Cynthia Thomason - High Country Cop

She returned his smile with her own flirty grin. “Somehow you don’t seem like an old cop.”

Allie sauntered off to another table, and Carter just stared at his friend. “Could you be more obvious, Sam?”

“Sure could. Watch and learn, my friend. By the end of the night I’ll have her phone number and a few other vital statistics.”

Despite the troubling day Carter was having, he smiled. “I don’t doubt it.”

“What’s with the glum expression you were wearing when I got to the table, Carter? You seem down even for you. Something bothering you?”

Carter didn’t appreciate the unwarranted critique of his personality. He didn’t think he was a downer. He was just a guy who’d loved and lost not one woman, but two, and was working his way back up the emotional ladder. And despite that ladder appearing to reach into the clouds sometimes, Carter thought he was doing darn well. “Not especially,” he said.

“Then my guess is, this has something to do with an old girlfriend coming to town,” Sam said.

Carter settled back on his stool and shook his head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Who told you about that?”

“Betsy. She was practically bursting with the news. Says she remembers you and this Miranda gal from when you were both in high school.” Sam took a long sip of beer. “Kinda romantic if you ask me—two sweethearts meeting up again. Bet you were prom king and queen.”

Carter wasn’t about to admit that Sam was only half-right. Miranda had been beaten for the crown by a Winchester Ridge debutante. Carter’s dance with the queen had seemed like the longest of his life while Miranda stood on the side and watched.

“Who cares about all that high school stuff?” he said. “It’s all history.”

“Got it. And it’s apparent you want to change the subject.”

Sam opened his menu, though like most of the locals he probably had it memorized by now. “What do you feel like eating, Carter?”

“Fried chicken,” Carter said. “Won’t be as good as Mom’s, but it won’t be bad either.”

“Make that two.” Sam called Allie to the table, shamelessly flirted with her again and ordered. Then his gaze wandered to the door, and Carter’s soon followed—and lingered. Miranda and her daughter had obviously picked the River Café for their supper. What were the odds of that since the tourist guide showed at least ten restaurants in town?

Sam chuckled. “I see you noticed her, too, Carter. Tells me your cold heart is at least still beating.”

“That’s her,” Carter said in a hoarse whisper. “That’s Miranda and her kid.”

“She has a kid?” Sam looked genuinely disappointed. “Is she married?”

“Didn’t Betsy tell you that, as well? She was married, but she’s divorced now.”

“Oh, that’s cool, then. You want them to join us?” Sam started to raise his hand.

“No. That’s the last thing I want. I’m already wishing I was at any other restaurant in town but this one.”

A restaurant employee led Miranda and Emily to a table in the bar. They were almost seated when Emily noticed Carter. “What did I tell you, Mom? There’s the policeman, so we did see someone we know.” She scurried over to Carter’s table. “Hello, what’s your name again?”

Carter told her.

“Hi, Mr. Cahill. Mom told me to call you by your last name. She said it’s respectful.”

“Hello.” Carter fumbled for words. He didn’t know how to talk to little girls, especially Donny Larson’s kid. “Your name’s Emily, right?” Of course he knew, but asking filled in a short block of time.

“Emily Larson,” she said.

Carter introduced her to Sam, who complimented her Minions T-shirt. There was no female too young for Sam to charm.

Carter thought she’d go back to her table, but she stood there with her little hands gripping the side of his table. For a moment, Carter had a flashback of other small hands that might have reached out for him if Fate had dealt him a better future. “Is there something else you wanted, Emily?”

She hunched one shoulder. “No.”

Miranda ambled over to the table. “Come on, Em. We have our own table and you’re bothering Officer Cahill and his friend.”

True enough. Carter was bothered plenty by this whole situation, not the least of which was trying to make conversation with this miniature mirror image of Donny Larson. It didn’t help that seeing Miranda with her child only brought back memories of his own losses.

And then there was the way Miranda looked. A bit tired perhaps, but that didn’t detract from her put-together style. She’d changed from her business attire when they’d met at the Jefferson cabin. Her hair was casual, pulled back in a short ponytail reminding him of...well, reminding him of lots of things. She had on a pair of jeans that fit just right and a pink blouse tucked in to flatter her figure. Her thick bangs fell just short of her eyes, drawing attention to their unforgettable blue color.

“Imagine this,” Miranda said. “Running into you twice in one day, and me only arriving in town this morning.” Her voice quavered slightly as if the coincidence was not one she relished.

Carter introduced her to Sam, who thankfully kept his limited knowledge of their past to himself. “How did things go after I left Liggett Mountain?” Carter asked.

“Okay, I guess,” she said. “Lawton needs so much help. Because of your profession, you probably know that a lot of men released from prison are incarcerated again within three years.”

Sure he knew that. It was his business to know.

“Readjusting to life is difficult for many of the released,” she added.

Yeah, and Lawton would no doubt experience the most trouble with trying to settle back into the town he’d violated so badly. “You’ll have to excuse me for saying this,” Carter said. “But maybe Lawton would have been better off to move to another location instead of back in with his brother. That combination spelled trouble before, and it could again.”

Miranda started to respond, but Sam cut in. “I thought you said Lawton before. You’re talking about Lawton Jefferson?”

Miranda stood a little straighter, as if she was used to hearing negative reactions to the mention of her cousin’s name. “He’s my cousin,” she said. “I’ve come to town to help him get settled.”

Sam looked at Carter. “Lawton’s not in trouble already, is he?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Then why did you go visit the Jefferson boys today?”

“You know why.” Carter was becoming irritated and aware that anything he said might set Miranda off again. “Dale’s vehicle was seen in the alley behind the hardware store. I went up to Liggett to get some answers from him. My visit had nothing to do with Lawton.”

“Lawton didn’t do anything wrong,” Emily said in defense of her cousin.

Miranda put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Carter knows that, honey.” Addressing Sam, she said, “It’s my opinion that Lawton’s biggest obstacle to finding success after release might be the way the people in this town have selective memories. They remember why Lawton was arrested, but conveniently forget that he served his time.”

Sam gave Carter a look that said he was aware that this was a prickly situation.

Feeling the need to smooth things over, Carter said, “If there’s anything my guys or I can do to help...”

Miranda’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Carter. I know we got off on the wrong foot this morning, but I truly believe you mean that.”

Did he? Was he willing to help Lawton adapt to life in Holly River? Not really. He’d more likely help him move to the next town over in the county.

Allie delivered two chicken dinners to the table, and Miranda started to lead Emily away.