Page 61 of Hearts at War

What the hell are you doing here, Roarke?

I wanted to assume from his previous visit, when he came and told me about his ex, that he didn’t view me as only the enemy anymore. That he was changing his mind about me.

If he was here to stir up trouble, or to antagonize me about being pulled over...

I don’t have time for it. For you.

He tore his attention from me, and I hated that I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t guess what he was up to. I couldn’t even manage a hello in a reply of a greeting for him.

“What’s going on here?” Roarke asked.

“She was going eighteen over,” Marty replied. He didn’t sound like a hardass about it, like I feared. But matter-of-fact, almost apologetic like he really didn’t want to make anyone’s day worse.

“Huh.” Roarke glanced down at me. “Must have been a hectic day at work, huh, Heather?” He smiled at the cop. “I know how that feels.”

Marty laughed along with him. “It couldn’t have been as bad as that time Todd fell off that horse and got all banged up tumbling down that incline.”

“Ohhh.” Roarke shook his head. “That was brutal.”

“And the old man didn’t even care. Got right back up only took a week off.”

Roarke scoffed. “A week? No. He was back on the ranch the next damn day.”

What is going on? What is this?

I could see how they were friends, old friends based on this ability to share stories from long ago, but why was this happy hour to catch up? Why here?

I need to go. The urge to speed the rest of the way to the cabin and lock the door was overwhelming me. They were wasting my time, depriving me of getting to safety and trying to compartmentalize the chance I could’ve seen David in town today.

They chatted on, almost seeming oblivious to me sitting here, anxious in the driver’s seat.

“I swear I’ll never see anyone speeding as fast as Gavin, though,” Marty said in their conversation about who sped where around here. “The old boss said it was even faster than when then teens raced on the new pavement when they first put in the roads out toward the highway up north.”

“Gavin?” Roarke smiled and shook his head. “No. I don’t believe it.”

“Hmm-mmm.” Marty nodded. “Wendy’s water broke for their first daughter and he was so damn worried about how painful her contractions were getting and all.”

“Well, that’s sort of justified, if you ask me,” Roarke replied. “Medical emergency and all.”

“Slightly. But still...” Marty glanced down at me, as if trying to phrase how that wasn’t the situation now. If anyone had a medical reason to go fast, it would look like Roarke would have that right, with the bandages wrapped around his arm.

“That’s not the case here,” Marty said.

But...it is. Kind of. I was under mental duress. I was severely stressed and not thinking with a clear head. Adrenaline moved me, not common sense or logic. A deep-seated sense of fight or flight was prompting me to go, go, go!

“Yeah, well, it’s still not exactly necessary to give her a ticket and all, is it?” Roarke asked, charming but not sugar-coating his tone.

Wait. What? He was trying to get me out of trouble?

If anything, this made it even worse!

I didn’t ask him to stop or walk over here. I didn’t request his help, dammit.

“Hey, I’m an understanding man and all,” Marty started, “but...”

He was understanding. I was surprised how polite and easygoing he had been when he approached my window. He wasn’t another jerk or hardass of a cop, stern like he was high and mighty.

Just give me the ticket and let me go hide! My heart had yet to slow down or relax.