Chapter 8 #2
“Partly. I found SAR work through my brother Jacob, discovered I had a knack for it.” He glanced at Dancer, sleeping peacefully now. “Plus, I met a really great dog who needed me.”
Sabrina laughed softly. “Love at first sight?”
“Something like that.”
Her phrasing made him want to ask her if that meant she believed in love at first sight. Especially between people. Because he’d recently starting thinking he might, and it would be amazing if she didn’t think he’d fallen into a vat of loony juice for thinking along those lines.
“What about you? What keeps you in Dark Canyon?”
“Besides the obvious stellar working conditions and highly supportive environment for female officers?” Her sarcastic laugh got his back up, because he hated that she had to fight for a rightful place in her world.
“The wilderness is in my blood. My father was military, we moved constantly when I was young. But every summer, my mom would bring me here to stay with my grandparents. It was the only place that ever felt like home.”
The longing in her voice resonated deep in his soul. “Must have been hard, always being the new kid.”
“It taught me to be self-reliant. How to prove myself over and over.” Steel threaded through her words.
“My father had…let’s call them high expectations.
Nothing was ever quite good enough. That’s why I have to push so hard.
Be the best. It’s stupid. He’ll never know or care if I excel every single day or fall on my butt. ”
“It’s not stupid,” he countered fiercely. “You have amazing drive. I recognize it at a soul-deep level. It’s impressive, and it means we’re a good fit, because I won’t leave you behind.”
“As if, Colton. I’ll always be in the front.”
He grinned. “Fine by me. That’s a better view anyway.”
She laughed, followed by a telltale sniff. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel like I can tell you anything.” She shifted, and he could hear rustling that made him think of her getting comfortable in bed. “I don’t usually talk about my dad.”
“I’m a good listener. It’s a necessary skill when you depend on leads and tips to get an investigation going.
” He sank down a bit in his own bed, liking the idea of being in the same place at their respective houses while they talked.
“Also, I like learning interesting things about other people. When my mom got sick, it changed my whole world. I dropped everything to come home—my career, my life, all of it. And I’ve never regretted that choice.
But sometimes it’s nice to feel like my old self again. ”
“Why didn’t you ever pick it back up again?” she asked in the pause.
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I write articles occasionally, mostly for SAR publications.”
“I recognized your byline,” she informed him dryly. “In the stuff you sent. It was riveting. You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You need to get back into the game. It’s important. You’re going to solve the Jane Doe mystery and write about it, and I’m going to help you.”
“You already agreed to help,” he reminded her, amused that she’d latched onto his quest with such ferocity. “Are you all out of noble causes?”
“Yeah, actually,” she shot back. “You clearly need someone to support you as you ease back into your journalism self. I’m happy to be that for you.”
Well, first of all, he didn’t ease into anything. And second of all, dang. His heart squished out between his ribs and melted into a puddle on the floor.
“Why?” he murmured, a little blown away with what was happening between them.
“Because you need someone in your corner.” Her voice held an edge that he wanted to know more about. “I hear you when you talk about your stories. It’s your passion. You miss it, but you don’t do it, and I suspect you never went back to that life because it feels selfish.”
He started to protest and then closed his mouth, letting her point ping around inside him. “I didn’t realize I was getting free psychoanalysis with this phone call.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t. But it’s not the whole truth. SAR is important. I can’t just give that up, stop doing the work Dancer and I are extremely well suited for. It would be a waste.”
And he did feel selfish for wanting his old life back when it meant not being here for his family. His dad was single and alone for the first time in decades. Mark had something going on that didn’t seem good. He couldn’t just walk away.
Plus, it made him sad to think about passing Dancer off to someone else.
He couldn’t in good conscience drag a trained SAR dog along as he traveled—by plane mostly—to far flung locales.
There was probably some guilt in there too about something he didn’t feel like examining at the moment, now that Sabrina had ripped open this wound.
“So, we’ll work on the Jane Doe story for now,” she told him soothingly as if she really did get it, “and then see what’s what.”
“Do you bulldoze everyone like this?” he asked with a laugh meant to cover the quaver in his voice.
“Please. Like you can’t take it.”
He could. Gladly. Because it meant they were building something. “I’m not threatened by a strong woman. Bring it.”
“The fact that you aren’t is the only reason we’re having this conversation,” she said, the teasing note from a moment ago gone. “It’s not that common, you know. For a man like you to be okay with a woman like me.”
“A smart, sexy woman in uniform who can beat me in a foot race? Oh, no. Not that,” he said lightly. “I like who you are. It’s not that common here either to find someone who isn’t exhausted by me.”
“Same. I’m used to being out front alone. It’s nice that you haven’t thrown in the towel yet.”
This was not the conversation he’d been expecting, but it was absolutely the one he wanted to be having. They were a matched pair. She felt it too and it was making him giddy.
Which could also be a function of the late hour.
“I’m sorry you’ve been exposed to the toxic side of my gender.”
“Not just at work.” She paused. “I…don’t date that often either. Or for that long. I mean, second dates are not so much a thing in my world.”
Good. That left the door wide open for him to walk right through, and he did like the sound of that.
“Their loss,” he said, pulling it from a place deep inside where there was only truth. “I’ll make you a deal. When we get married, you can carry me over the threshold.”
She laughed like he was kidding. “Maybe we’ll just walk through together. That feels more like our speed.”
If she could make wedding jokes without flinching, things were going way better than he’d dared hope. It was going to be impossible to wipe the smile off his face tomorrow.
“Yeah.” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “This is the first time I’ve felt like staying in Dark Canyon isn’t a sacrifice. Like maybe I’m still here for another reason.”
“Careful, Colton.” But her voice held a smile. “You’re getting dangerously close to fate territory.”
“Is that a terrible thing? To think of forces bigger than ourselves being at work?”
Her soft laugh warmed him. “I’m not one to cede control to the whims of fate. But I’ll allow that it feels like we were meant to meet.”
He’d take it. Noah glanced at his bedside clock and blinked. “How is it already two in the morning?”
“What?” She must have checked her own time because she groaned. “I have to be at work in four hours.”
“Me too.” But he made no move to end the call. “Though I’m tempted to suggest we just stay up.”
She yawned. “Some of us need actual sleep instead of running on pure adrenaline and hope.”
He laughed, remembering their earlier conversation. “One day you’ll appreciate that about me.”
“I appreciate it now.” Another yawn. “We should probably be responsible adults.”
“Probably.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “Though for the record, I’d much rather keep talking to you.”
“Same.” The simple admission carried more weight than a thousand pretty words.
“I can’t wait to see you again. When’s your next day off?”
“Saturday.”
Four days from now. Ugh. “That’s way too long.”
“Call me tonight, then,” she told him. “I’ll answer.”
They said goodbye and hung up reluctantly. At least on his side.
Noah lay awake, his mind spinning. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of connection with someone. The kind that made him want to share every thought, every dream, every piece of himself.
He’d never felt it. That was the thing. This was uncharted territory, and he could barely stand to wait for the next stage.