. Why would someone target him?

  She hesitated. “I don’t usually discuss ongoing investigations, but since you’re involved with this one now, I’m going to break that rule.”

  As she told him about visiting the Fishers, and the family’s reaction to her suggestion that Lucas was involved, the left side of his brain did the math.

  “It’s that Fisher boy or his father, isn’t it? This is payback because I verified Brian’s alibi.”

  “That’s my assumption.”

  “This is unbelievable.” He raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace. “I was one of the victims, for crying out loud!”

  “I know. They covered that in the rumor.”

  “How?”

  At her deflect-suspicion explanation, a wave of despair washed over him. “I can’t even fight the insinuations. The only one who can vouch for my whereabouts on the nights those incidents happened is Clyde.” He faced her. “Tell me everything you heard.”

  He listened as she briefed him on the calls she’d received, his spirits diving. The assurance from her mother that the town supported him was the one bright spot, but it didn’t help a lot. Once doubt was planted, it was hard to eradicate.

  “I didn’t want you to find out about this from someone else. That’s why I drove out the minute I heard.”

  As she finished, as the broader implications began to compute, a second shock jolted through him, shaking him to the core.

  Lexie was the chief of police. He was a felon under new suspicion. Having anything to do with him—let alone getting involved in a dating relationship—could derail her career.

  The bad news she’d come out here to deliver was about more than the rumor.

  “It’s over, isn’t it?” Somehow he choked out the question, stomach twisting like it had the day his father ruined the best birthday of his life. Only worse.

  Far worse.

  Her face went blank. “What are you talking about?”

  “Us. You want to pull back.”

  “No!” Shock widened her eyes. “I’m not bailing on you. I know you had no part in the vandalism. I just didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else. We’ll get through this—together.”

  Relief coursed through him . . . but it was short-lived.

  Lexie’s career could be at stake here—and the last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for the woman who was rapidly stealing his heart.

  “Were our names linked in any of these rumors?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  Her cautious response raised his antennas. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She hesitated . . . then lifted one shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. Or it shouldn’t be. I wasn’t going to mention this, because I thought it was a moot issue.” She proceeded to tell him about Martin Fisher’s threat of a smear campaign against her. “I don’t think he’ll follow through now that we’ve laid off Lucas. And he’s the only person who’s seen us together.”

  But he was the wrong person.

  And what would happen if a lot more people saw them appearing together in public as a couple?

  What a colossal mess.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” He wiped a hand down his face.

  “Hey.” She wove her fingers through his, her tone fierce. “We are not going to bow to this kind of pressure. I’m proud to be seen with you. You’re a fine man who’s leading an exemplary life. All of the people in this town who know you know that. This will blow over eventually.”

  But maybe not until after it destroyed her career.

  Martin Fisher might never follow through on his threat against Lexie, but the smear campaign against him could do just as much damage to her.

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  Gently he tugged his fingers free. “I need to get back to work.”

  “I do too.” She searched his face. “We’ll talk more about this tonight, okay?”

  No.

  Not a smart idea.

  He needed to think this through. Alone. If they spent the evening together, it would be too easy to let her persuade him to stick together, regardless of the cost to her.

  “Listen . . .” He retreated a step and shoved his hands in his pockets, fighting the temptation to wrap her in his arms and hold her close until all the bad stuff went away. “Why don’t you give me a rain check on dinner at my place? We may have to work a little later than usual here, and I need to absorb everything you told me.”

  Distress etched her features. “It doesn’t change a thing between us as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I appreciate that—and your confidence.”

  “My feelings for you run much deeper than confidence.” Her imploring gaze fastened on his as she made that admission. “I don’t want to lose you, Adam. Don’t shut me out.”

  “I’m not. I don’t want to lose you, either. I just . . . give me a few days to work through this. Please.”

  “You aren’t going to bolt, are you?” A thread of fear laced through her words.

  “No.” He wouldn’t leave without telling her.

  If the townspeople turned against him, however, leaving might be the only way to protect Lexie—and preserve the life he’d created post-prison. He could start over in another town up the coast. BJ would give
him an excellent recommendation, and he had Rebecca Oliver’s offer on the table. Life would go on.

  Even if it wouldn’t be the same without Lexie.

  Even if leaving her behind would almost kill him.

  “I can understand why you want some space—but I’m here for you, Adam. Talk to me before you make any decisions that affect both of us. Please.”

  He couldn’t promise her that. Lexie was the kind of woman who would put the people she cared about first, whatever the cost to herself. And given the strength of his feelings for her, she might be able to sway him. But he couldn’t let her undermine her position in the town she loved for him.

  “I’ll stay in touch.” It was the best he could offer.

  “Adam?” A male voice called out from the in-progress house.

  “I need to get back. Framing is a two-person job. No pun intended.”

  His lame attempt at humor fell flat.

  “Adam?” Another holler from his coworker.

  “Coming!” He reached over and stroked his fingers across her cheek. “Let’s give this a few days and see what happens. I’ll call you.”

  With that, he walked away.

  Five minutes passed before she emerged from the bushes and trudged to her car, sunglasses once again in place. At the car door, she paused and angled back. He lifted his hand. She responded. Then she slid behind the wheel, made a U-turn, and drove down the road, Shep and Ziggy bounding along behind her with loud barks.

  He watched until she disappeared from view—praying she wasn’t about to disappear from his life as well.

  All the while knowing that was a very distinct possibility.

  What a day.

  Lexie pulled into the driveway, twisted the key in the ignition to kill the motor, and rested her forehead against the steering wheel.

  One peeved motorist after another this morning as she issued speeding tickets. News that a nasty rumor was spreading like wildfire. An emotional meeting at the cranberry farm with Adam. A shouting match to referee this afternoon between two drivers involved in a fender bender.

  Summoning up the dregs of her energy, she slid out of the car and plodded toward the house. Aspirin, a cold pack for her head, and a hot bath, that’s what she needed. In that order. As fast as possible.

  She pushed through the back door to the savory aroma of beef brisket—but even her mom’s stellar cooking couldn’t tempt her tonight. She’d lost her appetite somewhere along the road on the drive back from the farm.

  “Hi, hon.” Her mom glanced over from the stove. “Would you tell Matt dinner will be ready in five?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her mother stopped stirring whatever was in the pot. “You don’t look too hot. Are you sick?”

  Only at heart.

  “No. Long day.”

  “Did you talk to Adam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Had he heard the rumor?”

  “No.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “How do you think?” She scrolled through her voicemail, on the off chance she’d missed a call from him during the afternoon.

  No new messages.

  “Did you ask him to dinner later in the week?”

  “No.” She slipped the phone back on her belt and continued toward the hall.

  “Why not?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?”

  “Lexie?”

  She stopped. Inhaled. Exhaled. It wasn’t fair to take out her fatigue and bad mood on her mom.

  “Sorry.” She swiveled back. “He asked for some space to think about what’s going on.”

  “Does that mean your date for tonight is off?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her mom removed the pot from the stove, reduced the oven temperature, and motioned to the table. “Let’s sit.”

  “I don’t have a lot to say.”

  “Humor me for a few minutes.”

  “Where’s Matt?”

  “Watching a video. He won’t interrupt.” She pulled out Lexie’s chair. “Come on. Tell me what happened with Adam.”

  Lexie hovered on the threshold. Talking wasn’t going to resolve the crisis—but it might help to get a third-party assessment.

  She retraced her steps, sat, and briefed her mom on their conversation.

  When she finished, her mother looked as worried as Lexie felt.

  “I can’t begin to imagine how devastating this must be for someone who’s been through as much as he has. And being alone might not be the best idea. He needs to be around people who support him.”

  “I agree . . . but he asked for space. Shouldn’t I respect that?”

  “Yes—to a point. But in traumatic situations, people can get tunnel vision . . . which can lead to bad choices. If we care about someone, we might need to intervene. Remember how you got that bee in your bonnet about joining the track team in high school?”

  “Vividly. I almost killed myself—until you and Dad talked some sense into me.”

  “But you weren’t happy about us butting in.”

  “True.” Far from it. The fit she’d thrown still embarrassed her. “But if you hadn’t, that stress fracture I was trying to run on could have caused permanent damage.”

  “You couldn’t see that back then, though. You were focused on the wrong priority and lost sight of the bigger picture. Adam might be doing that too.” Her mom cocked her head, expression pensive. “Some concrete sign of support from the town might help restore his perspective.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not certain. Let me noodle on it. In the meantime, you might want to show some in-person support.”

  “Such as?”

  Her mother folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “You’re thirty-five years old. Do I have to spell it out?”

  Warmth crept over her cheeks. “Fine. I get the picture. But I’ll give him a couple of days first, like he asked.”

  “Mmm.” Her mom tapped a finger on the table. “You don’t think he might decide to be noble and walk away to protect you from any scandal, do you?”

  Her mother had voiced the very fear that had been niggling at her all afternoon.

  “He said he wouldn’t—not without telling me.”

  “Has he ever lied to you?”

  “No.”

  “Then there’s no reason to think he’ll start now.”

  That was true. He wouldn’t leave without warning her.

  But . . .

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t decide to leave.”

  “What’s your plan if he does?”

  “Try to talk him out of it. There are other law enforcement jobs on the Oregon coast within commuting distance. I have no intention of letting anyone—or anything—drive me away from the town I love or the man I—” She cut herself off. It was far too soon to be thinking that, let alone saying it.

  “It sounds like you have this under control.” With an approving nod, her mother stood. “There’s plenty of brisket for all of us. I’ll set another place.”

  “No thanks. I’m not hungry. All I want to do is veg in a hot bath for a few minutes.” After she took those aspirin.

  “I’ll put a plate in the oven for you, in case your appetite picks up later.” Her mom gave her a hug. “Hang in, Lexie. If you two are meant to be together, a malicious stunt like this isn’t going to change the outcome. I’ll keep Matt entertained while you enjoy your bath.”

  Enjoy?

  Hardly.

  That description would better apply to the date she’d been anticipating with Adam.

  Still—there would be more dates to come once this storm passed.

  In fact, if Adam didn’t contact her by Friday, he’d find himself on a surprise date come Saturday.

  Not the romantic kind she’d prefer—but by the time she left Sandpiper Cove, there would be zero doubt in his mind that no matter what he might be thinking, she was sticking with him.

  For better or worse.

  23
>
  He owed Lexie a call.

  Three days had passed since she’d broken the traumatic news at the farm, and their only contact had been via voicemail.

  But he didn’t know what to tell her.

  Adam picked up a broken sand dollar from the beach, weighed it in his hand, and pitched it out to sea as hard as he could. It arced through the air against the blue sky, toward the jagged sea stacks offshore and the distant horizon, fuzzy on this Saturday afternoon. Then it disappeared beneath the dark blue water.

  Clyde bounded up with his odd half-hop gait and dropped the ball onto the sand.

  “Want to play again, fella?”

  He gave a joyful woof and wagged his tail so hard his whole body shook.

  “I assume that’s a yes.” Lips twitching despite his bleak mood, Adam gave the ball another toss.

  Clyde took off after it.

  “He is a happy pup.”

  Adam swiveled around to find Luis strolling toward him. Odd timing. Though the man had told him he often took walks on this long stretch of windswept beach, their paths had never crossed.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “A lucky one too.”

  “I’m not certain about that.” He watched the dog maneuver on his bad leg, scampering to corral the ball as it fell. “He’ll never recover from his encounter with that car.”

  “He would have died if you had not saved him.”

  “But he’s crippled.”

  Luis studied the dog, who’d detoured to play tag with the surf. “It does not seem to bother him. He has adopted.”

  Once again, Adam’s mouth flexed. “I think you mean adapted.”

  “Yes. Adapted. I always have trouble with that word.” The Cuban’s dark irises twinkled with merriment. So different from his early days on BJ’s crew, after tragedy had robbed him of the new life in America he’d dreamed of. “Adapting is a valuable skill, yes?”

  Adam knew where he was heading with this. Everyone on BJ’s crew had heard the rumors circulating about him. Luis had been supportive, but the other workers had avoided the topic. None of them knew him well enough to have a strong opinion, and while they’d been friendly, he’d seen the flashes of doubt in their eyes.

  It had been uncomfortable, to say the least.

  “I don’t know if you can adapt to distrust.” He toed a piece of driftwood, dislodging it from the sand where it had settled. A metaphor for his own situation, perhaps? Maybe he should yank out the tender roots he’d put down in Hope Harbor and move on.