Page 13 of Legends: Easton (Legends of Fire Creek #3)
Bailee read the text twice, the corners of her mouth turning down in a frown.
No hits in facial rec. Checked with gang unit. Not linked to BDs. Identity unknown without further intel.
She tossed her phone down on the mattress and blew out a frustrated breath. Expecting to feel relieved that the stranger at the grocery store wasn’t connected to the case against the Blood Disciples, she instead felt irritated.
She’d overreacted to a random encounter with a stranger.
Just because it was unusual for people to randomly land in a town as small as Fire Creek, that didn’t mean it never happened.
Her instincts were hyper aware and making her suspicious of coincidences, but it seemed that the run-in was exactly that.
She ran her hands through her hair, the strands falling forward to slap her cheeks when she released them.
Her mind recalled a conversation she had with her police chief following Jimmy’s arrest. Struggling with her partner’s betrayal and grieving all her job had cost her, Bailee had done the one thing she swore she’d never do since becoming a cop — letting the men she worked with see her cry.
But she’d broken down in Chief Matthew Tucker’s office, the sobs wracking her body over the loss of Shantayle, over the unfairness of how the other cops treated her, over the way Jimmy had used her, and over losing a bit of herself when she was undercover.
“I’m an old school cop, so you can probably guess that I’m not good at these situations,” Chief Tucker had said as he sat across from her, holding out a box of tissues for her. “But I think you should talk to someone who is. You’ve been dealt a shitty hand, Maxwell. It’s a lot to take on your own.”
“Are you saying I need a shrink?” Her tone had been sharp and borderline disrespectful, but the chief had given her a pass on any appearance of insubordination.
“Yeah, I am. I’ve talked to one before, and I haven’t dealt with near as much shit as you are. There’s no shame in it, regardless of what the jackasses in the bullpen say. Just think about it.”
Bailee had considered it, but she’d dismissed the idea. She didn’t think a shrink could tell her anything she didn’t already know, and an hour of therapy couldn’t do anything for her peace of mind that a visit with Gran couldn’t.
Now she was wondering if maybe Chief was right. Maybe she wasn’t dealing with everything as well as she thought, not if she was seeing suspects in every stranger’s face.
A coppery taste on her tongue pulled her from her musings. She had worried her bottom lip between her teeth until she’d pricked the tender flesh, drawing blood. Reaching for a tissue, she blotted the spot until it stopped bleeding.
She heard Gran’s voice through the closed door, and though she couldn’t decipher what Darby Anne said, she figured she was being alerted that it was dinnertime. Taking a moment to compose herself, she headed toward the kitchen, determined not to let her paranoia taint her time with Gran.
“Everything smells great, Gr…”
Her words trailed off as she drew up short just inside the kitchen doorway. Gran was slicing a pork tenderloin while Easton set three place settings on the dining table. His dark hair was pushed back from his forehead, making his arched brows and smoldering eyes more prominent.
He glanced up with a grin as she entered, smile lines appearing on either side of his delectable mouth. His broad shoulders stretched the linen material of his shirt, but it fell loose to the waistband of his jeans.
“Bailee Anne, you’re just in time. Will you start setting the food on the table? The cornbread is there on the counter, and the green beans need to be added to that bowl by the stove.”
“Of course.” Bailee moved closer to Gran, leaning in to whisper in the older woman’s ear. “I didn’t realize we were having company.”
“I knew you wouldn’t mind. I saw Easton outside earlier, and he told me he had a rare night off. So I invited him to join us.”
“Right.” Bailee drawled the word out as she picked up the platter of cornbread, cut into manageable squares and smothered in melted butter. Her stomach rumbled a bit as the familiar aroma tantalized her nostrils.
“Good to see you, Bailee.” Easton’s tone was warm as his words washed over her, making her heart flutter in response.
“Glad you could join us.” She meant what she said even if she did wish she’d had advanced warning he’d be here. Dressed in denim shorts and a simple tank, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, she wasn’t looking her best while he looked good enough to eat.
His eyes seem to linger a second longer than necessary. Then he went back to setting the table. She scrambled over to help Gran bring over the rest of the meal, which included a glaze for the tenderloin, slices of garden-fresh tomatoes, and roasted potatoes.
The food could have fed several families on their block, but even when it was just Bailee and Gran, Darby Anne pulled out all the stops with meals, preparing way too much.
Whatever wasn’t eaten was shared with some of the widows and widowers in the neighborhood.
Nothing went to waste, and Gran enjoyed cooking too much to adjust the quantities.
Gran prayed a blessing over the meal, and they filled their plates. They ate several bites in silence, and Bailee was pleasantly surprised that the quiet wasn’t awkward or unpleasant. It reminded her of meals shared with her parents and brother or with Gran and Pops when she was a kid.
“Did you have a nice visit today with Jim?” Darby Anne fixed her gaze on Easton.
Bailee wondered several things at one time. Just who was Jim? How long had Easton been here that Darby Anne already knew how he’d spent his day? And why was she feeling jealous of Gran for knowing something about Easton that she didn’t?
“Yes, ma’am, as much as I can with someone like him.” Easton smirked, and Darby Anne chuckled.
“He is a bit much to take, isn’t he? He won’t admit it, but he looks forward to your visits.”
Easton nodded. “I’m used to his moods. Gish’s default setting is grumpiness, and Jim is not much different. It’s fun to kill him with kindness when he’s trying his best to push my buttons.”
Bailee’s confusion must have shown on her face because Easton and Darby Anne shared a knowing smile before Easton explained.
“Jim Murphy lives in the big brick house at the end of the street. No one knows how old he actually is, but he has to be in his eighties or nineties. His wife died when she was in her forties, and he never remarried. He doesn’t get around very well, but his mind is sharp.
He refuses to downsize or move to a retirement community even if he’s not physically able to handle the upkeep. ”
“He’s also too stubborn to ask for help or spend a dime to have someone do the work for him,” Darby Anne interjected.
“So when I started mowing his neighbor’s yard, I included his too without asking.
Then his neighbor sold the house to a family of four, but I kept on mowing his lawn.
Then I repaired a loose board on his front steps.
Now, he just complains about something that needs doing, and I take care of it for him.
He threatens to have me arrested for trespassing, and I threaten to have Darby Anne box his ears.
It’s the very definition of a love-hate relationship. ”
He and Darby Anne chuckled, and Bailee smiled at the image his story evoked.
“And Gish is your guardian?” Bailee remembered the reference from earlier conversations when Easton helped her with Gran’s list of projects.
“He prefers to be called our mentor.”
Darby Anne shook her head. “Never mind everyone in town considers him like a father to you boys. When he first came to town, he kept to himself a lot. No one really knew what to make of him at first, but he did a good thing, offering you boys a place to live where you could feel safe. And you boys grew up to be fine young men. And just look at Jackson. He’s turned into a wonderful husband and father.
I hope you boys know how much everyone in town is proud of you. ”
Bailee marveled at the blush creeping up Easton’s neck and staining his cheeks.
Darby Anne noticed too. She patted his arm and deftly changed the subject to less personal topics.
The dinner conversation flowed effortlessly, and Bailee realized just how much she enjoyed having Easton join them.
His sense of humor kept her laughing, and he showed great respect for Gran.
Bailee could see why he was a favorite among the older residents in the neighborhood.
When the meal ended, they all joined in the cleanup until Roxy stood impatiently by the door, watching Bailee with soulful eyes.
“I’ll be right back. I need to let Roxy do her business and run off some energy, so she’ll settle down for the evening.”
Bailee didn’t wait for a reply before slipping out of the back door. Fortunately, the humidity wasn’t as palpable, making the temperature bearable. A slight breeze stirred her hair until it brushed against her face.
She watched Roxy sniff various spots in the backyard until she found just the right one to do her business. When she was finished, she brought a stick to drop at Bailee’s feet. Bailee tossed it and waited for her dog to speed after the piece of wood hurtling through the air.
“Nice throw.”
Bailee started and whirled around to see Easton standing behind her. How had he stepped outside without her knowing?
“Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice since Roxy came in my life. Fetch is her favorite game.”
“She’s a good dog. She’s lucky you decided to take her in.”
Bailee turned to see Roxy storming their way. The beast stopped abruptly in front of her, dropping the drool-covered stick. She smiled.
“I think I may be the lucky one.”
Before she could reach for the stick, Easton scooped it up and tossed it to the edge of the yard. Roxy happily tore after it, her tail waving high in the air.
“Yeah. You’re right. I see that now.”