The Sheriff's Second Chance - Michelle Celmer Mills & Boon Cherish

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Caitie with Nate was probably the last thing her mom expected on Caitie’s first day back.

      “Hello, Nate,” she said, looking quizzically from him to Caitie. But as Caitie stepped out from behind the car door and her mom saw her disheveled appearance, including the dried blood caked on her knees, she gasped and clasped a hand to her bosom. “What on earth happened to you?”

      Caitie had never been one to resort to sarcasm to make a point, but what the heck. “Nate and I were just getting reacquainted,” she said, smiling when she heard him grumble under his breath.

      He never used to grumble.

      “I’m going to assume that was a joke,” her mom said, though she looked as if she wasn’t sure.

      “See ya, Betty,” Nate said, then narrowed his cop stare on Caitie. “Eight a.m. Don’t forget.”

      Like she could forget that. “Thanks for the ride, Deputy Jefferies.”

      He shot her a look.

      Had he or had he not insisted that she address him by his rank? Now he didn’t like it?

      Nate grumbled something incoherent as he got in the cruiser and drove away. He never used to grumble, and he sure did seem to frown a lot now. Perhaps the serious nature of his profession had jaded him.

      But this was Paradise, where there was barely any crime to be jaded about.

      Caitie turned back to her mom, who stood patiently awaiting an explanation.

      “So,” she asked, looking Caitie up and down. “Rough morning?”

      Feeling exhausted, as if she’d just worked a week of double shifts, when in reality it was barely eleven, Caitie sighed and said, “You have no idea.”

      Chapter Three

      “Let’s get you cleaned up,” her mom said, and Caitie followed her into the house. A pot simmered on the stove, and the scent of spicy tomato sauce hung heavy in the air.

      At least the inside of her parents’ house hadn’t changed much. The furniture was older, the carpet worn in places, but the house was neat as a pin.

      “Maybe you could tell me what really happened,” her mom suggested, lifting the lid and giving the sauce a quick stir. “Like how you hurt your knees.”

      Caitie slumped into a kitchen chair. “You think this is bad, you should see the other guy.”

      Her mom blinked. “Other guy?”

      “I’m kidding. I did this to myself. Literally.”

      “Where is your car? And why did Nate drive you home?”

      “My car is dead in the ditch off the county road just past town. By the Johnsons’ field.”

      “I see.” Her mom grabbed the first-aid kit from the top shelf of the pantry and set it on the counter, pulling out everything she needed. “How did it get into the ditch?”

      “I pushed it there.” Her mom’s brows lifted in surprise, and Caitie quickly added, “And, no, I did not do it on purpose. It died in the middle of the intersection. I was trying to move it out of the way.”

      Caitie gave her mom the short version of what had happened while she cleaned her knees. She was kind enough not to laugh, but she did crack a smile when Caitie described watching helplessly as the car plunged into the ditch.

      “Why did you leave the diner?” her mom asked.

      “To give you the—” Caitie closed her eyes and groaned. She’d left the damned folder in the backseat of Nate’s cruiser.

      Really? All that for nothing.

      “The what?” her mom asked, soaking a cotton ball with antiseptic.

      “The papers dad sent home.”

      She looked confused. “Papers?”

      Caitie sucked in a breath as her mom dabbed her knees and the antiseptic burned her raw skin. “From the restaurant. Didn’t he call you?”

      She was quiet for a second, as if she was trying to recall. “Oh, right. Those papers. He must have forgotten to call.”

      “Well, I left them in Nathan’s car by accident.”

      “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing urgent.” She swabbed antibiotic ointment on the scratches, then smoothed a large bandage over each knee. “There you go. Good as new. More or less.”

      “Thanks, Mom.”

      “Be sure to take the bandages off when the bleeding stops. The more air the scrapes get, the faster they’ll heal.”

      “I’ll take them off tonight before bed.” She stood, wincing when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass on the side door. “I’m a mess. I need to put a clean uniform on before I go back to the diner. I’m sure glad those things still fit me.” They were even a bit loose on her. Thanks to the stress of being unemployed, she hadn’t had much of an appetite lately.

      “You don’t have to go back,” her mom said. “Deb is feeling better so she’ll finish out her shift.”

      Confused, Caitie asked her, “How do you know that?”

      “Your father told me, of course.”

      “Dad called?”

      “Yes, after you left the restaurant.”

      Huh? “Mom, a minute ago you said that he didn’t call.”

      She blinked. “No, I didn’t.”

      “Yes, you did. You said that he must have forgotten to call.”

      Her mom sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s this darned migraine medicine. It makes me loopy sometimes. What I meant was, he forgot to tell me about the papers. But, yes, he did call.”

      That must have been some powerful stuff she was taking. “So, I’m off the hook?”

      “Yes, he’s all set for the day shift.”

      As much as she wanted to help her parents, she was relieved. It was too much too soon. “I do have a few errands to run. Although I no longer have a car to run them with.”

      Her mom tucked the first-aid kit back into the pantry. “Take my car—I won’t be using it.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “But only if you promise to bring home a gallon of milk. We ran out last night.”

      At first she thought her mom was kidding, since she had been the one to send Caitie out that morning. “Mom, you know I got the milk already.”

      “You did?”

      This was no joke. Her blank expression said she had no idea what Caitie was talking about. “Remember, I forgot the diner key, and it was so early everything in town was still closed, so I had to drive all the way to the twenty-four-hour store at the service station on the highway.”

      With a frown her mom pulled the fridge open, and there on the shelf sat the gallon of 2 percent milk. “Darned medication,” she muttered. “I would lose a limb if they weren’t all sewn on.”

      “Do they have any idea what’s causing you to have so many headaches?”

      “It could be a hormone imbalance, since it seems to coincide with menopause.”

      “Have you thought to try homeopathic remedies? Holistic medicine? Maybe you could try cutting processed foods from your diet. Or gluten.”

      “I’ll definitely consider that,” she said, though to Caitie it sounded as if her mom was humoring her.

      Her mom walked to the stove and lifted the lid off the pan, giving the sauce another stir. She

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