Heartbreak Cove (Sanctuary Island) (RE8) (4 page)

“That’s amazing,” Andie breathed. “When I first drove up, I thought she was going to kill someone. But you … all you did was talk to her.”

Sam shrugged, hiding the way her words warmed him from the inside out. “I’ve got a way with the broken ones.”

“You put them back together.” She smiled to herself, like she’d learned a secret about him.

This was wrong. He had to stop this—for her sake, as much as for his and Queenie’s. Stepping back, he disengaged their hands, leaving Andie petting Queenie with a surprised look on her face.

“I try.” Sam shrugged again, feeling the stiff tension in his shoulders. “It’s not always possible. Some things, some people, are too broken to save.”

Andie’s clear blue eyes, the same color as the ocean behind her, watched him. Sam scowled, hating the feeling that she could see right through him.

“I don’t believe that,” she said quietly, her fingers gentle as they tangled in Queenie’s mane. “No one is too broken to save.”

From bitter experience, Sam knew exactly how wrong she was. Memories gave a raw edge to his voice. “Lady, don’t ever leave Sanctuary Island. You’d never make it as a cop anywhere else with that soft heart.”

Chapter Three

The flash of pain in her ocean eyes brought him up short. Regret pulsed through him, making him want to haul her into his arms and bury his face in her neck, apologize for being a jerk. Then Andie’s gaze shuttered, locking him out, and Sam knew he’d pushed her away for good.

It was better this way. Better that she hated him than that she start liking a guy who could never give her anything but trouble.

A cloud of dust and the crunch of the parking lot’s gravel under heavy tires broke their staring contest. Andie turned to watch as Jo Ellen wheeled her pick-up truck and the attached forest-green trailer past the guardhouse and down the hill with practiced ease.

“Looks like our ride is here,” Sam said, finally reaching down to gather Queenie’s loose lead rope and saying a quick prayer that the horse would stay calm through the process of loading into the trailer.

“Hey, Jo Ellen,” Andie called out in a friendly voice, as if she hadn’t just been half a heartbeat away from either kissing Sam or punching him in the face.

“Sheriff!” Jo swung down from the cab of her pick-up and landed lightly on her booted heels. “And Sam. How are y’all doing?”

Strands of silver shot though Jo’s dark brown ponytail and there were laugh lines radiating out from her eyes. When she smiled and held out her hand to the sheriff, Sam couldn’t help but contrast the easy, comfortable-in-her-own-skin woman with the strung-out alcoholic he’d first met more than a decade ago.

Having witnessed her struggle with addiction and recovery up close and personal, Sam respected the hell out of Jo Ellen Hollister. If his own parents had been half as gutsy and determined to get clean—but there was no point in thinking about that.

Behind Jo, a teenaged girl climbed down from the passenger side of the truck and gave him a quick smile. Trying to hide her obvious nerves with a toss of her dirty blonde hair, she called out, “Hey, Matt’s Uncle Sam.”

Sam blinked, recognizing her as Taylor McNamara, the kid who’d convinced his cousin’s son, Matt, to sneak out to a protected piece of beach with a bottle of rum, and nearly got them both arrested for trespassing. “Technically, I’m Matt’s cousin Sam,” he told her, trying to keep the growly disapproval out of his voice. No need to go upsetting Queenie again when he’d just about gotten her calmed down. “How are you, Taylor?”

“Okay,” she said vaguely, her attention zooming in on the horse at the end of Sam’s lead rope. “She’s gorgeous. Steeplechase?”

Every nerve in Sam’s body prickled to high alert at her casual mention of one of the main classifications of horse racing. “Nah, this girl’s not from the tracks. She is a Thoroughbred though. Good eye.”

Taylor frowned, staring at the stallion, and Sam caught the sheriff watching the exchange with interest out of the corner of his eye. As if sensing the rising tension, Jo Ellen clapped Taylor on the back and said, “Come on, kiddo, help me get the trailer open and ready for him.”

Grumbling, the sixteen-year-old stomped around to the back of the trailer and Sheriff Shepard watched her go, an enigmatic blankness settling over her pretty features.

Not for the first time, the enormity of what he was attempting here, the absolute nightmare of a mess he’d gotten himself into, crashed over Sam’s head. How the hell did he think he was going to pull this off?

The same way you’ve gotten by this far in life,
he reminded himself firmly.
By trusting yourself—and no one else.

“Is it safe to have a violent horse out at Windy Corner?” Andie asked abruptly. “Now that you’re about to get the therapeutic riding center up and running, I’d think you’d only want the gentlest, most predictable horses at your barn.”

“Queenie isn’t normally violent,” Sam stated, working hard to keep the growl out of his voice.

Andie shot him a raised brow.

“She’s got some issues,” Sam allowed. “But traveling is stressful for most horses—today was the exception, not the rule.”

“If anyone can get this mare smoothed out and happy again, it’s Sam,” Jo promised, huffing as she bent to attach the heavy metal ramp to the back of the trailer. Sam shifted his weight, aching to get over there and help with the heavy lifting, but even that minute change in his stance had Queenie snorting nervously and swiveling her ears to check for threats.

“Anyway,” Jo continued, “I’ve got ulterior motives for offering up Windy Corner as a foster home for Queenie. I’m planning to ruthlessly use his knowledge and experience to help out with the first few therapy sessions. He’s going to make a great side walker.”

Sam tried to wipe his face clean of whatever confused expression he’d sported to make Jo grin at him like that.

“A side walker? I don’t know.” The way Andie hooked her thumbs in her gun belt shot heat straight to Sam’s groin. “Sounds like something we might have a law against. I’ll have to check the books.”

“No matter what it is, I’m game,” Sam promised Jo. “Anything I can do to help out, to thank you for taking Queenie in—just name it, and it’s yours.”

“You may be sorry you said that,” Jo muttered as she slapped her hands on her denim-clad thighs to shake off the sawdust from the floor of the trailer. “A side walker—different from a streetwalker, Sheriff!—is a volunteer who walks beside the mounted client to provide steady support through the session. Depending on the client’s needs, he or she could have both a side walker and someone else to lead the horse through the exercises…”

Pausing, Jo went a little red around the neck. “Listen to me carry on! Y’all weren’t asking for a lecture on the ins and outs of therapeutic riding. We’re all so caught up in it at the barn, I tend to forget it’s not the main focus of life for everyone on the island!”

“Don’t apologize, this is fascinating,” Andie said. “Can anyone volunteer, or are you only looking for people with horse experience, like Mr. Brennan?”

Uh-oh. Was the sheriff about to volunteer her time to the center? Sam saw the way Jo perked up. Looked like he might be spending even more time with Sheriff Andie Shepard. His smart head said, “No, no, no,” but the stupid head? The one in his pants? That head was all for it.

“No experience required!” Jo looked as if she wanted to sweep Andie up in a bear hug. “We’ll teach you everything you need to know before you ever have to go into a session. Are you interested, Sheriff? We’d sure love to have you.”

The last gasp of Sam’s rational brain coughed out, “Hey Jo, ease up. I’m sure Sheriff Shepard has better things to do with her time off…”

Andie raised her cinnamon-colored brows. “What better way could I spend my time than helping people in this community?”

“That’s already your day job,” Sam argued. “You don’t need to make a hobby out of it, too.”

“I may not need to, but I intend to. I’ve been looking for a way to get more involved in the community ever since I moved here three years ago. It’s high time I took the plunge. Jo, count me in.”

Jo, who’d been watching the volley of back and forth like it was a match at Wimbledon, smiled slowly. It wasn’t a comforting expression. “I’m so happy to hear it, Sheriff. It’s always great when two volunteers start at the same time—saves us a heap of trouble when it comes to training.”

“What do you mean?”

Now it was Andie’s turn to sound nervous, but Sam had no time to enjoy it before Jo said, “Because we can pair the two of you up and train you as a team.”

Sam locked his jaw on the protest that wanted to escape. The last thing he needed was to spend more time with the sexy, too-competent sheriff and her penetrating gaze … but part of him—three guesses which part—liked the idea. A lot.

*   *   *

Taylor braced one booted foot against the side of the trailer to keep the tack trunk she was sitting on from sliding when Jo took a wide, slow turn, and considered her options.

She could jump on the chance to text Matt that his favorite uncle—or cousin, whatever, Sam was uncle aged—was in town … or she could play it cool, and wait to see if Matt showed up at the barn on his own, looking for Sam. Playing it cool would obviously be … cooler. But impatience itched at her fingertips, urging her to tap out a quick message to her best friend.

Okay, Matty was pretty much her only friend. But didn’t that make him the best, by definition? Taylor’s best friend, the hottest guy in school. The guy she’d totally had a chance with last year before she screwed it up completely and lost Matt to happy coupledom when he started dating Dakota Coles. Now Matt and Dakota were everyone’s favorite couple—they were that sickening high school duo that seemed destined to be the king and queen of both homecoming and prom. They’d probably get voted Most Likely to Stay Together Forever.

Taylor McNamara, on the other hand? Most Likely to Pine and Wallow in Regret.

Two more months, she reminded herself. Then school would be out and she wouldn’t have to see Dakota’s smug smile as she pranced through the halls hanging off of Matt’s (sinewy, muscled) arm.

In fact, after graduation, chances were good that she wouldn’t have to see Dakota Coles for a long time. That was enough to bring a smile to Taylor’s face, although the smile faded at the reminder that she wouldn’t be seeing as much of Matt, either.

That decided it. Playing cool was for people with time to dick around. Taylor had goals, and her deadline for achieving them was fast approaching.

When she couldn’t get through more than a couple texts without embarrassing typos caused by the rough ride in the trailer along with Sam’s horse, Taylor gave up on texting and called Matt instead.

“Is Sam really here?” he demanded as soon as he picked up the call.

Taylor laughed. “I have no motive for lying.”

“I can’t believe my mom didn’t tell me he was coming!”

“Well, what were you going to do about it? Clean the house and make up his room? I thought you had people for that.”

Matt made a scoffing noise that didn’t quite hide his discomfort with the fact that Taylor’s teasing was only the truth.

“Oh come on,” Taylor said, annoyed that she felt bad for bringing it up. “Your mom married a billionaire—for love!—and now you’re set for life. I know it was a little freaky at first, but aren’t you used to it by now?”

The breath he huffed into the phone was mostly a laugh. “That’s what I love about you, Tay. You don’t sugarcoat things.”

As much as she wanted to thrill to the sound of the ‘L’ word and Matt’s nickname for her mingling together in a single sentence, the rest of the sentiment made her grimace. “Sorry. I know it was weird for you.”

“No,” Matt protested unconvincingly. “I mean, I’m happy for my mom, and I like Dylan a lot. And obviously it’s great she doesn’t have to work two jobs anymore and all that. I just … for a long time, it was me and Mom against the world. And I’m glad she has Dylan, but everything is different now.”

Taylor thought about her dad and how sad he’d been after her mom died, and how much happier he was now that he and Jo were together. “I know. Something special happens when you’ve just got one parent, and all you have is each other. Letting other people into that is hard, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“Especially since we’re going to college soon,” Matt mused. “I would’ve hated leaving Mom alone. Now at least I know she’ll be taken care of when I’m not around.”

Taylor’s eyes burned the way they always did when she thought about leaving home. Leaving Sanctuary Island, leaving her dad and Jo and the horses at Windy Corner … leaving Matthew Little. “Man, this conversation got heavy in a hurry,” she said gruffly.

“My bad,” Matt apologized with a quiet laugh. “I know you hate all this sappy emotional stuff.”

If only he knew. Taylor had gotten friendly with plenty of emotions this past year.

A year of watching Matt laugh, hold hands, and cuddle with someone who wasn’t Taylor. A year of knowing that even if Tomboy Taylor could compete with perfect, pretty, girly girl Dakota Coles, Matt would never, ever cheat.

“I don’t hate the emotional stuff,” Taylor insisted, wincing at the fierce seriousness in her tone but unable to soften it. “You can tell me anything, no matter what, and I won’t judge you or make fun of you. I hope you know that.”

“I do.” Matt sounded touched, as if he knew that hadn’t been easy for Taylor to say. “Nobody gets me like you do, Tay. That’s why you’re my best friend. Man, I’m going to miss you next year.”

Taylor leaned her head against the metal wall of the trailer and tried to tell herself her eyes were watering because of the hay dust in the air. “Me too, Matty. Me too.”

“Best friends forever,” Matt declared, and this time he was the one who sounded fierce.

Taylor echoed him. All she could think was that if Matt’s friendship was what she could have, she’d take it—but if she didn’t at least try for something more, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

Less than two months until graduation, then three months of summer. That was her window. Time to jump out of it and see where she landed.