Page 14 of Redeeming Melodies

The fairy lights reflected in my coffee, dancing like tiny stars. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever just be Sheriff Thompson instead of 'that Thompson kid who became sheriff.'"

"You already are." Nina started preparing for the evening crowd, her movements efficient but unhurried. "To the kids who've never known any other sheriff. To newcomers who don't know our ancient history. To people like Mr. Randall who judge you on your actions, not old stories."

The door chimed as a couple of regulars walked in. Nina greeted them warmly but stayed near me, her presence steady and grounding.

"You know what your problem is?" she continued, voice low enough for just me to hear. "You're so busy looking for forgiveness that you miss the respect you've already earned. Those kids at the high school? They straighten up when your cruiser passes because they respect the badge, not because they're scared of you. That means something."

"Doesn't feel like enough sometimes," I admitted, the words scraping my throat on their way out.

"It's not supposed to feel easy." She patted my hand, her touch brief but warm. "The hard things never do. But that's what makes them worth doing."

More customers filtered in as the evening crowd started forming. Nina moved down the counter to take orders, but kept drifting back to our conversation between drinks.

"Remember when Gerald first suggested you for sheriff?" she asked, sliding a beer to a regular. "Half the town thought he'd lost his mind."

"Including me," I muttered.

"But he saw something in you. Same thing I see now - someone who cares enough to do the hard work, not just wear the badge." She grinned. "Even if you are stubborn as hell about accepting help."

"I accept help," I protested weakly.

"Sure you do. That's why you're sitting here alone instead of joining the poker night at the station." Her eyebrow arched. "Your deputies aren't just colleagues, Jake. They could be friends if you'd let them."

The coffee had gone cold, but I sipped it anyway. "Harder to lead people if they're too familiar."

"Harder to protect a community if you're not part of it." Nina's voice carried that mix of affection and exasperation I remembered from my teenage years. "You've proved yourself as sheriff. Maybe it's time to prove to yourself that you deserve to be happy too."

I watched as she moved down the bar, greeting each person like they were the most important customer of her day. Old Pete with his tab that never quite got paid - Nina treated him like a millionaire. The Morrison kid who'd gotten caught shoplifting last month - she slid him a soda and a kind word. Even Richard from dispatch, who could talk the ear off a statue - she listened like every word mattered.

That's what serving a community really looked like. No conditions, no judgments, just showing up and doing the work that needed doing.

The door chimed behind me, and the evening air swept in along with footsteps I'd recognize anywhere. Fuck. Of all the moments-

"Evening, Sheriff Thompson."

Liam stood there, Caleb a steady presence at his shoulder. He looked good - success suited him. His latest album artwork was plastered across half the town's windows, but here in Nina's dim lighting, he just looked like any other local coming in for a drink.

"Liam. Caleb." I managed to keep my voice steady. "Good to see you both."

Caleb nodded, his arm settling protectively around Liam's waist. But Liam surprised me with a small, genuine smile. "Heard you helped out at Mr. Randall's farm. Betty said you handled those kids well."

"Just doing my job." The words came automatically, but I forced myself to add, "Tyler's been helping at the hardware store. Seems like he just needed someone to give him a chance."

Something flickered across Liam's face - recognition maybe, or remembrance. "Sometimes that's all it takes. The right person giving you a chance at the right time."

Nina appeared with perfect timing, as always. "Boys! The usual?"

"Please," Caleb answered, but his eyes stayed on me, assessing. "You know, Sheriff, we're having a small gathering at the ranch at the end of the week. Local music and good food. You should stop by."

Liam tensed slightly, but didn't object. Progress, maybe.

"Thanks, but I'm on duty this weekend." The lie tasted bitter, but forcing my presence on them felt wrong. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

"Sure." Liam's voice was quiet but clear. "Maybe when things are less..." He gestured vaguely, encompassing years of history in one motion.

"Raw?" I offered.

"Different," he corrected. "Things are different now. Not better or worse just..."

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