Emma drank the last of her coffee. The camp had been a constant in her life, like her magnetic north. She hadn’t visited in decades but took for granted the Thomases would always be here. The loss of the camp would be significant. She’d been blessed to have had her experiences here, a little bit of freedom in the great outdoors with supervision. How many of the kids that she worked with would thrive in this type of situation?
The screen door snapped shut.
“Sheriff, good morning,” Lucille called. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Yes, please, Mrs. T,” Daniel replied, his footfall nearing.
With his presence, part of Emma relaxed, her jaw loosening and her shoulders dropping. She turned around and smiled at him. He was different and the same. He was here and so was she. And she could be glad for all those facts while knowing nothing could happen between them.
Lucille headed to the kitchen.
“She insisted I call her Lucille.” Emma’s voice cracked. She sounded silly and eager to please. “She told me I’m too grown up to call her Mrs. Thomas.”
“I can understand. You left and came back another person.”
Emma stiffened.
“It’s not a bad thing. You’re mature. An adult. I’ve never left so I’ll always be a kid to her and Mr. T.” He yawned on the bench opposite, stretching his neck from side to side.
Rough night? She was glad she’d thought the bad joke and not said it. Flirting wasn’t appropriate. He’d set boundaries between them and, given the strained circumstances, a playful and carefree reunion wasn’t in the plan. “Where did you sleep? One of the empty bunk houses?”
He shook his head and pointed to a cot in the corner. “I didn’t want to intrude without asking permission.”
“I understand, but you slept there? Really?” She was touched he’d braved an uncomfortable night out in the open for the sake of the camp. Sure, the gesture had more to do with the Thomases than anyone else, but she couldn’t stop the warmth at the reaction. “Why didn’t I see you when I got here?”
“I went to my vehicle to check in with my deputies. I’m fine.” He tilted his neck, and a loud crack echoed off every beam in the room.
She winced. Her worry over nightmares seemed trivial in comparison to six hours on a broken-down cot.
“Where are your bunkmates?” he asked.
“Still sleeping. I know you said to stick with them. But I couldn’t stay in bed all morning, waiting.”
“Please. For your safety. If you’re not with me, you need to be with a group.”
His words chilled her. Safety in numbers implied the attack last night hadn’t been random.
Lucille returned with a steaming mug, saving Emma from a response. “Here you are, Sheriff.”
“Thank you, Mrs. T.” He took a sip. “Ooh that’s good. I’m expecting Deputy Wells to relieve me, and then I’ll head back to the hospital to see if I can chat with Owen. Would you and Mr. T like a ride?”
“Oh, you’re too sweet, dear.” Lucille sat next to him and patted his hand. “You’ve always done too much for us. We’ll drive ourselves over. The roads are dry, and the shock is gone. I’d prefer my own vehicle if it’s all the same to you.”
“Whatever you want.” He smiled.
Emma wanted him to flash her one of his kind grins.
The genuine warmth between the pair stirred something inside Emma. A deep pang struck beneath her breastbone, a physical ache that matched an inner thought. I could’ve had a connection, too. She wasn’t sure if she lamented the loss of either Lucille Thomas or Daniel Goodwin more.
“Can I join you?” Emma blurted. Two pairs of eyes focused on her. She swallowed. “At the hospital? I’d like to see how Owen is faring.”
“If you’d like, I can take you.” He raked his gaze over her, sweeping down her face before frowning at her feet.
The sun began to rise, brightening every corner of the mess hall. His appraisal was questioning. She glanced down, forgetting she wore pajamas.
“I’ll get changed, of course.” She brushed a hand over her burning cheeks.
“No rush. I have some work to do first. And let’s give Mr. and Mrs. T some time with him alone. Leave in about an hour?”
