And he’s the one who shook me out of the fog and told me I didn’t have to believe I could be a parent, I just had to do it. He convinced me I was man enough to be a dad to those two little girls, and I’ll owe him for the rest of my life. When I was scared out of my mind I’d mess them up, he shook me out of it and believed for me.
With time, and therapy, and a huge support system, I started believing it myself.
I just haven’t quite let go of the guilt that burned its way into me those first twenty-four hours when I thought aboutnottaking the girls.
The biggest regret I had about leaving North Carolina and my life on active duty was leaving Mac and the other people who’d loved Julia and Brad. But the tradeoff was coming here to grandparents and aunts and uncles and a small town who love them like their own. Because they are.
Soon, he’ll be back. Eighteen months is nothing in the scheme of things.
“Everything okay, Sheriff?”
My heart kicks at the sound of her voice and I turn to see Sam smiling up at me.
“Better now.”
Her brows arch in surprise and she presses her lips together to stay what I just know would be a gloriously big smile. “Anything I can do?”
It’s cheesy, but damn if it isn’t true. “You’re doing it.”
She huffs a laugh and shakes her head. “Right. Well, I’m glad I saw you. I wanted to thank you again for dinner.”
I don’t make the conscious choice to step closer to her, but there go my feet. One step, two, until I stop just inches from her and it’s not the way someone would stand next to a friend. “My pleasure.”
Maybe my voice dropped low. Again, it wasn’t a choice.
She swallows. “I—I think we should talk sometime soon. Maybe after Thursday?”
“Yes. Let’s get through that meeting and then you say the word and we’ll talk.” I want to reach out and brush the hair out of her eyes. I want to touch her face, be close to her, and have time with her.
But we’re standing on Main, and Janice Wilkers and Hilda Dance are watching from across the street, plus I’m pretty sure Diego’s got the blinds split so he can see out the window over my shoulder better.
“Okay. I’ve got to get back, but I saw you over here and wanted to say hi.” A pretty blush deepens the color on her cheeks.
“I’m glad you did. See you Thursday.”
She gives me one last small smile and walks on. I turn and shoot Diego a glare seconds before he pulls the blinds closed as though he can pretend I didn’t see him spying. I can hear his giggle from here.
I’m about to walk into that building and catch hell for talking to Sam, but I don’t even care. Because she showed up at the perfect time, pulling me out of the sinking sensation I always get when I talk to Mac and feel like things went sideways even though our conversation seemed perfectly normal.
There’s something niggling at me. It’s a splinter stuck into the pad of my finger, or something out of place I can’t identify. But it must be Mac and the distance between us.
So I focus on Sam, and how she’s given me plans to make and much happier things to think about.
But first, I’ve got to go deal with that little sneak Diego.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Sam
The weather continues to be absolutely gorgeous, and my mood brightens by the day. I didn’t realize how dark the end of winter can be here until we started getting sunny days and even slightly warmer weather, but now I definitely see a correlation. I am blissful in this true spring air.
Granted, overall, life has gotten better by the day, too. I spent the morning helping May and Georgia Sullivan organize books and stock the mobile library they lovingly call the Book Bus. It’s a vehicle someone made so that when the doors on the sides and back open, they reveal rows of books slotted on lovely forest green shelves that occupy the entire interior. The exterior is painted in vibrant shades of green ranging from lime to nearly black dark green, with a bright white logo that says Book Bus across the sides and back in a cheery font.
It's adorable, and the premise is even better. They drive the bus around to different neighborhoods outside of town in the more rural areas and give away books. It’s not even a true library because they don’t require registration or returns—they simply give away books to kids who want them. They have adult fiction and nonfiction books available, too.
It has made me even more determined to figure out how to expand the library here. If these people had a budget and didn't have to rely on donations, they could do even more. I’ll have to ask Grant if he has any ideas.
Evie sits on a bench in the middle of the park in her business casual clothes she wears to work. They don’t look like her at all, but I guess it’s what the practice wants the receptionists to wear, so whatever works.
