God, crushes were dumb.
“Monday morning. The rainstorm.” He set me down, then took a step back. “You were standing right here, where I am now. I think that’s when you lost it.” He pulled a headlamp from his coat pocket, flipped it on with his thumb, and handed it to me before dropping into a squat. “Move the light around. See if you can pick up something shiny.”
I let the light follow his hands as he brushed them over the dirt and short grass. “Why do you think I lost it in the rain?”
“You did this thing with your hands. Dragged them over your hair and face like you were trying to squeegee the water off you.” He shifted further onto the grass, off the dirt path. “It would have bounced, but not far,” he muttered to himself.
I squatted next to him to get closer with the light. “I don’t remember that.”
“I do.”
His gaze flicked to my face, then to my chest. Hecouldn’t see my shape hidden beneath his coat, but the sudden pink on his cheekbones made me feel like he could. I didn’t hate it. If I hadn’t been buried in his coat, I would have been squeezing my boobs together, propping them up to give him a better view.
A rainbow reflected on his black coat, and I gasped. “Wait—I think—” I wiggled the light, and the rainbow danced.
“Got it.” He plucked the earring from the grass, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger.
I gaped at it. “Holy shit. I can’t believe you found it. That’s incredible.”
“Things have a way of coming unhidden, if you know where to shine the light.” He turned the earring over in his hand, studying it. His jaw clenched. “The sheriff—” He broke off, frowning.
The sheriff? Why had he brought that up now? My throat squeezed. Outside of vaguely hoping everything was all right, I hadn’t given a second thought to why the sheriff had needed Jeremiah. It wasn’t any of my business—but what if it was? If the FBI knew I was here, they’d want local law enforcement’s cooperation, wouldn’t they? Maybe? I didn’t know how any of that worked.
“Was it about me?” I blurted out.
There was no surprise in his expression at the question, just a calm sort of focus. “Is there a reason the sheriff would be asking about you?”
My laugh sounded fake to my own ears. “I can’t think of any crimes I’ve committed lately.” Running away before they could ask me about crimes other people had committed wasn’t a crime in and of itself, right? I sure hoped not.
He regarded me quietly, not rushing to more questions. Giving me time to expound on my answer. I shifted nervously. Those blue-gray eyes were as good as a shot of truth serum in my veins. Any second now, I was going to vomit out the whole story.
“Here’s your earring.” He dropped it into my hand.
“Thanks,” I rasped, my throat dry.
He turned to go, then paused. “You want to go for a ride this afternoon?”
I blinked, surprised. “Yes. But I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“That’s okay. I’ll give you a lesson.”
I watched him go, feeling excited and uneasy at the same time, and then ran inside to get dressed. Hopefully, Cecily and Amos wouldn’t care that I was late. It wasn’t like I was getting paid, but they were counting on me. I hated letting anyone down, but especially Cecily. The way she’d made sure I felt safe with Jeremiah before leaving the bar had been so sweet.
It wasn’t until I was pulling on my boots that I realized Jeremiah had never told me what the sheriff wanted.
The kitchen was eerilyquiet as I pushed through the swinging doors. Cecily and Amos were already there, which normally meant Cecily’s cheerful recounting of the latest episode of whatever TV show she was watching, interspersed with grunts from Amos—who pretended he didn’t care but was fully invested in her recaps—and the metallic scrapes and bangs of kitchen work.
I had always been good at reading a room, and right now the room was telling me something was very wrong before I even opened the door.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my gaze darting between Amos and Cecily.
“Lennon!” Cecily spun away from the prep table and threw her arms around my neck, sniffling back tears.
“Whoa.” My wide eyes met Amos’s over her shoulder. “What happened?”
His mouth flattened into a grim line. “Miguel—he was supposed to work Monday but didn’t show up.” I nodded. “He was in an accident. Cecily found him yesterday morning. Barely alive. Poor kid.”
“Oh my god.” I rubbed Cecily’s shoulder blades. That must have been why the sheriff was with Jeremiah. It was about Miguel, not me. Guilt chased the reliefaway.Not everything is about you, Lennon. Don’t be so selfish.No wonder Jeremiah had looked at me like I had disappointed him. “Is he going to be all right?”
