Heartbreak Cove (Sanctuary Island) (RE8) (12 page)

“You can’t,” the kid countered, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have a job. That’s how you make money. You can’t just stay home and hang out with a dumb kid all day.”

Swift and graceful, Andie crouched to put herself at Caitlin’s level. “Don’t ever call yourself a dumb kid,” she said fiercely. “And don’t act like you don’t matter. You matter very much to me. In fact—I’m going to do whatever I can to spend as much time with you as possible. Even if it means I need to take some time off my job to do it.”

Caitlin’s eyes were wide and wary as she shrugged one more time, but when Andie reached out tentative arms to enfold the kid in a hug, Caitlin didn’t squirm out of her grasp. She stood quietly and let herself be hugged. Andie didn’t see the way Caitlin closed her eyes and smiled as she rested her head on Andie’s shoulder for a brief moment, but Sam did.

The glow of satisfaction warmed him from the inside out. These two were going to be fine. And he couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, if Andie took a break from being Sheriff Shepard, it might be easier for her to come to grips with Sam’s secrets.

“Come on, ladies,” he said as they broke apart and Andie got to her feet. “I was promised a fried chicken dinner.”

“And fried chicken you shall have.” Andie’s bright, beaming smile lit up the night. “Caitlin, what are you hungry for?”

It was an odd feeling for Sam, walking up the steps to the homey little restaurant with a vulnerable child and a beautiful woman at his side. They weren’t his to protect or cherish, but Sam felt those urges anyway. He wasn’t sure if it was something about this woman and this kid or maybe it was this lovely island that always made Sam achingly aware of the possibility of a different kind of life.

Maybe it was the wild salt breeze and the careening constellations of stars overhead, the new moon over the water, or the boisterous noise and light spilling from the caf
é
, but Sam felt an unfamiliar optimism breaking through the hard-caked soil and taking root in his heart.

It was heady and exciting, thrumming through his blood with the same primal beat as the unsated desire that rekindled every time he look at Andie. And it lasted exactly until the moment they opened the caf
é
door and stepped inside to see a crowd of cheering folks under a white banner that read
NASH TUCKER FOR SHERIFF.

Something told Sam that Andie wasn’t going to be taking any time off of work for a while. If there was a newcomer in the sheriff race, she couldn’t afford to.

She also couldn’t afford to associate with the likes of Sam Brennan … unless no one found out about his past—and present—mistakes. He’d have to stay away from her, for real this time.

Sam had told her the truth right before he kissed her. She deserved better than the trouble he’d bring her, and it was up to him to see that she got it. Even if the thought of pulling away from Andie and Caitlin now felt about as painful as cutting out his own heart.

Chapter Eleven

Shock clobbered Andie over the head, leaving her stunned for an awful moment. “Who is Nash Tucker?”

“That would be my grandson.” Mr. Leeds emerged from the crowd, leaning on his cane and practically radiating smug satisfaction. “A Sanctuary Island boy, born and raised. He left for college and made a name for himself on the force in Atlanta, but now he’s come home where he belongs!”

Andie felt her grip on her temper loosening. “And I don’t belong, because I wasn’t born here?”

She was grateful for Sam’s steadying presence at her shoulder as Mr. Leeds stretched his tight, puckered mouth into a grim smile. “Now, now, Miss Shepard. I don’t have to tolerate sass from an outsider.”

Outsider.
The word scraped Andie on the raw. “I’ve worked hard to make a place for myself here, among these people,” she said, staring Mr. Leeds down.

“That’s the difference, right there.” Mr. Leeds tapped his cane on the floor smartly. “My grandson doesn’t have to work at it. He belongs here. Always has, always will.”

Andie decided she’d be damned if she showed how hard those shots hit her. “If you think I’ll back down and let the sheriff’s badge go without a fight, you’re wrong.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Leeds drawled, his watery gaze slipping down to rest on Caitlin’s red head. “I thought you might have discovered some new priorities.”

Something about the way he said it made Andie stiffen. In the tilt of his head, she saw echoes of her father’s dismissive headshake on the worst day of her life as a cop.

Women are too emotional for police work, I guess. I thought maybe you’d be different, but you’re the same as all the rest, Andrea. You’ve embarrassed this family.

She was responding to her absent father as much as to Mr. Leeds when she shot back, “You thought wrong. I’m not giving up on being sheriff, and I can win this election without abandoning my niece.”

Mr. Leeds didn’t look too concerned. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we? Oh, look, Nash is about to take the podium.”

Applause erupted from the packed booths and tables lining the walls of the small diner. Andie stared around her at the eager faces of people she’d served and protected for the past three years. Mr. Leeds gave her one last smug smile before he stumped over to the dais someone had constructed in front of the counter.

“You were counting on these people to vote for you.” The low rumble of Sam’s voice held no question, but Andie nodded anyway.

“That’s Cora Coles.” She tilted her chin at an expensively dressed bottle blonde who’d tottered up on her stilettos to get a better view. “I gave her daughter a five-hour defensive driving tutorial instead of writing her a ticket when she backed over a fire hydrant. And over there, pulling out his camera? That’s the editor of the
Sanctuary Gazette.
I mediated a dispute between the paper and the lawyer’s office next door.”

“Ungrateful idiots,” Sam growled. “What are they so excited … about…?”

He trailed off as a tall, golden Adonis climbed the steps to the podium, muscled arms raised and million-watt smile firmly in place. Andie’s heart sank to the soles of her boots as she took in Nash Tucker’s handsome, clean-cut appearance. “My competition,” she said numbly.

Sam made a scoffing noise. “That guy? Captain America over there? He’s no competition for you.”

“Oh sure,” Andie choked out as Tucker laughed and waved his hands in an unsuccessful attempt at calming the cheers and wild clapping. “What would the Sanctuary Island townspeople want with him?”

“Your track record here has to count for something,” Sam argued.

Andie swallowed around a lump of emotion. “I hope so. But ‘local hero returns’ is a pretty compelling story. Elections have been won on much less.”

Nash Tucker beamed around the crowded caf
é
and shouted over the applause, “All right, all right. It’s good to see y’all too! It’s been way too long.”

Of course, his speaking voice was clear and deep, confident and compelling, with just enough of a rasp to sound appealingly masculine. Andie steeled herself for a charming speech. Not that she wanted to stay for it, but pragmatically, she knew she ought to hear the words he’d use to sway votes his way. She couldn’t fight back if she didn’t know what she was up against. Besides, how would it look if she walked out now? She couldn’t bear for Mr. Leeds or anyone else to think she was intimidated.

But before Tucker could do more than thank the crowd for welcoming him home so enthusiastically, Andie felt a prickle at the back of her neck that lifted all the hairs along her nape. Darting a glance down to check on Caitlin, Andie sucked in a gasp. The girl was gone.

Between one heartbeat and the next, everything changed. Suddenly Andie couldn’t care less what anyone thought of her. All she cared about was finding Caitlin. She craned her neck to check the restaurant, her lungs freezing when she didn’t see a trace of her niece’s flaming red hair. “Come on,” she hissed to Sam. “Caitlin’s run off again, we have to find her.”

Sam, hard on her heels, reached over her shoulder to shove the caf
é
door open. They spilled out into the cool night air, Andie’s heart pounding a rough drumbeat against her ribcage at the thought of what might happen if Caitlin wandered down to the beach by herself and decided to wade.

“There, down by the water,” Andie breathed out, rushing around to the patio on shaky legs and scouring the deserted beach for a small, fragile figure kicking at the sand.

Sam was right by her side as she scrambled down the scrubby hill to crunch over the broken shells of the high-tide mark. His solid presence there gave Andie strength. When they reached Caitlin, he hung back a bit as if wanting to give them a moment alone. Without even thinking about it, Andie grabbed his hand and pulled him forward with her.

“Caitlin! You have to stop running off like this, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Andie said, dropping Sam’s hand to throw her arms around the little girl’s slumped, unresisting shoulders. Andie tensed inside, wondering if she’d be rebuffed, but Caitlin sniffled into her shoulder and let herself be hugged.

“I didn’t think anybody’d notice,” she muttered. “You have a boyfriend now, and your job is hard.”

Andie’s heart expanded so fast and hard, it made her ribs ache. Leaving aside the tricky question of whether or not “boyfriend” was the right way to describe Sam, Andie zeroed in on the main issue. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. I know I said I’d try to take some time off, but I guess you figured out that’s probably not going to happen now. Still, I’m going to spend as much time with you as I can. I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me.”

Caitlin pulled away to stare up at her, blinking furiously as if holding back tears. “Why? I’m not even your kid.”

“No, but you’re still my family.” Andie heard the wobble in her own voice, but she couldn’t do anything about it. “Neither one of us has so much family left that we can afford to lose each other.”

Caitlin cocked her head. “What happened to your family? Are they dead like my mom?”

What a complicated question. Andie bit her lip and glanced up at Sam helplessly. She had no idea how honest she should be. How could she explain to someone so young that there were families that splintered into pieces for all kinds of reasons. And no matter how many regrets a person had, sometimes there was no way to fix it. Sam spread his hands in a sorrowful gesture that told Andie he had, if possible, even less of an idea how to deal with the sticky subject than she did.

Begin as you mean to go on,
Andie thought, the words drifting through her brain in her father’s brisk, no-nonsense voice. It was good advice, and Andie drew in a steadying breath before she told Caitlin the truth. “My mother is dead, like yours. My father is still alive, but he doesn’t talk to me or your dad, for different reasons. And your father and I … well, it’s been a long time since I saw him.”

“I never saw him,” Caitlin said, staring down at her sandy sneakers. “But I still miss him. Do you miss him?”

Tears thickened Andie’s throat, making it hard to talk. “I do, sweetie. So much. The same way I’d miss you, now, if you left. So I need you to promise me you’ll stop trying to run away, Caitlin. I would notice. And I would miss you like my heart was breaking—just like you miss your dad.”

Maybe it wasn’t fair to use Owen that way, but she and Caitlin had the exact same hole in their hearts where Owen Shepard was supposed to fit. And Andie was desperate to get through to this closed-off kid—she’d use any tool that came to hand.

It paid off when Caitlin’s blue eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled like tissue paper. With a soft wail, Caitlin pushed into Andie’s arms and buried her face in Andie’s chest, right over her pounding heart. When Andie held her niece close and let Caitlin sob, she felt that heart crack right down the middle.

They were going to be okay. They’d muddle through until Owen came home—and then they’d decide where to go from there. Tears tracked cool and wet down Andie’s cheeks, but she smiled as she glanced up to share the moment with Sam … only to find that she and Caitlin were alone on the empty beach.

*   *   *

The buzz of the cell phone in his hip pocket jolted Sam out of his hypnotic brushing of Queenie’s black coat. Running his fingers over her glossy flank, Sam ruefully acknowledged he’d probably been brushing the mare more to calm his own stormy mood than in an attempt to clean an already-clean horse. Usually nothing chilled Sam out like spending time in the barn, connecting with his horses. But ever since the night he’d kissed Andie and then walked out on her, no amount of curry combing or hoof picking seemed to settle the raging torrent of emotion in Sam’s chest. Even now, ten days later, whenever Sam closed his eyes he felt the phantom brush of Andie’s lush, sweet mouth against his.

He was surprised and a little dismayed to find that he missed his miniature barn shadow, too. But Caitlin had started at Sanctuary Elementary this week, and at least he got to see her after school when Taylor picked her up and brought her to the barn for her riding lessons.

Maybe it was stupid to continue with those lessons, considering he was determined to ignore his heart and get back on track with what he should have done all along—avoid Sheriff Andie Shepard.

It sucked, worse than he could have imagined. But he had to face reality—this was the only way he could protect her from his past. Especially now that she was in a serious race for the job of sheriff of Sanctuary Island, she really couldn’t afford to hook up with a guy like Sam.

Still, whatever mistakes the adults in Caitlin’s life made, that kid didn’t deserve to have yet another promise broken. So Sam carefully arranged his schedule so that he gave her lessons on the weekdays when Andie had an afternoon work shift and couldn’t come to watch, and he made himself scarce when it was time for her to pick Caitlin up. It was harder than it should have been.

He sighed. Slapping a hand against Queenie’s gleaming flank, Sam palmed his phone out of his pocket and grimaced at the text from his business partner back home. Although, as Lucas Ricker himself would say, calling their horse rescue operation a “business” was a big enough stretch to pull a muscle. The text read:

Gimme a call when you get a chance. Had an offer on the old trailer.

Sam stiffened, his eyes automatically scanning the message again. Yep, that was the code they’d agreed on. If their phone records were subpoenaed later, Sam wanted no trace of a chance that anyone could go down for this except him. If Sam got arrested, at least Lucas would still be there for the horses.

Ducking out of the stall with an absent-minded pat on Queenie’s rump, Sam thumbed in Lucas’s number and listened to the ring. He took a quick glance around the quiet barn—it was Saturday, so Taylor was probably fooling around in the ring with her favorite gelding, Jeb. Jo Ellen was out to lunch with her fiancé while her daughter, Merry, was in the office across the hall typing away. Pretty private, but maybe not private enough for Lucas’s news. Just as Lucas answered with a terse “This is Ricker,” Sam’s gaze turned to the ladder leading up to the hayloft.

“Hold on a sec,” he told Lucas, tucking the phone into his pocket and setting his boots to the ladder rungs. The air was still and close up in the loft, and dust motes danced in the shaft of light from the high, square window. He breathed in the warm, yeasty smell of fresh-cut hay and let it brace him for the call ahead.

“Okay, I’m here,” Sam said, kicking a rectangular bale into place so he could sit on it and lean his back against the stack behind it. “What’s going on?”

“Cops came by yesterday, asking questions.” Lucas never wasted time on chitchat and how-are-you’s. He got right to the point, and Sam appreciated it.

“What did you tell them?”

“Exactly what we decided—you’re consulting at the Windy Corner Therapeutic Riding Center, and you traveled there with a horse that needs rehab. I showed ’em Queenie’s documentation.”

Sam’s left knee jittered and he blew out a breath. “Then what?”

“Then nothing,” Lucas grunted. “They left. You sure those papers will hold up?”

There was no way to be sure, but it wasn’t like Sam had any other options. “So long as they don’t dig too deep, I should be okay. I’ve got a history of coming out to Sanctuary Island with problem horses, and if they call the therapy riding center, Jo Ellen will tell them the truth—which confirms what they’ve already heard.”

“I don’t like it.”

The roar of a pick-up truck’s engine in the background gave Sam a picture of his partner. Lucas was out on the road where he liked to be, running down rumors and investigating complaints about mistreatment and neglect of horses. Folks called in or left anonymous tips on the Blue Ridge Horse Rescue website, and Lucas crisscrossed the state to check them out. Weeks could go by without the two men laying eyes on each other, but that suited them both just fine. They weren’t friends—they were more like cell mates. Two loners thrown together by the choices they’d made, who shared a common goal. Only in their case, the shared purpose wasn’t to survive prison and get out, it was a burning hatred of people who abused the animals under their care.