by Lucy Score
Her name was Melinda Leigh. Melly for short. I remembered the birth announcement delivered to the police station. There was a welcome wall that we pinned all the baby pictures to. My father liked to say he and his deputies knew everyone in town from birth on.
Because they were family. We were family.
“Please! Please!” Melly’s mama sobbed. Sybil Crabapple, at least she had been until she married Cody Wyatt a few years back. They’d gone through fertilization treatments for three years before being blessed with little Melly.
She couldn’t be more than four months old.
“Everybody back up a step. Give Cass some room,” Scarlett ordered shooing everyone back before hunkering down next to Sybil and wrapping the woman in a hard hug.
“Ambulance is six minutes out,” Mrs. Morganson said, holding her phone to her ears.
“Goddammit.” I shed my jacket. Six minutes was infinity when there was no oxygen. “Stay on the line with the dispatcher,” I told Mrs. Morganson. “Someone call Cody for Sybil.”
As quick as I could, I unzipped Melly’s powder pink snowsuit. Shout Tap. My training kicked in as I called Melly’s name and tapped her shoulder. No response. I freed one of her tiny feet from the suit and flicked it. Nothing. No breath.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Sybil was silent now, tears rolling down her cheeks, hands clasped under her chin as Scarlett rocked with her on the sidewalk.
It was up to me and the man upstairs. And I was gonna do everything in my power to make sure Melly got whatever was in her stocking from Santa. Thirty compressions. One, two, three…
I could feel the crowd around us growing, could hear the growing concern, but my focus was Melly and her blue lips.
Thirty.
I stopped, checked for breath. Nothing. Nothing. Ten seconds of nothing.
I delivered two rescue breaths. God, it was so different doing this on an actual human baby instead of the weird dolls we certified on. I was infusing her with my breath, my prayers, every fucking ounce of hope I had left in my body. Please, Melly. Please, God.
“You got this, Cass,” someone whispered tearfully above me.
It was raining tears in this tiny circle. A half-dozen hands rested on Sybil’s back and shoulders. I heard a commotion. Cody was here. But it was time to count again.
Thirty compressions. One, two, three… I never took my eyes off Melly’s face. Nothing in this world existed but me, her, and my desire to see her take a breath. It was hard and fast. Was it too hard? Was it fast enough? Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.
I was sweating. It was running down my back. Steaming off my head.
“I’ll spell you if you need it,” Scarlett said. She was the calm in the center of a circle of fear.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
Two rescue breaths. Gentle. Goddammit. Why didn’t we have AEDs in storefronts?
Wait! Was that—
“She took a breath!” someone hovering above me said, confirming what I thought I saw.
I leaned down, listening.
“Shut the hell up, everyone!” Scarlett ordered, and I swear the entire town held its breath with me.
A second later Melly gave a little gasp followed by another. In another second, she was shrieking and crying like she’d just been born. A roar went up around me, and Sybil and Cody were sobbing all over their beautiful, breathing baby girl. I could hear the sirens now, feel the pats on my back.
But all I saw were little Melly’s teary brown eyes.
This was why I was here. To serve my town, my family.
I sat down on the concrete, and someone draped my coat over my shoulders. I needed a drink and a hug. A pair of boots approached me, and then someone was crouching down in front of me.
Bowie.
I don’t know if he pulled me or if I climbed right in. But I was wrapped up tight in his arms, and everything felt a little bit better.
65
Bowie
I shadowed Cassidy while she gave her report to the EMTs. Sybil climbed up into the back of the ambulance, and Cody followed behind in their car with his mama and Sybil’s sister. There was another round of “nice jobs” and “real prouds” as Cassidy worked her way through the crowd.
She was exhausted. I could tell by the slump of her shoulders, the shadows under her eyes.
I took her arm and led her through the throng of people. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She rolled her shoulders. “I’ll be better when we hear for sure Melly’s all right.” Cassidy shook her head. “That was the scariest moment of my entire life.”
“You were amazing,” I told her. She was. I’d come running with half of the rest of town. But while everyone was watching the baby and sending up prayers, I watched Cassidy. She was a hero. A real-life hero. Some people were made to do this job. She was one of them.
“Just doing my job,” she said lightly. “Well, my ex-job. I don’t have a job now.”
“Cass, we need to talk.”
She stopped mid-stride. “We sure do. But if you try to break up with me now, I will never, ever forgive you, Bowie Bodine. I’m amped up on adrenaline right now and I won’t be held accountable for my actions. I have a speech prepared.”
I slipped my arm around her waist and hauled her up against my side.
She rested her head on my chest, and for the first time in days I felt like everything was going to be okay.
“I am not breaking up with you. You’re gonna have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.”
“You disappeared on me,” she said sadly.
“I’ve been real busy working on my grand apology,” I told her.
She straightened away from me. “No, sir. No way. I’m apologizing first.”
I laughed and reeled her back in. “Let’s grab a coffee and then we’ll both apologize.”
She let me steer her into Yee Haw, and I relished being out in public with her. I ordered two coffees, keeping my arm tight around her waist.
“On the house for Baby Melly,” the barista said. “You’re a goddamn hero, Cassidy Ann Tucker.” The clientele around us exploded into raucous applause, and I worried I’d pop the buttons right off my shirt with pride. My girl.
“Nice to see y’all not necking in an alley for a change,” Old Judge Carwell said, tipping his hat at us as he wandered by with his chai latte.
Cass shot me a look.
“So it seems like our secret relationship wasn’t very secret,” I confessed.
“Even Connelly knew,” she sighed. “Which reminds me.” She handed me her coffee and patted her pockets until she pulled out a stack of note cards.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m apologizing.” She studied the first card. “Okay. Hi, Bowie. Thanks for agreein’ to see me.”
“I found you on the sidewalk giving CPR to a baby.”
“Shh!” she shushed me. “Don’t make me lose my place.” She cleared her throat, skimming the card. I steered us back outside. We had a very important place to be.
“Okay. Um. I owe you an apology. Several in fact.” She flipped the card, and I tugged her down the block.
“You’re doing real good, honey,” I told her.
“Thanks. I’m sorry for setting us up to fail. For being too scared to get hurt to trust you fully.”
“You’re forgiven.”
She looked up at me and scowled. “You can’t forgive me yet. I’m not done apologizing.”
“My apologies. Please continue.”
“I’m sorry for not trusting you and then dragging you into a personally damaging situation without realizing how it would hurt you.”
“That’s real nice, Cass.”
“Thanks! Juney helped me with it a little.”
Clay Larkin, Leah Mae’s daddy, spotted us and made a beeline for Cassidy.
“Cassidy Tucker, I heard about what you did for Baby Melly. Brace yourself because you’re about to get hugged.”
I grabbed her coffee just before Clay lifted her six inches off the sidewalk. Three notecards slipped out of her grasp and floated to the ground. His fiancée, Betsy, clapped and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
“Honey, you made us all real proud. Real proud,” Betsy said when Clay returned Cassidy to the sidewalk. She leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And y’all are the sweetest couple. We’re so happy for you.”
Cassidy turned a pretty shade of pink. “Thanks. Uh. Thank you.”
Betsy looked at me and surreptitiously tapped her watch. I nodded.
“C’mon, Cass. We’ve got places to be.”
“We do?” she asked. I handed her coffee back and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“Hang on. I’ve got more to say.” She peered down at her cards and cleared her throat. “For not banging on Gibson’s door and demanding you tell me the truth all those years ago. Huh. I think my cards got shuffled.”
“Still sounds real good,” I told her. She was so busy looking at her notes, she didn’t notice the crowd forming around the police station’s front door.
“I also owe you an apology for agreeing to be in a temporary, secret relationship with you because—what the hell is going on?”
At that moment a minivan blazed up the street and squealed to a stop in front of the station. The passenger doors opened, and the elderly of Bootleg Springs started pouring out onto the sidewalk. Walkers and oxygen tanks were handed out to their owners. Behind the wheel, Estelle slipped her driving gloves off and gave me a flirty wave.
“Uh, Bowie? What’s going on?”
“You had your apology. I’ve got mine.”
66
Bowie
A woman significantly younger than the rest of the minivan’s occupants disembarked looking a little shell-shocked. She wore a wool coat over a simple black pantsuit. No nonsense, professional.
“Right this way, lieutenant,” Granny Louisa said, opening the police station door with a grand flourish.
“Lieutenant?” Cassidy hissed. “You kidnapped a state trooper?” She looked a little pale.
“We did no such felonizing,” Gram-Gram snorted. “She wanted to come with us.”
“Scout’s honor,” Estelle said, making an x over her heart.
“Come on,” I told her and led her into the station at the end of the elderly parade. The rest of the crowd slowly filed in.
“Cass!” Bex threw herself at Cassidy and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I just heard from Sybil. She said to tell you Melly is a-okay and you’re an angel.”
Cassidy’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered.
“What the hell is going on here?” an angry voice snapped out over the general din. Connelly, looking six shades of pissed off, poked his head out of the conference room door.
“Exactly what I’d like to know,” the woman in the suit said coolly. “It’s come to my attention that your investigation has been less than exemplary here.”
“Lieutenant Garza,” Connelly said with a nod. “There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding.”
“When six members of a community you are supposed to be serving show up at my precinct with a laundry list of complaints regarding your behavior, you better hope there’s a misunderstanding.”
“I want to be her when I grow up,” Cassidy whispered in my ear. She had hearts in her eyes.
Connelly was sputtering, and I saw Sheriff Tucker’s mustache twitch as he fought a smile.
“Let’s take this into the conference room,” the lieutenant suggested. “Ladies and gentlemen, Detective Connelly, Sheriff Tucker, and I would be happy to listen to your complaints one at a time.”
“He’s turning that eggplant color again,” Fanny Sue said gleefully, nodding at Connelly’s face.
They trooped into the conference room and closed the door.
Dazed, Cassidy turned to me. “Did you somehow orchestrate all this?”
But her friends and fans demanded her attention. She was pulled from my arms and passed from person to person for hugs and handshakes. For congratulations on our relationship and kudos for everything from her lifesaving skills to her neat handwriting on traffic citations. There were fifty bodies squashed inside with more waiting out front.
One by one, citizens entered the conference room and faced down Connelly, addressing their concerns and complaints. All standing for one of their own.
I loved this weird and wonderful town, and for the first time since Callie’s sweater showed up, I felt like I belonged again.
“I feel dizzy,” Cassidy said, wrapping her arms around my waist. She’d been passed clear around the station.
“I’ve got you,” I promised her.
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” she said, her voice cracking as she looked at the line of people waiting to tell their tales on Connelly.
“We did it for you,” I insisted. “You think I would have come up with the elder council kidnapping a lieutenant on my own?”
Cassidy laughed and squeezed me tighter. “I’m so happy I could burst.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Me, too, Cass. Me, too.”
The conference room door opened, and Connelly burst forth. His face was a mask of rage. He zeroed in on Cassidy and pushed his way through the crowd. I stood next to her, my arm around her shoulder so she knew I had her back. I wanted him to do something stupid so I could break his fucking face. It had been a long time since I’d punched anyone over Cassidy.
But he just glared, nostrils flaring. Cassidy was cooler than an ice cube under his gaze.
“That will be all, detective,” Lieutenant Garza said from the conference room doorway.
One more flare, a twitch of his right eye, and he was pushing out of the station, barking at people to get out of his way.
Cassidy vibrated under my touch, and I knew her well enough to know it was cold fury, not fear that had her clenching her hands into fists.
The lieutenant weaved her way through the crowd to us.
“Deputy, I’ve never known someone so young to command so much respect in their community. It would be a travesty if you weren’t back at your desk immediately.” She held out Cassidy’s service weapon and badge. “Please accept my formal apology for Detective Connelly’s behavior.”
Sheriff Tucker stood behind the lieutenant, looking downright verklempt. Nadine slipped up next to him and wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist. I saw what they had together decades into their partnership and I wanted it fiercely.
“Thank you, lieutenant,” Cassidy said, accepting her gear like it was an autograph from a country star. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
The lieutenant cracked her first smile. “Tomorrow’s Christmas. Why don’t you take the day? We’ll see you on the twenty-sixth. I have a forensics lab to talk to about a car.”
Cassidy nodded and then kept nodding. “Thank you, sir. Ma’am. Lieutenant.”
“It looks like you’ve got some fans,” the lieutenant said, nodding toward the windows.
There were faces of all ages pressed up against the glass.
“Guess I’m calling the window cleaners again,” Bex joked.
“Go on, Cass,” Sheriff Tucker said. “Tell ‘em the good news.”
Cassidy tucked her holster into the waistband of her pants and held her hand out to me. “Comin’, Bow?”
I took her hand and followed her outside. The clouds were heavy with snow yet to fall, but the cold couldn’t fight its way through the crowd.
Without saying a word, Cassidy held up her badge, and the crowd lost its damn mind hooting and hollering.
She looked over her shoulder at me, and I couldn’t not be kissing her for another second. I pulled her to me and brought my mouth to hers. It sounded to me that the din of the crowd got even louder.
This was right where we belonged. Surrounded by Bodines and Tuckers and Bootleg. I saw my brothers and sister in the crowd celebrating right along with the rest of
them. This was the beginning of something beautiful, something forever.
“I love you, Bowie. This sure beats a pair of pajamas.”
I grinned down at her. “I’d do anything for you. I love you, Cassidy Ann. And someday not too far into the future I’m going to put a ring on your finger.”
“I’ve loved you since forever, Bowie Bodine. We’re gonna make one hell of a team.”
The snow fell soft and quiet, and I kissed her hard and hungry.
“Did y’all see Scarlett hit that Shelby with a snowball?”
“One second we’re all standing there, watching Cassidy and Bowie makin’ out, and then Scarlett’s yelling ‘Back away Jonah! You’re fraternizing with the enemy!’”
“Poor guy. That Shelby flirted him up good.”
“Never would have guessed that sweet thing was a journalist. Just goes to show you, you can’t trust a friendly stranger.”
“Have to admit, she held up real well when Scarlett tried to scratch her eyes out.”
“That Devlin’s got quick reflexes when it comes to his girlfriend. He caught Scarlett mid-air.”
“Rumor has it Shelby didn’t move out of the B&B. In fact, she ordered room service. I think she’s planning to stick around.”
“Takes guts.”
“Wonder where Jonah will live now since the lovebirds will probably want to spread out in their nest?”
Epilogue
Cassidy
“Wait!” Bowie waved his hands in front of me as I teed up with the sledgehammer. “How do we know you’re not going to hit some kind of plumbing or electrical?”
“Because your sister already did some exploratory hole poking. That’s why there’s a big ol’ X on the wall,” I explained patiently.
I eyed up Mr. Bodine. He was studying the plaster wall over his second cup of coffee. His pajama pants, a black and red-checkered lumberjack pattern, hung low on his hips. The untied drawstring was mighty distracting.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” I cocked my hip, resting the sledgehammer on my shoulder.
