Lisa Dyson - Prince Charming Wears A Badge

Instead of sitting next to her on the glider, he pulled a rocker closer and sat before taking a long swallow of ice-cold beer. “Mmm, that’s exactly what I needed.”

When Callie remained silent, he grasped for something to say in the uncomfortable silence. “Bad day?”

She set her beer on the small, white-wicker end table next to the glider and folded her hands on her lap. “Let’s just say that days in Whittler’s Creek are nothing like what I’m used to.”

“How’s the cleaning going at the community center?”

“We made a huge dent today, but there’s still a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Must be exhausting work. You have an office job, right?”

“I do.” She picked up her beer and took a sip. “It’s not so much the physical toll. I work out several mornings a week.” She set the beer back on the table. “It’s the filth. I swear this must be the first time in a dozen years that some of that stuff has been touched with a cleaning rag.”

“You’re probably right. Do you think you’ll be done after tomorrow?”

She hesitated, as if considering his question. “If we get the same amount of people to help out as we did today, I think we have a good chance of finishing.”

“Great.” But he’d said it jokingly. “That means I’ll have to find something new for you to do after Friday’s soup kitchen.”

“I’d prefer more work like at the soup kitchen, but I’m sure you’ll come up with something disgusting like picking up trash and cleaning out grease traps.” She sounded resigned to the fact.

He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She tucked her bare feet under her. “How was training? I think that’s what Poppy said you were doing tonight.”

He nodded. “It went well. I inherited my three officers and decided they could use regular training. So we work on something different every week. Tonight we did target practice at the gun range over in Lewisburg.”

“Seems more like playing than working.” She sounded as if she could use something like that.

“That’s how I’ve tried to structure the training so everyone wants to participate. How was your evening?” he asked. “I hope my girls haven’t been too annoying.”

“They’ve been fine. I didn’t really see them much after dinner.”

“Were they playing outside or did Aunt Poppy take them out somewhere?”

“I don’t know. I was in my room.” She paused. “I now have a standing appointment with my therapist on Wednesday evenings.”

He was surprised at her admission, although he already knew from her therapist that she had court-ordered sessions. He didn’t know why and didn’t feel he should ask. Instead he said, “My daughters have been seeing their therapist for over a year now and they’ve gotten a lot out of it. I hope you get a similar result.”

Callie didn’t say anything while she took a long drink of her beer and then set it back down. “I’m not sure what kind of results I’ll get since seeing the psychologist wasn’t my idea.”

“You’re not happy about having to talk to him?”

Her head shot in his direction. “How did you know my therapist was a man and not a woman?”

His beer was halfway to his mouth when his arm froze. “Because Dr. Hammond is the one who contacted me about your community service hours.”

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot that he would have been the one to speak to you.”

He took a long swallow of beer. “He seems like a nice guy. Although I only spoke to him that one time.”

“He’s okay I guess. He just wants me to talk about stuff that I’d rather not relive.”

He got the distinct feeling there was a lot more to Callie’s past than he knew. “I can’t say enough good things about the girls’ therapist. Believe it or not, when we first came back to Whittler’s Creek, Madison barely spoke.” His youngest daughter was making up for it now with her constant chatter.

“I’m glad it worked out for them, but I was doing just fine without bringing up the past.”

“And that had nothing to do with why you’re doing community service and forced to talk to a psychologist?” The words were out of his mouth before he thought them through. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be argumentative.”

She took a long swallow of her beer, her head back and her neck elongated. “You’re right.” She uncurled her legs and stood. “If I hadn’t confided in a certain jackass, who then used my past against me, then I wouldn’t have been forced to do any of this.” She walked by him to the front door.

He reached out to grab her arm to stop her. The look she gave him made him release her immediately.

She continued to the front door, paused with one hand on the screen door and stared at him. “Thanks for the beer.” She lifted the beer bottle in a toast. “Good night.”

With that, she disappeared into the house, leaving him to go over their conversation and where he’d gone wrong. Not a difficult thing to figure out. Note to self: avoid talking about what she did that caused her to come back to Whittler’s Creek against her will.

Suddenly the front screen door came open and Callie appeared out of breath. “Quick. Your daughter needs you. She’s screaming her head off. Sounds like she’s having a nightmare.”

Tyler jumped up and took off up the stairs to the girls’ bedroom. Just when he was comfortable enough to brag about how well adjusted the girls were, one of them was having a nightmare.

He recognized Madison’s screams before he opened the bedroom door. He rushed to her bed and gathered her in his arms until she quieted. “Hush,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re okay now.”

Madison’s heart pounded rapidly against his chest and her breathing was quick and shallow, even after she finally stopped screaming.

When she seemed calm again, he laid her back on her pillow. Her eyes never opened and she probably wouldn’t remember the episode when she woke in the morning. Thankfully, she rarely did.

If only she could forget the reason for those nightmares in the first place.

* * *

CALLIE HAD FOLLOWED Tyler up the stairs, ducking into her own room while he headed straight to his distraught daughter down the hall.

To make sure everything was okay, Callie stood right inside her doorway to listen. Her entire body was shaking. Hearing one of the little girls crying out in fear had affected her more than she ever would have expected.

Did the girls often have nightmares? What had they been through? Tyler hadn’t shared any details. But obviously something traumatic had occurred if they’d been seeing a therapist regularly.

Tyler’s soothing whispers could be heard as the child quieted to a whimper and then there was silence. Callie found herself comforted by his tone, as well. Her breathing slowed as she began to feel normal again.

After a few more minutes she heard him leave his daughters’ room. She quickly closed her bedroom door as quietly as possible. She didn’t want him to know she’d been listening.

She got ready for bed, hoping to have a dreamless sleep. Like every night of her life, she left the light in the bathroom on so she wouldn’t be in complete darkness while she slept.

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