Instead, I sit there in the car, rain hammering the roof, thinking about a woman with tired brown eyes and a little boy who loves dinosaurs.
A few hours later…
Sleep doesn't come easy.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain. My mind won't shut off. Keeps circling back to Claire, to the way she moved, to the fear that flickered across her face when I first approached.
Who is she running from? A husband? Boyfriend? Someone dangerous enough to make her pack up her whole life and get on a bus to nowhere?
It's not my business. She made that clear. I'm just the sheriff who helped her find a decent place to stay. Tomorrow, she'll figure out her next move, and I'll go back to my regular routine of traffic stops and noise complaints and checking on Mrs. Patterson's lost cat.
Except I can't stop thinking about Jackson's small hand clutching that dinosaur. About the way Claire held herself together even when I could see she was one wrong word away from breaking.
I roll over, punch my pillow, and close my eyes. When I finally drift off, I dream about explosions and smoke and someone calling for help that I can't reach.
Next Day
I wake up at five-thirty, same as always. The rain has stopped, leaving everything wet and clean and smelling like pine. I go through my morning routine on autopilot—shower, coffee, toast with peanut butter. Check my phone for any overnight emergencies. Nothing urgent.
By six-thirty, I'm dressed and out the door. Tell myself I'm just doing an early patrol. Checking on things. Making sure the storm didn't cause any damage.
The truth is harder to admit.
I can't stop thinking about them.
I drive through town, taking my usual route. Everything looks normal. The bakery is already open, lights bright in the pre-dawn gray. A few early risers are out walking their dogs. The stoplight at Main and Cedar is working properly. It's been on the fritz lately, and I've been meaning to call the county about it.
I turn onto Route 9 without consciously deciding to. The motel appears ahead, its neon sign still flickering in the morning light. There are maybe six cars in the parking lot. A sedan in front of Room 7.
I tell myself I'm just checking. Making sure they're okay. Making sure no one bothered them during the night.
I tell myself this is part of my job.
I park a few spots down and sit there for a moment, engine running. What am I doing? I can't just knock on their door at six-forty-five in the morning. Claire will think I'm stalking her. Or worse, that I'm exactly the kind of man she's running from.
I should leave. Come back later with a legitimate excuse. Maybe bring information about job opportunities or rental listings. Something professional. Something that doesn't make me look like a lonely middle-aged sheriff who can't stop thinking about a woman he met yesterday.
Before I can make a decision, the door to Room 7 opens.
Jackson comes out first, still in his pajamas, holding Rex and looking around with sleepy curiosity. Claire follows, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing the same clothes fromyesterday. She's scanning the parking lot, checking for threats, I realize. Looking for danger.
Her eyes land on my car. I see the recognition, followed immediately by wariness. She puts a hand on Jackson's shoulder, ready to pull him back inside if necessary.
No choice now. I turn off the engine and get out, raising one hand in what I hope is a non-threatening gesture.
"Morning," I call out. "Sorry to bother you so early."
She doesn't answer right away. Just keeps watching me, one hand on her son, like she's calculating how quickly she can get him to safety if I turn out to be a threat.
"Mommy, it's the sheriff!" Jackson bounces on his toes. "He likes dinosaurs!"
"I remember, baby." Her voice is steady, but I can see the tension on her shoulders. "Stay close to me."
I stop walking when I'm still a good ten feet away. Far enough that I'm not crowding them. Close enough to talk without shouting.
"I was doing my morning patrol," I say. The lie comes easily. "Wanted to check in, make sure you had everything you needed."
"We're fine." She shifts slightly, putting herself more firmly between Jackson and me. "You didn't need to come by."
