Page 15 of False Start

“She was fourteen and all of our foster homes were full. At least the ones in town, and she didn’t want to leave.”

“So, she chose it?” I told myself I was only seeking information, but with every new detail, my blood pumped harder and faster. I couldn’t afford to care, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting—needing—to know more.

“In a way, yes. I would say it worked out. Who knows, might just be where she got her talents for herding stubborn old fisherman. Thanks to her keeping them in line, for the first time in ten years, Milton let that restraining order on Gerald lapse.”

“Her doing, huh?”

“Maisy’s blunt with them, but affectionate. They know if they don’t let the old shit go, they’ll lose her and she’s the bright spot in their day.”

“I haven’t seen that side of her yet.” But I saw something. Something I didn’t want to examine too closely.

She’d definitely decided where I belonged, and she was right.

Even as my mind knew keeping my distance was best, something in me just wanted to poke at her. Activate that temper.

Go head-to-head and see who came out on top.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be in town long enough to see it. She doesn’t trust easily, and we can’t seem to get you to stick around,” the sheriff said, his hard eyes settling on me.

I leaned back in my chair and turned my focus to the sunlight bathing the ripples of saltwater jumping on the surface of the ocean in a golden glow. “It’s better for everyone if I’m gone.”

The sheriff heaved a heavy sigh. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“When are you going to believe it?” the sheriff demanded with a hard rap of his knuckles rattling the table between them. The utensils on the sheriff’s now mostly empty plate rattled with the force.

Undaunted by the heat in his words, I looked him dead in the eye. “I’m not.”

“That sense of responsibility you’ve got is going to be the death of you.”

“Better than lack of responsibility being the death of others.”

Heat crept up my neck and my skin burned under the sheriff’s stare. The one man who knew all of it. The past and the present. The bad, and the downright disastrous.

Because there sure as hell wasn’t any good.

Sheriff Chase whistled low and leaned back in his chair. “You, son, are dancing with some old ghosts. You’ve gone back in time, clean past the accident and straight on back to your brother, haven’t you?”

Ah, there was the sore spot, always festering. Always making me wonder what the outcome would have been if I’d done something different.

If I’d been different.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“You were a kid, and your dad was a coward.”

“So was I, but I moved on. Made a life here just like you all said I should. Just like you all convinced me I deserved,” I hurled the words at him, resentment wrapped around my heart for the way I let them all convince me I deserved more. Could be more.

I wouldn’t fall for it today.

Not ever again.

The sheriff shot daggers at me with his narrowed eyes, but he couldn’t scare me. I’d seen far worse than him.

“I had the start of a solid career I could be proud of on a small-town police force. I got involved with my community, with my heritage, and you know how that all turned out.”

The sheriff scraped his hand along his chin. “We have an opening coming up this spring. I was kind of hoping with Lilith having a baby I could convince you to take it, but you’re too far gone, aren’t you?”

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