Unraveled (18 page)

“You cannot be serious.” Shannon shook her head in disbelief. “If my grandmother was here, she’d throw an absolute fit.”

“Well, she better not find out who’s in the driver’s seat,” Lauren pointed to the truck.

“What?” Shannon followed Lauren’s finger to Jess sitting behind the wheel. She narrowed her eyes. “He’s in so much trouble.”

Jess stopped the truck and the music faded. The mayor climbed out of the passenger seat, dressed in a vintage police officer’s uniform. He adjusted his wide-brimmed hat and surveyed the crowd. When his eyes rested on Lauren, he spoke to Jess and then made his way towards her.

“Oh, no.” Her heart lodged in her throat. “I think he’s coming for me.”

“That’s crazy. What would he want with you?”

“Are you Lauren Carter?” The mayor stopped in front of her, his bushy moustache emphasizing his exaggerated frown.

Lauren swallowed hard and nodded.

“Mr. Thompson, what’s going on? Of course she’s Lauren Carter.” Shannon wedged herself between the mayor and Lauren.

“I’ve an outstanding warrant for your arrest.” He unfolded a crumpled piece of paper and pretended to read it. “Says here you were responsible for another’s demise and never paid your dues. We’ve come to extract justice.”

Lauren’s vision blurred. Was this somebody’s idea of a joke? The hoosegow used to be all in a good fun, a humorous tribute to the town’s once-lawless ways during the historic gold rush. But the mayor’s proclamation hit dangerously close to home.
Another’s demise?

“Can’t she buy her way out?” Shannon asked. “I thought all proceeds benefitted the playground fund.”

“She can.” The mayor nodded. “One hundred dollars is the going rate.”

Lauren didn’t even bother to hide her surprised laughter. She didn’t have a hundred bucks and her purse was back at the Inn. “Well, that settles it, then. I guess I’m going for a ride.” Face flaming with embarrassment at the hoots and catcalls coming from the onlookers, Lauren followed the mayor to the back of the trailer. The obnoxious music began playing from the mounted speakers and the door opened. Two young ‘saloon girls’ smiled and beckoned her inside. She climbed into the makeshift cell, accepted the pink feather boa they draped around her shoulders and looked around for a place to sit.

Blake sat on the wooden bench seat mounted in the middle of the hoosegow, wearing a royal blue feather boa. He met her gaze, eyes dancing with amusement, and patted the empty spot next to him. “Welcome to the party.

Blake watched Lauren walk toward him, cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing. The set of her jaw told him everything he needed to know. She sank onto the bench seat next to him, and stared out at the crowd lining Main Street. He nudged her shoulder. “This is supposed to be fun, you know.”

She refused to look at him. “Is this your idea of a good time?”

“Trapped in this sweet ride, wearing my own feather boa, and surrounded by beautiful ladies … what’s not to like?”

Her lower lip quivered before she trapped it behind her teeth.
Uh oh.
She was getting upset. He was going to clobber Jess when this was all over. “Cough up a Benjamin and you’ll be outta here.”

She scuffed her shoe against the gritty floor of the hoosegow, gripping the bench with both hands as they started to roll forward. “Believe me, I would if I could. The mayor said I was in here because I caused another’s demise.”

He tugged on one end of her boa. “He’s messing with you. I’m sure somebody told him about your incident with Susannah.”

She shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Susannah.”

He clenched his teeth. These mysterious references to her past were getting old. “Is this some kind of a game? If your deep, dark secret is that much of a burden, why don’t you just spill it?” There. He’d said it.

Her spine went rigid. She lifted her chin and stared at him. A tumultuous cloud of surprise, anger and frustration flashed in her eyes. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”

Warning bells chimed in his head. The dam that held his emotions in check started to fissure, slowly at first. Then the words began to tumble out before he could inspect them. “I know you thought you came here to parade that fiancé of yours around town and plan your dream wedding—”

“That was before he dumped me. Thanks for rubbing salt in that wound.”

“Did you stop to consider maybe it was for your own good?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Are you going to give me the come to Jesus talk?”

“Do you need it?” He reached out and tucked a wild curl behind her ear, then let his hand rest on her shoulder. She closed her eyes but didn’t move out of reach. Heart pounding in his chest, he decided to go for broke. “I’ve loved you a long time, Lauren Carter, and you can’t fool me. Whatever it is, the gig is up. You need to let it go.”

Lauren’s eyes opened, two green pools of hurt and despair, moist with fresh tears. His heart ached. He longed to pull her into his arms but everything about her warned him not to close the distance between them. Mayor Thompson’s voice boomed through the loudspeaker as he identified his next prisoners, superintendent Maxwell and his wife. Blake groaned and dropped his chin to his chest.
Please. No. Of all the people to pile in the hoosegow at a time like this.

He raised his head and prayed they’d buy their way out. The couple stood at the ring toss game, cheering as their grandson tried to win a prize. The color drained from Mrs. Maxwell’s face when the hoosegow stopped and the mayor called her name a second time. Mr. Maxwell made a big show of opening his wallet and extracting several bills. The mayor climbed out of the truck, bull horn in hand. He offered generous praise for the donation to the playground fund and shook Mr. Maxwell’s hand. The crowd cheered and then the obnoxious piano music began to play again.

Lauren jumped up from the bench, swiped angrily at the dampness on her cheeks. “Do you have your phone?”

Blake pulled his smartphone from his pocket. “Yes. Why?”

“Text Jess. Tell him I need out. Now.”

“Are you okay?” One of the high school girls riding with them must have noticed the tears. Her eyes were wide with concern, false eyelashes batting against her cheek as she touched Lauren’s arm. Blake fired off a quick text to Jess. They needed to get her out of there before she made a scene.

“No.” Lauren brushed past her and went to the tailgate, kicking against it with the sole of her shoe.

“Lauren, hang on.” Blake shoved his phone in his pocket and went after her. “Wait a minute, we’ll get you out.”

He wasn’t sure getting between her and that door was the best idea but her emotions were escalating and the harder she pounded on the plywood with her fist, the more people in the crowd were starting to notice. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him. She writhed and twisted, fighting to break free.

“Let me go,” she hissed.

“I’ll let you go when he opens the door and not a minute sooner. You’ve got to calm down, people are watching.” He spoke into her ear, forcing a firm and soothing tone, masking the panic that shredded his insides. What in the world just happened here?

Jess was out of the cab and heading toward the back of the hoosegow, a mischievous gleam in his eye. He opened his mouth, no doubt to fire off a smart remark. Blake gave him his most pointed stare and shook his head slightly.
Don’t
.

Jess clamped his lips shut and lowered the tailgate, a bewildered expression on his face when he noticed the tears. “Come on out. Party’s over,” he mumbled.

Blake released his hold and Lauren was out of the hoosegow, curls and boa bouncing against her yellow dress like a fiery comet.

“Whoa.” Jess watched her go. “She is
ticked
. What did you do?”

“I told her I’d loved her a long time. Apparently that was not what she wanted to hear.” He squeezed Jess’s shoulder. “Say a prayer for me. I’m going in.” Blake followed Lauren through the crowd and down to the waterfront. Most of the people milling about wore the navy and white outerwear that signified they were passengers on the
Columbia Princess
, the current cruise ship in port. At least that lessened the chances of someone they knew well interrupting his pursuit.

He kept his distance, since that dress and hair were easy to spot. When she ran out of sidewalk, Lauren simply sank onto the nearest bench overlooking the water and wrapped her arms around her torso. His chest tightened.
Lord, give me wisdom and patience because I’m lacking in both.
Drawing a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he walked up to the bench and sat down near her. A breeze was blowing off the water, carrying a tangy cocktail of diesel fuel and fish from the boats returning with another day’s catch. A feather in her boa came loose, floating gently toward the ground. “Talk to me. What’s got you so rattled?”

She reached for the locket around her neck, zinging it back and forth on its chain. A wan smile stretched across her face. Somehow he knew her words would be anything but funny. He steeled himself for whatever came next. “Most girls dream of finding a guy like you. First you’re helping my family out, then you kiss me like—like I haven’t been kissed in a very long time—now you tell me you’ve loved me forever and all I can think about is how horribly selfish I’ve been.”

“Love covers a multitude of wrongs. Doesn’t it?”

“Don’t you see?” She turned and faced him, brow furrowed. “It’s too much. I don’t deserve you.”

“Believe me, I’ve said the same thing about a million times. If only my heart would listen.” He dragged his palms down the legs of his jeans. “I crashed and burned after you left. Wasted every night of the week, hanging out with people who were going nowhere fast—”

“That explains why you never called me.”

Anger and resentment bubbled up inside. “Believe it or not, calling the girl who ripped your heart out and stomped on it is frowned upon when you’re in detox.”

She flinched. “What did you say?”

“I did ninety days of in-patient rehab, missed a semester of school. Then I had to beg to get my basketball scholarship back. It’s only by the grace of God that I’ve stayed sober … eight years this October.”

She pressed her knuckles to her lips, tears brimming in her eyes yet again.

Blake tipped his head back and stared at the sky, his knee bouncing as he slung one arm along the back of the bench. “You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this.”

She shook her head. “No. I—I need to hear it.”

“This isn’t a guilt trip. I just—” He raked his fingers through his hair. “From the minute I touched you at baggage claim, I knew. I knew I was going to fall all over again.” He turned toward her, his heart in his throat.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I need to know how you feel. About me. About us. You can’t kiss me like that, then tell me it was a mistake. I won’t be your rebound guy. I need to know you aren’t going to run as soon as life throws a curveball.”

She stared out at the water. “But running’s what I do best, don’t you think?”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “Please. Just put me out of my misery, okay? I’m dying here.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have led you on. My life is one hot mess right now and you need someone who can commit. I get it.” She paused and he opened his eyes, hoping this was the moment she’d finally break free of the burden she carried. “I’ve got an interview in Portland next week. If they make an offer, I plan to accept it. I’m sorry, Blake. I can’t be what you need.”

Blake pressed his lips into a thin line and stared straight ahead, his vision blurring. Her words broke over him like a rogue wave, dousing any embers of hope he’d clung to. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of watching him fall apart. Pushing up from the bench, he forced himself to look her in the eye. “Well, I guess I know where we stand. See you around.” He stormed off, knuckling away a tear. At least his shop was across the street and he could hide out until he pulled himself together.”

The morning of the race dawned cool and bright. Lauren whispered a prayer of thanks. This day was going to be hard enough. Although rain and dense fog matched her mood, it wasn’t ideal for a relay race. She’d spent another night sleeping fitfully, waking often with yesterday’s conversation stuck on repeat in her mind. What a disaster. If Blake found out the truth now, he’d never forgive her. That stupid hoosegow rolled up and she’d lost her mind. He’d been so tender and honest, while she’d done nothing but wound him. All over again.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she slipped out of her pajamas and pulled on her running tights and the oldest t-shirt she could find. The trail up the hill to the water tower would be a muddy, slippery mess. She glanced at the faded letters on her shirt. Look at that. Her lucky shirt. Huh. Wasn’t she wearing it the last time she won the race? Well, a good luck charm never hurt. She’d need all the help she could get today. She twisted her hair into a long braid and splashed water on her face. The aroma of bacon and cinnamon rolls wooed her downstairs.

“There’s our girl.” Dad smiled as she dropped her running shoes at the bottom of the stairs and headed for the coffee maker.

“Morning.” She stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his rough cheek.

“Are you ready for the race?” Mom stood at the oven with the door open, mitts on both hands as she lifted a pan of cinnamon rolls onto a trivet.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, mixing with the shame and guilt she already housed. “I’m a little anxious.”

Dad patted her shoulder. “You’ll be great. Just have fun.”

“Can I fix you a plate?” Mom offered.

Lauren splashed half and half in her coffee. “I’ll get it. I don’t want to eat too much.” She couldn’t stand running on a full stomach.

“I can give you a ride down to the starting line when you’re ready,” Dad said.

“Thanks. Let me pound this coffee and I’ll be ready to go.”

Mom slid a cinnamon roll onto her plate. Lauren wrinkled her nose. “Mom, I can’t eat that before a race.”

“It’s carbohydrates. Besides, this is Cove to Creek, not the state championship.”

Lauren ducked her head and loaded her fork with scrambled eggs. It was too early to argue.

Footsteps in the hallway interrupted their conversation and Lauren turned to watch Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan as they strolled into the kitchen. Lauren struggled to hide her amusement. He was dressed for an expedition in the Arctic while Mrs. Sullivan looked like she stepped off the pages of Vogue.

Dad caught her eye and hid his smile behind his coffee cup.

“Good morning.” Mom hugged them both and offered coffee.

“I’m ready to go,” Lauren whispered before sliding out of her chair. She was too anxious to eat anything else. Besides, Aunt Jane would wander in soon and Lauren didn’t want to hear her critical commentary of the Cove to Creek. She’d heard enough last night when they’d spent a couple of hours sorting through Granny’s things. Aunt Jane hadn’t said one kind word about Emerald Cove since she’d arrived. Maybe that meant she wouldn’t stay much longer.

Dad grabbed his jacket, jangling his car keys.

“Where are you off to this morning?” Mrs. Sullivan’s berry red lips curved in a curious smile.

“Big day today. The annual Cove to Creek relay race,” Dad said.

“Oh? Well, have a good time.” Mrs. Sullivan waved and turned back to stirring her coffee.

Mom wrapped her arms around Lauren and kissed her cheek. She pulled back and smiled. “Good luck, hon. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Lauren followed Dad outside. She stopped when he unlocked the door of his patrol car. “Dad, you can’t be serious. I don’t want to show up in that.”

“Would you prefer the old, unreliable minivan?”

Lauren frowned. “No.”

He gestured to the passenger side. “Get in. You can ride up front today.”

She climbed in reluctantly. The interior smelled of leather and spearmint gum. Dad turned the key and the engine purred. She had fond memories of racing Seth out the front door to see who could greet Dad first when he came home. The winner always got to sit behind the wheel and play with the CB radio. The loser was confined to the passenger seat. Seth almost always got there first.

A few wispy clouds floated across a brilliant blue sky. The water was especially green and rather calm. “Beautiful day to win a race,” Dad said.

Lauren glanced his way and smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“You’ve been gone a long time, sweetheart. We’ve missed you. It’s been nice having you back under our roof again.”

Lauren licked her lips. “I couldn’t stand it when I heard about Granny. I had to see her.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here?”

Holden’s chiseled features flashed in her memory, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just concerned, that’s all. Seems like your situation with, uh, Holden caught you unaware.”

Lauren’s throat tightened. She swallowed hard. “Unaware of what?”

“Is there anything I need to know? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

How did he know?
“I’ve made a mess of things, Dad. It’s … complicated.”

Dad gave her a questioning glance. “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word.”

“Thanks.”

Dad pulled into the empty parking lot behind the bank and turned off the engine. He reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “Have fun today.” He let go of her hand and got out of the car, striking up a conversation with another police officer lingering nearby.

The butterflies had multiplied. Maybe she should’ve eaten a little more. Jeremy’s black truck slid into the parking space next to theirs. He looked through the window and grinned. She waved but her hand froze in mid-air when Blake climbed out of the passenger side, then flipped the seat forward so Tisha could join him.
You can do this.
She pushed the door open and Jeremy greeted her.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” He winked and stretched his arms high over his head. “I see you’re riding in style.”

“Very funny.” She narrowed her eyes and punched his shoulder.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to hurt your hand.” His eyes twinkled as he flexed his muscles.

Laughter bubbled up in her throat. She could never stay mad at Jeremy. Shoes scuffled on the pavement and she stole a glance at Blake. Their eyes met and the heavy ache of regret weighed her down. He was never good at concealing his emotions. Dark circles ringed his eyes and a pillow mark creased his cheek. This was a very bad idea.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes flitting from hers to Jeremy’s and then toward the ground.

“Good morning.” She managed a small smile and a polite nod in Tisha’s general direction. Tisha wiggled her fingers before pulling them back in the sleeves of her long sleeve gray t-shirt. Her sleek platinum blond ponytail bobbed on her shoulder as she jogged up and down in her fancy trail runners. At least she came ready to race.

“Sleep well, big brother?” Jeremy reached out and rubbed Blake’s cheek.

Blake frowned and knocked his hand away. “Not really. Why?”

Jeremy shrugged. “No reason. Tisha, what do you think? Ready to win this thing?”

She smiled and her sparkling white teeth gleamed in the sunlight. “You know it.”

A shrill whistle rang out and they looked up to see Jess and Shannon waving from the registration table.

“Let’s go check in.” Jeremy led the way across the parking lot. Lauren fell in step behind Blake and Tisha, who was chattering non-stop. Groups of people huddled around the registration table, talking and pinning numbers on each other’s shirts.

“Wow.” Lauren looked at a woman’s number as she passed by. “This looks pretty official.”

“Yep, things have changed a little since your last race, Lo-lo.” Jeremy said.

Tisha shot her a look. “You’ve raced before?”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Don’t let her fool you.” Jeremy glanced back over his shoulder. “Lauren won this race back in the day.”

Tisha’s mouth fell open.

“We were a team. And that was a long time ago,” Lauren said, averting her eyes from Tisha’s gaping mouth.

“Hey.” Shannon grinned and handed her a piece of paper with black numbers and fancy logo printed on it. “Are you excited?”

Lauren looked at her number. 252. Sounded good. “I’m getting there. Big turn out?”

“Almost three hundred entries. I don’t know where they all came from.”

Lauren scooped up a handful of safety pins from the bowl. She turned away and bumped right into Tisha. Not exactly the person she hoped would pin her number on for her.

“Would you like some help?” Jeremy held out his hand for the pins.

He stood behind her and tucked the pins between his lips. “I’m glad you’re racing today. I know you wish you were somewhere else right now.”

Lauren raised her chin. She was glad he couldn’t see her face. “This race is one of my favorite things about Emerald Cove. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“My brother’s in a mood today. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

Lauren stiffened. “That’s sort of a tall order, don’t you think?”

“That’s true. You two never could stay away from each other.” He patted her on the shoulder. “You’re all set.”

Her cheeks warmed under his bold declaration.

A whistle blew and a man with a megaphone bellowed instructions for the racers to line up by age group. The runners moved toward the starting area in a large pack. Lauren recognized many of the people lining the course with lawn chairs, staking their claim on any chunk of vacant sidewalk they could find.

The hum of conversation escalated as the runners fanned out and started to stretch their legs. Lauren stood next to Jess and leaned over to touch her toes, feeling the tug in her hamstrings. When she straightened, a familiar laugh rang out nearby. Lauren glanced at Blake in time to see Tisha smiling as she grasped his shoulder and stretched her quadriceps.
Whatever.
But she couldn’t look away. His sleeveless shirt emphasized his ripped biceps and broad chest. He hadn’t bothered to shave and the stubble on his cheeks sent her mind wandering back to their encounter at the Inn.

“Enjoying the view?” Jess nudged her with his elbow.

Her cheeks flamed and she averted her eyes. “Not really.”

“Aunt Lauren!” A little boy’s voice floated over the crowd and Lauren turned toward the sidewalk.
Perfect timing.
Joshua stood next to his parents, waving enthusiastically and holding a big piece of poster board with her name printed in block letters with red marker. She waved back.

“I’ll be right back, Jess.” She weaved through the racers until she stood in front of her family. “Hi, Joshua. That’s an awesome sign, buddy.”

“Yep.” He grinned from ear to ear and wiggled the sign in the air.

Lauren glanced at Angela and Matt, who were busy dispensing snacks to the little girls in their double stroller. Angela wore Gavin in a baby carrier, his little legs in tiny footed pajamas dangling from the openings. She bit her lip and focused on Joshua. Admiring a newborn would be enough to send her over the edge today.

Matt looked up from the stroller and smiled. “Hey, it’s our favorite racer. Good luck, Aunt Lauren.”

Lauren shivered, jogging in place to warm up. “Thanks. Are you saving a seat for Mom?”

Angela nodded. “She’s at the hospital picking Granny up.”

Lauren stared. “What?” Granny wasn’t ready for an outing. She puffed her cheeks and blew out a breath.

“Don’t worry about it, Lo-lo. We’ll take care of Granny. Go race.” Matt patted her arm.

Lauren pinched her bottom lip behind her teeth. It was hard not to worry. An air horn sounded and she jumped.

“Relay teams,” a man called through a megaphone. “To the starting line. Race begins in three minutes.”

Lauren’s heart sped up. “I better go. See you guys.” She waved and turned back into the crowd, bumping shoulders and hips and trying not to step on toes. This had to be a record turnout for the relay race. Blake and Jeremy stood huddled with Tisha and Jess near the starting line. Blake caught her eye as she moved closer, but his expression was unreadable. She glanced away. Maybe he would run the first leg and she could avoid talking to him until after the race.

“Runners, listen up.” Megaphone man piped up again. “Some part of your body must touch the tower. The hill is muddy and wet. No hitting, tripping, shoving. We’re watching you.”

“When did they add all these new rules?” Lauren asked. “He is such a killjoy.”

“I think somebody complained after a certain incident with a girl named Susannah,” Jess nudged her.

Lauren huffed out a breath. “That’s ridiculous. She totally tripped.”

“First racers to the starting line.”

“Wait. Who’s going first?” Lauren glanced from Jess to Jeremy.

“We thought you could run anchor. Tisha will start us out,” Jeremy said.

Great. That meant a lot of standing around. Waiting. With Blake. She’d have to take a warm up lap around a parking lot. Anything to ease the tension between them.

“Here we go.” Tisha bounced up and down like a pogo stick as the first wave of runners took their places along the white line spray painted on the asphalt on Main Street.

Lauren checked her shoe laces, stretched one last time and took a deep breath. The crowd began clapping and cheering. A shot rang out and the runners surged forward. The crowd erupted in more shouts and someone banged on a cowbell. Lauren couldn’t help but smile. Their enthusiasm was contagious.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A strong hand clapped her shoulder and Lauren turned to see Mr. Peters, her old math teacher, grinning from ear to ear. “Decided to come home and defend your title?”

“Hi, Mr. Peters. No, I—”

“Blake, nice to see you again.” Mr. Peters turned away before she could answer and shook Blake’s hand. “I hear this rafting thing is really taking off. How about that?”

“It’s going well so far, Mr. Peters.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, guess I better find my team.” Mr. Peters turned away then came back and leaned in close. “Oh, Lauren. I hear Susannah Farmer is running this year. Better watch your back.” He chuckled and disappeared into the crowd.