Chapter Twenty
Frantic hands move over me. I hear panicked voices as I struggle to open my eyes, and when I do, the world pitches and spins.
“Easy, Poppy. Take it nice and slow.”
I squint up at the face of the man holding me. “Shepard?”
“Yeah. Fuck, you gave us quite the fright.”
“Us?” I frown, still not with it. I reach up to touch my head where it hurts, but a hand stops me.
I lift my gaze high. Riggs looks down at me in concern. “Let me finish covering it. You’ve got a gash on your head. It doesn’t look deep enough for stitches, but I want to put this gauze on to keep it clean, okay?”
I nod and wince, instantly regretting it. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell us that,” Shepard states. I frown, thinking back, and swallow, not knowing how to explain.
“And why do you smell of gasoline?” Riggs questions sharply.
“I don’t know,” I answer, sounding every bit as confused as I am. “I thought I could smell it when I was out there. It’s what I was trying to find. Talking of finding things, how did I get back here?”
“I came to bring the car back. Nobody answered when I knocked, so I walked in.”
“You walked in?” And the house let you? I don’t ask that last part, of course.
“Yep. Followed the noise of the tractor. Found Riggs, and he told me you’d gone for a ride.”
“Which is when Willow came back without her rider. We saddled up and came to find you. Willow led us right to you. Smart horse, that one. You scared the fucking life out of me, though. I swear to god, every time I let you out of my sight, something happens.” Riggs grumbles.
“Maybe don’t let her out of your sight then. I thought you were hired to protect her,” Shepard snaps.
“Hey! Not cool. This isn’t on Riggs. This is on me. I must have lost my balance and hit my head.” I move to sit up, ignoring the pain. “Thanks for dropping the car off. I’ll see you around.” I try to pull out of his arms, but he’s not having any of it.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Stay the fuck down for a minute.”
“Sheriff—”
“Call me sheriff one more time—”
“That’s who you are!” I snap, my head pounding.
“Enough. Let her up, now,” Riggs snarls, holding out his hand to me. Shepard grips me tighter, and I suddenly feel like a fucking chew toy they’re both fighting over.
I generate just enough power to give Shepard a static shock. He jolts, loosening his hold, which Riggs takes advantage of by lifting me into his arms. He hugs me tightly for a moment before placing me on my feet. He slides my hair from the side of my head so he can look at my temple.
“Not sure how you manage to get a bump on the back and a cut on the front. You must have hit the fence and a rock or something.”
“Or something,” I whisper as Shepard gets to his feet.
“Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he says.
“I’m fine. Thank you for coming. I’ll walk you out.”
I pull away from Riggs and turn toward Shepard, who yanks his hat from his head as he steps up to me and cups my jaw. “Please. Just let me stay for a little while. I’ll go insane with worry otherwise.”
The look in his eyes tells me he’s being genuine. His fear of something happening to me is very real. I might be a lot of things, but I’m apparently not a heartless bitch. “Fine. You can stay. I’m going to take a shower. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
Neither of them says anything as I head toward the stairs. A thought occurs to me, and I turn around. Both watch me, but I focus on Riggs. “Did Dawn come by?”
He shakes his head. “Not that I know of. But I was on the tractor and then looking for you. Not everyone comes in when they’re not invited,” he says, landing a dig against the sheriff.
“Dawn?” Shepard asks.
“Doesn’t matter. She knows where I am. She’ll come when she’s ready.
” I side-step his question, but my words weigh on me.
There is never a good time to leave an abusive relationship, never a safe time to run, but staying isn’t an option either.
I’d track her down myself if I didn’t think I’d make things worse.
I stomp upstairs, frustrated, and take a shower, scrubbing myself raw before climbing out and drying off.
I slip into a short white sundress with a red paisley print before sliding my brown cowboy boots back on.
I leave my hair in the braids and make my way back downstairs, where the atmosphere is so tense you could cut it with a knife.
“Hey, Riggs, why don’t you head back out and finish what you were doing? I’m going to check in with Willow, then make some dinner.”
His eyes flit to Shepard before he nods. “You know where I am if you need me.”
“I know.”
He moves to me, so I tip my head back so he can kiss my forehead.
Only the motherfucker has to prove a point.
He slides his hand around my back and yanks me to him before his mouth covers mine.
I open to him instinctively. The man kisses like he was born to do it.
As I lose myself in him, flashes of his naked body and what it felt like when he touched me flash through my head. All too soon, he pulls back.
“I won’t be long.” He winks and walks out with the kind of cocky swagger only a man who just kicked another in the balls can do.
“Was that for your benefit or mine?” Shepard huffs from behind me.
“Can we not?”
He sighs and moves up behind me, his hands going to my hips as he presses his lips to my ear. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You could leave me alone?”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”
“If you have, you suck at it.”
He sighs before turning me around to face him. “Is he the reason you’re fighting me so hard?”
I stare at him incredulously. “No. I’ve told you why I’m not interested. You just don’t like the truth.”
“You’re forgetting, I’ve tasted you. I know your truth.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“You want me. You want me so fucking bad you can barely stand it, but you’re scared.”
“I’ve never wanted to punch someone as much as I do you right now.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He grins as my hand twitches.
The house indicates someone is approaching, which stops me from acting out. With a huff, I shove past him and head for the door. Tugging it open, I see Dawn on the other side, wringing her hands.
She looks up at the open door. The bruising around her eye is worse today, the makeup doing little to hide it. She tugs her sweatshirt to cover her wrists, but not before I see the ring of bruises circling them.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I tried to get away sooner.”
“No, you’re fine. I’ve not had the best morning myself,” I admit, touching the cut on my head.
“What happened?”
“Took a tumble. Nothing to worry about. Come inside, and I’ll grab the cream for you.”
She follows me inside. Before I can take her any further, Shepard steps into the hallway, his eyes landing on Dawn, who cringes back. I step between them to cover her body with mine.
“Excuse me, Sheriff.” I glare at him in warning that he had better keep his mouth shut.
“Dawn. How are you today?”
“I’m fine. You know what, Calliope? I really should go. I’m sorry to waste your time.” She turns to leave, but the door slams shut before she can reach it, making her gasp.
“It really will only take a moment, and you can come with me if you like. I have a little something for Hannah, too.”
She looks so fucking uncomfortable right now that it’s taking everything in me not to reach out and hug her.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I offer her a tentative smile before turning and glaring at the Sheriff. “If you insist on staying, perhaps you can start lunch,” I hiss. He raises his hands in apology before walking away without another word.
“Men,” I mutter under my breath as I hear Dawn’s footsteps following me. I lead her out the back and down to my barn. She waits as I unlock it and let her in. She hovers nervously near the door once it closes, watching me as I grab the bag from the table. I open it for her to see.
“Use the cream twice a day. Apply it directly to the affected area, and you should feel relief immediately. In a few hours, you should notice a difference visually too.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s no problem.” I lift out the jar and show her the bottom where my number is. “In case you want to order more, or you need anything else from me. Anything else at all.”
Her eyes turn glassy, but she manages to keep the tears at bay as she thanks me again.
“And this is for Hannah.” I show her the bracelet. “It’s for protection.”
This time, a single tear escapes before she can hold it back. “I have to go. I can’t be gone too long.”
“Okay.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It’s on the house.”
“Oh, I can’t—” She tries to hand it back, but I reach out and push the bag gently to her chest.
“Yes, you can—you will.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Calliope.”
“You’re welcome, Dawn.”
She reaches for the door, pushes it open, and steps outside, letting the warm sunlight spill in along with a soft breeze that swirls her hair around her face.
“Oh, Dawn?”
She turns to look at me.
“I do have one question. Why do you smell like gasoline?”
She freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. Her mouth opens and closes, her fear swirling between us, and yet I can’t feel any kind of malicious intent. I have to assume the house doesn’t either, as there was no warning signal.
“My…car. I spilled some while filling up my car,” she splutters out what would be a plausible excuse if it didn’t look like she was going to pass out from fright.
“You know I’m not the villain everyone seems to paint me as. If you ever need to talk, I’m a good listener.”
She swallows hard, swiping a tear before nodding and hurrying away.
I sigh, leaning against the worktop. She’s more than capable of finding her way out, and I doubt she’d try anything with the sheriff inside. Funnily enough, I don’t think she had anything to do with the poisoned pasture. But I now know who is responsible.
“Dammit, why does everything have to be so complicated?”
Needing a break from Shepard and Riggs, I stay hiding out in my barn for a little while, repotting some of the shoots into bigger pots so they don’t get root bound and organizing what to plant next, according to the season. I’m wondering if my gift might circumvent that a little.
That leads my mind to skip over other possibilities.
Riggs asked me to think about what to do with this place before making any rash decisions, and he might be right.
If I can make things grow here, despite the wasteland this place seems to have become, I might find a use for all the soon-to-be-empty pastures.
I crack my neck and wash my hands, using a little brush to get the dirt out from under my nails before drying them. With a reluctant sigh, I head back inside, following the smell of garlic and oregano.
Music plays softly from Shepard’s phone, which is propped up on the island. He hums along as he chops fresh basil. He’s ditched the hat and his gun belt, which sit on the table. His gun is near him on the counter.
“You just gonna stand there and watch, or do you want to come help out?”
“I’m just going to stand here and watch.”
He grins wickedly as he looks at me. “What’s the matter, Poppy? You scared?”
“Only of your ever-growing ego. I’m scared that if I stand too close, it will smother me.”
He chuckles before nodding to the spot beside him. “Grate the parmesan. Food’s almost ready.”
“It smells good.”
“It’s just pasta.”
“Given the kind of pasta I’ve had to eat over the years, somehow I doubt that.”
He loses his smile at that, but he doesn’t say anything.
I move next to him and start grating the cheese. “Shouldn’t you be off chasing bad guys or something?”
“In this town?”
I look up at him and frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, in a town this size, there aren’t exactly many bad guys to catch.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m sure I could think of a few.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sure you could. Of course, you might need that pesky thing called evidence.”
I snort. “Not always.”
My comment shuts him up, and we both go back to getting the food ready, only the silence is a little less comfortable than before.
“How about when I’m here, I leave the badge and hat in that chair. I’ll just be Shepard the man, not the sheriff.”
“And I’ll be Calliope the woman, not the killer?” I shake my head. “The world doesn’t work that way. We can’t make those things disappear when they’re between us for a reason.”
He sighs, turning to the stove, where I watch him for a moment as he adds pasta to the large pan of boiling water. “You know, I didn’t always want to be a cop.”
“Really? You give off that vibe.”
“What vibe?”
“The one that says you were born for it. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if you shot out of your mother’s birth canal brandishing handcuffs.”
“Thank you for that disturbing imagery.”
“You’re welcome. I’m here all week.” I wink, snagging a grape tomato from the counter and tossing it into my mouth.
He places the lid on the pot before turning to face me. “I wanted to be a hockey player.”
“Really? Wait, where did you grow up?”
“Minnesota. Until I was twelve.”
“Why did you move?”
He leans against the island before answering. “I was playing a home game. My parents and brother were late, and I was getting pissed because we only lived twenty minutes from the rink.”
I frown. This isn’t going to be a happy story.
“They stopped to get gas and got carjacked. My dad and little brother were shot and killed. They took my mother with them. They raped and killed her before dumping her on the side of the road.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry.” I move to him, wrapping my hand around his arm.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but I bet it still feels like yesterday for you.”
He looks at me, his jaw tense, before he nods. “I was throwing a tantrum while they were dying. While my mom was—”
I step into him and press my head to his chest. “You were a kid. Kids are little shits. We were all like that once.”
He sighs, bringing his arms around me. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“They ever catch who did it?”
“Yeah, Leroy Jones and Malcom Fargo. They were arrested a day later, but the cops fumbled the investigation, fucked up, and made it so none of the evidence was viable. Both guys walked away. I moved down here to live with my grandparents. My grandfather died not long after I became a cop. My grandmother died a few years later. She went to sleep one night and never woke up. It was fitting, after losing her daughter in the most violent of ways, to go out peacefully, but I know she’d have traded places with her in a heartbeat. ”
“That’s how love is supposed to be. None of us would walk into hell for the fun of it. But to spare someone we loved, we wouldn’t blink. Or at least that’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m glad she’s at peace now, and they’re all together again.”
“Me too. You ever loved someone like that, Poppy?”
I pull away and shake my head. “No. And sometimes, I think maybe it’s better that way.”
I expect him to disagree, but he nods, a faraway look in his eye.
“Maybe.”