Wade rummaged through his bags on the porch while Meredith checked the freezer.Two steaks had thawed nicely, and there was a bag of half-frozen corn.She lit the burner to heat the cast-iron pan.The sizzle, or maybe the smell, brought Wade in.He held a flashlight that he must have brought from his truck.
“Hungry?”she asked.
“Starving.”
Meredith wasn’t going to deny him a hot meal after the hard work they’d done.Her instincts told her to be polite, stay neutral, and keep her distance.She expected him to sit and watch her cook, but he didn’t.After washing his hands at the sink, he found a can of lemonade concentrate in the freezer and made a pitcher of the drink.He set the table with the basics.Then he rifled around the storage cabinet for a candle, which he lit and placed in the center.Only then did he pull up a chair.
Meredith felt nervous about sitting across from him.The ambiance was oddly romantic.Now that he’d gone to the trouble, she couldn’t refuse.When the steaks were ready, she motioned for him to serve himself.She joined him after he filled a plate.Hunger warred with self-consciousness and won.
She didn’t try to make conversation as they ate.The meal was nothing fancy, but he seemed appreciative.He also finished every bite.
“Thank you,” he said.“That hit the spot.”
She nodded, sipping the cool lemonade.She’d switched off the lantern to save the battery.The last time she’d eaten by candlelight, she’d been in a Dallas restaurant with her ex.“How’s your head?”
“Better.”
“You said you’d signed on with the sheriff’s department.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell Wynona that?”
He drank from his own cup, contemplative.“She doesn’t want me here.”
“Since when?”
“We’ve never been close,” he admitted.
“What made you decide to come?”
He paused, and she thought he might decline to answer.Then he said, “The last time I visited, I found some pills in her purse.Hard stuff, not your typical painkillers.”
Meredith frowned at the news.
“She’s always been a heavy drinker.I worry about her… escalating.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” he said.“But I can’t do nothing.”
Meredith understood his perspective.Wade Hendricks was a take-action type.He couldn’t stand by and watch a disaster unfold.He had to get involved, to save the day.She predicted he would falter in his quest to rescue Wynona from herself, however.The woman was too stubborn to respond to strong-arm tactics.
“What kind of officer are you?”Meredith asked.
“I’m a deputy sheriff.”
“That’s your title?”
“First Deputy of Investigations.”
She tried to keep her face impassive, but it felt unnaturally stiff.He wasn’t some entry-level cop, fresh from the academy.He was a high-ranking official with investigative powers.She racked her brain for a normal follow-up question and came up empty.
He seemed intrigued by her silence.“What about you?”
“Me?”
“What did you do for a living before you came here?”
