Farraday Country

by Chris Keniston

  “Would you like another beer?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. One’s my limit on the bike.”

  Aunt Eileen beamed at him as though he were a teenager who had just given his mother the right answer. He couldn’t help but return the smile. The entire meal, the banter, the teasing, the camaraderie had explained so much. And the pretty brunette across the table from him was doing more good to his tired soul than the heating pad, the beer, or the family love bouncing off the walls.

  Hannah pushed back out of her chair and picked up both their plates. “Would you like some ice cream with your pie?”

  He was all set to decline dessert when he remembered somebody had used the words fresh-baked midway through dinner. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had a homemade blueberry pie, and wasn’t about to pass up the chance for a first time now. Though he had a feeling if he stuck around much longer, there’d be a lot more firsts in store for him. “Plain is fine. Thank you.”

  The very pregnant woman at his other side leaned in conspiratorially. “Ice cream is homemade too. You may want to try it. Just saying.” Nestled back upright, resting her hands on her well-rounded stomach, she winked at him.

  “Sounds good,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

  “We Yankees have to stick together.”

  With more out of state residents than Texans living in the Dallas suburbs, he wasn’t used to being called out as a Yankee, but was rather pleased with the newfound kinship.

  “Where are you from?” Toni asked.

  “Born in upstate New York. Philadelphia for high school, and just about any place Uncle Sam sent me after that before settling in Texas.”

  “In the military?”

  “Marine.”

  “Ah, a jarhead.”

  He gave her a big smile despite the needling nickname. The lady was just too cute to be irritated with.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” Toni rolled her eyes at him like an older sister silently putting her baby brother in his place. And wasn’t that just a hoot. “I have three brothers-in-law, two of them former Marines, one of them a helicopter pilot soon to be added to the ranks of former Marine.”

  He shook his head at her, but continued smiling. “You know what they say—”

  “I didn’t say ex-Marine,” she cut him off, “I said former.”

  Connor came walking up to the table with two dishes in hand. “Once a Marine—”

  “—Always a Marine,” both men echoed.

  Toni rolled her eyes again and muttered, “Men.”

  The pie was well worth the delay and probably on his new list of favorites. “This is amazing.” He waved a fork at the aunt.

  “Glad you like it. You’re welcome back for more any time you’re in the area.”

  “Thank you.” Maybe, someday, if he got his future back, he could take her up on the offer. By the time he’d polished off the pie and the ice cream and the cup of coffee Aunt Eileen insisted he have, another hour had passed. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, but it’s time I hit the road.”

  “Listen, man,” Connor came up beside him, “it’s a bit of a ways into town and a ride on that bike has got to be tough after a long day. Why don’t we toss it in the back of the truck and give you a lift into town?”

  The cowboy looked at him, his expression blank, his gaze steady.

  If Dale had to make a flash decision, he’d say the offer wasn’t simply expected politeness but sincere. “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.”

  “Correct. It isn’t necessary, but I’m offering nonetheless.” Connor hadn’t come right out and said as much, but the implication, the reminder of Semper Fi, was clear.

  “Appreciated, but it’s best I just get on my way. Thank you for the hospitality.” He turned to Hannah. “And I’m glad to see you’re feeling fine. I really am sorry about the horse.”

  “All in a day’s work.” She smiled up at him. “All in a day’s work.”

  Aunt Eileen stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, her sweet smile clearly meant to disarm the most stubborn. “I cannot think of a single good reason not to accept Connor’s offer of a lift into town. There’s no weakness in admitting you’re hurting.”

  The way the last words rolled off her tongue, Dale had the distinct feeling she was talking about much more than his injured back. Added to the small snickers and smiles spreading across the faces of the few people still at the table and Dale wasn’t at all sure how to respond besides a simple, “Thank you, Miss Eileen.”

  “It’s Aunt Eileen. There’s no miss around here.”

  “Excuse me. Thank you, Aunt Eileen. But honestly, I’m fine to drive. Really. You’ve taken excellent care of me. Probably better care than I’ve had, well, in a long time. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Easing her stance, her hands fell by her side and she nodded. The glimmer of acceptance in her eyes made him feel marginally better. A small part of him wanted to take them up on the easier ride. Another small part wanted to join this crazy familial world that he had now become even more at home with over the course of one single dinner.

  But this was not his world, and there was no way he would bring his world down on these nice people. Not now. Not ever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dale saw the lights of the small town ahead. From what he already knew, Tuckers Bluff was one of those one stoplight towns, but not until actually riding down Main Street, passing the café, the small shops, the town square, did he realize exactly how small was small. Up ahead he saw the lit sign for the lone police station and decided now was as good a time as any to deal with the reason he’d chosen to ride through Tuckers Bluff. Pulling his bike into a space in front and setting down the kickstand, he slid off the bike, straightened to his full height and unstrapped his helmet. Taking longer than he needed to settle his headgear onto the motorcycle, he steeled himself for the next bridge to cross.

  Even though it was against standard procedure, he couldn’t go through with the plan without setting at least one person straight. Opening the door and stepping inside the country office, he looked left and spotted the dispatcher at her desk. A middle-aged woman on the phone repeating “Yes, ma’am, I understand,” and a few “I know it’s not easy,” she looked up at him, smiled, and lifted a finger. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see to it that someone comes by and takes a look right away. I’m sure it will be fine. See you on Sunday.” She stood and met his questioning gaze head on. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to speak with the police chief.”

  The dispatcher sized him up from head to toe and then from toe to head. “Police chief Farraday is out of the office at the moment. Perhaps I can—”

  “No, ma’am. I’d rather wait for the chief.”

  Her steely gaze sharpened. “It may be a while before the chief is back in the office. If this is an emergency…” She let the words hang.

  “No, ma’am. Not an emergency. A courtesy. I’m staying at the bed and breakfast in town. I will stop by after I’ve checked in. Perhaps I can catch him then.”

  “Shall I give him a message?”

  “No, ma’am. As I said. Just a courtesy call.”

  The officer looked at him long and hard. Finally she offered a brief nod of her head and retook her seat. With a return nod, he pivoted around and marched out the front door. If he read her face right, and he was pretty sure he could read this one, the second the door slammed shut behind him, she would be on the phone to DJ telling him there was a stranger in town looking for him. Dale liked the look of her face. He had the feeling that if all hell broke loose, she was one of the officers that could be trusted to have your back. For a small-town police force, DJ probably put together one of the best in Texas.

  ****

  “Well that was a nice young man.” Aunt Eileen stood at the sink loading the dishwasher. “And he just rode up and spooked the horse, knocking you out of the saddle?”

  “Yep, that pretty much covers it.” Hannah wiped the counter down. />
  “And you’re sure there wasn’t anything else around to have spooked the horse?”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. This was the third time Aunt Eileen had asked her about something else in the vicinity. The woman was poking for the mystery dog. Apparently her aunt’s matchmaking radar was on high alert and only the absence of a shaggy dog was preventing her from hogtying the stranger and dragging him back to the house until he proposed. “Sorry, Aunt Eileen. No dog on the road, no dog in the fields, no dog in the shadows. No dog.”

  Her aunt nodded. “Well, he does seem a bit broken.”

  Hannah bit back a groan. She wasn’t sure if her aunt was referring to the back or something inside the man. Not that it mattered. She’d seen that isolated look in his eyes in too many people. There was definitely something that was hurting and she felt sure his back wasn’t the half of it. Then again, most people had something at some point in their lives that hurt them deep inside. The people we love the most can do the worst damage. Life was a cycle. Death, love, joy, pain, so many different things contributing to who we are. Whatever the pieces of the puzzle were that had made their dinner guest the man he was, she’d admit, at least to herself, this guy definitely intrigued her.

  “Are you two still talking about that dog?” Her uncle Sean came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek then shook his head at his sister-in-law. “Sometimes, Eileen, I wonder when you got bit by this silly notion that every single person within Tuckers Bluff city limits should be married.”

  Aunt Eileen wiped her hands on the dish rag and tossed it on the countertop, then turned to face her brother in law. “Every single person in town? Really?” She shook her head, smiling. “Heaven knows nobody would want to marry off the sisters. Not to mention all the young ones who need time to grow up. But if there’s a good match I certainly wouldn’t want somebody to miss out on it. Look how happy your children are. When it’s right, it’s right. That’s all I’m saying.” She leaned forward and kissed Hannah on the cheek. “I’m off to bed early to curl up with a good book.”

  That sounded like an excellent idea. Hannah had bought a book not too long ago in town thinking that curling up with an old-fashioned paperback could be a nice reprieve from the last-minute stresses of the upcoming riding programs. Except she hadn’t had a single moment to herself where she wasn’t too tired to hold the thing in her hands. Tonight was going to be the night. “I’m going to call it an early night too.”

  Her uncle Sean followed behind a few steps before snapping his fingers. “I almost forgot.” He turned and headed back toward his office, returning a few seconds later with an envelope in hand. “This was slipped inside my Texas Monthly magazine. Meant to give it to you earlier today.”

  “Thanks.” Eyes nearly crossed, Eileen studied the return address and if Hannah wasn’t mistaken, paled a shade or two.

  “Bad news?” Sean Farraday inched closer.

  So Hannah wasn’t the only one who thought her aunt’s reaction to the envelope hadn’t been a good thing.

  Aunt Eileen shook her head, lifted her chin, and slipped the envelope into her pocket. “No. Probably junk mail. You’d think by now advertisers would learn people don’t read snail mail and stop sending us all this crap.”

  Uncle Sean hesitated before smiling, satisfied with the explanation. “I think the post office needs it to stay in business.”

  Aunt Eileen returned the smile. “Sleep well.” Her hand in her pocket, she headed up the stairs.

  Hannah followed on her heels to the door of her cousin Adam’s old room. For Hannah, it felt the same as being home. As young girls, she and her cousin Grace had spent many a night giggling and laughing and tormenting the older boys, hiding under the bed, in the closet and anywhere else where they might play tricks. Together, they’d laughed and joked, they’d teased, they’d tumbled and practiced somersaults and hand stands. And of course, like all giddy young girls, shared secrets from their diaries. Yep, just like home.

  Another round of good night and sleep well crossed between her aunt, her uncle and herself as each one entered their room and closed the doors behind them. Watching her aunt and uncle was like watching her mom and dad. Though much about the relationship made no sense. Hannah’s cousins had been long grown, and yet Aunt Eileen was still as much a staple at this household as Uncle Sean.

  Once the kids had started moving away, if it had been Hannah, she would have been looking for her own match, or maybe someone for Uncle Sean. Then again, what the hell did she know about raising children and growing old. She had her hands full just understanding horses and struggling students. Some questions in life simply weren’t meant to be answered.

  Opening the anticipated novel, she read the first few lines. The hero was tall and handsome with dark hair, dark eyes, and of course the requisite chiseled features, strong arms, tight shirt. No matter how hard she tried to make a different image come to mind, every time the hero came on the scene, David popped into her mind. Maybe reading a book hadn’t been the best idea she had.

  ****

  “Esther, slow down.” DJ had already been on his way back to the station when his dispatcher had reached out to him, huffing about a stranger in town. That was not like Esther. Of all the people in his office she was usually the one who could keep the calm in the chaos. “What exactly did he say?”

  “I told you that three times already. He said ‘It’s just a courtesy call.’ I had my share of courtesy calls and they’re usually preceded by ‘I am officer so and so, from whatever city, and I’m here to report to the police chief, whatever.’” Under her breath she muttered, ‘Courtesy call my ass.’ “I’m telling you, this guy has something to hide. I don’t know who he is, or what he is, but he’s staying at your sister-in-law’s bed and breakfast. And I, for one, think it would behoove you to get your backside over there sooner rather than later.”

  The sense of urgency in Esther’s voice hadn’t eased up as she repeated the same information. He wasn’t sure about this one. His cop gut was keeping suspiciously quiet, but he trusted Esther’s gut. With his life if he had to. And especially with his sister-in-law’s life. “What about Reed? How far away is he?”

  “Now you’re thinking like a cop. And of course if he’d been closer, I’d have sent him. He’s not. The job is yours. So get moving.”

  For a split second, DJ felt he was the subordinate and Esther his superior. But he did as he was told. His father and aunt hadn’t raised any fools. “On my way.”

  Not ready to turn on the lights and sirens to fly through town for no darn good reason, he was perfectly willing to hit the gas pedal and perhaps bend a few minor speeding laws. Careful not to become a road hazard, he made it to Meg’s place considerably faster than he might have on a regular evening drive. Pulling into the driveway, he noticed the motorcycle parked by the curb wheels out. He checked the plates, taking note for later. Just in case.

  Especially aware of every inch of the surroundings as he approached the house, looking for any sign of something even slightly off thanks to the stranger in town, DJ hadn’t expected to reach the front door and hear the sound of laughter. Not till he blew out a relieved breath did he realize how much he’d come to trust Esther’s instincts. To the best of his memory Esther had never been one to overreact but, thankfully, that appeared to be just the case. This time.

  Opening the door DJ followed the amused voices to the kitchen. Meg stood by the sink, a tea kettle in hand, laughing so hard tears rolled down her cheeks. Adam stood off to the side holding a couple of coffee mugs that he’d pulled from the cupboard, a rumble from deep in his chest matched his wife’s. No wonder the sound of laughter had carried down the hall and through the front door. Seated at the large center island, his back to DJ, Esther’s stranger chuckled along with the others.

  DJ wasn’t all that sure who was telling the stories but he was willing to bet it was the guy whose face he’d yet to see. “Sounds like everybody’s having a good time without me.” He approached the is
land.

  “David here has been telling corny jokes.” Meg poured water into the two cups that Adam had set before her.

  Curious to see the guy’s face, DJ got a little closer. Before he could casually ease around for a better look, the man stood and turned, extending his hand to him. “I’m David Brubaker. How do you do?”

  DJ stood dumbfounded. David Brubaker? The guy held a straight face, looked him dead in the eye, didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. None of it made sense. DJ accepted the proffered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “David is just passing through.” Meg filled her own cup with hot water. “Wouldn’t mind if he were staying a few days. I’d love to have a repertoire of good jokes to share with the guests. It’s so hard to find cute clean jokes nowadays.”

  “I’ll be glad to leave a few written down before I go,” David said with a smile. “My grandfather loved telling stories. It’s fun to share them. Almost like having Grandpa here again.”

  “Oh that’s so nice,” Meg practically cooed before lifting up the coffee pot in DJ’s direction. “Would you like some tea or coffee, DJ?”

  He’d just finished a supersized cup of coffee before the call had come in from Esther, but he’d look pretty silly stopping by at this hour for no good reason. “Just what I needed. Thank you very much.” He pulled up a stool next to the stranger. Right height. Right build. Right face—wrong name.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The second that Meg and Adam disappeared from the kitchen, Dale knew he was in for a lot of explaining.

  Sure enough, DJ looked him straight in the face. “Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”