Page 5 of Hero's Heart

“I don’t know if you drank tonight, but you better sober up before your parents get here.”

“We weren’t drinking,” Kyle insisted.

Callum didn’t know if that was true or not, but he respected them looking out for each other.

“Good, then figure out what you’re going to tell your mom, because she’s on her way.”

The rumble of a lifted truck announced his warning was too late. Both boys deflated where they stood, and Macie laughed, pecking Aaron on the cheek as she slipped away. “See you at school. I’m not staying here to face your mom.”

“Bye, babe.”

Kyle waited until she was out of sight before he started mocking his big brother. “Bye, babe.Jesus, two seconds into a relationship and you’re already mushy-gushy.”

But nothing could wipe the smile off Aaron’s face as he stared after Macie, making sure she got into her car to drive home. “You’re just jealous.”

“Why would I?—”

“Kyle Murphy Johnson, Aaron George Johnson! What the hell is going on here?” Christina Johnson, a woman short in stature but big in voice, got out of her truck in a monstrosity of a nightgown and slammed the door.

The boys slumped more, as if they could disappear into the ground if they tried hard enough. All the other kids scattered to the wind. “Nothing, Mom.”

In this, they were a united front. Even their tone was the exact same. Callum had to turn away to keep his grin under control. It felt odd; he didn’t use it too much anymore.

“Is that right? So I’m out of bed at eleven for nothing? How wonderful for us. And you’re bleeding? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what are we going to do with you two?” Her eyes caught Callum’s, and she smiled tightly. “Hello, Sheriff. Apologies for whatever my hooligans did.”

“Not a problem, Mrs. Johnson. We’ve sorted things out.”

“Oh, good. Now it’s my turn.”

“Think we can run for it?” Kyle whispered out of the side of his mouth.

Aaron gulped. “Not a chance. She’s faster than she looks.”

Callum clapped a hand on each boy’s shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Come on. Time to face the music.”

Christina ripped her boys a new one then swaddled them in a suffocating hug, loading them into the truck with promises of future punishment. Callum knew she was lying, though, and so would they if they’d bothered to look at their mother more closely.

She’d had a panicked glint in her eyes when she’d rounded the truck, like she wasn’t sure what she’d find. A nighttime phone call when her sons were supposed to be safe in bed was probably her own personal nightmare.

After ensuring the house party was over and the kids got home safe, Callum did a quick roll through sleepy Oak Creek before he headed back to the police station. Few people were moving around this late at night, and those who were weren’t a nuisance.

It made for an easy job most days and an easy life. Exactly what he had been envisioning when he’d moved here, but it still felt strange.

No matter how many years since he’d arrived, he wasn’t sure the quiet was for him. He’d needed the peace at one time, but now the quiet felt…lonely.

Mrs. Rolands, the dispatcher on duty, waved as he came in. “Get the Johnson boys situated?”

“Mostly, they worked it out themselves—the way only teenage boys can.”

“With their fists.” Mrs. Rolands had raised three boys of her own.

“Yep.”

Callum gave a wave and turned toward his office. It was nothing special—plain white walls and a desk bolted to the floor in case someone decided to try their luck hauling the thing. The desktop was clear except for his keyboard and a single photo that faced the chair. His favorite one from the courthouse when he’d married Amelia. She had her hand on his chest and looked at Callum like he’d hung the moon just for her.

That was how he preferred to remember her. Not…the other.

He sat in his office chair with a sigh. He only had an hour left on shift—barring any other teenage drama incidents—and paperwork was calling. Pencil pushing wasn’t his favorite, but it was still his responsibility. And as with all his responsibilities, he took it seriously.