Riverbend Road

“It was only two little boys,” she answered. “Lindy-Grace Keegan’s pair. And I was only a few minutes ahead of the fire crew.”

“My sister, the hero! That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. Dad would have been too.”

“Thanks,” she answered, a little catch in her throat at the words.

“I mean it. Wait until Marsh hears.”

Their oldest brother, Marshall, was the sheriff of Lake Haven County. What would he think about her suspension? He would probably support it wholeheartedly, especially since Cade was his best friend.

“Can I bring you dinner tonight?” Kat asked. “I was thinking about trying out a new recipe for chicken divan.”

Her stomach gave a long, greasy roll at the offer. Kat was a fantastic, dedicated teacher, a good friend and a sweet, kindhearted person. She was also a terrible cook.

“I think I’m good. Thanks, though. I just need a little downtime, you know?”

“Are you sure? I’d love to bring you something. What about dessert? I’ve got more fresh rhubarb out back and was thinking about rhubarb-cherry tarts.”

Her mouth puckered. Kat was on a no-sugar kick these days and Wyn could only imagine rhubarb-cherry tarts without it. No thanks. She had an emergency Snickers bar hidden away inside her house that was calling her name right now.

“You’re so sweet, but really. It’s been a crazy day and I need to chill.”

It felt like another lifetime ago that she had been rescuing Aunt Jenny from the cow moose and her baby camping out in her driveway.

“I totally get that. After teaching twenty-five seven-year-olds all day, sometimes when I get home from school I just want to sink into a chair and not move until the next morning. I don’t know how I would survive without summers. Fine. But can we grab lunch or something this week? Don’t tell me you’re working double shifts! I won’t hear any excuses.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you that.” She didn’t add that she wasn’t working any shifts for several days. Kat would have no problem marching right down to the fire scene and giving Cade a piece of her mind. Her sister tended to lump Cade into the same category as Marshall and Elliot, just one more troublesome older brother.

She had never looked at him that way, but her sister did.

With the experience of long practice, she shied away from considering exactly how she looked at Cade.

“I could do lunch,” she said instead. “Let’s plan on it tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Oh, and you’re going to have to talk to Mom. She’s already called me three times, trying to see if I know anything about what happened to you.”

“Do I have to teach you again how to hit Ignore on your phone?”

“I wouldn’t have to hit Ignore, if you would just man up and talk to her,” Kat retorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” she answered.

She and her sister exchanged love yous and ended the call.

She did love Kat. They had always been close, the only two girls in a family of rambunctious, wild boys—just not quite as close as Wyn had been to her twin brother.

Her heart twisted with the familiar sharp ache she always felt when she thought of Wyatt, gone five years now.

He would have run into that burning barn too. She knew it in her bones. He wouldn’t have hesitated for a second and would have told his boss to screw off if the word suspension was even mentioned.

She would never be Wyatt—funny, brave, compassionate. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fill her twin’s shoes.

Yeah, Charlene was going to be freaking out.

She would call her mother the moment she was home, she told herself.

She turned the patrol car onto Riverbend Road, the long, winding road that ran parallel to the Hell’s Fury before it dead-ended.

As she neared her house, she spotted an unfamiliar minivan with Oregon plates parked in the driveway of a nearby house.

Oh, it would be lovely if someone moved in. The house had been cold and empty for too long, since before the river flooded the previous summer. She had always loved the little tan Craftsman house with the wide front porch and the cheery red shutters.

Moving to this area of town had been largely an accident. She had intended to rent something on the lake, similar to the house where she had grown up, but around the time she came back to help after her dad was injured and to take a job at the Haven Point PD, the renters who had been living in her grandmother’s house moved out. Her mother suggested she move in as a stopgap until she could find something else she liked, and Wyn had fallen in love with the whimsical charm of the stone cottage and this eclectic neighborhood along the river.

She loved that none of the houses were the same. Her house, constructed a century earlier of stucco and stones pulled from the river, seemed very different from the Craftsman just down the street, which in turn was nothing like Cade’s log house just across the road.

Somehow they all seemed to work together.

She spied a bike and a tricycle propped against the side of the Craftsman and a soccer ball resting in the grass. Despite the toys in the yard, the curtains were tightly drawn at the house and she couldn’t see any sign of activity, which she found a little weird.

The curtains at her own front window were wide-open, though, and a familiar face peered out, as if he had been perched exactly there in the deep window seat, waiting all day for her return—which was very likely.

When she turned into the driveway, that face—and the furry body it was attached to in the form of her yellow Labrador retriever—lit up with excitement.

When she unlocked the door, Young Pete waited for her just inside, his tail wagging with eagerness. “Hold,” she told him, then took two minutes to unhook her service revolver and her badge and lock them in the fingerprint safe in the hall closet before she rewarded Pete’s patience with a hug.

“There’s my favorite guy,” she said. “How was your day?”

Her dog nudged his head against hers and the quiet, steady affection made her throat burn even as she felt some of the stress of the day seep away.

What would have happened to Pete if she hadn’t made it out of that barn in time? She had to think Marshall or Katrina would have taken him in. He’d been their dad’s dog, after all, a link to the man John had been before his traumatic brain injury two years before he died.

“Need to go out? Do you?”

The dog gave one quick bark and she opened the back door for him and walked out onto the stone patio overlooking the river.

She needed to change out of her smoky uniform and shower but right now she wasn’t sure she could move from this spot.

After a moment, Young Pete finished his business then came back to sit beside her. The dog was ten years old and not young anymore but she still stuck the modifier on his name. Her dad had always called him that, in contrast to Old Pete, John’s previous dog.

Birds flitted through the branches of one of the big elms in her backyard, their song mingling with the breeze rustling the leaves and the river’s endless, soothing song.

She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the late afternoon sun.

She could have died today.

She wanted to think she’d had the situation fully in hand but Cade had it right. She had been foolish and arrogant to think she could take on that fire and win, especially without following protocol and keeping her radio on. It had been sheer dumb luck that she was here enjoying the beauty of a June afternoon.

The realization was sobering yet oddly invigorating, as if the heat and smoke had burned away something hard and confining.

She felt as if she had been encased in ice since her father’s death in January. Longer, really. Maybe some part of her had been suspended, frozen since the terrible succession of events five years ago that culminated in Wyatt’s death, when she had made the decision to go to the academy in his stead.

Each of her brothers loved law enforcement, just as their father and grandfather and great-grandfather before them. A Bailey had been keeping the peace here since the first settlers moved into the area the Native Americans considered a place of mystical strength and healing.

Her father and Wyatt had given their lives for the job. If she loved it as they had, she might have been willing to die in the line of duty. She didn’t. She never had.

Her pocket jangled suddenly and she knew by the ringtone it was her mother. Shoot. She’d meant to call Charlene the moment she got home. As the widow of a fallen police officer and the bereaved mother of another, her mother had every right to her worry and Wyn felt bad for adding to it.

“Mom. Hi. I’m sorry I missed your call. It’s been a...crazy afternoon.”

“Oh honey. I’ve been frantic! I called the ER, I called the station, I called your house. Finally I called Cade and he told me what happened and assured me you were all right.”

“I am. A little smoke inhalation but I was treated and released at the scene.”

“So it’s true. You really ran into a burning building to save a couple of juvenile delinquents.”

She thought of those poor, scared little boys, each trying to shoulder the blame for the accident in order to take the burden from the other.

“Something like that.”

“Oh honey.”

She heard a sniffle and could guess her mother was trying to hold back the tears she had probably been crying all afternoon. Charlene had lots of practice sitting at home and worrying. Guilt pinched at her again. She should have called the moment the EMTs took away the oxygen mask.

“I’m coming over to make sure you’re okay,” her mother insisted.

“It’s not necessary, really. I’m fine.”

“You say that, but I don’t believe you for a minute. I can hear it in your voice. Mother’s intuition is never wrong, honey. You’re upset and you need me there.”

She closed her eyes, loath to hurt her mother’s feelings by telling her the reality was exactly the opposite.

She loved her mother, she did. Charlene was sweet and earnest and she loved nothing more than to fuss over her family. Wynona mostly found it exhausting.

For two years, her mother had turned those energies to caring for her husband after his brain injury. Charlene visited him daily in the nursing home and had been a dedicated and selfless caregiver. Wyn admired her greatly for it. Since John’s death, though, her mother had tried to shift all those caregiving energies to her children—whether they needed it or not.

She couldn’t deal with Charlene today. She couldn’t.

“I’m actually on my way out,” she lied.

Charlene paused. When her mother spoke again, Wyn couldn’t miss the eagerness in her voice. “A date?”

Gah. She suspected her mother thought that the very day she would turn thirty—in four months, one week and two days—she would become a dried-up old maid.

“Afraid not. I’ve, um, got some things to do for McKenzie’s wedding,” she improvised quickly. “A bridesmaid thing.”

Yes. That’s right. She was nearly thirty years old and still lied to her mother.

“What time will you be home? I’ll bring dinner. I’m making lasagna.”

She did love her mother’s lasagna, flavored with fresh herbs and home-canned tomatoes and deliciousness. It was fantastic—but not quite worth everything that would come along with it.

“Thanks a million, Mom. That’s really sweet of you, but I’ll probably just grab something while I’m out.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Wyn could clearly hear her mother’s wounded feelings in the words and she swallowed a heavy sigh.

“Aunt Jenny wants to have us all over for dinner,” she offered as a salve. “I’ll try to coordinate with Marsh and Kat and see when the whole gang can make it. How would that work?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. We live so close together, it’s a shame we can’t find more time for family dinners. Though, of course, it won’t feel the same without Elliot. Don’t forget Marshall’s birthday next Sunday.”

“Maybe Jenny can join us for that.”

“I already asked her. She’ll be there.”

“Great. I can’t wait. I’ve got to go, Mom. I need to jump in the shower and wash some of this smoke out. Love you.”

She hung up before her mother could press her. After a quick shower and shampoo, she felt a million times better. She was throwing on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt when her phone rang again. To her relief, it wasn’t her mother’s customized ringtone but the one for her friend McKenzie.

“Hey, Kenz.”

“Wynona Jane Bailey!” McKenzie Shaw exclaimed. “If you didn’t want to be a bridesmaid for me, you could have just told me! You didn’t have to risk your life and nearly die to get out of it, a month before the wedding!”

She made a face as she combed through her hair. “I didn’t risk anything. Good grief. Does everyone in town know?”

“LG called me five minutes before Cade did.”

Lindy-Grace worked for McKenzie at her gift shop and they were good friends, so it only made sense she would let her know what happened.

“You will be at the top of Lindy-Grace’s Christmas list for the rest of your life,” McKenzie went on. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Lucky me. She gives the best presents.”

“And the top of ours as well. Ben and I have a very soft spot in our hearts for those boys. We would have been devastated if anything had happened to them. The whole town would have been devastated.”

“Everything ended well and now we can all move on.”

She was already tired of all the hullabaloo, especially for a decision that she was beginning to accept might not have been the smartest one she’d ever made.

“Not everything. I understand Chief Emmett suspended you from the department for a week without pay.”

Ugh. Small towns! A dog couldn’t pass gas without people talking about it.

“Does everybody know that too?”

“Cade called to tell me personally before the rumors started flying.”

Of course. McKenzie was the mayor of Haven Point and Cade technically reported to her. Apparently he had been very busy on the phone all afternoon, between her mother and her dear friend.

“I told him that didn’t sound like a good idea to me,” McKenzie said. “I can word my opposition more strongly, if you want.”

“Heavens no! I don’t need my friends fighting my battle for me.”

“Your friend happens to be his boss, in a roundabout way.”

“All the more reason to keep your mouth shut. Please, Kenz.”

“It doesn’t seem right to me. You saved the lives of two boys and shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“I’m looking at it as a nice vacation,” she lied. “I’ll finally have the chance to catch up with things around here. Plus, it will give me more time to help Devin with the final plans for your bridal shower.”

“You two are taking this bridal shower way too seriously. It’s beginning to scare me.”

“Don’t worry. This is just practice. You and I can do the same for Dev and her sexy rancher when they tie the knot.”

“Good point,” McKenzie said and Wynona could hear the smile in her voice. In the background she heard someone else talking to her friend and a moment later, McKenzie came back on the line. “I’ve got to go. Somebody is here to make a special floral order.”

“No problem. I have to go too. Young Pete needs to go out again.”

“I’m just going to say this again. It’s time you dropped the descriptor. Young Pete has prostate issues, like other dudes of a certain age,” McKenzie muttered.

She smiled and hung up after exchanging goodbyes, deeply grateful for her friends. Yes, she had been a bridesmaid five times in the last two years—it would be six after Devin’s wedding in a few more months. She was getting a little tired of it, but she would be lost without her friends, who had lifted her through more than they even knew.

“You might not be young anymore,” she told Pete, “but you’re still worth a dozen puppies.”

He wagged his tail, still standing by the door, patiently waiting for her to open it.

“You know what we both need?” she decided on impulse. “A little walk to clear our heads. Somewhere out of cell range, preferably.”

Pete seemed to be in full agreement, especially when she slipped on her walking shoes and grabbed the little pack she always kept stocked with a flashlight, water bottle and granola bar.

She decided to head for their favorite walk, along the Mount Solace trail that would take them across the Hell’s Fury River and up into the mountains above town. The bridge that led to the trailhead was just on the other side of Cade’s house so she didn’t bother with Pete’s leash, though she brought it along and stuffed it in the pack.

The dog stayed by her side as they walked down the street with the sound of the river accompanying them. When they reached the little Craftsman, she saw a slight woman with auburn hair unpacking groceries from the minivan, aided by a little boy of about four and a girl a few years older.

Pete, ever friendly, wandered over to say hello with his tail wagging a hundred beats a minute. The boy let out a shriek and hid between his mother and the minivan.

Shoot. She should have used the leash. She forgot there were new people in the neighborhood who didn’t adore him yet like everybody else did.

“Pete, get back here,” she called. After a reluctant moment, the dog wandered back to meet her as she approached the little family and she gripped his collar tightly.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “He loves to meet new people and can be a little too friendly sometimes. Hi. I’m Wynona Bailey. I live just down the street in the stone house with the green shutters. Welcome to Haven Point.”

The woman didn’t answer her smile. Her features were closed, unapproachable, her green eyes arctic.

“Isn’t there some sort of leash law in Haven Point?” she asked in a stiff voice.

So. Not the friendliest of new neighbors. Too bad. The kids were adorable, with auburn hair like their mother’s. The boy’s was curly and the girl wore hers in two long, thick braids.

“Technically, yes,” she answered. “I’ve got a leash here. But since we were just walking from our house to the trailhead just up ahead, I decided not to use it.”

“My son is afraid of dogs. Especially big, ill-behaved, dangerous dogs.”

She had to blink at that. No one in his right mind could possibly call a big, furry sweet-tempered guy like Young Pete dangerous or ill-behaved. He only wanted to say hello, for heaven’s sake.

“Sorry again. I’ll try to keep him out of your way. Come on, Petey.” She grabbed the leash out of the pocket of the backpack and clipped it on him. The little boy had emerged from behind his mother and gave her a tentative smile and she couldn’t help smiling back.

“It was great to meet you all,” she said, even though she hadn’t really met them. Meeting someone implied an exchange of names, which the woman had quite pointedly not shared.

She waved at the children. The boy waved back and it looked like his sister wanted to, but at the last minute she stuck her hand in her pocket. Their mother had turned away to unpack groceries.

Wyn gave a mental shrug and headed past Cade’s log home to the beginning of the trailhead up into the mountains. As soon as she and Pete crossed the bridge, she unclipped his leash with a defiant look back at the family, but they had disappeared into the house.

CHAPTER FOUR

IT DIDN’T TAKE long for the sheer beauty of her surroundings to siphon away the unpleasantness of the encounter with her new neighbors.

She had grown up hiking the foothills all around Haven Point but this was indisputably her favorite walk. The trail to Mount Solace was an easy but steady climb through stands of fragrant pines and firs and a thick forest of aspens with leaves that fluttered and danced on the slightest breeze. Amid the trees were several wide meadows bursting with wildflowers this time of year—columbine and kittentails, Indian paintbrush and delicate Queen Anne’s lace.

She loved the solitude and the serenity she always found in the mountains and as she walked, she felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. Pete enjoyed it, too, sniffing from tree trunk to flower patch to granite boulder.

An hour later, she felt much more centered and calm. Yes, she had a close call today. Yes, it probably had been a mistake to run into that barn and especially to turn off her comm while she did it, but she would never regret rescuing Lucas and Caleb, no matter what Cade said.

The sun was beginning to slide behind the mountains and her stomach reminded her she still needed to think about dinner.

“What do you think? Should we go home, Petey?”

The dog’s ears perked up and he inclined his head down the trail, just in case she had forgotten the way back.

She had to smile. “Thanks. Lead on.”

The dog obediently took point and they made their way back down. She loved the uphill trail for the burn it gave her quads and thighs and the sense of accomplishment, but the real reward came from the walk back down, when she caught occasional glimpses through the trees of the lake and the silvery twist of river and the town she had sworn to serve and protect.

She had hiked higher than she intended, she realized, as the shadows lengthened and the temperatures began to drop. She picked up her pace. Just before she hit the relatively flat part of the trail that paralleled the river, she heard voices ahead of her—unhappy voices, by the sound of it. A couple of upset children.

Remembering her new neighbors, she called Pete over to her and clipped his leash onto his collar.

“Sorry, dude. Better safe than sorry, right?”

Pete huffed out a breath but he was so easygoing that he never minded the leash much. They continued walking along the trail that curved with the river, following those voices.

Finally, they rounded a bend where she discovered the new occupant of the cute Craftsman sitting on the trail with her right leg stretched out in front of her and her children hovering close.

Wyn did a quick situation assessment and saw the woman’s ankle was swollen and beginning to bruise. She had a vague sense of déjà vu. Apparently this was her designated day to deal with injured limbs.

Her children knelt beside her in the dirt. The little boy’s face was streaked with tears and the girl was holding her mother’s hand, though she also looked pale and frightened.

The woman caught sight of Wyn and her distressed features closed up.

“Oh. It’s you.”

The woman tried to struggle to her feet as if she didn’t want to be caught in any kind of vulnerability and Wynona hurried forward.

“Please, don’t get up. That looks nasty!” Grateful for the impulse she’d had to put on Pete’s leash, she moved closer so she could have a better look at the injury. “I’m guessing the rock over there was the culprit. I stumbled over the same one on my way up.”

She pointed to one of those basketball-sized rocks that sometimes seemed to spring out of the ground overnight along these mountain trails, like mushrooms after a rain.

“We were watching a pretty bluebird on the trail and my mama didn’t see the rock. She says she sprained her ankle,” the girl offered.

“That was probably a mountain bluebird. They’re my very favorite bird.”

“I liked it too,” the girl said. “It sounded nice. I like your dog. She’s pretty.”

“She’s a he, actually. This is Young Pete and I’m Wynona Bailey. Wyn.”

“I remember. You said so before. My name is Chloe Montgomery. This is my brother, Will, and my mom, Andrea. I’m six years old and Will is four. My mom is thirty.”

Ah. Andrea Montgomery. That was the name of the woman who was now frowning at her daughter like she had just revealed state secrets.

Or maybe Wyn was being too suspicious. Maybe the woman was merely grimacing in pain.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” she asked Andrea Montgomery. “I’m a police officer here in Haven Point, trained as an EMT too.”