Page 8 of Forever Gone

“I was excited when she took the position to set up the new FBI field office in Harlan,” Connor continued. “It made sense. She knows the area. She’s good at the work. The sheriff’s department can use someone with federal resources close by.”

“That sounds like something you’d say at a county meeting.”

Connor glanced toward him. “I mean it.”

He nodded.

The room’s old clock marked the seconds from the wall.

“Once she actually moved back, I don’t know.” Connor pressed his palms together. “I guess it made everything real.”

Robert nodded slowly.

Selena’s return had changed the shape of ordinary places. Connor found himself on edge, worried he would run into her. Each call from an unfamiliar federal number tightened something in his chest before he answered. Even the station carried her presence now, though she did not work from there.

For years, distance had helped him keep their marriage contained in the past. Washington was far enough away to become an idea. Selena living ten minutes from his house was different.

Robert leaned forward and tapped the back of Connor’s hand. “You and Selena are the past. You should get on with living.”

Connor sat back. “I am living.”

“You’re working. There’s a difference. Family, friends, that’s what’s really important.”

“I have friends.”

Robert let out a small laugh. “Deputies don’t count if you sign their paychecks.”

“I don’t sign their checks.”

“You know what I mean, Connor.”

Connor reached for his hat, then remembered he was indoors and left it where it was.

Robert settled into his chair again. “What about that lovely Cheryl at the sheriff’s station?”

“Don’t you start.”

“I’m not prying. She seems pleasant. Easy on the eye, too.”

Connor caught sight of a photograph on a small table in the corner. Selena at eighteen, a sight he had never forgotten. “You sound just like my mother, Bobby.”

“Your mother’s a sensible woman.”

“My mother tried to arrange a date for me at a funeral, once.”

Robert gave him a sympathetic nod that fooled neither of them. “She means well.”

“I know. So do you. That’s why I’m asking you to stop rather than telling you.”

“Okay,” Robert said with a slight groan. “But women like Cheryl won’t keep calling once your looks start fading. You’re in your forties now. And trust me. They go faster than you think.”

Connor shook his head. Cheryl kept much of the station running while the deputies created paperwork faster than she could file it. She was kind, capable, and entirely undeserving of being recruited into Robert and his mother’s campaign to repair Connor’s personal life.

“Would you like some coffee?” Robert asked. “I’m sure Diane can rustle up some breakfast.”

“I already ate, but I’ll take coffee.”

Robert turned his head toward the hall and raised his voice.