The Sheriff's Second Chance

Pretty as a picture was the new mother, dressed in a green peasant blouse and denim shorts, her wavy gold hair captured in a ribbon. With bare legs crossed, she bobbed a sandaled foot in time to “Spanish Flea,” an Herb Alpert tune played by two clarinetists from the Whittier High School band busking at the corner. Amused passersby were tossing coins into an upside-down baseball cap.

The boys froze at the sight of him, probably wondering if they needed a permit to play.

Ethan didn’t know or care. “Go ahead, knock yourselves out.”

Happy, they tooted on with gusto.

Peeking at the dozing baby under the buggy’s visor, Ethan leaned against a nearby lamppost. Sarah wasn’t going to be able to avoid him this time. Funny that she’d tried it last night. But she was one tough girl and had kicked him out of the treehouse in her father’s apple orchard more than once. Landing on apples sure did hurt! He still couldn’t bear to eat one.

“Nice day, Sarah,” he greeted genially.

“Perfect.”

“How’s our baby girl doing?”

“Swell. As you can see for yourself.”

“They grow up so fast,” he marveled. “Assert their independence so early.”

She gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

“I could’ve sworn I heard her crying alone in your house last night. Naturally, I got right off the bell. Waited though, to give her a sporting chance to respond but I guess she just couldn’t crawl the distance.”

“Don’t be silly, Ethan.”

“Of course if you had been there, you’d have answered the bell, right?”

“Well, sure. I mean, none of us were there. Must have been the radio you heard. Derek keeps it on when we go out. To fool burglars.”

Her brown eyes were bright and steady in spite of the lie. She and Kelsey could sell anything to anyone back in the day—watered-down lemonade, bruised apples, day-old pastries, all with convincing sincerity. He expected that would still hold true, at least for her.

“So why did you drop by last night, Ethan?”

It was a smart move to ask, knowing she was already trapped.

“I was following up a rumor about Kelsey coming. Is it true?”

“Yes!” She clasped her hands gleefully. “A crazy twist, huh?”

The craziest.

“C’mon, take another look at Amy Joy,” Sarah urged suddenly.

“Why?”

“This time, note the sweet little rosebud dress she’s wearing.”

He leaned back over the pram. “Very nice.”

“Sent to her by guess who?”

“Kelsey.”

“Exactly.” She closed her eyes and smiled up at the sun. “Amy Joy’s only outfit from out of town. Makes her look sharp and unique, like her aunt Kelsey.”

It was becoming impossible to talk over the music. Ethan turned to discover there were now four musicians on the corner. He decided to sit on the bench beside Sarah to make himself heard. “How long have you known about Kelsey’s homecoming?”

“I’ve kept the news under wraps a little while,” she admitted. “There seemed no hurry in giving grudge-toting people time to get worked up about it and plan a negative campaign. So how is Mr. Grudge himself taking it?”

“Lewis is a little worked up.”

“As expected.”

“Is he the reason you pretended not to be home last night, Sare?”

“Okay, yes,” she relented. “Neither Derek or I felt like dealing with the Cutler issue at that hour.”

“He’s bound to have an interest, Sarah. In his mind, Kelsey robbed him of his only child, his main reason for living.”

Sarah’s face hardened suddenly. “You know as well as I do that Kelsey didn’t hurt anyone on purpose. Ever.”

“Still, the fact remains—”

“Cutler and those other fools drove the poor girl right out of town.”

“A college education from Bryn Mawr is hardly a sentence at San Quentin.”

“Oh, but how she struggled to earn it. She had to maintain the best grades to keep scholarships and worked some very crummy jobs.”

“I guess I never realized.”

“Nobody did. Kelsey was forced to take the fall for the accident, then it was out of sight, out of mind.”

“Are you suggesting the case was poorly handled?”

“Sheriff Norton hardly solved it.”

“He couldn’t with so little to go on.”

“I was highly suspicious of his methods even then.”

“What I remember most is struggling with the loss. In the long run, it’s all been about moving on, trying to forget.”

Hoping to regain his composure, Ethan stood, dipped into his blue uniform shirt pocket for his sunglasses and put them on his lean, taut face. But Sarah wasn’t finished with him.

“Maybe it’s time we took a fresh look at the whole mess, put a stop to the anger—encourage Kelsey to move home for good! That’s exactly what I intend to do. Go stuff that in one of Lewis’s big stinky hand-rolled cigars.”

Encourage Kelsey to move home? That was what was behind this? Ethan was completely floored. The idea of having her back in town, so full of fun and wit, was one he’d given up on long ago.

Just then a big motor coach wheezed to a stop at the curb, the way it did every day round this time. Sarah signaled the band of musicians on the corner and they broke into the Whittier High anthem.

Suddenly things all fell into place in the gray matter behind the tinted lenses. Sarah wasn’t out here by chance. Kelsey was due home the same way she’d left, on a Greyhound bus. This Greyhound bus.

Ethan inhaled sharply in anticipation as the bus door folded open.

Passengers disembarked, mostly a stream of UW students home for the summer.

He sensed Sarah standing beside him now, holding her breath, too.

The sliding door remained open but no one else appeared. False alarm maybe. It did seem impossible that after all these years Kelsey Graham was going to walk off this bus or any other bus to ever set foot back in Maple Junction.

Then a figure in a tight, colorfully striped sundress registered in his brain, along with Sarah’s wild scream. It was her! Kelsey. Here! Finally home.

The same old Kelsey, but different somehow.

As Sarah rushed forward to hug her, Ethan took time to readjust his decade-old picture of the cute and curvy girl with wild bleached brown hair and whimsical green eyes. The adult Kelsey was trimmer with a neat brown cap of hair highlighted red. No longer cute but, rather, beautiful—stunning! The only disappointment lay in her eyes. While still as rich and deep as tropical seas, the whimsy was gone, replaced by the tired wisdom of one who’d seen too much, who carried a number of regrets.

Ethan could especially relate on this last count, and all because of Kelsey herself. The biggest regret of his life was that he’d let her get away.

Few in town probably realized their history, or recalled when they’d kicked their tight friendship up a notch. It had been the summer before their sophomore year and their crowd had slowly been starting to date. In Ethan’s opinion Kelsey had possessed a sparkling personality, had been the prettiest girl in class and, unlike most, had always been up for a fevered game of basketball or baseball with the guys. Being such good friends and next-door neighbors, it had seemed natural to ease into some private little dates for swims, hikes and picnics to experiment with their affections, find out what a real kiss felt like.

It was all Ethan thought he’d ever want.

Until autumn, when he became a standout on the Whittier High football field.

He and Brad were the only sophomores on the varsity team and a few clever plays soon ensured their photos were splashed on the front page of the school paper. With celebrity came perks, like acceptance into upperclassmen cliques. Senior girls started calling—girls with cell phones and cars and big ideas! Brad handled it with poise, accustomed to feeling important due to Lewis’s status around town. But Ethan went wild over the sudden attention. He eagerly accepted all invitations to picnics and parties, reveling in his new-found fame.

There was never an invitation for Kelsey, but she didn’t complain when he shot off without her. In fact, she appeared to make light of the whole thing, pointing out that they weren’t even going steady. But deep in his heart he suspected she might care a little bit, as he sometimes caught her watching him forlornly from her stoop as he hopped into a car full of kids at sundown. She didn’t crack so many jokes anymore, either, or barge into the Taggert kitchen to help his mom bake a cake or join his folks in a game of poker.

Just the same, he was too preoccupied to worry about it.

By season’s end, the football-hero novelty started to wear off. The upperclassmen decided that underneath the jersey he was just a kid after all and wouldn’t fit in at their upcoming graduation parties.

Kelsey was indeed still his pal, albeit at a greater, more formal distance. By the start of the Christmas season, Ethan was desperately missing the romance they’d shared and decided to win back her affections.

Busy with his own social life for so long, he hadn’t even noticed he had competition from his best friend, Brad. In hindsight, he realized there had been a few outward signs, like Brad treating Kelsey to a Hostess cup-cake at lunch or offering her a lift home from school in one of the Cutler cars. But at the time, Ethan’s attention was pulled in too many directions to piece it all together. He didn’t get the total picture until the week before Christmas, at Brad’s annual holiday party. Gathered round the Cutlers’giant decorated tree in the great room, small fun gifts were exchanged.

Brad whisked out several boxes for Kelsey but most of them could have been filled with sawdust for all Ethan remembered. The only gift that mattered was the silver friendship band Brad gave her.

And nobody but Ethan appeared the least bit surprised.

As Kelsey gleefully slipped the ring on her finger, it was clear he’d already lost her.

Maybe if she’d made a bigger fuss at the start of his ego trip, he’d have snapped out of it. Or more likely, he should’ve just known better in the first place.

After that, the best Ethan could hope for was a friendship with the happy couple, digging up girls for double dates, making-out with one in the back seat of one of the Cutler fleet, while Brad and Kelsey cuddled in the front.

Then eventually a cruel twist of fate had taken even that much away from him.

Since she’d left town, Ethan had worked to rediscover their magic with someone else. But, it had never happened.

Now the old temptation was back. And Ethan was left holding—of all things—the baby, a sobbing Amy Joy, whom Sarah had awakened with her squeals. He’d seen no option but to pluck her from the buggy and attempt to calm her.

He cuddled the squirmy, howling infant for what seemed an eternity—perhaps sixty seconds—before the girlfriends broke free and Sarah scooted over to take Amy Joy. Cradling the infant, she turned back to Kelsey to give her a closer look. Kelsey stroked the baby’s head, remarking on how cute the dress looked on her.

“What’s wrong, peanut?” Sarah cooed as Amy Joy continued to fuss. “Did that big guy scare you?”

“It was your screaming that scared her in the first place,” he said, inspecting some drool on his freshly pressed uniform shirt to try and settle his nerves. When he abruptly looked up, he caught Kelsey’s gaze. His heart shifted at the indecision there. She must be unsure about him, too.

It made it easier to take charge.

“Welcome home, Kel.” With that simple greeting, he tentatively held out his arms. Miraculously, she slipped into them. As she pecked his jaw, he had to fight off a shiver. Seemed rude not to kiss her back, so he pressed his mouth to her forehead, the safest convenient spot.

Not so safe after all. The brief contact was enough to pick up her familiar body scent mingled with a sweet cologne. Heat rippled clear through him.

She pulled back, appearing more relaxed as she addressed the driver unloading her two suitcases from the storage compartment underneath the bus. Sarah, meanwhile, had put the wailing baby back in the buggy and was paying off the musicians.

The girls met back at point Ethan, now transformed into a dazed uniformed statue.

“I am so sorry, Kel,” Sarah gushed. “I had planned to go over to the café with you, but Amy Joy won’t stop crying so I should take her home. Can you drop by later? Anyone can tell you where we live.”

Kelsey smiled. “I know where you live. The old Hawkins house on Earle Street. I recognized the address all along.”

“Oh! Sure.” Sarah looked sheepish as she gripped the buggy’s handle. “Come over as soon as you can.”

Watching Sarah zip off, Kelsey shifted awkwardly, aware of Ethan lingering beside her. She hadn’t expected to be one-on-one with her special ex-next-door neighbor this soon. “Well, guess I’ll go look up Mom.”

Ethan apparently took this as a signal to grasp her larger suitcase.

“What are you doing, Ethan?”

“Coming along.”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” His warm inviting smile suggested he truly did.

The Cozy Home Café was a mere half block down Harvester near Sixth Street. The Closed sign hung in the glass door but Kelsey jiggled the knob anyway. “She knew I was coming!”

Of course she must have known. But she hadn’t mentioned it to Ethan, or likely anyone else, for the news had only hit the streets yesterday. Like Sarah, Clare probably worried about the negative fallout. She had good reason to be a little jittery. To this day there were people who wouldn’t eat in her café because of the accident. Some because they were related to the kids who’d died, and others who merely hoped to please grief-stricken Lewis in return for a favor from his bank or newspaper. Ethan didn’t believe Lewis was still pressing anyone to avoid the Cozy Home after all these years, but he wasn’t openly endorsing the place either. Ethan had once offered to intervene with him on Clare’s behalf, and she’d become very indignant, claimed she had plenty of business. He’d let the issue lie after that.

“She’ll be right back,” he said quickly, sensing Kelsey’s dismay. “Look, there’s a note saying as much taped to the glass. In the meantime, let’s try not to leave a panic-stricken first impression.” He gently guided her out of the doorway into the sunshine.

“As if I’m guilty of something, you mean?”

“Well, yes.”

“So those scowls I’m spotting aren’t squints in the sunshine. People are still upset with me over the crash.”

He hesitated. “Not everybody.”

“How many? Give me a percentage.”

“I can’t, Kel. It’s not like there are town-hall meetings on the subject. I’m only suggesting you hold your chin up and smile, like a bright successful woman out for a walk with a bright successful man.”

“You mean you?”

He tapped the badge pinned to his shirt. “Sure, me.”

“Where will we go?” she asked bleakly.

“To the sheriff’s office.”

“Great. They’ll think you’re arresting me!”

That did it for Ethan. He busted out laughing.

“So you think that’s funny?” She swatted his arm.

“Uh-oh, striking an officer. Now I do have reason to arrest you.” He gently took her elbow. “Come along quietly and take your medicine. Which at the station, amounts to a very poor cup of coffee.”

The police station was part of the municipal complex that took up most of Seventh Street. Kelsey decided the historic limestone courthouse at the corner of Harvester, with later additions running the length of Seventh, looked much the same as it had a decade ago. It was best described as patchwork architecture, last brought up to date in the seventies. The newer station and county offices, made of aluminum, steel and red brick, were utilitarian one-level extensions, with a mutual basement housing file rooms and jail cells.

Kelsey had seen the inside of a jail cell only once.

After the accident she’d been hospitalized a week while doctors had tended her injuries—cracked ribs, severe skin abrasion, a broken arm, sprained ankle and a very nasty bruise to the head.

Sheriff Roger Norton, no doubt prodded hard by Lewis Cutler, haunted the hospital like a ghoul, taking every opportunity to pop in and interrogate her. Kelsey desperately wanted to help, but she simply couldn’t remember anything. It was a kindly nurse named Nancy Farr who finally advised Clare to hire her attorney husband, Jacob, after she overheard Norton and Lewis Cutler discussing manslaughter charges.

Clare didn’t believe they were serious until Sheriff Norton had tossed Kelsey in jail within an hour of her release from hospital. Clare had just gotten her tucked in bed with a bowl of hot soup and her TV remote when the doorbell rang.

He could hold Kelsey for twenty-four hours on suspicion of murder. It was up to her to start talking, confess to what she’d done.

That was when Clare phoned Jacob Farr. He oversaw Kelsey’s official statement, which described being picked up in Brad’s Jetta, stopping by the Cutlers’ for some home movies and attending the grand march with all their friends. The prom itself was completely lost to her, as were the two hours leading up to the accident. Try as she might, she couldn’t recapture those memories. The doctors concluded that, due to her head injury, she likely never would.

Kelsey was jailed the full twenty-four. Ultimately, the sheriff had no choice but to release or charge her. Meanwhile, her tough Madison attorney had badgered him and the county prosecutor to examine the plain hard facts on paper, and ignore Lewis Cutler’s thirst for vengeance. Even if Brad had been teaching Kelsey to drive a stick shift that spring, nobody had seen her behind the wheel of the Cutlers’ Jetta that night. While Kelsey had earned some speeding tickets driving her mother’s car, she’d never been cited for recklessness. Kelsey had been no wilder than her peers, no matter what the petty rumors had said. In the end, Jacob Farr had convinced them a judge would blast their case out of court.

Now, as Ethan escorted her into the lobby of the station, she averted her gaze from the scarred black steel door that led to the cells.

“Uncomfortable?” Ethan asked gently.

Kelsey realized she was shuddering from head to toe. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“Ready for some rotten coffee? Or maybe some water?”

“No thanks.”

Ethan grinned, removed the suitcase from her grip, and set both pieces out of the way near the water cooler. “Come and sit.”

Kelsey was about to take a chair near the clerk manning the front desk when Ethan protested, “Not there!”

The plump middle-aged blonde hung up the phone and glared at him. “What’s the matter? I suddenly got rabies?”

Ethan studied her keenly. “Who’d dare bite you? Just so happens we were about to do a little reminiscing in my office.”

“You can spare a minute.” She reached over her desk for a handshake. “I’m Monica Blair.”

“This is Kelsey Graham,” Ethan introduced. “Fresh off the bus.”

Kelsey took Monica’s hand, noting a trace of recognition, but detecting nothing mean or judgmental in the woman.

“What brings you to town, Monica?”

“As it happens, Loretta Evensen is my cousin. When she lost her husband to cancer a few years ago, she invited me to come stay awhile. I did and decided to make it permanent. I’m sure you’re wondering, why’d she leave the bright exciting city of San Francisco? Aside from the smog and high rent, I was lonely. Believe it or not, there are actually more straight middle-aged guys around here to choose from.”

“She says all that strictly for effect, Kel,” Ethan mocked. “She got here, spotted Mr. Hinkie, confirmed he owns the hardware store free and clear, then went straight back to Frisco to pack up her possessions.”

Monica grew haughty. “The locals never call it Frisco.”

Kelsey followed Ethan into his glass-enclosed office with some relief. No jarring memories for her in here. Sheriff Norton had kept this space mostly to himself during his tenure. Judging by the huge jar of red and white jelly beans on the steel-gray desk, the number of chairs stashed in every corner and the cork board full of kids’ crayon pictures of him performing various duties, it appeared Ethan was a friendlier lawman.

He now gestured to a nearby chair, a metal one with a molded red plastic seat and back. After her journey by both plane and bus, it didn’t look particularly inviting. But Ethan was now riding the front edge of his desk facing the chair, looking remarkably pleased with the arrangement. Fearful that any resistance would put their renewed alliance at risk, she sat down.

Clasping her hands in her lap, Kelsey smiled, taking her first close look at him. He’d certainly matured in the best possible way, lean and rugged, strong and sexy, his narrow mustache and neatly clipped brown hair adding to his good looks.

There were times…Times when she thought about Ethan, their lengthy history, their intimate knowledge of one another. Being next-door neighbors from birth left very little room for pretense. For a short while during their fifteenth summer, she had even figured Ethan could be the guy for her.

How fortunate that they hadn’t gotten too carried away. It would have made his ultimate brush-off degrading and unbearable. Not that the rejection hadn’t been painful. Suddenly their whole friendship had been devalued, their bond of trust weakened. Kelsey had managed to move on and soon ended up with Brad. But she had never forgotten how important it was to her to save intimacy for a truly solid relationship. Even with marriage plans in the works—for the summer after their freshman studies at UW–Madison—she’d made it clear to Brad they wouldn’t be consummating their love ahead of the vows.

“A penny for your thoughts, Kel.”

At the sound of Ethan’s smooth warm baritone, she straightened on the crummy chair and gave a faint grin. Would he think her memories worth a penny? Had he even thought of her over the years? She wasn’t emotionally prepared to handle fresh rejection, so she raised an entirely different issue.

“I was thinking about your career choice. You originally intended to major in business administration, didn’t you?”

“That was my major. Then I settled back here after college not sure which direction to take. I juggled different jobs for a few years to make the rent, did some bookkeeping, sold insurance policies at Dad’s agency, and worked evenings as a deputy under Roger Norton. When Norton announced his retirement near reelection time last year, it occurred to me that I liked the law-enforcement job a lot more than the others. So I ran for sheriff and won.”

“Are you happy?”

“I find the job very satisfying. I enjoy the contact with people and they seem to respond to me well.”

A small silence followed, both of them looking around as if not sure what to say next.

“Jelly bean?” Ethan abruptly swung his jar of red and white ones under her nose.

Realizing she hadn’t had more than an English muffin and yogurt all day, she took a handful and popped some into her mouth. “These taste like the gourmet ones your mother used to buy.”

“They are.”

“So, how are your parents doing? Mom wrote me when they moved to Phoenix a few years ago.”

Ethan nodded. “They left mostly to escape the snowy Wisconsin winters. They love the desert climate, the rock-garden yards. I’m concerned about them, though. The highways there are always clogged and the drivers extremely aggressive. Nothing like this sleepy town.”

“But your dad spent years on the road selling insurance, so he’s probably comfortable with it.”

“So he says. Along with the reminder that they’re only in their fifties—like your mom.” Folding his arms across his chest he shook his head. “I’m probably overreacting but can’t seem to stop myself, and figure it’s just our turn to do the worrying. Some sort of karmic revenge.”

And worry Kelsey did about her mother. “Is Clare doing all right, Ethan? I mean, really all right?”

“What exactly are you asking me, Kel?”