A Family For The Sheriff. Elyssa Henry
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step into the role, but only until they could find someone to replace him.
Tommy Lightner had been deputy to both men, and everyone had expected the county commission to name him as the new sheriff. But they had done an about-face and hired someone with experience from outside the area.
“Mom, Mom!” Her son burst into the kitchen, the door slamming against the wall with his exuberance. “Guess what happened? My science project won second place.”
He held up the red ribbon proudly and grinned at her, the sight of several missing teeth in the front of his mouth tugging at her heartstrings.
Sam was the image of his father. Light brown hair, big blue eyes. Even the scattering of freckles on his nose and the tiny dimple in his cheek.
Thinking of Josh, of all the things he would miss, brought tears to her eyes as she knelt and hugged Sam to her.
“That’s wonderful,” she told him. “After all the hard work we put into it, I’m glad it paid off.”
“Don’t cry, Mom.” He touched her cheek with his dirty hand. “It was just a science project.”
“I know,” she answered, her voice husky despite her efforts to control it. “And I’m not really crying.”
But they both knew better. Sam was only eight, but he had seen his mother cry too many times since his father’s death to be misled.
He hugged her tightly. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Sam.” She hugged him again, then collected herself, stood up and took his heavy book bag and lunch box from him. “And I think we should go out and celebrate tonight. What do you think about Pizza Express?”
“Cool!” he said. “Can I get tokens to play the games, too?”
“I think so,” she agreed. “Put your stuff away and we’ll go. It’s supposed to rain all night again, and I’d like to be back before it gets late.”
He smirked. “Oh, Mom! You think late is seven or eight. People stay out until ten sometimes, you know.”
“Not people who have to go to school tomorrow,” she retorted, putting on her coat while he ran up the stairs to his bedroom.
Maria wiped her cheeks with an impatient hand. As often as she promised herself that she wouldn’t cry anymore, it still caught her by surprise from time to time.
It wasn’t like it could bring him back. Josh and their life together were gone. No wailing or sighing could change that fact. Yet she still cried for him sometimes in the night when the waste of his life choked up inside of her.
The rain had let up as Maria and Sam went out to start up the old truck. They didn’t go into the town of Rockford often. A good thing, she mused, since she didn’t know how many miles the truck had left to go on its life.
“We need a new truck,” Sam told her as the truck putt-putted down the driveway. “Ronnie’s father just got a new one.”
“I know,” she said, looking over her shoulder until they were clear of the drainage ditch on either side of the road.
“Uncle Tommy said he could get you a new one,” Sam informed her innocently.
Maria grimaced in the rearview mirror. Blue eyes reflected the information back to her that she couldn’t tell her son, that his uncle had made the same offer to her under different circumstances. And she hadn’t liked the strings that were attached.
“We get along fine with what we have,” she replied calmly, pushing a strand of reddish brown hair from her cheek.
“We could get along better with a new truck,” Sam responded, looking out the window at the passing landscape.
“You’re sounding more like your father every day.” She shook her head, then glanced at him. “Stubborn like him, too.”
He nodded solemnly. “Thanks. Everyone knows my dad was a great guy. He was a hero.”
“So he was,” she whispered through a tight throat. She looked up quickly when a solitary figure came into view as they were passing the general store on the way out of Gold Springs going toward Rockford.
“Hitchhiker,” Sam said, identifying the man.
“Not exactly,” Maria said, drawing in a deep breath as she made her decision before they reached him.
“What are you doing? Mom? Are we picking up a hitchhiker?”
“You watch too much television, Sam,” she countered, slowing down. “Scoot over here and be quiet a minute.”
Sam stared at her but he did as he was told, pushing away from the door and hugging her side.
“Need a lift somewhere?” she offered, her heart pounding in her throat as Joe opened the cab door.
He took in the addition to the truck’s passengers and ended up with his dark eyes locked on hers. “I think you know the answer to that.”
There was no laughter in that gaze, she noticed. She had the grace to look at her hands briefly. He was angry, and she didn’t blame him. The county commissioners had put them all in a bad place.
“Get in and I’ll take you into town,” she offered, knowing she was asking for trouble. It just seemed like the least she could do.
Joe climbed into the cab and pulled the door closed. Her light perfume curled around him invitingly. He felt her eyes on him as he fastened his seat belt and he fumbled with the clasp. When he looked up, her gaze slid away. There was no mistaking that the boy was hers. The big, soulful blue eyes fastened on him in a way the woman’s wouldn’t have, but they were identical.
A pang of regret shivered through him. A different tarn, another road. The boy could have been his son. He shrugged it off. Regret was something he had lived with for a long time.
“Billy wouldn’t bring in your car,” she guessed, starting down the road, turning on the windshield wipers as the rain began again.
“I would’ve had to use the phone to find out,” he replied tautly. “Since all the phone lines were down in the entire town and I don’t know where to find the repair shop...”
“The phones were working,” Sam volunteered quickly. “Mr. Maddox, the bus driver, stopped off and called home after we turned past the store.”
“I guess there was some mistake.” Maria grimaced at her son.
“I guess so.” Joe stared out the window. “A big mistake.”
Maria concentrated on her driving, trying not to think about what she was doing. They were nearly to Rockford before they passed a blur of red through the rain-coated windows.
“Is that your car?” Sam asked eagerly.
“That’s it.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Sam.” Maria tried to hush her son’s curiosity.
“It’s all right,” Joe told her, glancing at her taut face over her son’s head. “It’s not his fault.”
Maria kept her eyes stubbornly on the road as he explained that he had forgotten to pack another spare tire after the first one had blown out about a hundred miles away.
“That was pretty careless,” Sam remarked, eyeing the stranger warily.
“It was,” Joe replied steadily, then smiled at him. “Very careless.”
“What kind of car was that?” Sam asked. “I think I saw one like it in a magazine.”
“It’s a Porsche,” he told the boy. “It’ll do a hundred and sixty down a straightaway like this.”
“Wow! Can I have a ride sometime?” Sam looked at him in a new light.