Charlotte's Homecoming

“DAD THINKS THEY’LL LET HIM come home on onday, but he’s still going to be bedridden for a couple of weeks,” Charlotte said, while she used the steak knife to cut a bite of filet mignon.

“Are you two going to be able to take care of him and run the business, too?” Ben Wheeler asked.

They were in a booth at the River Fork Steakhouse, their dinners in front of them. They had already gotten the getting-to-know-each-other stuff out of the way. She’d learned that he had grown up in Los Angeles and been a lieutenant with the LAPD when he decided he’d like a different lifestyle and had looked around for a small town that needed an experienced cop to head its police department.

“It’s a change,” he said, not sounding so sure the change was a good one. “I didn’t expect the politics.”

“Politics?” she asked, surprised.

“The city council. Some days, our esteemed councilors make me wish for a good old-fashioned liquor-store holdup.”

Charlotte had laughed, but he’d looked as if he almost meant it. Small town policing must be considerably more aggravating than it had looked from afar.

After hearing about what she did for a living and sympathizing about the layoff, he’d asked about her father and their plans for the farm.

“Faith has thrown herself into this heart and soul,” she said. “But she’s a teacher, too. Kindergarten. In just a few weeks, she’ll be getting her classroom ready. I haven’t started looking for a job yet, but I can’t imagine staying past September, say. I don’t want to run an antique store slash produce market slash corn maze.”

It was a cry from her heart. Helping out for a few weeks, sure, but she couldn’t imagine what made Faith want to do this long-term. And Dad, laconic at the best of times, was not a man made for retail work. But if they hired too much help, they’d pare their small profit down to nothing.

Faith, Charlotte was very much afraid, had her finger in a dike that was going to crumble no matter what.

“Well, we’ll see,” she said with a sigh.

“Could be your sister didn’t want to spend too much time thinking after the divorce,” the man across the table from her observed. “This was one way of keeping busy.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Reluctantly she examined the idea. Faith had always clung to the familiar. She’d never considered going far away to college. To her, it had seemed completely natural, after graduating, to apply for a teaching job in her hometown, and marry a boy she’d known since high school. That was the life she’d always wanted. But then Mom died, Faith had to give up on her marriage, and Dad started talking about selling the farm. Too much change.

She couldn’t save Mom or her marriage, but the farm was different. So she’d focused all her desperate need for a predictable life on this long shot. God knows, Charlotte admitted to herself, Faith had melded creativity and hard work to succeed to an astonishing extent. Just … not enough. Especially given that business was sure to become something between slow and nonexistent come winter.

She reminded herself that somehow, Dad and Faith had eked through the last year.

Uh-huh. On Faith’s paychecks from the school district.

“You haven’t mentioned the fire,” Charlotte said, changing the subject. “Did you learn anything today?”

“None of the neighbors saw a thing.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“No,” he agreed, and took a bite before adding, “I talked to Hardesty. He gave me an earful about you. Said of course you’d blame him.”

“Jerk,” she muttered.

“Insisted he loves Faith and knows how important the farm is to her.”

Charlotte scoffed under her breath.

“Yeah, that could be taken one of two ways, couldn’t it?” Ben remarked. “I’ll tell you, though, my gut feeling was that he didn’t do it.”

Every instinct Charlotte had disagreed, but it was true that she was biased. “So now what?” she asked.

“I couldn’t track Coffey down today. His mom says he’ll be home tomorrow.”

Charlotte nodded.

“Your sister ever considered getting a big dog?”

“We had a dog when I was growing up, but the highway is a worry, and what good would a dog do if he was kenneled or in the house at night?”

“Dogs bark. You’d have an early warning system.”

“That’s true.” She thought about it for a moment before agreeing, “I’ll suggest it to Faith. She’s always loved animals.”

“Just don’t let her bring home a cute puppy. You need a dog with some teeth right now.”

He must share some of her unease, Charlotte thought, or they’d be talking about something else. Like their favorite music or how they felt about people who used the express checkout in the grocery store even though they had too many items. Whether they were morning people or night owls. The little stuff that mattered, when a man and woman were drawn enough to each other.

“Was it Gray who hired you?” she heard herself ask, and cringed inwardly.

Ben didn’t look surprised at her question. “I guess you could say so, although I had the impression the city council had a pretty strong voice.”

“So you must be doing okay at politicking,” she pointed out.

He sawed at his steak with unnecessary force. “They didn’t hate me then. You’re right about that. Their enthusiasm for me started to wane when I told them know how grossly understaffed and underequipped their police department was. Asking them to open the checkbook was the equivalent of giving a woman a poison ivy bouquet on the first date.”

Charlotte laughed. The smile was still lingering on her mouth when her gaze was drawn to a man walking into the restaurant. Gray, wearing the suit from earlier, although he’d now added the coat.

He was scanning the restaurant as he walked in, just as she’d noticed Ben doing. Ben was probably assessing diners for their likelihood of turning violent, though, while Gray presumably had voters on his mind. No matter what he was thinking, what it meant was that he saw her as quickly as she saw him. His stride checked as he looked at her, then at Ben, who was turning his head to see what had caught her attention.

Charlotte’s stomach knotted at the expression on Gray’s face. Shock, followed by … She wasn’t sure. Anger? Hurt? Something that darkened his eyes and made a muscle jump on his jaw.

Someone called his name, and he very deliberately turned away to greet a couple at one of the tables with an easy smile. Charlotte looked away from him to find that Ben was contemplating her. He didn’t say anything, though, for which she was grateful.

She asked him about juvenile crime in West Fork and whether drugs were getting to be a problem here, but didn’t hear his answer. She was too conscious of Gray, making his way around the restaurant, pausing at almost every table to shake hands and exchange a few words with people. She couldn’t seem to make herself take a bite. She felt sick and guilty, and mad because there wasn’t any reason in the world for her to feel either. She didn’t want to know what her face gave away when he reached their booth.

“Ben. Charlotte.” He didn’t seem interested in shaking either of their hands.

Humor in his voice, Ben said, “You stop by every Friday and Saturday night just to glad-hand?”

“Actually, I’ve usually had enough of the good citizens of West Fork by dinner time. No offense,” he said politely to Charlotte. “I’m having dinner with Ed Tolman and Don Scheff.”

Ben nodded, looking unsurprised.

“City council members?” Charlotte ventured. She’d gone to school with a couple of the Tolman kids. Ed owned the hardware store in town.

“Yeah.” Ben smiled at her. “Didn’t you see me sink down in the booth when they came in?”

Why didn’t a smile that wicked make her heart go pitty-pat? Because I’m an idiot, she mourned.