up here in the backwoods?”
Bobby nodded as he moved in to read the monitor on the desk. “Especially with the phase two I have planned.”
“As curious as I am about this ‘phase two’ of yours, why exactly did that red light go off on your desk?” Zip walked to the wall of monitors and peered closely at them. “All I see out there is trees.”
Remembering the instructions Dev had emailed him, Bobby pressed a key to move the update backward until he saw the half-dozen screen captures. He leaned in close, then closer still, his eyes fixed on images taken of the driveway, outside the main gate but definitely on his land.
“I’m going to go out and get some fresh air.” Bobby left the room, closing the door behind his friend who’d followed him.
“I worked you over pretty good this morning. You’re not walking so well, even with that cane,” Zip said. “You plan on sticking to the deck?”
“Actually I’m going for a quick drive.” Leaving his study, Bobby headed for the main hall, the tap of his cane echoing off the stone floor.
“Ace, you can’t—”
“It’s a four by four utility, Zip.” He stopped and turned to his buddy, recognizing the man’s serious professional-therapist face. “Nothing more than a tricked-out golf cart. Standard issue, no modifications done.”
“I’ll come with you. Let me get Daisy. She’d love to ride.”
“I think I can handle this—the cart by myself.”
Zip folded his arms and stared at him, but Bobby just returned his steady gaze. No way was he bringing his friend along. Not this time. This was something he wanted—no, something he needed to face on his own.
“Take your cell and call if you need … anything.”
Bobby nodded and headed for the mudroom that led to the attached four-bay garage. Soon he was mobile, pleased he was able to handle the electric utility vehicle. He’d convinced a nurse at the rehab center to let him get behind the wheel of a cart used by the facility, but the results hadn’t been so good.
Steering the machine to the far end of the barn, he slowed to a stop, his focus on the opening between the two oak trees no one else would notice.
No one but him and Leeann.
Leeann prided herself on not making bad decisions. Not anymore. Goodness knows she’d made more than her share in her lifetime, but for the past six years she’d worked hard not to repeat them.
Then this morning she’d made a doozy.
Maybe because she’d overslept, something she never did. Or it could be because she left the house for her morning run without something in her stomach.
She refused to consider that last night’s decision to crack open her old cedar chest filled with long-forgotten mementos and memories could have anything to do with her heading for the pond.
Her pond.
She ran into the clearing at the water’s edge, which offered some relief considering the rocky terrain she’d just covered. Gasping, she slowed to a walk. Deep breaths pulled in the familiar piney and earth scents as the fresh mountain air invaded her lungs and cooled her heated skin.
Pulling off her ball cap, she shook her hair loose and then peeled off her nylon windbreaker, dropping it to a natural bench formed from a pair of felled trees.
The same bench she’d been coming to since she was a little girl. First alone when she needed a place of her own where she could think, dream or just get away from her mother and her beauty pageant obsession. Then one day she’d noticed a scruffy-looking boy on a secondhand bike staring at her from the other side of her pond. She’d been thirteen and within an hour she’d fallen in love with Bobby Winslow.
Leeann willed away the memory, knowing it was crazy to come here now that Bobby was living just down the road, the road that technically belonged to him, but was her only access to this section of woodland.
Her daily runs didn’t always bring her here, but she’d fallen into her runner zone quickly. Her feet had a mind of their own, easily eating up the miles, drawing her to the peace and comfort she’d always found here.
Until now.
Until Bobby came back to town.
She stopped her pacing, slapped her cap back on and rubbed at the ache in the center of her chest. Lacing her fingers behind her head and planting her feet shoulders-width apart, she pressed her elbows outward and stretched, staring at the thick grove of multicolored trees surrounding the still blue waters.
Despite all the craziness that was her life, this calm oasis was still hers and she’d be damned if anyone was going to keep her away.
Dropping her arms, she stepped her feet together and bent at the waist. Hands curled around her ankles, she touched her forehead to her knees.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Eyes closed, she thought again about the events of yesterday afternoon, after she said goodbye to Bobby and his friend.
She’d finished her shift without writing up the verbal warning she’d handed out. It wasn’t a requirement and fielding the inevitable questions was something she wanted to avoid. It wouldn’t take long for the news to spread that the hometown hero really was back in town, but she wasn’t going to be the one to herald Bobby’s arrival.
Instead she offered quick goodbyes and walked out of the sheriff’s office for the last time with the contents of her locker in a box, including the card she’d found wedged into the metal latch of the locker door, signed by everyone in the department. That was a nice surprise considering she’d refused the goodbye potluck dinner they’d wanted to throw for her.
Of course, tonight she had plans to meet up with Maggie and Racy at the Blue Creek Saloon, for her official “turning the page” party. Seeing how the next chapter in her life was nothing but a blank slate, Leeann didn’t really feel like celebrating.
She wasn’t worried about her lack of income despite the devastating loss of her inheritance and model earnings thanks to a Ponzi scheme a couple of years ago.
She still had enough money in the bank thanks to the sale of the land to pay the bills for a while, but her aunt’s last round of cancer treatments had eaten up most of it. Thankfully, Ursula’s latest medical checkup had come back negative and she was already back to work at her hair salon, but that still didn’t explain the restlessness Leeann had been feeling for the past week.
Heck, for the past month. The past few months.
A restlessness that came to fruition this morning when—for the first time in a long time—she’d awakened without a plan.
Leeann always had a plan.
Most times in writing, sometimes only in her head. Knowing how her day was laid out—hour by hour, step by step—helped her to maintain balance and purpose for her life.
The last time she’d been without a plan had been thanks to a police investigation that
