The alternative

     After Margaret got what she wanted to eat, Dillon packed up the leftovers to take to Pastor Sam. He would make sure it went to where the greatest need was. Most likely Coal Town. 

     As he worked, he thought about what he had just said to his officers, ‘think about the alternative’. There was a time in his life when Dillon would have welcomed ‘the alternative’. How many times had he pulled a car over and prayed today would be the day? How many times had he been directly in the line of fire, hoping for that one not so random event? It seemed hypocritical of him to want his deputies to be safe when.. His thoughts trailed to Evie. 

     Bradley cut through his silence by shutting the door as he walked back into the meeting room. “Sheriff, we all know Jack. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit for Jack to blow his head off. That’s his girl. His only baby. With Lily being gone, he has nothing to loose.”

     Dillon sat in one of the chairs, “I know. When Jack first approached me about Evie,” he cleared his throat; “Evelyn coming home, he said as much.”

     “What did he say?” Bradley sat down as well. 

     “That he was an old man. He had lived a good life. Knew God and was ready to die.”

     “Why have you been packin’ this around by yourself?” Dillon just stared at Bradley, not knowing what to say. “I know you are my boss. But outside of this place, you are my best friend. What would I be if it hadn’t been for you?” Dillon stared at the floor. “There isn’t an employee here that wouldn’t jump through hell fire if you were in danger. And you are in danger.”

     “We all are. Just by the fact that she lives here, we all are.”

     “May I speak plainly?”

     Dillon smiled, “if you don’t I’ll lock you up.”

     “You are in love. So much so, you bought a smart phone.” Bradley laughed. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m beyond thrilled that you are. This fact puts you closer to the situation than the rest of us. 

     They sat in silence as Dillon thought about what Bradley just said. ‘Was he’? He said it out loud as an after thought, “am I?”

     Bradley blushed, “you are. The two of you were thick as thieves growing up. I may have been behind you in school, but everyone just knew the 2 of you would get married. I (for one) was shocked when she left.” He paused, waiting to see if Dillon would speak. When he didn’t, “I was secretly praying she would stay when she came back for your dad’s funeral. But she’s back. She’s here now.”

     “What’s the talk around the water cooler?”

     “You know they’re not gonna talk to me.” Bradley smiled and puffed out his chest, “I’m the sheriff’s little bitch.”

     They both laughed, “well then, get to work bitch.”

The briefing

     Dillon had called everyone in at 6:30 in the morning. Night shift was getting ready to leave and day shift was coming in. The coffee was hot and strong. Patty had made sausage biscuits for Bradley to bring. Dillon ordered extra food from Della. Margaret was tending to the phones so that Tiny and Martha could attend. Bradley started with a prayer as everyone got some food. 

     Once everyone was eating, Dillon popped up a picture on the white board. The picture was of a man. Pitch black hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Glittering white teeth. A smile that would stop traffic. A chiseled jaw line, so sharp it might cut paper. Topped off with a spotless cream complexion. 

     Tiny broke the silence with a low growl, “hot damn.”

     She blushed as the room erupted with laughter. 

     “He is a fine looking man.” Dillon commented from the back of the room. “Douglas “Doug” Greenroll, remember this face.” They reviewed what he might look like with different eye colors, hair colors and styles, even a spray tan. “This man does not respect you. He does not respect your badge. He will hurt you to get to his primary objective.” Dillon walked from the back of the room. “He is currently in jail for shooting a cop.”

     “How do we know he’s coming here, sheriff?” Tolliver asked. 

     Tiny asked, “sheriff, what is his primary objective?”

     Dillon stared at Bradley for a moment before he spoke. He almost called her Evie but thought better of it. “Evelyn Rice. Mr. Greenroll is her ex-husband.” Tiny choaked. “We may get no advance warning that he has been released. The officer he shot, thankfully lived.” He lowered his head for a moment. Knowing he should but couldn’t drag Evie any farther into this than he had too. “I cannot stress to you how dangerous this man is. He has the means to have any weapon money can buy. He will hurt you to get to her. This does not leave this room. Ms. Rice has been through enough and sadly will be put through more before we can get him.”

     “Did she come here to escape him?” Clint asked.

     “No. She came here to live. She’s from here.” 

     “So Jack Rice really is her dad. My parents have spoken about him but I wasn’t sure.” 

     “Yes, he is.”

     “Sheriff, have we given any thought to the idea he might hurt her dad?” Bradley voiced with concern.

     “We believe he will only hurt the people that are directly in front of her. If you are the officer responding to the call. If her dad just happens to be at her house.”

     The room was silent. 

     “I can’t stress to you how dangerous domestic situations are. You know this. Don’t approach him alone. Don’t forget your training. And above all don’t get killed.”

     Bradley shuffled his feet, “that goes for you to sheriff.”

     “Some of us,” Dillon cleared his throat. “Have gotten lax about wearing our vests. We really need to get back in the habit.”

     There was a muffled groan, “they are hot and heavy.” Clint said what several were thinking. 

     “I know. But think about the alternative.”

Little Piano

     Before the summer sun got too hot, Dillon took Evie to the other barn. The one he’d gotten hurt in playin’ as a child. 

     Evie gasped, “this is the barn.”

     He blushed, “yelp.”

     She skipped through the hay. “We had just watch some of the Olympics and thought it would be cool to swing from the rafters. Like the gymnast.”

     “It was fun.”

     “Until you got hurt.”

     He raised an eyebrow, smiling. 

     She raised an old dusty tarp. Under it was a little piano, “Dillon, does it work?” 

     He tickled the ivory. “Out of tune but it works. You want it?”

     “I can’t play.”

     “Maybe the local sheriff will stop by from time to time and play.”

     “I’d like that.”

     She picked out the piano, a bed frame, dresser, a stand along mirror. Dillon encouraged her to take what she wanted. In the attic of the house was a daybed. And what may have been a cut off table. A children’s table for larger holiday meals. It had 4 chairs and it was a little shorter than a standard dining room table, she loved it. “I feel like a little kid.” She gushed. “When you share a meal with me, will this be uncomfortable?”

     He sat at the table, “as long as I don’t stay seated all day.”

     She shrugged her shoulders and giggled. “I know what I’ll be doing tomorrow.”

The Ledbetter’s

     Rebecca’s first reaction was no. But Simon was all smiles and excepted the offer for both of them. Which got him a dirty sideways glance. 

     “I’ll holler at you when it’s ready.” Dillon offered. 

     Once alone in the barn she scolded, “what is wrong with you?” 

     “Nothing. Being polite.”

     Dillon and Evie had set everything up on the back porch. A ceiling fan was running. The heat of the summer day hadn’t cut over the hill behind his house, outside still felt nice. 

     There was an iced tray in the middle of the table with milk, orange juice, and tomato juice?

     Evie offered Rebecca the tomato juice. “I don’t drink.” She blushed. 

     Evie smiled, “neither do I. Forgive me, I should have told you; milk, orange juice and vegetable juice.”

     The overall silence was killing Simon, “how does it feel to be back home?” 

     “It’s a mixed bag. But I get to be closer to dad if something happens.” Evie answered.

     Dillon watched Evie eat for a moment, she just nibbled. Why? What was with the nibbling? What had that bastard done to her?

     Rebecca blurted out, “sheriff, what do I need to do to get out of a speeding ticket?”

     Dillon looked up from his plate, “speedin’ ticket?”

     She blushed, I was runnin’ late for work and got a ticket on Mill Street right before that turn onto School Street.”

     “My office doesn’t do that. You will have to take it up with the judge when you go to court.”

     “I have to go to court?” She squeaked. 

     “You can come to the office and pay it out right, mail it in, pay over the phone, or you can go to court and fight it.”

     “I have to take a day off work? I can’t just take a class or something? Forgive it altogether?”

     “That’s up to the judge. We just write’em.”

      “What if it was your mom?”

     “That is why it’s set up this way. There is no need for my deputies gettin’ divorced over a speeding ticket. We don’t and won’t be part of that.”

     Simon changed the subject. They chatted about the weather, Teka, and Sunday dinners. 

     “I assume you will be taking some?” Rebecca asked while looking at Evie. 

    Evie glanced at Dillon, “have you ever hosted one?”

     “No, I work so that the others may if they want too.”

     Rebecca scoffed in her mind, easy way out.

     “Who do I talk to?” Evie turned her attention back toward Rebecca. 

     “Della.”

     “I’ll look into that.”

     Dillon and Evie were cleaning up the kitchen, “well,” Evie sighed. “That was awkward.”

     “That’s being polite.”

     “Does she not like us?”

     Dillon was shocked. “I don’t know her. When I put the roof on your home place, that was the first time I ever met her, officially. Jack hired Simon. He’s a handyman.” He paused, “why wouldn’t she like you?”

     “No clue. But I get the impression she doesn’t like one or both of us.”

Choices

     Dillon lay in his bed listening to the fan run. Had he made the right choice? Givin’ Evie the letters? Suddenly he felt exposed. Worse than being naked at a wedding. Everyone in fine tailored suits while he was trying to hide behind a champagne flute. Would she hate him forever? Try as he might he still felt the same way. He still loved her. 

     She was amazing even back then. He knew Doug hadn’t taken it away from her. Would she be able to find it? Would she let him help her? 

     When Saturday rolled around, he knew in his heart that she was upset. She hadn’t talked to him in 4 days. Four agonizing days worrying if she was hurt, mad, sad, all the emotions. 

     He remembered she had said, ‘call me’. If he called, would she eat breakfast with him?  Would she cus him? Would she… He trailed off his thoughts when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Evie. Tag line was Evie wishes to share. She was sharing with him her calendar. There was a app he could download, link his calendar to it if he wanted. Her calendar was filling up fast. From what he saw, appointments with her were typically an hour. A few of her clients had booked 2. Today, Saturday, she had one thing scheduled: Dillon.

     His heart jumped out of his chest and he called her immediately. 

     “I would like to fix you breakfast. So you don’t have to backtrack, may I cook at your house?”

     “You can do anything you want.” It flew out of his mouth before he’d even thought about a response. There it was. 

     “Be there in 15.”

     He was looking down at his phone, when he heard a door shut. Followed by another one. A look out the window showed him Simon was there to care for Teka. And he brought Rebecca. Had he always brought his wife and never told anyone? In that moment, Dillon didn’t like that. 

     He quickly shot Evie a text asking if she had enough for 4 people? She sent him a thumbs up. He would ask the Ledbetter’s to join them.