The Time in Between Read online

  Caylen shot her a scowl.

  I stayed on target.

  “Mom loved me,” I told him softly.

  He looked back to me. “She birthed you, she had no choice.”

  “Dad—” I kept trying.

  He pushed hard on the door. “We’re not doing this.”

  I wasn’t going to let another important man in my life shut me out until I’d given it my all, so I put my weight in my hand.

  “They would want us to try—”

  “Get your hand off my door.”

  “Caylen, okay, just five minutes,” I haggled.

  “Get your hand off my door, Cady, or I swear to God, I’m phoning the police.”

  “But you’re my brother and I’m your sister.”

  “You can think that, but just so you know, you’re nothing to me. I haven’t thought of you in years. I wish I didn’t have to think of you now. And when I close this door, I won’t think of you again, I hope, until the day I die.”

  Hearing that, I took my hand off the door. Caylen wasn’t ready for it so I caught the flash of surprise in his face before it slammed hard into its frame.

  Though even if he was ready for it, he’d probably have done the same.

  “Oh my God, he isn’t a dick, he’s a total—” Kath started to fume.

  I turned to her and she took one look at my face and clamped her mouth shut.

  She then took my arm and guided me back to the Jag. She led me to the passenger seat. She took my keys. She got into the driver’s side and adjusted the seat (Kath was tall—tall, blonde, brown-eyed, sporty and willowy—a California girl raised in the Mile High City), reversed out of Caylen’s drive and set us on the road to home.

  I stared out the side window.

  After some time, she said softly, “Your mom did that.”

  I drew breath in through my nose and said nothing.

  “You were the black sheep. Didn’t fit. Instead of celebrating your differences and opening their eyes to see how kind and caring and generous you are, or any of the many wonderful things that make you, they only saw the part about you being different. Your dad would have gotten there. But your mom was controlling and she wanted to carve you into the model that fit in with the little world she’d decided you were all going to live in, and her behavior toward you gave your brother permission to be that way, treat you that way, feel superior the way he feels. He grew up with that. He doesn’t know anything else.”

  I didn’t have a reply so I didn’t say anything.

  “Though, now I’m thinking it also has a lot to do with him just being born mostly an asshole,” she muttered.

  I had no reply to that either.

  “You want him to be your father,” she continued gently. “You want a chance to relive the time before you lost your dad so you have another shot of winning at least your father back. But he’s not your father, Cady. He’s not your mother. He’s that guy and that was going to happen no matter if you got down on your knees and begged him to give you a chance.”

  I looked forward. “You’re probably right and I love you, but I have to say I’m not sure you helped very much.”

  “I’m Patrick Moreland’s daughter-in-law and I have been for twenty-five years, and in that honored position and as your friend it’s my job not to let anyone shit on you, Cady. You have all the patience in the world for that kind of thing because your parents and brother taught you that. Patrick, Pat, Mike, Pam, Daly, Shannon, me . . . not so much.”

  She was right.

  We both fell silent.

  She broke it, asking hesitantly, “Did you have hope it would go another way?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  I felt her relief hit the car that she hadn’t messed things up.

  I looked out the side window and murmured, “But it would have been a lovely surprise.”

  She reached out and squeezed my knee.

  I sighed.

  She drove.

  I rode.

  I encouraged her to stop in the town with the cute shops.

  We had dinner there too.

  So we got back to the studio late.

  It was the next morning and I had no idea how he got in. The gate was closed. The workers were careful to do that.

  But he got in.

  And he got in while I was sitting on my veranda with my mug of coffee. I had on a pair of heather-gray jersey men’s-style pajamas with a bright-pink drawstring on the bottoms. And in such an outfit, and with Kath still asleep enjoying a holiday with me in Maine, away from mom and wife duties and determined not to get too far out of her time zone sleep-wise, I wasn’t ready and I had no backup.

  Truth be told, I’d probably never be ready.

  And what I wasn’t ready for was Sheriff Coert Yeager strolling around the side of my studio in his sheriff shirt and his impeccable jeans, wearing smoky-lensed aviator sunglasses looking tall and beautiful and in command.

  Even through his glasses I could feel his eyes on me as he walked across the front of the studio, stopped at the bottom of the steps and put his hands to his narrow hips.

  I sat frozen, one leg curled under me, one leg bent with my bare foot in the seat, my coffee cup held aloft in both hands in front of me, my eyes glued to him.

  His deep voice growled across the ten feet between us.

  “Got a call from the boys up in Waldo County.”

  “I’m sorry?” I whispered, wondering if he could even hear it.

  I didn’t know if he did or not with what he said next.

  “They reported that Caylen Webster contacted them to share two foul-mouthed women came to his door and harassed him, refused to leave when asked repeatedly, and barred the door when he tried to close it against them.”

  My God.

  Did Caylen hate me that much?

  “I’m gonna have to ask you not to return to your brother’s, Cady,” Coert stated. “And whatever,” he jerked his chin up toward the house, “friend you got in there with you, I’m gonna have to ask you to make sure she does the same.”

  “I was attempting—”

  “Don’t need an explanation.”

  He didn’t need one seventeen years ago either.

  “Of course you don’t,” I murmured.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing, Sheriff,” I said louder. “Rest assured, we won’t be returning to Caylen’s.”

  He tipped his chin this time like a man would do if he was touching his hand to the brim of a hat then he said outrageously, “I’m gonna have to ask you not to make trouble in town either.”

  I stared at him with my lips parted.

  I parted them farther to state, “I don’t have a brother who hates me so much he reports a visit from his sister who was attempting to reconcile with him to the police living in Magdalene, so you can rest even further assured that there’ll be no problems from me in town. Unless the folks at the Lobster Market take issue with people eating too much seafood, that is.”

  He looked to his side, off into the distance, and I wished it was not with the complete and utter fascination it actually was that I watched a muscle jerk up his jaw into his cheek.

  He’d always had such a beautiful jaw, strong and square.

  His cheek was far from unattractive too.

  When he didn’t move, I called, “Are there any other warnings you wish to issue, Sheriff?”

  His gaze cut back to me. “You know my name, Cady.”

  “Are you here as Coert?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then let’s keep this official visit official, shall we?”

  “Did the society ladies teach you how to talk proper, or was it your sugar daddy?” he retorted.

  I had muscles in my cheeks too but none of them jumped because I didn’t grit my teeth like I should have done.

  No, regrettably, I did not.

  “It might be ill-advised to say this directly to an officer of the law, but if you call Patrick my sugar daddy one more time
to my face, I might be moved to violence.”

  “Memory serves, you aren’t a big fan of violence.”

  “No and especially not when it’s being used to demonstrate to a drug peddler that someone is a tough guy and deserves to have his place on his crew when it isn’t part of their nature at all.”

  “Considering Lonnie got his face blown off by your best friend, gotta admit, gives me a shudder to think I took his ass down and humiliated him just months before he stared into his girlfriend’s eyes as she pulled the trigger that ended his life.”

  “I think we all learned the hard way that Maria was far more troubled than we knew.”

  “Than you knew, Cady. I had her ticket.”

  “Yes, of course you did, Coert. Though, among many other things, you didn’t share that with me until it was way too late.”

  Another muscle leaping in his jaw and then, “You knew the things you needed to know.”

  I raised a brow. “Like the fact my best friend was running drugs and capable of murder?” I then shook my head. “I must beg to differ. Only you knew that.”

  “First part, yeah. Second part shocked the crap outta me.”

  “Then we both experienced that emotion.”

  “You visit her?” he asked.

  That question surprised me so much I sat up in my chair.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You were tight with her.”

  “She murdered her boyfriend and ran drugs, Coert,” I returned.

  “You thought your boyfriend ran drugs and you didn’t have a problem with that.”

  It was a wonder my head didn’t jerk to the side considering his words felt like a slap in the face.

  “Just a second ago you said I knew the things I needed to know,” I snapped. “And I thought I did.”

  “I thought so too.”

  Another blow.

  “Is this a part of your official visit?” I asked cuttingly.

  “Nope,” he replied easily. “This is indication of why your ass should not be in that chair or anywhere near the entire state of Maine.”

  “So you get all of Maine?”

  That was snide.

  “If I had my choice, yes. And when it comes to you, I’d add and then some. But your ass is in that chair so it’s apparent I don’t have my choice. So how about you don’t give me another reason to come out here?”

  “You’re very aware my brother is an ass,” I reminded him.

  “I’m very aware of a lot of things,” he retorted. “Like the fact trouble dogs you like a shadow.”

  “Not that you care, but I’ve lived a trouble-free life since my best friend went down for life without parole for first degree murder with five years unnecessarily tacked on to that for her drug dabbling. Though I don’t need to tell you that since you were the arresting officer. In fact, with a few hiccups,” not how I’d normally describe helping a man I adored battle cancer for twelve years but I was on a roll, “it’s been positively jolly.”

  “Money buys a lot of shit.”

  I knew this to be true but I didn’t get the chance to confirm that knowledge.

  Coert wasn’t quite finished.

  “Guess in all I thought you were, I never imagined it’d buy you.”

  I felt my face get tight. “If you’re quite finished with insulting me, I’d like to go back to enjoying my coffee, the view and my solitude.”

  “Whoever that friend of yours is in there, Cady, keep her reined in.”

  Kath was hell on wheels with a credit card and the ability to online shop and fortunately her husband was loaded, but that didn’t mean on occasion she didn’t take things to extremes.

  Other than that and her recently revealed rabid bent to protect me, it was laughable that Coert assumed she needed to be “reined in.”

  “She’s the mother of two,” I informed him.

  “She swore at a man repeatedly on his own doorstep and he didn’t even know her name.”

  “She was upset on my behalf,” I defended.

  “It’s not an excuse.”

  He somewhat had me there but then again, he hadn’t been present when Caylen was being . . . well, Caylen.

  “I’ll endeavor to make certain Kath doesn’t cause heartache and mayhem in Magdalene,” I assured.

  “Cady, I’m not takin’ this as a joke.”

  I pressed my lips together.

  Coert did not press his together.

  “It’s not like nothing ever happens in this county, but we don’t have South American drug cartels making deals with assholes who’re perfectly willing to flood our streets with dope and girlfriends blowing holes through their boyfriends’ faces as their way of killing three birds with one stone. Breaking up with him, solidifying their position in a bad guy’s crew and clearing the way to take their place in that guy’s bed.”

  “Coert, that happened seventeen years ago. I hardly got caught up with another Maria in the time in between.”

  “I don’t know what you got caught up in but you haven’t been here long and I already got a sheriff of another county callin’ me to have a chat with you to tell you to back off, so what am I supposed to think?”

  I was seeing Kath’s behavior yesterday as less supportive than I felt it was at the time and more a pain in the behind.

  “Kath will be leaving next week,” I shared with him.

  “Good,” he muttered.

  It wasn’t but I wasn’t going to dwell on that.

  “And all will be quiet again at the lighthouse,” I went on.

  “Good,” he said louder.

  “Now, can this tender trip down memory lane be done?”

  He wore his shades through our entire discussion and I couldn’t see his eyes.

  I still knew that his regard had changed and I knew it with the heat that suddenly seemed to be burning my skin.

  Even his voice had changed in a way that I didn’t quite understand. It was lower, rougher, almost thick when he said, “Yes, this trip down memory lane can absolutely be done.”

  And then it absolutely was because he dropped his hands from his hips, turned and sauntered away.

  I watched him go and only then realized how fast my heart was beating and how it made my skin feel tingly under the burn he’d left behind.

  Long after he’d gone from sight, I turned to the sea and took a sip of my coffee.

  I couldn’t keep it up, though, and since I couldn’t, I gave up, set the coffee aside, put my feet on the veranda, bent double so my belly and chest were to my thighs, and I wrapped my arms around the back of my head.

  I deep breathed because I was not going to cry. I was not going to cry. I’d vowed to myself after I hung up with Kath months ago that Coert was never going to make me cry again.

  It took a long time.

  But by the time I sat up straight, grabbed my cup and went in to warm it up, I’d won that battle at least.

  I had not cried.

  Kath

  Well after the sheriff strolled off, Kath backed slowly and silently away from her place eavesdropping at the side of Cady’s open front door.

  She tore her eyes away from Cady slumped over in her chair with her arms wrapped around the back of her head and dashed on bare feet up the stairs.

  She closed the door to her room.

  She grabbed her phone.

  She made her call.

  And she sat on the side of the bed, listening to it ring.

  “Sweetheart, it’s early. Everything okay?” Pat asked, sleep still in his voice.

  “Sheriff Coert Yeager is totally and completely head over heels in love with Cady.”

  Pat treated her to a long moment of silence before he growled, “What?”

  Quickly, eyes on the door, voice lowered, she told him about the scene she’d just spied on through the screen at Cady’s front door.

  “Bring her home,” Pat ordered.

  “Pat, did you hear all I just said?”

  “I heard you tell me thi
s guy is an asshole and we knew that already but he doesn’t need to be driving up to Cady’s house and being more of an asshole. Especially when she’s alone. So bring her home.”

  “Pat, did you hear all I just said?” Kath asked.

  “I heard every word.”

  “Did you understand the meaning behind any of them?”

  “Kath—”

  “No way, all this time in between, he’s got this shot with her alone, he’s gonna take that shot to drag past history through the gulf between them if he does not love her like a crazy man.”

  “And I should listen to this because clearly I love a crazy woman,” Pat muttered.

  “Pat!” she snapped, trying not to be loud.

  “Kathy, honey, do not get all gushy and romantic. Not about this.”

  “He didn’t even have to come out himself. I’m sure he’s got deputies. This isn’t exactly a small town. I mean, it is, but it isn’t. And everywhere is populated around here and he’s sheriff of the whole county.”

  “Kath—”

  “And he instigated it, went right in there, saying stuff just so, I don’t know . . . so he wouldn’t have to leave. His business here, which I’ll repeat he could have sent a deputy to do, or really, ignored it all together, could have taken about two minutes. But he launched in and that was it.”

  “What did Cady do?”

  “She launched right in too!”

  Her voice was rising so she got up and raced to the window to see if she could see the veranda from there, and since she couldn’t she started to pace so she could take her agitation out on her feet, not express it with her mouth.

  “Do not say any of this stuff to Cady,” Pat demanded through her movements.

  “Of course I’m not going to say any of this to Cady. That’d take the fun out of it.”

  Pat’s, “What?” sounded alarmed.

  “This is gonna be epic.”

  “Kath—”

  “And he’s cute.”

  “Oh boy,” Pat mumbled.

  “I mean, not cute-cute. He’s manly. Like, very manly. All tall, dark, aviator glasses, sheriff manly.”

  “Do you need a cold shower, sweetheart?” Pat asked half-teasing, half-annoyed.

  Kath stopped pacing, stared at her pink toes and whispered, “He’s perfect for her, honey.”