Chapter Seven #2
"Set those down over here, son," Pa directed, pointing to an empty space behind the table.
I did as he asked, then straightened up to scan the crowd, my eyes automatically searching for the tan uniform or the particular way Deputy Dan moved through a space—confident but watchful, like he was always aware of everything around him.
"Harlow, start arranging these tomatoes, would you?" Ma's voice pulled me back. "Biggest ones on the bottom, like a pyramid."
I nodded and got to work, my large hands gentle with the ripe fruit. I was good at this—knowing exactly how much pressure I could use without bruising them, sorting them by size almost without thinking about it. My body could do the work while my mind wandered and my eyes kept looking.
The market was filling up fast. Old Mrs. Patterson stopped by our stand to pick up her weekly lettuce, chatting with Ma about someone's new baby.
The baker from Rosie's had set up across from us, the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries making my stomach rumble despite the big breakfast I'd eaten.
A little girl in a yellow dress skipped past our stand, her pigtails bouncing with each step.
I smiled at her, and she waved back before her mother tugged her along.
All around us, McKenzie River was alive with Saturday business.
Farmers called out their best deals, wind chimes from the craft stalls tinkled in the breeze, and somewhere down the row, someone was playing guitar.
The sun was warm on my shoulders, but not too hot yet.
It was the kind of perfect early summer day that made you glad to be outside.
An hour into the market, I was still arranging vegetables and making change for customers while Ma kept up a stream of friendly chatter with everyone who stopped by.
Every few minutes, her eyes would find me, checking that I was still there, still doing what I was supposed to be doing.
Each time I felt her watching, something tight and uncomfortable settled in my chest.
I finished building a display of carrots, their green tops still attached and bunched with twine. My back was starting to ache from bending over the table, and I straightened up, once again searching the crowd.
That's when I saw him.
Deputy Dan was on the far side of the market, talking to Sheriff Hardesty by the honey stand. He was in regular clothes today—jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders—not his uniform. Even without the badge and tan shirt, I'd have known him anywhere.
My heart did that funny jump-skip thing it always did when I caught sight of him. I watched as he laughed at something the sheriff said, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck where his hair curled a little at the bottom.
"Harlow? Did you hear me?" Ma was tugging at my sleeve, her voice sharp with annoyance. "Mrs. Turner wants three pounds of potatoes."
I tore my eyes away from Deputy Dan, my face heating up like I'd been caught doing something wrong. "Sorry, Ma. Three pounds of potatoes coming up."
As I weighed the potatoes and bagged them for Mrs. Turner, I kept sneaking glances toward the honey stand. Deputy Dan was still there, but now he was looking in our direction. Our eyes met across the market, just for a second, but it was enough to make my hands fumble with the scale.
I needed to talk to him. Needed to know if he was alright after the accident, if his ribs had healed proper. Needed to know if he'd meant that look he gave me from the window when he was leaving our farm.
When Mrs. Turner moved on, I turned to Ma, who was counting change into another customer's hand. "Ma, I need to use the bathroom," I said when she was finished.
She frowned, looking around like the public restrooms might have suddenly appeared next to our stand. "Can't it wait? We're busy."
"Not really," I said, shifting from foot to foot like I really needed to go. "I'll be quick. Promise."
She sighed, that put-upon sound I'd heard my whole life. "Fine, but come straight back. No detours."
"Yes, Ma," I said, already backing away before she could change her mind.
Once I was out of her sight, I took a deep breath that felt like my first real one all day.
I moved through the crowd carefully, mindful of my size and the way people sometimes startled when they turned and found me standing there.
The crush of bodies would normally make me anxious, but today I welcomed it.
The noise and movement made it easier to disappear, despite being taller than almost everyone else.
I passed stalls selling everything from handmade quilts to jars of local honey. The quilts caught my eye—bright patterns catching the sunlight, fabrics pieced together to make something new and beautiful.
At another table, a woman was selling soaps that smelled like lavender and cedar. The scents mixed with the sweet smell of fresh bread from Rosie's Bakery and the earthy aroma of vegetables from the farmers' stalls.
For a moment, I just stood still, letting it all wash over me. The sounds of people haggling and laughing. The kaleidoscope of colors from flowers and fabrics. The warmth of the sun on my skin. The simple joy of being on my own, even if just for a few minutes.
I hadn't seen where Deputy Dan had gone after the honey stand. The sheriff was still there, talking to the honey seller, but Dan had disappeared. I moved further into the market, past a display of carved wooden animals that reminded me of Knox's work, though not as finely detailed.
My time was running out. Ma would be looking for me soon, would maybe even send Pa to find me. The thought sent a little spike of panic through me, but I pushed it down. I was a grown man. I had every right to walk through the market by myself.
I just needed to find him. Just needed a few minutes to talk to him without Ma watching my every move like I might break if she blinked.
A strong hand clamped around my arm, yanking me sideways before I could even make a sound.
My heart jumped into my throat as I was pulled into the narrow gap between Rosie's Bakery and the hardware store.
Panic shot through me like lightning—I might be bigger than most folks, but being grabbed without warning still scared me something fierce.
I tensed up, ready to pull away, when I caught sight of familiar brown eyes looking up at me. Deputy Dan. Relief flooded through me so fast it made me dizzy.
"Deputy Dan," I whispered, his name coming out like a prayer. His hand was still on my arm, warm through the fabric of my shirt.
"Sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
The alley was barely wide enough for the two of us.
Brick walls rose on either side, the smell of fresh bread from Rosie's mixing with the sharp scent of paint thinner from the hardware store.
A sliver of blue sky showed overhead, but down here we were hidden from the busy market, from prying eyes. From Ma.
"You found me," I said, stating the obvious like I always did when I got nervous. "I didn't know if you were coming to the market today."
Dan's eyes scanned my face like he was memorizing it, or maybe looking for something.
He was still holding my arm, his grip gentler now, but no less firm.
"Your mother's made sure we couldn't talk," he said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration.
"Every time I've called the house this week, she's had some excuse why you couldn't come to the phone. "
My stomach dropped. "She never told me you called."
Dan's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping along the side. "I figured as much."
He was standing so close I could smell that pine soap he used, could see the tiny scar above his right eyebrow where the stitches had been. His face was just inches from mine, close enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my eyes drifting to where his hand still held my arm. "Your ribs and all?"
"Getting there," he said, a small smile softening his expression. "Doctor says another week before I can go back on patrol. Just desk duty for now."
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. There were so many words jumbled up inside me, so many questions I wanted to ask. But having him this close made it hard to think straight.
"I've missed you something awful," I blurted out, the words tumbling free before I could stop them. My face immediately flushed hot, and I looked down at the ground between us, afraid to see his reaction.
For a long moment, there was only silence and the distant sounds of the market—voices calling out prices, children laughing, someone playing a fiddle now instead of a guitar. Then Dan's hand moved from my arm to my chin, gently tilting my face back up to meet his eyes.
"I've missed you too, big guy," he said softly. "More than you know."
The nickname made something warm unfurl in my chest. No one had ever called me that before—not in the way Dan did, like my size was something good, something he liked.
His hand dropped from my chin, but before I could miss the contact, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. His thumb pressed against the spot where my pulse beat hard and fast beneath my skin, like he was taking my measure through the rhythm of my blood.
"We need to talk, Harlow," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "About us. About what's happening between us."
Us. Such a small word to make my heart feel too big for my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "Ma says I don't understand," I admitted, the words bitter on my tongue. "Says I'm confused about my feelings."
Dan's expression hardened for a moment before softening into something that looked almost like tenderness. "Do you feel confused, Harlow?"
I shook my head. "No. Not about this."
"Neither do I," he said simply.
His thumb was still moving over my pulse point, slow circles that made it hard to concentrate on anything else. The alley suddenly seemed smaller, the air between us thicker. I could hear my own breathing, too fast and shallow.
"I know what I want," Dan continued, his voice dropping lower. "I've known since you carried me through that storm like I weighed nothing. Since you sat beside me in the dark and promised to help find whoever tampered with my car."
My face was burning now, but I couldn't look away from him. His eyes held mine like they had their own gravity, pulling me in and holding me there.
"I want you, Harlow McKenzie," he said, each word precise and deliberate, like he was making sure I understood exactly what he meant. "Not as a friend. Not as someone to protect or take care of. As a partner. As a man."
My heart hammered so hard I was sure he could feel it through my wrist, where his fingers were still wrapped.
I didn't know what to say—words had never been easy for me, and now they seemed impossible.
But I needed him to know I felt the same, needed him to understand what I couldn't figure out how to tell him.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I turned my hand in his grip until our palms were pressed together, then slowly laced my fingers through his. His hand was so much smaller than mine, but it fit perfect, like it was made to be there.
Dan looked down at our joined hands, then back up at me. The smile that spread across his face transformed him, lighting him up from the inside in a way I'd never seen before.
"There's so much I want to tell you," he said, squeezing my hand. "So much we need to figure out. But not here, not like this, with five minutes stolen behind a bakery."
I nodded, understanding what he wasn't saying. Ma would be looking for me by now. We didn't have much time.
"When?" I asked, the single word carrying all my hope and fear and longing.
"Tomorrow night," Dan said without hesitation. "I'll be at the river bend, by the old oak, at sunset. Can you get away?"
The river bend was on the edge of our property, far enough from the house that Ma wouldn't hear me leave, but close enough that I could get there and back without raising suspicion if I was careful.
I nodded again, this time more firmly. "I'll be there."
Dan's smile widened, and something in his eyes made my breath catch. He leaned in, so close I thought for a wild moment he might kiss me right there in the alley. Instead, he pressed his forehead against my chest, just for a moment, his free hand coming up to rest over my heart.
"I've been waiting for you to find me," he whispered, his words vibrating against my sternum.
"Ever since I came to this town, I've been waiting for you.
" Then he stepped back, slowly releasing my hand.
"I should go first," he said, his voice returning to normal. "Your mother might be looking for you."
I nodded, already missing his touch though he was still standing right in front of me. "Sunset tomorrow night," I confirmed. "I'll be there."
Dan gave me one last look, something fierce and possessive in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. Then he slipped out of the alley and back into the crowded market, leaving me alone with the thundering of my heart and a hope so bright it almost hurt to hold it.
Us. We were an "us" now. Or we would be, after tomorrow night.
For the first time in my life, I felt the boundaries that had always hemmed me in start to crack and fall away. Ma would be angry. The town would talk. But none of that seemed to matter anymore, not when Deputy Dan Latham was waiting for me tomorrow night by the river at sunset.