Unlike Sam, who’d grown without his father.
“Yes.” His jaw flexed, and he seemed to weigh his words. “But no one takes a mother’s place.”
The words hinted at a wealth of unspoken hurt, making Amy ache for the child he’d been.
Not sure what to say, she reached to squeeze his wrist. Just a brief touch to indicate that she understood. Sam wasn’t the kind of man who revealed his emotions lightly, and she wanted him to know she appreciated him letting her in—if only for a moment. Too bad the glimpse he’d given her made her more wary than ever about getting involved with him.
“True.” She cleared her throat, allowing her thoughts to stray to her own mother and their lack of relationship for the last ten years. That had been a unique hurt that never went away. “And for what it’s worth, I do realize that this is none of my business. It wasn’t my place to ask about any of it.”
Because no matter that she and Sam had just re-created their first kiss out on that old bridge today, they weren’t going to pursue a relationship, and she wouldn’t be staying in town any longer than it took to heal the family rift and renovate the cabin.
“I don’t mind you asking me tough questions.” His forthrightness had been something she’d admired about him long ago. He might be quiet, but he’d never been secretive—aside from his disappearance, which he’d now explained.
“No?” She found it difficult to meet his level gaze, more confused than ever about where they stood with one another.
“Not at all. I’m going to keep asking you tough questions until I find out what you’re hiding. So it’s only fair you put me on the spot sometimes, too. Keeps us even.”
With a few concise words, he’d made it crystal clear to her. He wouldn’t stop looking for witnesses to testify against Jeremy Covington.
But for better or worse, she hadn’t seen the face of the man behind The Incident. So as far as she was concerned, she didn’t have anything else to tell him.
“Is that why you brought me to the cop shop with you?” She pointed to the town hall and sheriff’s office. “To interrogate me about whatever it is you think I’m hiding?”
“Hardly.” He retrieved his phone and pocketed it. “I need to file paperwork about what just happened at the school and how we dropped the ball with J.D. I spoke to the principal in the parking lot, and she assured me J.D.’s mother took him home before lunchtime after the uproar he caused.”
“Seems weird how Tiffany McCord was in jail this morning and now Covington’s wife will take her place tonight.” The argument on school grounds had rattled Amy, bringing back ugly memories of her own disputes with her mother.
One quarrel in particular had made her mother so angry she’d turned the same shade of red that the social-studies teacher had today.
“Kate Covington is not going to jail. She’ll get an appearance ticket and be back home in no time. But it will be a good chance to ask her some questions. I’ll let Linda Marquette talk to her until Kate cools down—she’s got alighter touch than I do.” He pointed to the uniformed officer pulling up to the building now. The same one who’d arrived at the school just before they left. “I should go give her a heads-up on details of what shook down. But I can arrange someone to give you a ride home if you wait a minute.”
“That’s okay.” She’d been avoiding downtown Heartache long enough. “I’ll walk over to Erin’s store. I haven’t seen her or the shop yet, and it’s time.”
A furrow in his brow deepened. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll be fine.” She could use a walk to clear her head, a little time away from the attraction growing between them all over again.
“Let me get your door.”
As he exited the driver’s side, she gathered her purse and checked her face in the flip-down visor. She felt an odd flutter of nerves at the idea of walking down Main Street, where anyone could see her. At least her mother stuck close to home, so she didn’t have to worry about running into Diana Finley unexpectedly.
But there was always that uncertainty that the man who’d haunted her nightmares could still be free. That was, if Sam had locked up the wrong man and the real bastard who’d tried to hurt Gabriella still lurked out there. A man Sam was working hard to keep behind bars.
Still, Amy felt for her pepper spray in her bag as Sam opened the passenger door. Stepping onto the truck’s running board, she moved the spray to an exterior pocket where she could reach it easily.
Sam shook his head as he shut the door behind her.
“What?” She smoothed her dress straight, wondering about his expression.
“Just trying to guess why you need a personal armory inthat bag of yours.” He nodded at the purse, where only the cap of the spray was visible.
How had he guessed?
Then again, it shouldn’t surprise her that he’d be an observant man. He’d been on the police force in San Jose for years before moving back to Tennessee. No doubt he’d had to stay on his toes in a bigger city like that.
“Doesn’t hurt to be safe.” How many other things had he seen or guessed about her that she thought she’d kept hidden?
“Can’t argue with that.” He held up his phone as he backed up a step. “Call me if you want a lift afterward. I should be done in an hour or two.”
