Once I was out of her sight, I took a deep breath that felt like my first real one all day. I moved through the crowd carefully, mindful of my size and the way people sometimes startled when they turned and found me standing there. The crush of bodies would normally make me anxious, but today I welcomed it. The noise and movement made it easier to disappear, despite being taller than almost everyone else.
I passed stalls selling everything from handmade quilts to jars of local honey. The quilts caught my eye—bright patterns catching the sunlight, fabrics pieced together to make something new and beautiful.
At another table, a woman was selling soaps that smelled like lavender and cedar. The scents mixed with the sweet smell of fresh bread from Rosie's Bakery and the earthy aroma of vegetables from the farmers' stalls.
For a moment, I just stood still, letting it all wash over me. The sounds of people haggling and laughing. The kaleidoscope of colors from flowers and fabrics. The warmth of the sun on my skin. The simple joy of being on my own, even if just for a few minutes.
I hadn't seen where Deputy Dan had gone after the honey stand. The sheriff was still there, talking to the honey seller, but Dan had disappeared. I moved further into the market, past a display of carved wooden animals that reminded me of Knox's work, though not as finely detailed.
My time was running out. Ma would be looking for me soon, would maybe even send Pa to find me. The thought sent a little spike of panic through me, but I pushed it down. I was a grown man. I had every right to walk through the market by myself.
I just needed to find him. Just needed a few minutes to talk to him without Ma watching my every move like I might break if she blinked.
A strong hand clamped around my arm, yanking me sideways before I could even make a sound. My heart jumped into my throat as I was pulled into the narrow gap between Rosie's Bakery and the hardware store. Panic shot through me like lightning—I might be bigger than most folks, but being grabbed without warning still scared me something fierce.
I tensed up, ready to pull away, when I caught sight of familiar brown eyes looking up at me. Deputy Dan. Relief flooded through me so fast it made me dizzy.
"Deputy Dan," I whispered, his name coming out like a prayer. His hand was still on my arm, warm through the fabric of my shirt.
"Sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
The alley was barely wide enough for the two of us. Brick walls rose on either side, the smell of fresh bread from Rosie's mixing with the sharp scent of paint thinner from the hardware store. A sliver of blue sky showed overhead, but down here we were hidden from the busy market, from prying eyes. From Ma.
"You found me," I said, stating the obvious like I always did when I got nervous. "I didn't know if you were coming to the market today."
Dan's eyes scanned my face like he was memorizing it, or maybe looking for something. He was still holding my arm, his grip gentler now, but no less firm. "Your mother's made sure we couldn't talk," he said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Every time I've called the house this week, she's had some excuse why you couldn't come to the phone."
My stomach dropped. "She never told me you called."
Dan's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping along the side. "I figured as much."
He was standing so close I could smell that pine soap he used, could see the tiny scar above his right eyebrow where the stitches had been. His face was just inches from mine, close enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my eyes drifting to where his hand still held my arm. "Your ribs and all?"
"Getting there," he said, a small smile softening his expression. "Doctor says another week before I can go back on patrol. Just desk duty for now."
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. There were so many words jumbled up inside me, so many questions I wanted to ask. But having him this close made it hard to think straight.
"I've missed you something awful," I blurted out, the words tumbling free before I could stop them. My face immediatelyflushed hot, and I looked down at the ground between us, afraid to see his reaction.
For a long moment, there was only silence and the distant sounds of the market—voices calling out prices, children laughing, someone playing a fiddle now instead of a guitar. Then Dan's hand moved from my arm to my chin, gently tilting my face back up to meet his eyes.
"I've missed you too, big guy," he said softly. "More than you know."
The nickname made something warm unfurl in my chest. No one had ever called me that before—not in the way Dan did, like my size was something good, something he liked.
His hand dropped from my chin, but before I could miss the contact, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. His thumb pressed against the spot where my pulse beat hard and fast beneath my skin, like he was taking my measure through the rhythm of my blood.
"We need to talk, Harlow," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "About us. About what's happening between us."
Us. Such a small word to make my heart feel too big for my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "Ma says I don't understand," I admitted, the words bitter on my tongue. "Says I'm confused about my feelings."
Dan's expression hardened for a moment before softening into something that looked almost like tenderness. "Do you feel confused, Harlow?"
I shook my head. "No. Not about this."
"Neither do I," he said simply.
