The Sheriff's Second Chance

“It’s far more complicated than it looks.” Ethan tipped back in his springy chair with a groan. “Having her within reach doesn’t change the fact that I totally bungled our whole relationship.”

“Yeah, when you were a clueless boy.” Monica earnestly leaned over his desk. “All teenagers fumble around when they’re first learning the ropes. They love each other, burn each other, rack up the regrets. It’s a learning process. Why, she doesn’t even know how fast you recovered your good sense, that you already wanted her back when she was starting up with Brad.”

“That’s another problem. She managed to find the perfect replacement for me in Brad. She traded up big-time, Monica. Brad was everything any girl could ever ask for, handsome, rich, smart. Even now, I can’t live up to that image—or provide that sort of lavish lifestyle.”

“Who says you have to? Kelsey’s bound to have had all sorts of boyfriends over the past decade. None of them must have satisfied if she’s still single.”

“Maybe she’s holding out for another Brad.”

“Or maybe like you, she’s merely searching for a sensitive person who makes her smile, and who she can rely on. It’s up to you to show her that now you fit the bill. For the life of me I still can’t understand why you never looked her up before.”

Ethan grew silent as he always did when Monica tossed out that particular challenge. There was a good reason why he’d never chased after Kelsey, one he hadn’t shared with anyone. Even now it pained him to think about it.

She simply had to come back on her own. And miracle of miracles, she finally had.

Just the same he realized if he wanted another chance with her, he would have to step up and face the same old risks and fears.

“Do you have any idea how long she’ll be here?” Monica asked.

“No. Sarah wants to get her back for good, though, and will be working on her.” The very idea warmed and excited him.

“Maybe that’s what Kelsey wants, too, if she can make herself at home again without too much hassle.”

“Whatever she wants, I’ve already decided I’m going to help her get it.”

Monica’s eyes widened. “Even if it puts you at odds with Lewis?”

“Yes, even then. I feel I owe it to her after everything that happened.”

“Speaking of Lewis, he’s called a few more times since this morning asking about Kelsey.”

“Of course he has.”

“What will you tell him?”

“Exactly what I know. That she seems healthy and happy.”

“Throw in kind and pretty, too.”

“Will do.” Tipping his chair forward Ethan reached for the phone.

IN SPITE OF HER RATHER uncomfortable chunky heeled sandals, Kelsey almost skipped back to the Cozy Home Café. The Welcome Home side of the sign hung against the glass now. Anxious to see what changes had been made to the old place, she burst inside.

Stepping across the threshold was like diving back in time. Kelsey recognized everything, the booths upholstered in orange vinyl, the tables and countertops of white glittery Formica, the tan flooring, and the ceiling fans whirling lazily overhead.

A long lunch counter lined with stools and punctuated by an ancient cash register dominated the rear and that was where Clare Graham stood, flipping through a pad of guest checks, tallying figures with a pencil. As always, she was dressed in the same old aqua uniform shift accented with white collar and apron.

“Mom!” Kelsey cried.

Taken off guard, Clare turned sharply on the heel of her cushioned white shoe. “Hey, honey!”

It had been eighteen months since they’d seen each other, so Kelsey anxiously assessed her. The decades-old hairstyle never changed, of course, still a dark, shoulder-length curtain topped with feathered layers above the ears. But there were new startling differences. A mass of coarse gray strands now salted the black. Severe lines etched her eyes and mouth. At least ten pounds had dropped from a trim frame that couldn’t afford it.

Clare Graham was a faded version of her former self.

Kelsey rushed across the scuffed linoleum to meet her halfway, cradling her tentatively, as if she might break.

Clare had no such fears as she squeezed her daughter close, cupped her face, soundly kissed her cheeks.

Eventually breaking free, Kelsey locked in on her mother’s emerald eyes, swiftly welling like her own.

“Come and sit down,” Clare invited. “We’ll have lemonade and a nice long chat.” As Clare went back behind the counter, Kelsey took a stool, knowing the cold drink would taste super. After all, little else had changed.

“So where were you, Mom? Just now.”

“I was at the dentist for a filling.” She shook her head as she carried full glasses over. “How I hate to close up like that midday. We’re between the maple-syrup tapping and strawberry-picking festivals, but the odd tourist is still on the prowl. Can’t afford to miss a one.”

Clare had long assured Kelsey that business was good enough. Was that in fact true?

“So, you’re good, honey?” Clare asked anxiously. Reaching over the counter, she took Kelsey’s hand and put it to her cheek. Closing her eyes, she smiled. “This is great. Me and my baby girl.”

A tightness pulled in Kelsey’s chest. Acute home-sickness had finally brought her back. Ironically, being here was making the ache all the worse. If only things could be like they used to be. If only…

They chatted until the creak of the front door and a burst of laughter interfered. Tourists. About fifteen of them, likely off the mid-sized motor coach now parked across the avenue.

Clare shifted into professional mode, dumping their lemonade glasses in the sink. Kelsey craned her neck to look into the silent kitchen.

“Don’t you have any help here today? This is crazy!”

“I told Artie that I wouldn’t be back this soon. He’ll be in later.”

“Artie Quail? Our old mailman is your cook?”

She nodded. “He got bored with retirement. As for Linda, she can be counted on ninety-nine percent of the time, but happened to call in sick today.”

“What about Uncle Teddy? Can’t he fill in?”

“He’s not cut out for business, Kel. He’s an artist.”