Anywhere with You

“Benedicto,” she murmured, her voice catching as she got to her feet. “I can’t believe you’re really here. You’re a man now. Tall and handsome.”

Wrinkles lined her face. Her eyes looked tired. Partly because of him, he imagined. And partly because of the lies she’d been unable to keep straight over the years. All variations on a theme. Why his father never came to see them. Why they’d left the house he and Claudia had loved. Why they had no grandparents or cousins. And finally, that his father was dead. Regardless of the cause, her dark brown eyes were filled with sadness, and his chest tightened in unexpected sympathy.

“Hello, Mom.” He went to her and she opened her arms to him. A tear slipped down her cheek just before he hugged her. Some of the resentment that had weighed him down lifted as memories—good ones—from his early childhood rushed through his mind.

All was not forgiven, though. He still had questions, and if she thought him being here absolved her of the lies and deceit, she was wrong.

When she finally released him, Ben expected her to lead him to the table so the long overdue talk could begin. But after she ran a hand down his chest, she went straight to the fridge.

Ben sighed. She would fill him with a homemade meal, tell him...whatever, and barely look at him again. At least he recognized the ground rules: she wouldn’t tell the truth and he wouldn’t confront her. The relief was instantaneous. He was off the hook for now. And so was she. But he wasn’t leaving Montana without knowing exactly what happened with his father.

* * *

GRACE SENSED SOMEONE standing behind her and turned to see Roy looking over her shoulder as she finished her end-of-shift report. “Yes? Did you want something?”

“Give out any more tickets today?” Roy chuckled. “Can’t believe you cited Ben. I bet that pissed him off real good.”

“Not my problem.” She shuffled some papers and obscured Roy’s view. “He shouldn’t have been speeding.”

“That hard-ass attitude ain’t gonna win you any friends around here.”

A sarcastic remark almost slipped out. But that would be stupid. Curious, she asked, “So, you wouldn’t have given him a ticket?”

Roy walked over to the coffeemaker sitting on a metal filing cabinet. Only the two of them were in the office. Danny was out on patrol, and it was Wade’s day off. And Gus, he worked a couple days a week. She’d never heard of a part-time deputy position before.

Roy’s eyebrows drew together as he refilled his mug. He’d never impressed her as someone who thought before speaking.

“It’s not a trick question, Roy. I’m honestly just curious.”

He studied her for a moment, then dumped a ton of sugar into his coffee. “I doubt it,” he said finally.

“Does anyone ever give speeding tickets?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Out on the highway. But here? Not too often. Usually it’s the high school kids we stop. Or tourists.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “That’s good to know.”

“No problem.” Frowning, he concentrated on stirring his coffee.

She wanted to tell him not to worry. He wasn’t consorting with the enemy. She was merely another deputy trying to do her job. And contrary to popular belief, whoever was named acting sheriff wasn’t guaranteed a permanent position. The November election would settle that.

In the meantime, they didn’t have to be friends, but it would be nice to have a tension-free work environment. Roy could be decent at times, Danny was a follower, but Wade was a problem. The self-appointed ringleader had quit the department months ago and then returned thinking he’d slide right into the vacant sheriff’s position. Roy wanted the job, too, but when it came down to it, he was no match for Wade.

According to Clarence, Noah didn’t think either man was qualified. But knowing her uncle as she was beginning to, she’d be wise to believe only half of what he told her.

Roy sipped from his chipped blue mug, staring at her over the rim. “You think you’re gonna like it here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s very different from where I grew up.”

“I’ve been to Texas once,” he said. “But not Arizona.”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve been this far north. It’s pretty country, though I’m not too anxious to drive in snow.”

“Ah, you’ll get used to it. We keep the roads clear.” Roy sat down, which delighted her.

They were both officially off duty. He usually left the moment he finished his report. Instead, they were having a civilized conversation.

“You lived in Tucson, right?”

“No, about eighty miles west of the city. I grew up in a fairly small town. Maybe twice the size of Blackfoot Falls.” Her father had been the sheriff there for thirty-two years before he had retired. Just as her grandfather had held the office before him. It hurt to think she would never carry the torch.

“Were you close to the Mexican border where they have all those drug problems?”

“Close enough to keep us on our toes.” She hoped he didn’t pursue the subject of drugs or anything that would lead to questions about her last job.

“See, I’d take snow over chasing drug dealers or cartel honchos any day,” he said with a grin.

Grace relaxed. “You have an excellent point.”

“Now, I heard you were part of a joint task force with the DEA and Tucson PD. Is that right?”

Her heart sank. Being as truthful as possible was her best bet. “Briefly,” she said, wondering if she was being set up. Had Roy pretended to befriend her to dig for dirt? Or was he just curious? “When the cartels switched routes to ship the drugs north, some of the outlying counties were forced to become involved. We were one of the lucky winners.”

Roy frowned, shaking his head. “That’s rough. I mean, you don’t sign up for that horse pucky, and all of a sudden, it’s on your doorstep. Bet you were glad to leave that crap behind.”

Grace smiled. There was no cunning plot to uncover her past. The guy was simply trying to make conversation.

Her cell rang. She saw it was Clarence and hesitated, not sure she wanted to answer. Though he’d find her eventually.

The second she said, “Hello, Mayor, what can I do for you?” she realized she’d made a face, and that Roy had seen it.

* * *

THE WATERING HOLE was crowded for a Sunday evening, every wobbly table and mismatched chair taken. Grace suspected Rachel’s friends had something to do with the abundance of cowboys sidled up to the old mahogany bar or playing pool in the back room. Katy and the other two bridesmaids were there. So was another woman Grace recognized from the party. The four of them were having a fine time flirting and dancing.

Grace felt badly for occupying a table for forty minutes. But she’d stupidly expected Clarence to show up at 6:30 p.m. like he’d promised. Meeting here hadn’t even been her idea. He’d claimed he wanted her to meet a couple of his friends and, trying to be cordial, she agreed.

Now she was thinking it might’ve been a ploy to force her to get out and mingle with the townsfolk. She had no problem with that since she wanted to get to know people. But in her own good time. In fact, she’d visited The Watering Hole twice already. The drinks were cheap, the people friendly, the decor quaint, but of course, the atmosphere was nothing like the neighborhood bar she’d frequented with her cop buddies in Tucson. The reminder that her life had changed forever depressed her.

On the upside, she liked Sadie, the older woman who owned the place. Most of the area’s hired hands dropped by at some point during the week, and they all knew better than to break one of her rules. It was awesome how she’d get a rabble-rouser to tuck his tail with just a single look.

Grace returned the smile of a good-looking blond cowboy sitting two tables down, eyeing her. If it turned out he couldn’t tell the difference between a friendly smile and a flirty one, she wasn’t worried. He’d cool off the moment he found out she was the new deputy. It had worked like a charm so far.

Taking a sip of her now-warm beer, she waited impatiently for Nikki to deliver pitchers to the pool players. Grace wanted to catch her so she could pay her tab and take off.

The door opened and she glanced over, hoping it wasn’t her uncle. Ben strolled in, pausing, his gaze sweeping the bar. Grace looked down and took another gulp of the disgusting beer. She’d be foolish to think he wouldn’t see her. Even so, he’d most likely ignore her. She’d done something very stupid...stopping Trace and not giving him a ticket...Ben had to have heard...

“It’s Ben!”