Aiden’s pain pill was wearing off.
It was the only thing that would explain his sudden, inexplicable urge to count the number of pale gold freckles scattered across Maddie’s nose.
“I’d better go.” He pushed to his feet, ignoring the pain that bloomed in his knee. Over the weekend, it had dropped from an eight to a seven, so Aiden supposed the physical therapist’s claim that he was slowly improving was accurate. The “slowly” part was, anyway.
He pressed his hip into the back of the chair for balance, not wanting Maddie to know he was paying the price for rejecting her suggestion they move to the more comfortable chairs in the reading nook.
She already knew too much.
Maddie probably thought she’d done a good job hiding her thoughts, but every emotion from shock to disbelief had been reflected in her eyes when Aiden had told her about his parents.
No doubt Maddie had grown up in a stable home, sheltered and loved, while details of his life were the opposite of those feel-good, made-for-cable movies that Sunni liked to watch on the weekends.
Aiden had officially lived with their adoptive mom longer than the woman who’d raised him, but even though the memories had faded, there was no denying the first ten years of his life had formed a thick layer of scar tissue around his heart.
Aiden tried not to dwell on the past, but he hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to take a trip back in time.
He still wasn’t sure he wanted a companion for the journey, either.
Aiden glanced down at Maddie when she followed him into the hallway.
Once again, she was wearing a dress that looked like it had come straight from another time period. Brown might have looked drab on anyone else, but the color set off Maddie’s vivid green eyes while a velvet belt drew attention to her tiny waist. Aiden wondered if the style was a personal preference or standard protocol for librarians, like the way Maddie wore her hair.
He suddenly noticed the bright yellow pencil poking out from the ever-present bun, and he scraped his hand across his jaw to cover a smile.
“We should exchange phone numbers,” he blurted.
Maddie froze midstep. Pivoted to face him. “Why?”
Not the response Aiden usually got when he asked a girl for her number. But then, he didn’t usually blurt the words, either.
“So we can set up another time to get together?”
Maddie frowned.
Again, not the typical response.
She’d claimed research was part of her job. It made sense that Maddie would prefer to meet with him during the library’s regular business hours. Maybe her hesitation was due to the fact that people in Castle Falls had a tendency to get into each other’s business.
“I get it. If we’re seen together during your free time, the rumor mill will have us planning a double wedding with Liam and Anna on Christmas Eve.”
Twin spots of color bloomed in Maddie’s cheeks. “That’s not what… I thought you wanted me to gather information and start the search.”
“I do. But you’re going to need me, too.” Aiden planned to wring as many details out of Brendan as he could. As much as he loved his oldest brother, a tiny sliver of resentment had worked its way under Aiden’s skin when he’d found out Brendan had withheld something so important from him.
Aiden was the youngest in the family, but they were all adults now. He wanted Brendan to see him as an equal, not a child who needed to be protected from the truth.
“Okay.” Maddie drew out the word. “What day of the week will work for you?”
“Other than PT appointments twice a week, my calendar is wide open.” Aiden smiled to prove he was handling the forced inactivity just fine, thank you very much.
“There are a lot of interruptions while I’m here during the day, which is why I schedule meetings with the students after regular business hours.” Maddie nibbled on her lower lip. “I suppose it would be best if we did, too.”
“Give me your phone and I’ll add my number to your contacts. You can text me with a day and time, and I’ll make it work.”
Maddie reached into the pocket of her dress, extracted her cell and reluctantly handed it over. The screensaver photo was a panoramic view of the Grand Canyon.
“Sweet view.” He typed in his name and number. “You’ve been to the Grand Canyon?”
“Yes… I mean, no.” Maddie plucked the phone from his hand.
“So which is it?”
“Both.”
Aiden lifted a brow. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry.” The elusive dimple made an appearance. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
Aiden didn’t have time to dwell on the meaning behind the cryptic statement because Maddie took cover behind the circulation desk.
The not-so-subtle hint was something Aiden did understand.
“Night.” He clumped slowly toward the door, trying not to put too much weight on his bad leg and wincing every time his crutch scraped the surface of the hardwood floor. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Maddie watching, her forehead puckered in concern. “Which way to the bell tower again, mademoiselle?”
Before Maddie could question his reference to The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Aiden ducked his head to hide a grin and let the door snap shut behind him.
* * *
Maddie had taken three laps around the circulation desk before she realized that Aiden Kane had turned her into a…a pacer.
She veered toward the beverage station in the reading nook to brew a cup of lemon tea and spotted a ball of wadded-up paper on the floor. One look at the black roses climbing up the margins, and Maddie knew the artist was Skye.
She collapsed into the closest chair. There were times a cup of tea provided a certain amount of comfort, and then were those moments when a girl knew the only thing that would bring peace was turning to the One who comforted the soul.
Lord, I don’t know Skye very well, but I can tell she’s angry. Hurting.
All three of them were.
Skye, who drew her feelings on the cover of her notebook. Storm clouds and raindrops and flowers that bloomed on chains instead of vines. Tyler’s fists were always clenched, as if he were ready for a fight. Justin, on the other hand, chose to stay underneath the radar, never voicing an opinion or a complaint.
For a fleeting moment, Maddie considered admitting defeat. Why donate several evenings a week to students who seemed to have given up before they’d even started?
Maybe they’re quick to give up because people have given up on them.
The thought struck Maddie square in the heart, and she dropped her forehead to her knees.
Okay, Lord, I’m in. But You’re going to have to help me out. I didn’t relate very well to teenagers even when I was one.
And something told Maddie the outline she usually followed wasn’t going to work this time.
She’d have to think outside the box.
The career assessment survey had been a useful tool in the past, but Maddie suspected the results wouldn’t generate any of the curiosity and enthusiasm she’d seen the teenagers display when Aiden had talked about survival camping.
Maddie admired the way he’d designed his senior project to dovetail with the gifts and unique abilities God had hardwired into him.
A thought so unexpected—and daring—pushed Maddie out of her comfortable chair and onto her feet.
Why couldn’t her three students do the same?
No one had said their meetings had to be confined to the conference room in the library. Instead of thinking outside the box, what if Maddie took them outside the box?
What if…
Maddie’s shoe caught the rug next to the children’s area.
Ack. She’d been pacing again.
Maddie stopped, but thoughts continued to swirl inside her head.
Tyler and Justin and Skye needed more than a passing grade on their senior presentation. They needed to succeed. Needed to feel like they belonged.
Maddie leaned against a bookcase for support as the thoughts converged into one daring—or maybe the word was deranged—idea.
They needed…Aiden.
* * *
Aiden ignored the crosswalk at the end of the block and cut through the middle of the street.
A harvest moon had risen above the trees and cast everything in a pale, shimmery gold that reminded him of Maddie’s hair.
Yup. He definitely needed that pain pill.
Aiden had almost reached The Happy Cow when a squad car rounded the corner. A spotlight on top of the vehicle captured Aiden in its reach.
The driver’s-side window rolled down.
“Aiden Kane?”
“Yes.” Aiden narrowed his eyes, not recognizing either the voice or the face of the man behind the wheel.
“I thought so.” The deputy hopped out of the squad car and extended his hand. “Carter Bristow.”
Underneath the streetlight, Aiden could see the deputy was about Liam’s age, with dark brown hair cropped close to his head and skin stained bronze from the summer sun.
Bristow didn’t look like the kind of guy who whiled away the weekends working on his tan, so Aiden guessed he spent them in a kayak or clinging to the side of a cliff. The guy’s ramrod-straight posture and no-nonsense expression hinted at a few tours in the armed services, too.
“It’s nice to meet you?” Aiden hadn’t meant to pose it in the form of a question, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant an impromptu meet and greet with one of the county’s finest.
The deputy’s gaze raked over him, taking a brief but thorough inventory of Aiden’s injuries.
“Looks like you’re on the mend,” he said. “When I saw the truck, I figured you’d be leaving the scene in a body bag, not on a stretcher.”
Apparently Deputy Carter Bristow didn’t believe in sugarcoating things.
Aiden knew the pickup was totaled, but he hadn’t seen the extent of the damage yet. His brothers had had it towed to the local garage where Frank, Castle Falls’ friendly mechanic, had pronounced it dead on arrival.
Technically, the pickup wasn’t Aiden’s personal vehicle. It belonged to the business, which meant their insurance premiums would go up.
Yet another reason Aiden wanted to prove the accident hadn’t been his fault.
“You were on duty the night of the accident?” Aiden had been told that almost every first responder within a twenty-five-mile radius had shown up at the scene.
“That’s right.”
“I was hoping I would have a chance to thank everyone who showed up that night,” Aiden said. “I don’t remember much after my truck hit the ditch.”
“Is that why you requested a copy of my report?”
“Your report?” Aiden had been on heavy pain meds in the hospital, but he knew this wasn’t the officer who’d taken his statement the next day.
“I was the first officer at the scene.” Bristow gestured toward the squad car. “What do you say we step into my office for a few minutes?”
“Sure.” What else could he say?
And why did he get the feeling the deputy wasn’t happy with him? Was there some kind of protocol Aiden hadn’t followed? Had he crossed some invisible blue line and offended the officer?
Aiden waved to get his future sister-in-law’s attention through the window and held up two fingers.
Anna smiled and held up an ice-cream scoop, meaning he was going to get the rocky road sundae she’d promised him.
Aiden slid into the passenger seat and waited for the deputy to get in.
“So that’s what you were looking for in the report?” Carter turned his radio down. “The names of the people who responded to the scene?”
“No.” Thanks to Sunni, the importance of honesty was ingrained in Aiden, but he still had to push the word out.
“Can I ask what you were looking for?”
“The truth.”
“The truth.” Bristow’s expression didn’t change, but the set of his jaw did.
Okay, that hadn’t come out quite the way Aiden had intended.
This was the deputy who’d done the reconstruction. The one who’d written “no skid marks” at the bottom of the report. If Aiden hadn’t offended the deputy by requesting a copy of the report, he was well on his way if Deputy Bristow thought his integrity as well as his training was being called into question.
“I know you told the truth,” Aiden said. “And it’s not that I doubt your ability to do your job. I asked for a copy of the report because I was hoping there would be something there that backed up my side of the story, too.”
Carter studied him for a moment. “You claimed there was another vehicle involved.”
“There was. A truck came around the corner in my lane—”
“How do you know it was a truck?”
Aiden blinked. How did he know the vehicle barreling toward him had been a truck?
“The lights were shining directly into my eyes,” he said slowly. “If it had been a car, they would have been lower.”
“And you think the driver ran you off the road and then kept going?”
“I know they did. I’m just not sure if it was on purpose.”
Carter’s eyes narrowed. “Even if it wasn’t, you’re talking about a pretty serious crime. And unless an eyewitness, or the perpetrator himself, comes forward, almost impossible to prove.”
“I know everyone believes I took the corner too fast—” Everyone including Aiden’s own brothers. “But I’m not making this up to cover my own mistake—”
“Aiden.” Carter held up his hand, cutting him off midsentence. “I said it would be almost impossible to prove. Not that I don’t believe you.”