Page 32 of Traces Of You

“Like trying to frame your boyfriend for a crime that didn’t happen?”

She’d been standing against the counter. She turned her back and put the empty coffeepot under the water to fill. “Do you want coffee?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m sorry if that question was out of line.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry I asked it. I’m sorry if it hurt you, but we’ve got to be learning from the same dictionary and I don’t believe that is happening.”

“No one reads a dictionary in one night, Ford.”

Which was the polite way of her saying he had to hit the brakes.

“As long as we get there, I’ll accept it.”

“We will.” The coffee was brewing. “Can we talk about something else? Tell me about you? You’re the Sheriff of Warren County. Somehow I’m not surprised by that.”

“Why?”

“Because you always oozed confidence and respect amongst your peers. You didn’t have to speak. Your actions said it all. You befriended me and all the bullying ceased.”

It ceased because even after he’d walked around with Reenie by his side the first few days, some girls still started their crap and ran their mouths. He told them to knock it off. There wasn’t much more he had to say because most of those girls wanted to be part of the groups he was in.

“What can I say,” he said. “I’ve got the touch.”

She laughed. The first laugh he’d seen all day. “You’re so cocky. Just like your brother, only different. Did you go to college?”

“I did,” he said. “Community college for two years and then went away to SUNY Albany. Close enough to come home on the weekends and work when needed.”

“Clay went into the Navy?”

“He did. My father broke his back almost two years ago. We were all helping, but it wasn’t easy. Everyone has a crazy life and career. Clay decided to come home. He’s turned everything around.”

As the years went by, the family orchard business was harder to turn as good a profit in and some poor harvests made it worse.

He and his siblings were keeping things together working as best they could.

“The hard cider?” she asked.

“That was all him. My father reluctantly gave up apple picking in the community.”

“Oh,” she said. “No one picks apples here anymore?”

“Last fall was the first year it didn’t happen. The hard cider is bringing in more than those months of revenue did. Clay uses those apples and then ships in the rest. The bakery is doing better than it ever did too, thanks to Clay. We rehabbed the old barn, and we’ll host events and weddings there. You name it, it’s going to be done. The grand opening for it will be in a few weeks.”

“So no events have happened yet?” she asked.

“No. Clay will announce it soon. Gale said she’d help as best as she can. I’m not sure how Clay is going to do it all, but he’ll figure out a way.”

“I can help,” she said. “I enjoy doing those things.”

“That will be something you can talk to Clay about then.”

Her smiled dropped. He wouldn’t play peacemaker with the two of them. His brother wasn’t someone that changed his mind easily, but he was loyal and Clay would still protect Reenie.

There was a knock at the door. His hand went to his gun in the holster. His family was used to seeing it on him nonstop.

He moved the curtain aside and saw his brother Blaze’s SUV and opened the door.