Her Colton Lawman Page 7

  “I hope most everyone in town will stop in at one point or another throughout the day. I’ve planned two serving times, one around eleven and the other one around three, but food will be available virtually all day long. We need this, Curtis, a day to come together and remember what this town is really all about.”

  Curtis frowned. “I don’t know, Nina. If I were you, I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high. With this virus, folks are scared to gather in crowds. Heck, these days neighbors aren’t even hardly talking to each other.”

  “You wait and see,” Nina replied optimistically. “We’re going to have a full house, and it will be a day of laughter and joy and blessings that we all desperately need, especially now.”

  “Now there’s a man I don’t envy,” Curtis said as he looked toward the front door.

  Nina followed his gaze and saw that Flint had entered the diner. He pulled off his hat and plopped it on Billy’s head, who giggled and smiled up at the tall lawman.

  He approached Nina and Curtis, and the smile he offered them was one of weariness that instantly let Nina know the day had yielded no answers as to the whereabouts of Hank Bittard.

  “Nina...Curtis,” he greeted them.

  “Take a load off, Flint. Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” Curtis said.

  “Please, sit for a minute,” Nina said. “I’ve got Charley putting together some to-go boxes for dinner, and while we wait for those, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

  He eased down on the stool next to Curtis, and Nina turned to grab a mug and the coffeepot. She poured his coffee, and he gave her a grateful smile that shot straight to her heart.

  Drat the man anyway. She returned the coffee carafe to the burner and then excused herself and headed for the kitchen to check on the food she planned to take with her.

  That tired, grateful smile he’d cast her had touched her more than she wanted to admit. It had made her feel bad about how distant, how disengaged she’d been with him since living beneath his roof.

  He was working his butt off every day to keep this town safe under extraordinary circumstances, and she was allowing a distant, traumatic past to make her treat him differently than she would anyone else, even an unknown customer who might meander into her diner for a meal.

  He had taken her into his home, drove her to and from work each day. He was going out of his way to assure her safety. He deserved better than what she’d given to him so far.

  With a large white take-out bag in hand, she returned to the dining room where Curtis and Flint were in a conversation about the condition of Officer Mike Barnes, who had been attacked and left for dead when Bittard had escaped. Although Mike was still at the clinic for his injuries, thankfully he was getting better and stronger with each day that passed.

  “Ready?” Nina asked Flint.

  He drained his coffee mug and stood. “Ready,” he replied.

  With goodbyes said to Curtis and a final check with the waitresses, she and Flint headed toward the front door. As he walked by Billy, he plucked his cowboy hat off the boy’s head and put it back on his own.

  Billy grinned at them both. “Cookie dough cupcakes and a cowboy hat, that for sure makes a great day,” he said.

  Nina and Flint laughed, but Nina’s laughter stopped the moment they stepped out the door and Flint’s gun filled his hand, and his other arm pulled her tight against him, using himself as a shield against any impending danger.

  As always, the close contact half stole her breath away. The worst part of all was that it felt right to be so intimate against his body with his familiar cologne surrounding her.

  When they reached the passenger door she slid inside and set the food bag on the floorboard between her feet. She watched him walk around to the driver’s-side door.

  He wore the black uniform of his station well, and the sun glinted off his badge and filled her with myriad emotions. His gaze swept the general area with narrowed eyes as if looking for trouble, but finding none.

  She had learned almost before she could walk that men in uniforms couldn’t be trusted. It had been a lesson that had been repeated over and over again throughout her childhood.

  For the first time since she’d met Flint a year ago, she found herself wondering about the man beneath the uniform. Was he different from those she’d known in her past, or did he have a dark side that he hid from others?

  Chapter 5

  It was after six when Flint and Nina had changed into casual clothes and met in the kitchen for dinner. It had been another long, fruitless day, and Flint fought against a weary defeat that he knew if he succumbed to, would do nobody any good.

  He sat at the table as Nina prepared the food she’d brought home with her. It didn’t take her long to warm up the homemade chicken pot pie, and corn muffins and to make them each a side salad.

  She was quiet as she worked, and he didn’t expect anything different. It was obvious he was involved in a one-way admiration society, and for the moment he was content just to watch her work as her evocative scent mingled with the food smells.

  She moved with a graceful efficiency, each movement with purpose as the early evening sun danced in the strands of her hair. She appeared at peace as she worked, and some of that peace filled the kitchen and seeped into Flint’s tired bones.

  Reluctantly, he closed the blinds, halting the drift of sunshine inside. There was no way he’d allow her to sit at the table with the blinds open, allowing somebody outside to have a perfect target to attack.

  Finally, the food was on the table, and they sat across from each other and filled their plates. “I was thinking about you today,” she said, her words surprising him.

  “Thinking about what?”

  “I don’t know your brother very well. I know Gemma a little better, but I really don’t know anything about you. I told you last night about my wandering around the state to finally find my life here in Dead River. Tonight I think it’s your turn to tell me all about you.”

  He looked at her blankly, stunned that she wanted to know anything about him given how distant she’d been for the past two nights.

  She smiled, that open gesture he’d seen her offer so many people in her diner. “Don’t look so shocked,” she said, and the smile slowly fell from her face. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology for my mood the past couple of nights.”

  “I just figured I was the only person in the whole town of Dead River that you didn’t like very much,” he replied truthfully.

  “I don’t know you well enough to know if I like you or not,” she replied. “So, tell me about Flint Colton. I already know that Dottie raised you, your brother and Gemma.”

  He nodded. “My mom died when we were all young, and it wasn’t long before Dad took off for parts unknown, so Gram Dottie stepped in. She had her hands full with the three of us, but we adored her...still do.”

  “Then you had a happy childhood?”

  He paused with a corn muffin halfway to his mouth and frowned thoughtfully. “It was happy until I hit those terrible teenage years and then Rafe Granger and I became good friends.”

  “Dr. Granger from the clinic?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Rafe lived in the trailer park on the wrong side of the tracks, and he couldn’t wait to get out of town. Although I lived with Gram Dottie, like Rafe, I couldn’t wait to leave Dead River behind.” He smiled ruefully. “Like most self-absorbed teenagers, I thought I was better than this small town. I wanted big-city lights and excitement. I wanted something bigger than Dead River.”

  “How old were you when you left Dead River?”

  “The day after my eighteenth birthday, I headed to Cheyenne. I worked on a ranch just outside of the city until I turned twenty-one, and then I applied to the Cheyenne Police Department. They took me on and for the next ten years the job w
as my life. I loved it, and I climbed through the ranks fairly quickly.”

  “Then what brought you back here?” she asked and took a bite of the chicken pot pie.

  Between bites, Flint explained to her about Theo, who had been a champion bronc rider and had been severely injured after being thrown. It was later discovered that one of his competitors had injected the horse Theo had ridden with a serum that made it go crazy. The man, Hal Diggins, had been arrested, and Flint had remained in Dead River to help out with his brother, who’d had major injuries to overcome.

  “When I arrived in town, the police department was a mess,” he said.

  She nodded. “Chief Drucker was dirty, and he and half his officers were fired when Harry Peters came in to clean things up.”

  “And within three months I found myself moving from officer to chief of police because of my long history in Cheyenne,” Flint said. “Just in time for murder, mayhem and a quarantine to take place,” he added drily.

  “Things could be worse,” she said. “You could also have crop circles in the fields to investigate.”

  Her impish grin coupled with her words forced a burst of laughter from him. God, it felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had really laughed about anything. His sister often told him he didn’t laugh enough, that he was far too serious too much of the time.

  “The stress of the virus is definitely making some people in town act like aliens,” he replied and told her about the call to the Brown house that morning. “I’ve never seen a man so scared just because his wife choked on some toast. Thank goodness Edith checked out fine and is back home and all is well.”

  “I’ve had a couple of waitresses who have stopped coming into work. They’re scared about catching the virus from the customers or somebody else working for me. Thank goodness I have some very loyal employees who are picking up the slack,” she replied.

  “On another topic, we interviewed a friend of Bittard’s today, a guy named Ralph Dane. He’s a little pip-squeak who apparently enjoyed being Bittard’s sidekick. He swore he’s had no contact or anything to do with Bittard since his escape, but I’m not quite sure I believed him.”

  “So, do you have a plan?” Nina got up from the table and removed their now-empty plates.

  “I don’t have enough evidence to get a phone tap or any phone records, but Ralph lives at home with his parents, who seemed like stand-up folks, and today they gave us permission to go inside the house and look around. There was no sign that Bittard was hiding out there. I have assigned two of my men to shadow Ralph for the next few days and see if maybe he meets up with Hank somewhere.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. Hopefully, he’ll lead you right to Bittard. I’ve got apple dumplings for dessert. Are you interested?”

  “Definitely,” he replied. “But with the condition that we stop all discussion of Bittard and the virus and anything else negative and just enjoy some pleasant talk and an apple dumpling.”

  “That’s a deal,” she replied. She zapped the dumplings in the microwave just long enough to warm them and then refreshed their coffee and returned to the table.

  For the next hour they exchanged tales, her sharing with him some of the experiences she’d had while working as a waitress in a variety of small towns, and him regaling her with stories of growing up with his brother and sister and his grandmother.

  The weariness that had weighed so heavily on Flint slowly fell away as he enjoyed Nina’s expressive story-telling, her sense of humor and her obvious caring nature.

  She breathed new life into the house, into him and only made his attraction to her grow deeper. He kept reminding himself that she was only being herself, showing him a side of her that was natural and real but had nothing to do with her having any warm feelings specifically toward him. She was obviously making the best of a bad situation.

  There were several times during the evening that he thought they were actually flirting and connecting on a deeper level.

  But he reminded himself they were in this together under circumstances beyond their control. She hadn’t chosen to be here with him, but he definitely enjoyed her company when her defenses appeared to be down, and she was just being the woman everyone in town knew and adored.

  By the time they had finished their dumpling and their conversation it was almost eight. She cleaned up the dishes and then told him she was going to take a shower and turn in early.

  Her words instantly evoked a vision of her naked in the shower. As she disappeared down the hallway he cursed himself for having sex on the mind when he should be focused solely on the recapture of a murderer.

  But it had been nice to find a respite from everything he had facing him as chief of police. It had been good, if only for a little while, to be just Flint Colton enjoying a conversation with a beautiful woman.

  Once Nina was in the bathroom and the shower water was running, Flint went to his bedroom and grabbed a pair of boxers to sleep in for the night. He’d shower in the morning when he felt it would be safer to take a few minutes closed off in the bathroom.

  Now that Nina had called it a night, the weariness that had plagued him earlier returned tenfold. He thought of the files he’d brought home with him, intending to study them yet again, but he ultimately dismissed the idea.

  What he needed more than anything was an early night and a good sleep to be refreshed and ready for the following day. Besides, he didn’t want to screw up his positive feelings after spending time with Nina by immersing himself back into murder and mayhem.

  By nine-thirty the house was quiet. Nina had left the bathroom and gone into the bedroom, and he assumed she was already asleep. With only the night-light in the hallway to guide him, he shucked his jeans and T-shirt and changed into his boxers.

  With the house locked up and the lights off, he sat on the edge of the sofa and allowed his thoughts to run wild. In a small, quarantined town, where would a killer hide? Certainly there were lots of wooded areas and some abandoned houses, barns and sheds in those areas, but Flint and his men had checked them out in the first days of Hank’s escape.

  With the reports of burglaries in the area, Flint’s gut instinct was that Hank was there, somewhere in the woods, surviving on primal instincts and whatever he could steal or salvage from the people who lived in the area.

  It was very possible that Jimmy was there, too, not only dodging the police but any contact with Hank, as well. There was no way that Flint believed either of them had managed to escape the quarantine. The borders of the town were too heavily guarded for one of them to slip through.

  He wasn’t even sure if Bittard somehow got the chance to get out of town, that he’d leave before neutralizing the witness who had seen him kill Jolene Tate.

  He finally stretched out and closed his eyes. Talking about his time in Cheyenne with Nina had brought back both good and bad memories. He’d been so eager to be a cop, and he’d been a good one, rising through the ranks quickly, driven by ambition and resolve. He wanted to make a difference in the fight between good and evil, but ultimately he’d lost the battle and had come home with his tail tucked between his legs.

  In the past couple of months he’d come to doubt his profession of choice, wondering if he’d be better off...happier buying a little piece of land and doing some ranching. No crimes to solve, no tragedies to deal with; a little less stress definitely sounded good right now.

  With the events of the past week so fresh in his mind, self-doubts grew strong in the darkness of night. Maybe he’d never really had what it took to be a police officer, let alone the chief of an entire department.

  He knew that now wasn’t the time to make any changes. The town had enough problems already, but once Bittard was caught, once the cure to the virus had been found and the quarantine was lifted, maybe it was time for him to think of a new path in life.

>   He awoke with his gun in his hand and his heart banging frantically in his chest. It took him a moment to orient that he’d fallen asleep and something had awakened him.

  What? What had pulled him from his sleep and made him automatically reach for his gun? Tense and completely alert, he remained perfectly still, his hearing tuned to anything in the house that didn’t belong.

  He heard the faint hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen, a tick-tick as heated air expanded the vents to warm the house, all normal noises. Nothing alarming...nothing odd.

  He sat up and swung his feet to the floor, his gun still clutched tightly in his hand. His heartbeat had slowed to an almost imperceptible rhythm as he stood. Something had awakened him, and he had to make sure it wasn’t danger in the house.

  His internal clock told him it was about three in the morning, far too early for Nina to be up and around. He crept slowly down the hallway to her bedroom first as she was his number-one priority.

  By the faint night-light in the hallway he could see her beneath the covers, her face turned toward the door. He watched until he saw the slow rise and fall of her chest. He breathed a silent sigh of relief and moved on down the hallway.

  Room by room he checked for open windows, anything amiss, any danger that might lurk nearby, but he found nothing. He finally paused at Nina’s doorway again, feeling slightly guilty as he stared at her face.

  Even in sleep she was beautiful, and her lips were curved into a faint smile as if her dreams were pleasant ones. It was then that he remembered his dream, the one that had abruptly pulled him from his sleep and had him automatically reaching for his gun.

  He’d dreamed that Hank had Nina. In the nightmare the two of them had stood beneath a streetlamp and Hank had a rope wrapped around Nina’s neck. Flint had been down the block and no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t reach them. It was as if his feet were mired in quicksand.

  He could see the rope slowly tightening and the blood filling Nina’s face as she tried to gasp for breath, and he knew that if he didn’t do something then, Nina was going to die. But he’d been helpless, unable to stop the horror from happening.