Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer

He waved, tapping his horn as he passed, and saw Owen’s flash of a grin. The kid raised his casted arm to return the wave, but the movement shifted his weight just enough that he was slightly unbalanced when the front tire hit the edge of a puddle that turned out to be more like a pothole. The bike’s rear tire went up in the air and Owen, not holding on well, did a spectacular endo over the handle bars.

Crap on a stick. Riley slammed on his brakes and pulled his patrol vehicle to the side of the road—half on the grassy parking strip of grumpy old Mr. Maguire, who wouldn’t appreciate it, he knew—and shoved open the door.

When he reached the kid, Owen was sitting beside his bicycle wearing an expression of mingled pain and disgust.

He had mud from chest to knee where he’d fallen and Riley could see a rip in his jeans and a blood smear glimmering through the frayed threads of cotton. Despite the kid’s obvious war wounds, Riley could tell he was trying fiercely not to cry, his mouth pressed in a hard line.

He had been that same kind of kid, stubbornly determined to be tough, and seeing this mini-me version of himself was a little disconcerting.

“You okay, bud?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s voice sounded a little ragged but he cleared his throat. “I think so. Stupid puddle.”

“You’ve got to watch those. You never can tell how deep they are or what’s underneath the water.”

It struck him that while Claire probably wouldn’t appreciate being compared to a mud puddle, the argument could be made that she was much the same. He had a feeling there were hidden depths and pitfalls to her, just waiting to tangle a man up on his handlebars.

Or maybe he just needed to stop thinking about her every blasted minute.

“I do have to say, that was a truly spectacular dive. I’d give it 10 for form and a 9.5 for precision.”

Owen giggled, just as he’d hoped. The shock of the fall was probably beginning to wear off and in Riley’s experience, this was the trickiest point, when the adrenaline rush faded and the pain set in.

“How’s the cast?” he asked. “Did it get banged up?”

Owen lifted his arm and gave it an appraising look in the gathering twilight. “Muddy. My mom’s gonna be mad.”

“I doubt that. It was an accident and we should be able to wipe it down because it’s fiberglass. Can I help you up?”

“Thanks.”

Owen grabbed his hand and rose to his feet. Now that his initial bravado began to fade, he started to look more upset. “I think my bike’s messed up.”

Riley pulled the bike up so he could look. “Well, the forks are bent. That’s going to be a bit tricky to fix but not impossible.”

“I really need it. Now that the snow’s melted, I ride my bike to school a lot.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure we fix it right. Come on, let’s get you home before that rain starts up again. I can throw your bike in the back of my vehicle.”

Owen chewed his lip. “Yeah, only, I’m not supposed to get in a car with anyone else.”

For a half second, Riley remembered his days undercover, grungy and rough. The kids in those desperate neighborhoods didn’t have the same suspicions as their parents. They used to flock around him for candy or the little toys he always seemed to have on hand. It hadn’t been great for his cover as a ruthless criminal and he’d taken heat from his superiors on the outside, but he hadn’t been able to stand their misery. It had become a game between him and the neighborhood kids, trying to come up with creative ways to sneak the goodies on the sly.

“You’re absolutely right to be cautious,” he said now to Claire’s sweet-faced kid, who was always warm and dry and loved. “But let me ask you, what does your mom say to look for if you’re ever in trouble?”

Owen gave him a sideways look, a smile lurking. “A cop, I guess.”

“Well, I’m the police chief, Owen. The top cop in Hope’s Crossing, as a matter of fact. I’ve known your mom since I was younger than you are. You’re safe with me, I swear it. Do you want to call your mom to make sure?”

Owen looked undecided for a moment and then shrugged. “It should be okay, I guess. Sorry. You probably think I’m a dork.”

“I think you’re one smart kid to be careful. Come on, let’s get you buckled up. You’ll have to sit in the backseat. That’s where I put all my tough customers.”

“Do you have handcuffs and everything?”

Riley opened his jacket to the inside pocket where he stowed his cuffs and pulled them out for Owen, whose eyes grew large. “Cool!”

Riley smiled and helped him in, then ensured he fastened his seat belt before he closed the door and headed to the back to make room for the bike.

When he returned to the front seat and pulled back into traffic, he cast a glance in the rearview mirror and was amused to see Owen’s fascination with the patrol vehicle.

“A little late to be coming home from school, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you were in trouble and had to stay after.”

“No way! I’ve never even had I.S.S. That means in-school suspension.”

Riley was familiar with the term. And the regular good old-fashioned suspension and its ugly cousin, expulsion. He had more than a passing acquaintance with every form of school punishment back in his wild youth.

“Did you have soccer practice or something?”

Owen shook his head but didn’t elaborate. Riley had enough experience with reluctant witnesses to know when someone was trying to keep secrets.

He firmly believed a kid was entitled to his secrets as long as they weren’t dangerous. All the same, he was too much of a cop not to be curious. “So what were you doing so late? Over at a friend’s house?”

Owen shook his head.

“Out on a date?” he teased.

“Ew. No!” The kid screwed up his face in horror at the idea.

“Then what?’

“Promise you won’t tell my mom?” he asked after a pause.

“That depends,” he answered honestly. He had a strict policy not to lie to kids for the sake of convenience. Probably because he felt like the first fourteen years of his life when he thought he had a happy, normal family had been basically a lie.

“Are you doing something illegal or is your secret something that your mom needs to know for your safety or well-being?”

Owen snorted. “No, nothing like that.” He paused again. “I’ve been making a present for my mom.”

“Ah, the secret mom present. Got it.”

“You know it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday, right?”

He winced. He’d forgotten that particular day and made a mental note to ask his sisters what Mary Ella might have her eye on. He had to make up for the dozen years of Mother’s Days he’d spent in California. “Thanks for the reminder. Guess I better get shopping.”

“My mom’s birthday is right after Mother’s Day, so I should really be giving her two presents.”

“Ooh, double whammy. That’s rough, man.”