Chapter 4
“More coffee, Sheriff?” Daphne stopped next to the two-toned leather booth I was sitting in. Sunny’s was your typical small town diner with a high top breakfast bar and a handful of booths and tables scattered around the open space. The floor was covered in black and white checkered tiles and an old jukebox sat in the back corner.
“Sure, thanks,” I nodded to the young waitress before turning my attention back to my phone. A few times a week I liked to stop into the diner to grab a quick lunch before heading back to the station. It gave me a reason to check in with the people in town and spend time looking at something other than the same four, plain, beige walls of my office all the time.
When I stepped into the role of Sheriff in our small town, succeeding my father, I had this idealistic vision of leading our close-knit community with a hands-on approach. Little did I anticipate the extent to which I”d find myself tethered to a desk, buried under piles of paperwork, and navigating the bureaucratic intricacies that came with positions of leadership.
The reality of policing in a small town meant that my responsibilities veered more towards community engagement, dispute resolutions, and managing local affairs than the high-adrenaline pursuits I had initially imagined as a kid who dreamed of taking over for his father one day.
The shift from patrolling our familiar streets to overseeing administrative tasks was a surprising turn. Rather than chasing down criminals, my days were consumed by town meetings, budget considerations, and ensuring that the police force seamlessly blended into the fabric of our community.
While the slower pace initially irked my desire for action, I came to appreciate the unique challenges and rewards of leading a police force in a small town. But if I could change one thing about this gig it would be the need to make small talk with everyone. I preferred to keep to myself, help those in need, and then go home alone. That was just the way I liked my life.
A commotion from the front of the diner captured my attention. I looked up just in time to see the parking spot thief walk through the front door and right into Jim’s waiting arms.
“Look at you!” Jim said, beaming. “You are so grown up. I can still remember the times you would come in here after school and sit at the breakfast bar eating bowls of cherries.”
So, she wasn’t an out of towner if Jim knew her from childhood… Who was she and why did she look so familiar? It’s been bugging me since I ran into her that morning at church. There was just something familiar about those big, green eyes.
“Hi, Jim! It’s so good to see you again. I’ve been dreaming about your famous Monte Cristo sandwich the entire time I’ve been gone,” the mystery girl let out a laugh that somehow sent a shock straight through my chest.
It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. You know the kind of laugh that was infectious and made you want to do just about anything in order to hear it again? Yeah, that was the kind of laugh this girl had, and something about it pulled at me.
“Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll whip you one up real quick. Can’t leave my best girl hanging!” Jim replied with a wink.
“Thank you, if you could make that to-go I would love you forever!” She said sweetly.
“You got it, peanut,” he said before ambling through the swinging kitchen door behind the breakfast bar.
A few minutes later my eyes locked with those familiar green ones before she headed straight for my table. I figured she would just stand there and give me some snarky remark before taking a seat at the breakfast bar but to my surprise she slid into the booth across from me and folded her hands on the table top.
“Hi, I’m Karis. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to formally introduce myself,” her small, slender hand stretched out across the table as if to shake mine.
For a second I just stared at her outstretched hand, caught off guard by her forwardness. “Uh, okay,” I slowly took her hand in mine. Our eyes snapped to where our hands were connected, and Karis yanked her hand back as if I’d burned her. She must have felt the same zap of electricity I had when our hands met.
“And your name is?” Karis prompted when I had yet to speak.
“Brant. Brant Landon,” I said, clearing my throat and shaking my head. What was going on with me? Focus, Landon.
A faint, rosy hue crept up her neck and took up residence on her cheeks. “Wait…” She inhaled a deep breath before letting it out, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Landon as in, Sheriff Anson Landon is your father?”
I immediately bristled at the notion that she didn’t know I was the Sheriff now. “No, Brant Landon as in the Sheriff of Ashwood Falls,” I said with more bite to my tone than necessary. I couldn’t help it though. It was hard enough following in the footsteps of my father, always getting compared to him and how he used to handle various situations but for whatever reason her not knowing I was the Sheriff bothered me.
The fire from the other day was back in her eyes and I knew I made a mistake. She had come over here to make amends and introduce herself and I’m sure she hadn’t expected me to snap at her in response.
“Well, Sheriff Landon,” she spit my name back at me. “I‘ll be sure to never park in your spot at church again. You know, while I’m at it, I’ll just go ahead and have my dad give me a map of available parking spots for next week,” she was climbing out of the booth when the pieces suddenly clicked together.
“Dad?” I managed to get out.
She paused at the edge of my table before turning her head back towards me with that same mocking smile from the other day.
“Oh, you don’t know? Yes, my dad is Pastor Walter. Did I not mention my last name when I introduced myself?” She laughed in a way that held no humor. “Karis Thompson. What a pleasure it was to meet you, Sheriff Landon.”
Karis turned and continued her walk to the breakfast bar just as Jim came out with her order, bagged and ready. She said her goodbyes before sauntering out of the diner without giving me a second glance.
I stood in the dimly lit local gym, the musty scent of sweat lingering in the air. Across from me, my brother Brooks eyed me with concern as we prepared to spar. I tightened the wraps on my hands, trying to shake off the tension that’d settled in my shoulders. Brooks, ever the observant one, shot me a questioning look.
”What”s eating at you, Brant?” He asked, the concern evident in his voice.
I shrugged it off at first, dismissing him with a shake of my head. ”Nothing, just feeling off today,” I replied, trying to deflect. But Brooks wasn”t one to let things slide easily.
He threw a light jab, his eyes narrowing as he pressed me for more. ”Come on, Brant. I know when something”s off. What’s up?”
I continued to evade the question, dancing around the topic as we circled each other in the ring. However, the weight of the encounter with Karis pressed on me, and I could no longer keep up the charade. Reluctantly, I halted our spar, catching my breath before finally letting the truth spill out.
“It’s a long story but I ran into this girl at church on Sunday,” I confessed, a hint of frustration in my voice. ”And I just ran into her again at Sunny’s and found out she”s Pastor Walter”s daughter.”
Brooks” expression shifted from concern to surprise as he connected the dots better than I had earlier. “Karis or Eden?”
I shot him a surprised look. “Karis. Do you know them well?”
“They went to school with us. Karis was my grade and Eden two years younger. You probably don’t remember them because you were a few years ahead and too cool for school,” he mocked throwing a quick jab to my right side.
I rolled my eyes and danced around the ring. “We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.”
Brooks snorted. “You make a bad first impression? I don’t believe it.”
“Shut up!” I bit out throwing a jab of my own toward Brooks’ stomach.
Brooks chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, that explains your broodier then normal disposition today. You’ve got a thing for the pastor’s daughter, huh?” His grin turned mischievous.
I shot him a glare. “It’s not like that. We just…” I blew out a breath. “We exchanged some words and I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m an immature jerk,” I didn’t mean to get so annoyed today and part of me did feel bad for snapping at her but another larger part of me didn’t care if I made a terrible first impression.
I didn’t need to impress her because I wasn’t looking for a friendship or anything more in that department. I poured myself into a relationship in the past and it ended up biting me in the butt. I have no intention or desire to go through that again. I have curated a life that was simple. Outside my job no one was relying on me, no one was keeping track of my whereabouts or complaining when I left dirty socks strewn across the bedroom floor. I liked my life just the way it was.
“Sure thing, bro. Whatever you say,” Brooks just gave me a cocky, knowing grin before resuming his fighting stance.
After an hour of sparring with Brooks, I took a quick shower before heading back to the station. The rest of the afternoon proved to be much less eventful than the first half of the day, to which I was very grateful. I was making a mental list of the things I needed to do before heading home for the night, when my phone vibrated against my jean clad leg. I fished it out of my front pocket and caught a glimpse of Gram’s picture on my screen. I stabbed the answer button before placing the phone next to my ear.
“Hey, Gram,” I said holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I straighten the papers scattered across my desk.
“How’s my favorite grandson?” Gram was always saying I was her favorite. It made me smile even though I knew she told my brothers the same thing.
“I’m good, and how is my favorite Gram?” I said laughing into the phone.
“I am doing quite alright. I actually heard some pretty interesting news today.”
I rolled my eyes and prepared myself for the inquisition. I knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill to start turning. Part of living in a small town was accepting the fact that anyone and everyone knew what was going on in your personal life, even if ninety percent of the time it wasn’t accurate.
“And what news would that be?” I asked, even though I knew it was a mistake to entertain this conversation. I should shut it down and move on but a part of me was actually curious to see how they spun the interaction I had with Karis earlier today.
“Word on the street is you had quite the dramatic encounter with Karis Thompson at the local diner,” Gram snickered.
I leaned back in my office chair, a mix of confusion and intrigue washing over me. ”Dramatic encounter? What are the little old ladies from the knitting circle saying now?”
Gram took a dramatic pause, savoring the moment. ”Well, according to the grapevine, you serenaded Karis with a love ballad right there in front of everyone. They say it was a grand romantic gesture, complete with a spotlight and a choir of angels singing along.”
I couldn”t help the burst of laughter that bubbled out of me as the absurdity of the rumor hit me. ”Gram, that”s not even close to what happened. We just had a conversation, that”s it.”
She laughed, clearly enjoying the embellished narrative. ”Ah, my dear boy, the gossip mill has a way of turning a simple conversation into an epic love story. Just remember, there”s always a kernel of truth in those tales, even if it”s buried beneath layers of exaggeration.”
As Gram continued to weave her entertaining version of the events, I couldn”t help the annoyance that took root in my heart at the town”s penchant for storytelling. The small-town gossip mill had transformed a casual, although unfriendly, encounter into a spectacle that, in reality, bore little resemblance to the truth.
I didn’t mind the knitting circle of retirees spending their days gossiping until I was the focus of their tales. I knew they all expected me to be married with at least one kid by now but sometimes life didn’t go the way we planned, and I’ve learned to not only accept that, but embrace it.