A Daughter's Redemption. Georgiana Daniels

she and Ginger had shared with chocolate on their cheeks, shirts caked in powder from the donuts. “You bet I will.”

      A few moments passed. Ginger shifted awkwardly on the bench until she finally spoke. “I felt awful when I heard about your dad. This town isn’t the same without him.” She clutched her chest. “The whole situation is unbelievable. And the fact that the kid who did it walked away with minor injuries... I’m just glad the case will be a slam dunk.”

      Robyn’s chest pounded in time with a low rumble of thunder. “It’s hard to think about it. I keep imagining the worst.”

      “I won’t pretend I understand what you’re going through, but try to remember that your dad’s at peace now.” Ginger patted Robyn’s hand again, and shook her head slowly. “But I still can’t believe they didn’t fire the cop.”

      “Cop?” She sat straighter and searched her memory for any mention of a police officer. “What am I missing? What are you talking about?”

      “The cop who was involved.” Ginger pulled an umbrella out of her leather tote. “I don’t know the details, but the whole town is in an uproar. I’ve never seen people take sides like this.”

      Robyn swiped away the first drops of rain that fell like pinpricks from the sky. “Back up a second. I thought a teenage driver hit my dad. No one mentioned an officer.”

      Ginger’s eyes rounded, and she opened her umbrella with a snap. “Oh, no. Maybe— I don’t want to be the one to say. And of course, all my information is secondhand. Like I said, I was out of town when it happened.”

      “Please, tell me what you know.” She fingered the cross on her necklace. Maybe it was better not to hear the details.

      “It was a chase. From what I heard, the kid ran a stoplight, and a cop tried to pull him over. When the car refused to stop, the cop followed him through town, rather than letting him go. The kid was trying to outrun the police when he swerved and—” Ginger winced “—people are saying the officer violated a no-pursuit policy the department has.”

      Robyn’s stomach clamped. Her mouth dried, and her erratic heartbeat drowned out the thunder. She licked her lips, taking a moment to order her thoughts. “Do you mean to tell me the whole thing was preventable?”

      Ginger’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Some people think it was and that the kid wouldn’t have spun out of control if he wasn’t being chased.”

      “Tell me what else you’ve heard.” Robyn grasped Ginger’s arm.

      “I guess the officer is on suspension.”

      “Someone has to hold him accountable. You’re sure he wasn’t fired?”

      “I’m sure he will be. Or...I don’t know. I’ve been out of town so much I haven’t heard the details.”

      Robyn stood and slung her purse over her shoulder, ignoring the fat drops of rain that pelted her skin. “It looks like I have a few questions that need to be answered. Whatever it takes, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

      * * *

      Spending time with Robyn had been worse than Caleb imagined. Way worse. More than once he’d found himself smiling and engaging in conversation before he remembered why he couldn’t. His relief was palpable when she left for town—until Phil showed up and tried to take him to lunch.

      “I have to finish cutting these boards before it rains. I don’t have time to stop.” He glanced toward a cabin, remembering Robyn’s contagious grin when they’d walked the grounds.

      “Since you’re working like a madman, I assume you told her.”

      Caleb remained silent.

      “Wait, you mean you haven’t said anything yet?” Phil’s question hit like a sucker punch.

      “I’m trying to keep to myself.” He was failing miserably, but trying. He focused on a squirrel scampering up a nearby pine tree.

      “Just get it out in the open. I’m telling you, if it wasn’t for—you know—I think you would hit it off. She’s cute.”

      Cute was an understatement Caleb wasn’t willing to acknowledge. “That was a low blow.” He slid his protective goggles over his eyes and powered up the circular saw.

      “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Phil’s voice cut over the grating whine of the blade.

      Caleb powered down. “I don’t want to talk about her—or any of this. Everything was fine when I was here alone, but this is getting ridiculous.”

      “So stop.”

      It sounded simple enough, but he had a promise to keep. A little hammering and painting was the least he could do, and he wasn’t about to give it up, though it didn’t minimize the stress of dealing with Dan’s daughter. If the situation were different, he might actually enjoy her company and the seemingly endless stream of friendly conversation. The interest sparkling in her eyes that he knew he had no right to return. The more time they spent together, the tighter he had to guard himself—at least until he devised a way to reveal the truth.

      Phil pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Forget all this for a while. Let’s grab some lunch.”

      “You should’ve called first.”

      “I tried. You didn’t answer.”

      “Leave a message.”

      “I’ve left three. Look, man, you can’t hide out forever. People don’t hate you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

      “I never said that, but let’s be honest. People in town are getting pretty ugly.” Caleb fixed his eyes on the pile of lumber at his feet. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a porch to rebuild. I have to keep busy until the review board hearing. You have no idea what it’s like to have your job and your reputation hanging in the balance.” It was a crushing weight that never left him room to breathe or the freedom to rest. The review board’s recommendation to the chief would determine his future.

      “Working yourself to death isn’t going to make time speed up. Maybe what you need is to forgive yourself.” Phil checked his cell phone. “There’s still time to grab a bite to eat before my next appointment. Come on. It’ll do you good, and it wouldn’t hurt your cause to be seen out and about. Let people see that you have nothing to hide.”

      “I don’t have anything to hide. And I don’t want to keep my job based on PR moves that came from my lawyer friend.” Caleb removed the goggles from his head. He worked the elastic with nervous fingers. “My career means everything to me. I have to keep it based on merit, based on the review board’s belief I did the right thing. Any other reason isn’t good enough.” Not for him and not for his father’s memory.

      “It’s all about perception.” Phil gestured with his hands. “Face it, doing work out here makes you look bad. Like you believe you were wrong.”

      “I don’t care what it looks like. I’m here because I promised Dan I’d do everything in my power to help. I couldn’t do it at the scene—” he choked down the familiar knot in his throat “—so I’m doing it here.”

      Phil leaned against the sawhorse Caleb set up in the clearing between the cabins. “I’m telling you what the perception is. It’s important that you know. Now come to town with me.”

      “Lunch won’t solve anything.” It wouldn’t help him forget his career was in jeopardy. Or forget Robyn’s hopeful smile when she offered him coffee—the only thing she’d found in the cupboard. No, stopping long enough to eat was a bad idea.

      “Will I at least see you at church this week?”

      A vise gripped Caleb’s stomach. For the past few Sundays, he’d done his best to keep a comfortable distance from the church—and Dan’s friends inside of it. “Maybe.”