Cindi Myers - Saved By The Sheriff

“We’ll get together next week for coffee or something,” Anisha said. “If you need anything before then, just call.” She waved and headed for her own car, then Lacy slid into the back seat of her parents’ car and they were off.

They tried to make small talk for a while, but soon fell silent. Lacy rested her head against the window and stared out at the summer-browned city landscape, which quickly gave way to the green foothills, and then the Rocky Mountains. Only five more hours until she was home in Eagle Mountain, the little resort town where her family had settled when Lacy was fourteen. Once upon a time, she had thought she would stay in Eagle Mountain forever, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe there were too many bad memories there for her to ever be comfortable again.

Lacy slept, and woke only when her dad pulled the car into the driveway of the Victorian cottage just off Eagle Mountain’s main street that had been their home for the past ten years. A lump rose in Lacy’s throat as she studied the stone walkway that led up to the front porch that spanned the width of the house, with its white-painted posts and railings and lacelike gingerbread trim. The peonies under the railings were in full bloom, like big pink pom-poms filling the flower beds. A banner over the front steps declared Welcome Home Lacy!

She took her time getting out of the car, fighting the instinct to run up the steps and straight into her room. She was going to have to get used to facing people again, to dealing with their questions about what she had been through and what she planned to do next. She had never been good at that kind of thing, but she was going to have to find a way to cope.

She started up the walkway, but at the top of the steps, she noticed the uniformed man seated in the porch swing and froze. Travis Walker, all six feet of him, made even taller by the cowboy boots and Stetson he wore, stood and moved toward her. “What are you doing here?” Lacy asked, heart pounding madly. Had there been some mistake? Had he come to arrest her again?

Travis removed his hat, revealing thick brown hair that fell boyishly over his forehead. When Lacy had first met him in high school, she had thought he was the handsomest boy she had ever seen. Too much had passed between them for her to think that now. “I came to apologize,” he said. “I know it doesn’t make up for all I put you through, but I wanted to say I’m truly sorry. I’ve done what I can to make up for my mistakes.”

“Your mistakes cost me three years of my life!” Lacy hated the way her voice broke on the words. “You humiliated me in front of everyone I knew. In front of people I’ve never even met. You accused me of the most horrible crime anyone could commit.”

His face showed the strain he was feeling, his brown eyes pained. “I would give anything to take all of it back,” he said. “But I can’t. All I can do is say again that I’m sorry, and I hope you’ll find it in your heart one day to forgive me.”

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness,” she said, and rushed past him, tears stinging her eyes. She refused to break down in front of him.

She paused in the darkened living room, fighting for composure. Her father’s quiet voice drifted to her through the opened screen door. “Give it a few days. This is hard for her—for all of us.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your first day back together,” Travis said. “I just wanted her to know how I felt. It didn’t seem right to wait any longer to apologize. It doesn’t make up for anything, but it had to be said.”

“And we appreciate it,” her dad said. “We appreciate all you’ve done for her. It says a lot about a man when he’s willing to admit he was wrong.”

“I’ll leave you alone now,” Travis said. “You deserve your privacy and I have a lot of work to do.”

“Thank goodness there’s not a lot of crime in Rayford County, but I imagine the job has its challenges,” her dad said.

“It does,” Travis said. “But right now my priority is finding out who really killed Andy Stenson. I know now that Lacy didn’t kill him, but I have to bring to justice the person who did.”

* * *

TRAVIS WALKED AWAY from the Milligan home, down the street shaded by tall evergreens and cottonwoods, up a block to Main. He liked that the town of Eagle Mountain—the only incorporated town in Rayford County—was small enough, and the sheriff’s department centrally located enough, that he could walk almost anywhere. A big part of policing in a rural area like this was simply being a presence. Seeing uniforms on the street made people feel safer, and it made troublemakers think twice about acting up.

He passed under the large banner advertising Eagle Mountain Pioneer Days Festival, the biggest tourist attraction of the summer for the little town, with a parade and fireworks, outdoor concerts, crafts booths and anything else the town council could think of that would entertain people and induce them to stay a few days and spend money.

“Sheriff!”

He turned to see Mayor Larry Rowe striding toward him. Solidly built and energetic, Rowe was a relative newcomer to town who, after a year on the county planning committee, had spent a significant amount of money on his campaign for mayor two years ago—unusual in a town where most public officials ran unopposed. “Mayor.” Travis stopped and waited for the older man to catch up.

“Sheriff, I wanted to talk to you about security for the festival,” Rowe said.

“We’ll have plenty of officers patrolling,” Travis said. “I’m putting all of the reserves on duty, and as many of the full-time staff as possible.”

Rowe nodded. “We don’t want any trouble to detract from the festivities.” He stared down the street, in the direction Travis had come. “I understand Lacy Milligan is back in town.”

“Yes, I stopped by to see her.”

“Oh?” The lines on either side of Rowe’s mouth deepened. “How is she?”

“She’s still processing everything that’s happened, I think.”

“I hope she doesn’t have any plans to sue the city,” Rowe said. “I’ll have to consult our attorney, prepare for that possibility.”

“I don’t think she has any plans to sue,” Travis said.

“Do whatever you can to see that she doesn’t. I have to go now. You’ll keep me posted if any problems arise with the Milligans.”

“Yes, sir.”

The mayor moved on, and Travis resumed the walk to his office. Though he didn’t consider Rowe a friend, he appreciated that the mayor rarely involved himself in the operation of the sheriff’s department. Travis was free to do his job as he saw fit.

A ten-minute stroll took Travis back to the office. His office manager, sixty-eight-year-old Adelaide Kinkaid, who refused to even consider retiring—and was sharper than most thirty-year-olds—looked up from her computer screen. “How did it go?” she asked.

“About like I expected.” Travis hung his Stetson on the rack by the door. “She told me I’d ruined her life and tried not to let me see she was crying.” He shrugged. “In her place, I’d probably feel the same way. I guess I’m lucky she didn’t punch me.”

“You’re already beating yourself up enough,” Adelaide said.

“Why are you beating yourself up?” Deputy Gage Walker, Travis’s younger brother, emerged from his office. Taller than Travis by two inches and lighter than him by twenty pounds, Gage looked like the basketball forward he had been in high school, lean and quick.

“I went over to see Lacy Milligan,” Travis said.

Gage’s face sobered. “Ouch! That took guts.”

“It was the least she deserved. Not that she thinks so.”

“You did what you could,” Gage said. “Now the ball is in her court.”