Our family stayed for an hour, mostly talking to Griffin about the goings-on at the ranch and what was happening in town. After lunch, when my eyelids began to droop, Griffin kicked them out, but not before they helped make a dent in the food and the pie.
I yawned twice before Griff lifted me from the couch and carried me to bed. “I can walk.”
“I can carry you.”
“Fine.” I leaned against his shoulder, breathing in his spicy scent before he set me down beside the bed, pulling away the covers to tuck me in.
My head was on the pillow when he crouched down to kiss my hair. “I’m going to head out for a quick ride.”
“No, you’re not.” I caught his wrist before he could run away. “You’re going to come to bed too.”
“You’ll rest better if I’m not here.”
“Not true and you know it. Lie with me. Please.”
He blew out a frustrated breath but he didn’t deny me. Griff stood and kicked off his boots, then unbuckled his belt so it wouldn’t dig into my back. Then he eased onto the mattress, carefully sliding one arm beneath my pillow, inching close until his chest was flush with my spine.
But he didn’t hold me. He hadn’t held me since I’d come home from the hospital.
“Put your arm around me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m okay, Griff.”
“I don’t—”
“I’m okay. Please don’t pull away from me. I’ll drag you back if I have to, but it’ll hurt.”
He sighed and buried his face in my hair. Then slowly, his arm wound around my waist, resting against the spot where the bandages were gone but the stitches remained.
“See?” I twisted, the move causing a bit of a sting but I shoved it down. “Don’t carry this on your own. Don’t shut me out.”
His frame slumped against mine. “It rocked me.”
“Me too.”
“The idea of you going back to work, I just . . . I worry. I’ve never felt this kind of fear before. It’s making me unsteady.”
“Then we lean on each other. We worry about each other. But we can’t let it run our lives. I’m okay.”
“You’re okay,” he breathed, pulling me closer.
“Good.” I burrowed into his arms. “Now kiss me.”
He barely grazed the corner of my mouth.
“A real kiss.”
“Winn—”
“Kiss me, Griffin.”
He frowned, but obeyed, his lips lingering against mine.
“Stubborn,” I mumbled before dragging my tongue against his lower lip until finally, he kissed me like I wanted to be kissed, breaking away when we were both breathless. “I love you.”
He touched the freckles on my nose. “I love you.”
“After our nap, can we do something?”
“Depends. What do you want to do?”
I smiled. “You owe me a first date.”
Epilogue
Winslow
One year later . . .
“Hey, baby,” Griffin answered. “Having fun?”
“Don’t even start,” I muttered. “You know I hate traffic duty.”
He laughed. “You volunteered.”
“Because I’m trying to be a good boss.”
“The chief of police doesn’t need to man the speed traps.”
“We don’t have speed traps, Griffin.”
“Sure,” he deadpanned. “So you’re not parked behind the bush off the highway at the John Deere dealership.”
Not anymore. I glanced in my rearview at the bush and the dealership. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re getting ready to go for a ride around the ranch.”
“By ride, you’d better mean in a truck and not on Jupiter.”
Griff had made a comment this morning that Hudson was old enough to start riding with him on the horse. I’d thought he was joking. He’d better have been joking. My baby was not getting on a horse. Not yet.
“He’s got to learn sometime.”
“Griffin,” I warned. “He’s two months old.”
My husband chuckled. “Yes, we’re riding around in the truck.”
“Good. Have fun.”
“I’m going to swing by Mom and Dad’s. Say hi. See how Briggs is settling into the loft at the barn.”
“Give them all a hug for me. Maybe two for Briggs.”
Briggs had moved in last week. It had been Mateo’s idea to have Briggs closer to Harrison and Anne, but since Briggs didn’t want his cabin to sit empty, they’d traded homes. Mateo was now in the mountains while Briggs was closer to family.
In the past year, he’d started on some medication that seemed to help but every now and again he’d have an episode where his mind would falter and he’d lose time and place. The worst incident had happened a month ago, prompting this move. Briggs had gone hiking and gotten lost. When Griffin and Harrison had gone out to find him, he’d gotten combative with them both, not having a clue who either of them was.
When Harrison had told Briggs later what had happened, Briggs had made us all promise that if he acted like that again, they’d put him in a home. Mateo had suggested the barn loft as an alternative. We hoped that maybe if Briggs was living closer to the place where he’d grown up as a child, it would give him more of a foundation.
None of us knew what would happen, but it was worth a try.
“Will you take your mom’s pie plate when you go?” I asked.
“It’s already loaded.”
In the background, my son whimpered.
“How’s Hudson doing?”
“He’s ready for a nap. We’ll drive around. Let him conk out in his seat. Then head to Mom’s.”
“I’ve got”—I checked the clock on the cruiser’s dash—“four hours to go. Then I’ll be home.”
“We’ll be waiting. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I ended the call and continued driving toward Main.
Technically, I was still on maternity leave. I had three weeks left. But we’d been a bit short on staff for the past few months, ever since I’d fired Tom Smith—pregnancy had zapped my patience. So even though I was supposed to be at home, I’d been covering a few shifts to lighten the load at the station until we could get another officer hired.
The tourist traffic had lessened considerably this past week now that the school year had begun. It was nice to see a few empty spaces downtown, though soon there’d be hunters and then the Christmas crowd.
Quincy during the holidays was magical.
Though I was biased. Memories of childhood Christmases here with Pops and my parents were some of my fondest. And this past year had been unforgettable.
Griffin and I had gotten married three days before Christmas. The ceremony had been a small, intimate affair at The Eloise Inn. He’d dazzled in a black suit. I’d worn my mother’s wedding dress. After Pops had walked me down the aisle and Griffin and I had exchanged vows, we’d opened the hotel’s doors for a reception that had strained the building’s seams.