Sierra Falls (Sierra Falls #1)

“Thank God.”

“You don’t miss it?”

He wasn’t even sure what that meant, miss it. It was so much more complicated than that. Of course he missed it. Just as he never wanted to go back. He avoided the question. “I’m happy putting myself out to pasture.”

She laughed. “You’re hardly ancient.”

He sighed. Some days he felt it. Billy sat there, waiting for the familiar weariness to swamp him again. Only this time it didn’t. Catching a glimpse of her sneakers on his dash, smelling her sunshine scent, he had to admit, this was not one of those days.

Twenty-three

Sully kept one eye on the kitchen as the men carted away the old freezer and rolled in the new. The appliance guys worked fast, hooking up the water line and electricity, and rolling that big beast into place.

He occupied himself with busy work, because he didn’t really need to be there. Not with Billy Preston there supervising things. Sully leaned on the pass-through for a glimpse.

Billy and Sorrow were in the kitchen, but it was Billy who’d asked the men to sweep away their trash before pushing the freezer into place. Billy who’d told them not to ding the door. Finally, it seemed there was someone else around the place looking out for Sorrow.

Sully eyed the sheriff—he sure was hanging around a whole helluva lot lately. He had to admit he liked the guy. As former military himself, Sully understood a man who’d chosen a uniform as his vocation. Respected him.

It put him in mind of Damien, who had yet to command Sully’s respect. His uniform was a pair of khakis and a button-up shirt, and Sully had always thought Sorrow could do better.

The door swung, catching Sully’s eye. The installation guys were headed out. “You’re all set,” one of them told him. “Give a call if there’s any trouble.”

Sully nodded his thanks. Curious about the new freezer—and, he hated to admit, excited, too—he went into the kitchen to check it out.

But Sorrow and Billy were already checking it out, and they were standing close. Real close. Though they didn’t look like they might kiss, they were speaking quietly, like two people who’d definitely thought about it.

Sully cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

They hadn’t even been touching, but Sorrow and Billy sprang apart like they were two magnets with opposite poles.

Unsure what to do, he snatched a rag from the counter, turned on his heel, and headed right back out. It’d been an adolescent maneuver, but he’d needed to do something. Those two were close and looked like they were thinking about getting closer. Better for Sully to feel like a moron than catch Sorrow and Billy in a lip-lock.

Especially when one of them had a boyfriend. He was surprised they hadn’t broken up yet, though lately Damien had been making himself scarce, almost like the guy knew something was up. The sheriff, meanwhile, seemed to be there every time Sully turned around, and from what he just saw in the kitchen, it looked like where there was smoke there was fire.

Well, hot damn. He let the notion sit for a bit. The sheriff was older than Sorrow—he better not be taking any advantage. Sully considered the possibility, then dismissed it just as fast. Billy Preston struck him as a good man. A widower—not the type to be dallying with girls’ affections. Quite the contrary—Billy would be serious, with serious intentions.

And what exactly were those intentions? Sorrow deserved to have someone in her life who wanted to ask just that. He didn’t trust Bear with the task—the man wouldn’t know subtle if his life depended on it. No, it’d be up to him to ask what Billy had in mind where Sorrow was concerned.

It wasn’t long before he got the chance. Sully heard the phone ring, and Sorrow strode out of the tavern not a minute later. Billy stood at the door, shouldering into his coat.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Sully called. “You got a second?”

With a curt nod, Billy hung his coat back on the hook. “Sure thing.” His look was quizzical as he joined him in a booth.

“Sorrow head out?” he asked, unsure where he was going with all this or how to begin.

“Some emergency at the lodge.” Billy noticed his concern and added, “Nothing major. I get the impression that a light’s out and Bear can’t find the bulbs.”

Sully let out a belly laugh, relieved it wasn’t something more. “Good thing he’s got Sorrow around. If it weren’t for her, the man would probably just sit in the dark and bitch about it.”

Billy chuckled, adding, “Probably gripe about how it was her fault.”

“Something like that.” The irreverent talk had broken the ice, and there was a moment’s comfortable silence.

Sully took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I’ve known Sorrow since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. She was a good kid, and she’s grown into a good woman.” He looked Billy in the eye—it’d be cowardly to do anything but. “You’re a lawman, and I respect you, but I’ve got to ask…” He faltered. He didn’t have kids, and definitely no experience with daughters. He could command a battalion of soldiers hailing from every background, every race, every walk of life. But this? He was no good at this overprotective thing.

“What my intentions are?”

Sully let out that breath. “Yeah. That’s the one. I’d like to know what your intentions are.”

It was Billy’s turn to falter. “She has a boyfriend,” he answered finally, and though his words said one thing, his eyes told quite another story.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t like her.”

Billy nodded, hesitated. “Sorrow is special.”

“You have feelings for her.”

Billy nodded. Looked down at his hands on the table. There was something else.

“But there’s something else, isn’t there?” Sully prompted.

When Billy looked back up, his gaze was distant. “It’s more than just the boyfriend.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I’m a broken man, Sully.”

“Don’t seem broken to me.”

“All right, not broken, but…my wife, Keri. I can’t seem to forget her.”

Sully had some experience on that front. Not with women, no. But he was haunted by faces—dozens of them—young men who’d died while he lived. “I don’t know that we ever forget the past. Just so long as we keep moving forward.”

They sat with that thought a moment. Billy looked like he needed to say more, so Sully just waited for his words to come.

Eventually they did. “Keri cast a long shadow,” Billy began. “She was powerful. A lawyer in the DA’s office. And man, could that woman make the most hardened felons quake.” He smiled at the memory. “She was something else. Never would I have cheated on her.” He laughed then. “Hell, I was afraid to disagree with her.”

The smile bled from his face, and he leaned his elbows on the table, struggling to put words to his feelings. “It isn’t just moving on that’s hard. The feeling that I’m somehow breaking my vows if I look at another woman. It’s that I was a different person when I married her. That man is long gone. And that feels like a betrayal, too.”

“Men change.” As Sully said it, he wondered if it was time to make some changes himself. But he pushed the notion away to focus on the man across from him. “You’ve got to keep going. Experiencing new things. That’s how you honor her memory—by living your life. Otherwise you might as well have died with her. Something like that—losing your wife so young—it’ll make you different. You’ll live different, and you’ll love different, too.”

“I am different,” Billy said. “There’s a quiet inside me that I didn’t have when I was with Keri. Like peace. My whole life, I didn’t realize it’d been lacking. Until I came here and met Sorrow.”

Sully knew a little something about that. “I think some folks call that wisdom.”

“Maybe so.” Billy shrugged. “All I know is that, for the first time in a long time, I feel like there might be things out there I could look forward to. And it’s because of her. Sorrow. When I’m with her, I just feel…happy.” He’d spoken the word as though he’d never said it before. But then a dark glint flashed in his eyes. “And I feel a whole hell of a lot more than that, too, obviously.”

Sully recognized that glint. He growled, “I’ll have to caution you there, son.”

Billy laughed. “Understood.” He leaned back in his seat, looking lighter. More at ease. “You ever lost anyone, Tom?”

Sully blew out a sigh. Why hadn’t he poured them something to drink first?

“I’ve known loss,” he said carefully. “Not a wife, though. Not that. But they were losses just the same. I felt a lot of guilt when I stepped off that plane back in ’72. Coming home when so many didn’t. But those boys, my friends, they’d have wanted me to live. They’d have kicked my ass if they thought I’d given up on my own life. Strong woman like your Keri? I imagine she’d do the same.”

“Kick my ass from the great beyond?”

“You bet,” Sully said, but then it was his turn to go quiet. He sure was free with the advice—advice he should consider taking himself. Because what he was doing—flipping Bear’s burgers day in and day out—that wasn’t exactly taking life by the horns. It was time he made a change. Time he did a little living himself, maybe ask Marlene out on a proper date.

“It’s time to let go and give in to your feelings,” Sully said, but then he paused as it hit him. Those words applied to himself as much as to Billy. He nodded, clear now on his own feelings. Billy was lucky—the guy was a kid in comparison, with another lifetime ahead of him. “You’ll never lose the grief,” Sully added, “but you’re young yet. You can move through it. It’s no dishonor to your Keri if you move on with your life.”