Chapter Two
Denver
Denver Grant kept his easy smile pasted on as he finished with his deposit, but inside rage bubbled. Though Sophie was tightlipped about her ex-husband, he knew enough to determine early on that guy was a special kind of awful. It took a coldhearted man to abandon not only his wife, but his daughter as well.
Theonething that seemed to make the whole miserable ordeal tolerable for Sophie, however, was the monthly check.
In a bank this small, it was impossible not to overhear the customer next to you. Denver was thankful no one else was inside to hear that the check bounced. He loved Sunset Ridge, but the small town had an uncanny ability to spread rumors quicker than a forest fire.
Sophie’d been counting on this month’s check. She rarely spent a dime of that stipend on herself. Everything was for her daughter’s benefit.
Her ex was a surgeon, for crying out loud. He was giving Sophie and Caroline far less than they deserved for what he’d done to them. If Blake Kassels ever had the audacity to show up in Sunset Ridge, Denver’s brother Ryder might have to arrest him, for Denver would surely clock the guy.
“You running the Moose Days marathon?” the teller asked Denver as she waited for his check to process through the magnetic check scanner. Sheila, he thought? His uncle was old-school, didn’t believe in computers and direct deposit, requiring Denver to come in with his paychecks instead. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember this woman’s name from week to week.
“Nah, not this year.” He spied her nameplate then, and added, “Sheila.”
He’d been running with Sophie on occasion, mostly for three- or four-mile legs on the longer runs. But his days of competing were over. The time he’d spent training he now wanted for writing. His growing reader base would argue the same.
His fictional hero, Detective Malcom Yates, was born during a deployment in Afghanistan. Denver’d always dabbled with the idea of writing a book, but during his time overseas he finally took it seriously and completed his first full novel. Stateside, a few months later, and several rounds of editing done, Denver published with low expectations. He’d have been over the moon to sell ten copies. Much to his surprise, the book exploded and demands for more flooded his inbox.
“You’d win for sure. I bet you’re a fast runner with your Army background,” Annie chimed in from one station over.
Dad had served twenty years, retiring in Alaska when Denver was only eight. He had few memories of living in any other state. Alaska was home. When his dad passed away two weeks after Denver’s college graduation, he joined the Army in his honor. Or, at least, Denver had hidden behind that reason for years.
But really, he hadn’t known any other way to grieve than to get as far away as possible.
He suspected both tellers were flirting with him, but he didn’t take the bait. Sophie Whitmore was the one who had his heart, whether she knew it or not. “Got another book due next week. Plus, I think my mom might have me roped into helping with a parade float.”
“Doesn’t leave you a lot of free time, does it?” Sheila asked, making him more eager to get out the door. These two weren’t the only ones in town who’d hinted at interest in dating him.Maybe I should look into mobile check deposits, he pondered. But in a town this size, he’d surely run into these ladies other places anyway.
His brother, among others, thought Denver was wasting his time on a woman who’d never see him as more than a friend, but he didn’t care. It was Sophie, or it was no one. “Got my deposit slip?” he asked, hoping to hurry things along.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Denver folded it and stuffed the slip into his wallet as he headed for the door. Though instinct had demanded he run after Sophie the second she left, she’d need a couple of minutes to compose herself. They’d been friends—close friends—for over a year now. He recognized the moments when she needed to be alone better than her own sisters.
Denver searched both sides of the street but his scan found only empty benches and a high school kid loading groceries into the back seat of Geraldine Franks’ Buick. He wondered if she’d gone for a latte down the block and around the corner. Though she rarely drank coffee on training days, today might be an exception.
Leaving his truck unlocked in case she came back, he made his way to Black Bear Coffee. If Sophie wasn’t in the shop, he’d pick her up a latte and hopefully meet her in front of the bank. He had to keep busy, because standing idle only gave him time to stew.
Sophie deserved a man who’d capture the moon for her. But with the emotional scar her ex left behind, she didn’t believe she did. If it killed Denver, one day he’d prove to her that she was worthy of a love time would lie down and be still for. She only had to believe it for herself.
“Run out of coffee in your writing cave?” Denver was so spooled up in Sophie’s situation he hadn’t noticed his younger brother Ryder approaching the coffee shop, decked out in his police uniform and gun belt. Ryder’s question took him by surprise.
“Just running an errand,” Denver answered. He held the door open for Ryder and followed in behind him. A quick scan of the store revealed Sophie wasn’t there, which was just as well. He didn’t feel like snide comments from his well-meaning brother.
“Officer Grant, what can I get you?” the barista behind the counter asked.
“Large French roast.” Ryder made a quick scan of the store. They had that in common, always aware of their surroundings. Denver from his time in the Army, Ryder from his law enforcement training. “I got his too.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Denver said to the barista, but she stared at him in confusion. “I need two. I can get it myself,” he said to Ryder. He waited for the jab about Sophie to follow. It always did.
Ryder shook his head at Denver. “When’re you going to get it? She’ll never be more than your friend.”
“Should I—” The barista didn’t quite know what to ask as her gaze bounced between the brothers.
Ryder let out a heavy, disapproving sigh. “Yes, I’m gettingbothof his.”
