Page 19 of Now and Then

“So you say.” His voice is laced with frustration. Suddenly a fish takes the bait on Hunter’s pole and runs, but he sets the hook, quickly reeling it to shore. I run for the fishing net, but when I turn back, Hunter’s already got the fish in his hand and is removing the hook. He slides the trout back into the water and watches it swim away.

“Let’s head back,” Hunter says. He turns his back to me and puts his fishing pole away. I snatch the picnic blanket and toss it into the ATV. Within minutes, we’re on the road back to the house.

Tears prick my eyes, but I wipe them away. There’s one thing I hate more than disappointing people—disappointing Hunter. Whatever this is between us has always been a simmering volcano, and I’m afraid after what happened in Colorado, we won’t ever cool the inferno.

But after everything that happened with my ex, I locked my heart inside an iron box.

Then, when Dad died . . . I threw the iron box to the bottom of the sea. You can’t get your heart broken that way.

But just because you’ve buried your heart at the bottom of the sea doesn’t mean it stops working.

“Hey, now.” Hunter reaches across the seat back and squeezes the base of my neck in that steadying way he always does. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

I let the tears fall freely now, my heart pumping wildly inside its fortress. Because I’m not sure what’s worse: knowing I’m in love with Hunter or knowing I’m too scared to let him love me the way he wants to.

4

Hunter

There’s a subtle hum of energy inside the station this morning. The designers and contractors are here planning for the remodel. Granted, I’m not complaining. Our station has needed an update for a few decades now. As it stands, we’re giving off a 1960s vibe, complete with tan-orange walls and mud-brown accents. The community desks are all crammed together behind a front counter. It’ll be a breath of fresh air to have a quieter place to work soon.

I know Sutton wanted to land this job, but even I knew her chances were slim. She’s a good realtor, and I’m sure she’d be just as good of a designer, but a job this size is going to take background knowledge.

I’m proud of her for having the confidence to apply, but remodeling my house will be a better first step for her—if she’s not too stubborn to take it on.

My shift starts in about an hour, but I’m early, like always. Once the other officers get here for briefing, the office transforms into a gossip-filled henhouse—something I avoid at all costs.

I set my coffee cup on my shared desk, adjust my sidearm, and sit down to catch up on reports.

“Hey, Hunter.” Oliver, one of our new office clerks taking over after Margie retired last month, steps up to the desk.

“Morning, Oliver.”

I don’t bother looking away from my computer, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m not one for morning conversations. I miss Margie. She knew how I worked. In fact, she knew this station like the back of her hand. Unlike Oliver.

“How was your weekend, sir?” He leans against my desk, crossing his feet at his ankles.

I sit back in my chair and rest my arms over my stomach. “It was pretty quiet. Worked on my barn mostly.” Anything to keep my mind off a certain redhead.

It’s been a few days since I found Sutton at the bar, drowning her sorrows over not getting the remodel project. A few days since I let some of these feelings I’ve kept buried out. Days that have felt like an eternity, since she hasn’t seen, called, or texted me. But I’ve got no one to blame for her radio silence except myself. I should have kept my mouth shut, but it’s getting impossible not to.

“I didn’t know you had horses,” Oliver says. “I used to ride horses as a kid.”

I stare at him. It’s way too early in the morning for this. “I don’t have horses.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” He shuffles side to side. “Any news on the Magnolia Road property? Never thought our town would be involved in something like this.”

Suncrest Valley is normally a pretty sleepy town, and we hardly have anything exciting going on. Recently though, we’ve had an influx of new residents coming to escape the big city. It’s great to see our town growing, but with growth comes an increase in crime.

“No town is immune to crime,” I tell him, turning back to my computer. “You’ll learn that pretty fast working here.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he says. “You know, if you ever need any help, I’d love to—”

The door to the briefing rooms slams open, bouncing off the wall behind me. Officers spring up from their desks as our police chief strides into the room. I push my chair out, about to do the same, when Chief places his hand on my shoulder. Oliver buttons his lips, eyes wide as saucers.

“Hunter,” Chief Rhodes says, “I want to hear what you’ve got so far on this narcotic case. Stop by my office later.” It’s not a request. “C’mon, everyone,” he says, striding into the conference room. “Briefing starts in fifteen.”

“Good luck with that.” Oliver turns abruptly and heads back to the front counter.