“Not today, ma’am.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Kinley called over her shoulder before she disappeared inside.
Ryder backed away from the porch toward his patrol car, but Fiona caught him before he reached the door. “Why don’t you come inside? I made a fresh pitcher of iced tea. Would hate for it to go to waste.”
“Are you supposed to be doing all that?” Ryder nodded at her sequin-lined sling.
“Pish posh. It’s healing just fine. Come in before the mosquitoes eat us all.”
The last time he stepped foot in Fiona’s cabin, Kinley had received terrible news. The day marked the end of their friendship. Entering now felt more like a violation than a welcome visit. Ryder willed a call to come in, even the cranky Johnson brothers. They were overdue for a daily complaint. “I better not. Still on duty—”
“Chief, you’re always on duty. Do youevertake a day off?”
“Took off last Saturday,” he admitted, relenting and following Fiona inside. It was all familiar—the couch on the same wall, the kitchen tucked in the back, the cramped loft above an office area. The ladder leading to it needed repairing.
“Your brother’s wedding doesnotcount as a day off.” An orange tabby cat hissed at Ryder from the opposite side of the cramped living room as the door closed behind him. The cat never dropped eye contact with Ryder as it backed up behind the couch, out of sight. “Don’t mind him. Pickles hates everyone at first.”
Ryder’s trained eyes discreetly scanned the small cabin for signs of Kinley, but he was certain she’d retreated into her room. They were good friends when they were younger, before her mother died and Kinley’s life turned sideways.
“Sit down, sit down,” Fiona ordered, moving about the kitchen and pulling glasses from the cupboard with practiced ease. She didn’t seem hindered in the slightest with only one arm. “Do you like sugar in your tea?”
Unable to admit he didn’t like tea at all, he said, “The way it is now is just fine, thanks.” Plain was easier to stomach than all that sugary stuff.
He checked his phone once to see if Liam sent an update or if the dispatcher needed anything. The two Johnson brothers had been feuding on a daily basis for the past two weeks. Ryder wondered what complaint Martin would raise today. They’d been kind enough to take turns.
“It must be nice to have Kinley visiting.” Ryder dropped his phone into his shirt pocket as Fiona set a full glass in front of him.
“She’s come back to help me out while my wrist is all busted up.” Kinley might have her aunt fooled, but Ryder suspected her true motives in returning to town lie somewhere else. He shouldn’t care, but since the first time he spotted Kinley downtown just before Denver’s wedding last Saturday, he couldn’t seem to leave the thought alone.
“Surprised she had time,” Ryder said, shamefully fishing.
Fiona eased into a chair and took a generous sip from her glass. “The Army does keep her quite busy. I doubt I’ll see her much when she heads off to flight school. I’m happy to have her back, even if only for a couple weeks.”
“Kinley’ll be a pilot, then?” Ryder raked his gaze down the hall, catching the end of a blonde ponytail disappearing through a door.
“Hard to believe some days, isn’t it? The same Kinley who used to—”
Ryder’s phone chimed in his pocket. It was anyone’s guess who it might be—Liam, the feuding Johnson twins, or a citizen complaining about the wildlife raiding their garden. Sunset Ridge had no lack of excitement.
“Is that Liam?” Fiona asked.
Ryder did his best to hide the sigh as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Martin Johnson, right on time. “No. Got to answer a call.” He hated to leave Kinley to walk back to her car, though he wasn’t as sad to leave behind the overly sweet tea. “I can drop the keys off with Liam,” he offered. “No point in one of you walking back out there. Mosquitoes are thirsty today.”
“That’d be lovely.” Fiona leaned toward him across the table. Lowering her voice, she asked, “What did she run into?”
The words nearly escaped before Ryder pulled them back. “I’ll save the pleasure of telling that story for Kinley. I’d hate to spoil her fun.” He felt the glare sizzle into his back from down the hall.
Everyone reassured Ryder that in time he’d forgive Mercedes for leaving him standing in front of a filled church. That he’d let go of his bitterness, move on. In two years, this was the first time he held any hope they were right. He couldn’t remember the last time he fought so hard to hold in laughter. Telling Fiona to ask her niece—knowing Kinley would’ve heard it—felt oddly . . .amusing.
The orange tabby hissed at him again as Fiona led Ryder to the front door. Apology lingered in her eyes, no doubt for Kinley’s disappearance. “Thanks again, Ryder. You’re a good man.”
“Of course.” Ryder gave a nod, and added no more. His gaze lingered on the deserted hallway but redirected to the log ladder leading to the loft. It bothered him that it was missing one wrung and two others were broken. “You should really get that fixed.”
“Been meaning to get around to it.” Fiona lifted her sling in explanation.
“I can bring over my drill,” Ryder offered, unsure when he’d find the time. But one ladder had already caused Fiona grief. No need for another avoidable accident.
“That would be just lovely, Ryder. Thank you. I’ll make you dinner,” Fiona offered.
