AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I spend the next few minutes people-watching, trying to guess their stories. Like I did when I was studying journalism. The smiling teenage couple, their hands stuffed in their partner’s back pocket. The elderly couple strolling arm in arm. The mother with her rounded stomach, her young daughter perched on the shoulders of a broad-chested man.
A raw emotion pinches my stomach. They remind me of the happy family I’d once imagined being part of.
I hold my phone at waist height and practice shooting photos like I learned to do during one of my photojournalism courses. I have no idea how the pictures will turn out because I’m not supposed to look at the screen while I shoot them. That’s part of the fun.
My gaze lands on another young family, standing in front of a police officer with short, dark-blond hair. The officer folds himself to the level of the two boys and shakes their hands. The boys’ faces glow as if he’s a magical creature they revere.
The parents are beaming at the trio, clearly impressed with whatever the officer is saying to their sons.
The officer stands and turns around. It’s only then that I see his face, and I take a stunned step back.
Chief Wilson?
I recognize his face from Violet’s photo. She’d shown it to the group of veterans Troy had taken me to meet over three months ago.
Chief Wilson walks off but doesn’t get far before he stops to talk to another family. The brother and sister—both under the age of seven—seem excited to talk to him.
The clip-clopping of hooves against the dirt ground tears my attention away from Chief Wilson and any other thoughts I might have about the man.
“Are you okay?” Emily asks me a while later. The horses whose cart we just loaded with passengers have lumbered off, and we’re waiting for the second team to return.
Little kids’ laughter comes from somewhere in the line. Two six-year-old girls are playing hopscotch on the uneven ground next to it as they wait for their turn on the wagon ride. They giggle, not caring that there is no actual hopscotch pattern. I smile at how happy they are, and I try to ignore the faint smell of grilling meat and mini donuts from the nearby food vendors. It’s making me hungry.
“I’m fine. I just miss Bailey.” I pluck an imaginary piece of hay from my tank top so Em doesn’t see the partial lie in my eyes.
I do miss Bailey. That much is true. But I can’t shake the conversation I had earlier with Violet.
“I bet it’s also because you miss a certain someone else.” Emily’s mouth curves into a know-it-all grin.
I know exactly who she’s referring to, and the thought of him makes me go all gooey-warm inside. “Yes, maybe that too. But what Troy and his brothers are doing is important. They’re saving lives.”
Emily adjusts the rim of her straw hat, her two pigtails brushing her bare shoulders. “The good news is, your boyfriend can’t get injured this time.”
“As far as we know. Medically cleared or not, I won’t put it past him to still participate in the actual rescuing.”
“Good point. All the Carson brothers are like that. It’s part of their alpha-gene complex. But it’s also what causes women to flock to them like horny chickens.”
A snorted laugh trips over my lips. “Is that even possible? For chickens to be horny?”
Emily’s grin returns, only wider this time. “Maybe that’s a question for you to ask at the petting zoo.” She raises her hand and waves.
I turn to see who she’s waving at. A woman in denim shorts and a flowery peasant blouse is walking toward us. Her golden hair cascades over her shoulders. There’s something oddly familiar about her, but I can’t place what it is. It’s like I’ve seen her before but at the same time I haven’t.
“Hey, Emily,” the woman says.
“Hi, Theresa. This is Jessica”—Em nods at me—“the photographer I wanted to introduce you to.”
Theresa smiles, the curve of her lips polite and friendly. “It’s nice to meet you, Jessica.”
Emily’s phone pings in her hand, and she quickly checks the screen. “Theresa is a social worker for the county, but she lives in Eugene.”
Social worker. Possibilities churn in my head when I think about her job and Violet. Maybe Theresa could help her. But that would mean betraying Violet’s trust, and I can’t do that. And who’s to say Theresa would even believe me if I told her about Violet’s husband, a man who’s paid to serve and protect but who is abusing his wife?
A warm breeze picks up, brushing my hair into my face. “Not to worry,” I say, tucking it behind my ear. “If you still want to talk, I’m free whenever’s convenient for you, other than when I’m doing my actual day job.”
“Jess works for Troy Carson,” Emily explains. “She’s also his girlfriend.”
A grin as wide as the Pacific Ocean curves onto Theresa’s face. “Ahhh, you’re the mysterious girlfriend who has my sister’s panties in a tangle.”
