She shook her head. “It’s fine. Love is a battlefield, right?”
I thought of all Mason and I had been through, the times he’d saved me, and I said, “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Holly, there’s a lost dog on Elm,” called the officer from the front desk.
She grinned. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around.” She didn’t say goodbye to Camden.
He let out an explosion of breath. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Yeah, because you didn’t talk.”
Camden followed right on my heels as I stepped into Sheriff Potts’ office. I was afraid he’d run me over if I stopped, so I went right up to the desk. The smell of Old Spice cologne hit me like a wall of smoke from a forest fire and sent me into a flashback of the night Mason pulled Parker from the burning car. Sheriff Potts had been there, holding me back as I screamed for my son. He’d only let me go when Mason cleared the car, Parker lying weak in his arms. My knees began to shake, and I sank into the chair behind me.
“Mrs. Miller.” Sheriff Potts leaned over the desk and shook my hand. His firm grip helped bring me back to the present moment.
“And Camden Owens, right?” He looked at Camden, who had his hands stuffed in his pockets.
Camden mumbled a reply.
“What can I help you with?” The sheriff looked back and forth between the two of us.
I waited for Camden to start. He stared at his shoes.
“Camden has something he’d like to tell you.” I would have kicked him if I could have done it without the sheriff seeing. And why did I suddenly feel like his mother? Man, Camden was such a child.
Camden took a deep breath. “I threw the first punch.”
Sheriff Potts leaned back in his seat and motioned for Camden to continue.
“I’d had too much to drink. I was upset because Mason—” He cut off and then started again. “It wasn’t his fault. I egged him on and then punched him.”
“So you don't think he’s a danger to the citizens of this town like you said in your complaint?”
My mouth fell open. That’s what they thought? All I could see was Mason’s sweet face as he taught Parker how to tuck a ball into his elbow to run.
“Only in the fact that he’s got a wicked uppercut.” Camden rubbed his jaw. His attempt at humor fell like a pancake in front of the sheriff—flat and flavorless. Camden dropped all pretense of kidding. “I don’t. He wouldn’t have come unglued if I hadn’t been a jerk.” His eyes cut to me.
I nodded, silently thanking him for being honest even though it wasn’t easy.
“Thank you for coming in—the video was less revealing than this conversation.”
Camden nodded.
“You can go.” Sheriff Potts stayed in his seat while Camden and I got to our feet.
“Sadie—will you wait a moment?”
I sat back down, holding onto the side of the chair.
“I’ll wait outside.” Camden went out and turned the corner. My guess was he’d wait in the parking lot.
“I got a request from Mason this morning for another week off.”
My heart sank into my shoes. Another week? Three days without him had almost killed me. How was I going to survive another seven? “Oh?”
He put his hands on the desk. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but your situation and relationship with Mason is…”
“Complicated?” I finished for him with a slight smile.
“Exactly.”
Exactly.
“He’s participating in a retreat for vets. It’s a good program. They have a lot of success helping guys work through the trauma they’ve stored away.”
Tears blurred my vision. Inside, I was jumping for joy, but on the outside, I’d fallen into a blubbery mess. I snagged a tissue from the box on the desk. “I’m sorry. I’m just so relieved.”
Sheriff Potts grinned.
“Not that I was scared of him or anything. He’d never do anything to hurt me. It’s just, he was hurting so much.”
“I know,” Potts said. “I’m happy for him. And I told him that when he gets back, his job will be here waiting. With what Camden said today, we should be able to lift his probation too.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” I drew in a ragged breath. “He’s lucky to work with a group that will support him.”
Potts stood. He had a twinkle in his eyes. “He’s more lucky to have a woman like you stand with him. Honestly, seeing you in here today gave me a lot of hope for his recovery.”
New tears formed, and I grabbed another tissue. “Thanks.” I hadn’t come in here seeking praise, but it was so good to know I’d done the right thing.
I made my way out of the building, barely keeping it together. When I hit the sunshine, I stopped to let it warm my cheeks and fill me up. I’d miss Mason terribly over the next week. But maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of us. I would hold onto that hope.
And I’d call his mom. We were going to a support meeting together this week because, until Mason told me otherwise, I was planning on us being together.
Chapter 21
Mason
I traced the stitching on the door with my finger. A set of nerves had taken over. Not the kind I felt when going into an unknown situation or when I was worried I’d revert back to training and embarrass myself.
No these were the nerves of a man who was about to face the woman he loved.
The woman he’d turned away and walked out on just over a week and a half ago.
“You okay?” asked Mom.
The camp for wounded warriors had had a graduation ceremony. I’d rolled my eyes when I heard about it during orientation, but we military men like our pomp and revel in exactness. It makes us feel at ease.
We were supposed to invite our loved ones. I’d thought about inviting Sadie and Parker, but I didn’t want her to see me there. I just wasn’t ready for that yet. I was trying to be, though. Facing my inabilities was something new—and sharing them with others was hard.
Instead, I’d invited Mom and Dad. They cheered when my name was read, and they hugged me so tight I didn’t have to doubt their love for me or their pride in me for finishing a week of intense therapy.
I was proud of me too.
I learned a lot about emotional freedom therapy to reduce anxiety. At first, I thought it was a bunch of hippy crap. But Heather didn’t let up. Every time I dug my heels in or acted too cool for school, she reminded me of Sadie, of why I was there, of what I wanted in life; and, I’d double down and go to work. Every. Time. Yesterday, I’d done my first solo session, walking myself through the process. I still needed a counselor, but I had the tools to face triggers and overcome my knee-jerk reactions.
I’d come to a better understanding of what Mom must have gone through those first few months I was home. Which is why I was riding back with her and letting Dad drive my truck.
“I’m good, Mom—and I have you to thank for it. You didn’t give up on me.”
Mom smiled softly. “There was no reason to. We love you, Mason. Always, no matter what.”
Tears stung, and I muscled them back. I’d done my share of crying this week. It didn’t feel unmanly when there was a whole group of us bawling like babies over the things we saw and did. But sitting here with my mom, I didn’t want to unleash it all. “Thanks for loving me like that. It’s a gift, and I don’t take it lightly.”