Emilie Rose - A Better Man

Piper ripped the clip from her hair and massaged her scalp, then tapped the wheel, urging the light to change. When it finally did she had to resist the impulse to race home. Not even being the chief’s—former chief’s—daughter made her immune to getting pulled over for a lecture. If anything, her father’s deputies had become a little overzealous in their honorary “uncle” roles since her father’s stroke six months ago.

Her father. She sighed. Eight weeks ago the town council had strong-armed him into resigning and told him they’d already begun searching for his replacement.

His bitterness over being stripped of the job that defined him for thirty years festered inside him like an abscess. He’d spread his infectious pus of discontent over anyone within hearing distance.

But why had the town council hired Roth Sterling? Surely there had been better candidates than a troublemaker who’d left town and not once come back to visit?

Her street finally came into view. She saw her mother’s sedan in the driveway of the home they shared and exhaled in relief. If her mother was at home, then maybe Josh would be, too. Piper prayed her son would be in his room, doing his imitation of an uncommunicative adolescent.

She threw the car into Park and raced up the walk. Her mother opened the door before Piper could reach for the knob. “I take it you’ve heard?”

Piper didn’t ask for clarification. “Yes. Where’s Josh?”

“Upstairs. I bought him a new game to keep him occupied until we come up with a plan.”

“Good idea.” Usually Piper didn’t allow her son to veg out on video games until after he’d finished his homework, but today she’d settle for anything that kept him out of sight.

“Piper, what are we going to do?”

The house smelled delicious, a testament to her mother’s stress level. Mom always baked when she was agitated. Piper put down her purse and hung up her jacket then checked to make sure Josh wasn’t nearby. To be on the safe side, she pointed to the kitchen and held her tongue even though her thoughts were tripping all over themselves. They reached the room on the opposite side of the house from his bedroom.

“We’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, but we’ll have to stick with the same story you told everyone before Josh and I came home.”

“Do you think Roth will buy it?”

“I hope so. I can’t believe he came back. He always wanted more than Quincey had to offer.”

More than she had to offer.

Strain lined her mother’s immaculately made-up face. As the town’s only real estate agent, her mother never looked less than magazine-advertisement perfect even when she was baking.

Her mother pulled a cookie sheet from the oven. “I cannot believe the town council kept their choice for chief a secret. They even conducted the interviews out of town. No one said a word about who they’d hired until Roth arrived today. And now everybody’s talking.”

Piper pressed a finger against the tension headache chiseling between her eyebrows. This spelled disaster in so many ways. “Does Daddy know?”

“Who do you think told me? Your father was there when ‘Sterling strutted into the g’damned station like he owned the place.’” She did a pretty good imitation of her husband’s rough drawl. “I thought Lou would have another stroke before I could get him off the phone.”

“I thought the council was being considerate of Daddy by not flaunting the interview process in his face. Now I’m not so sure.”

“It wasn’t considerate, Piper. It was underhanded. They started advertising for his position even before Lou resigned. I should have put the puzzle pieces together when Eloise Sterling canceled the lease on the tenants of her family’s home place. She only gave them thirty days to vacate.”

“How is Daddy taking this?”

“Not well. He immediately started predicting gloom and doom about you know who.” Ann Marie tilted her head toward Josh’s room. “Your father wants to come over and discuss our options.”

Piper grimaced. Great. She’d have to play referee between her parents again. Any time they got together it tended to result in a verbal skirmish with Piper stuck in the middle while they took shots at each other. All because of the choices Piper had made twelve years ago. Guilt weighed on her.

But if she’d given in to her father’s browbeating and gone through with the abortion or her mother’s pleas to give up the baby for adoption, then Piper wouldn’t have Josh, and he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. The negative result was that her decision had started a feud between her parents that hadn’t ended.

They’d tried to keep that secret. Piper hadn’t learned until she’d returned to Quincey after her four-year exile that her pregnancy had ended her parents’ marriage. Well, not ended technically, since they were still legally married, but they lived on opposite sides of town with separate bank accounts, separate lives, and no amount of coaxing on her part had managed to get them to bury the hatchet.

“I’ll talk to Dad.”

“What good will that do? He’s too pigheaded to listen to any opinion except his own. But your father is right about one thing. Roth will find out about Josh.”

Piper’s stomach churned. She should start dinner—and not just to keep her hands and mind occupied. When Josh ventured from his room he’d eat anything that didn’t run from him, and it would be better if his feast didn’t consist of six-dozen cookies.

“Mom, we can’t undo the lies. We have our story, and we’re sticking to it.”

“All Roth will have to do is demand a paternity test.”

Piper had chewed off a couple of fingernails over that prospect this afternoon. “Please don’t borrow trouble. We have enough to worry about already. He didn’t want our child twelve years ago. Let’s hope that hasn’t changed.”

Piper hoped it would be enough. Otherwise catastrophe could strike, and she could lose the most important thing in her life. Her son.

* * *

THE FRONT DOOR OPENED Friday as Piper was preparing to close for lunch. She looked up, expecting to see a frantic pet owner with an emergency.

Roth Sterling filled the doorway—an entirely different kind of crisis. Even without the shoulder-length chestnut waves she’d once loved to run her fingers through there was no mistaking that rugged face, those seductive brown eyes or the mesmerizing mouth that had taught her so much about pleasure.

A lead weight crash-landed in her stomach. The hum of the computer and the yap of the dogs in the kennel in the rear of the building faded into a whir of white noise.

He looked the same. But different. Harder somehow, as if his youth had been chiseled away by age and experience that his spiky short hair only accentuated. His face was leaner, his cheekbones more pronounced. Shallow lines fanned from the corners of his eyes. Beneath a battered brown leather jacket his shoulders had filled out since the last time she’d seen him, held him, made love with him. Watched him walk away.

“Hello, Piper.” Like his body, his voice had morphed into something steelier. Sexier.

But despite all the changes, his effect on her hadn’t altered one iota. Her knees softened like butter in the sun and her breaths shortened. It took effort to force air through her vocal cords. “Hello, Roth.”

He crossed the waiting room, a confident stride replacing his old cocky swagger. Thick thigh muscles strained the fabric of his faded jeans. He’d been lean and rangy at twenty. At thirty-two he looked sinewy and dangerous. “You’re looking good.”

A hot flush started deep inside her, licking through her chest, up her neck and across her cheeks. She cursed the telling reaction.