November was in full swing and Marsh was deep in preparation for the basketball season. The first game was next weekend and he knew his team could win.
Rex, Marsh’s assistant coach, had his own ideas about which students should start and which plays to run. Though his ideas were often good, Marsh and Rex occasionally bumped heads, which was one more frustration Marsh didn’t need. His increasingly hectic schedule made seeing Karissa difficult, stalling his relationship with her. It didn’t help that she had gone out of her way to keep her distance since their kiss.
He fixed a cup of hot chocolate and took it out onto the porch to watch the stars. His house had passed the century mark, one of the oldest in town, and was badly in need of repair. He had bought it only a few months earlier and began work in the living room. It now sported a fresh coat of paint, new moldings, and the ceiling had fresh sheetrock to replace the water-damaged stuff that had been there when he bought the place. It was not textured and painted, but progress was still progress. Replacing the carpet was also on his to-do list.
Marsh figured it would take the rest of his life to fix the place right, especially since the minute basketball season was over, he had to start up with softball. Then again, if things didn’t eventually turn around with Karissa, it may not matter if progress on the house was slow.
Though he loved his job, the teaching, the coaching, interacting with students, he looked forward to the long summer months when his time was his own. He was already thinking of the projects he would work on the next summer.
Hank’s white pickup pulled up beside Marsh’s beat up double-cab and Marsh stood, waving a greeting. “I could use some company,” he said when Hank got close enough to hear.
Hank looked at the sagging front porch and faded paint on the house. “You could use more than company.”
“Just wait until the Ledbetters decide to move and you get stuck with their heap.” Marsh indicated the house next door, the one Hank had salivated over since high school. It was in worse shape than his own.
Hank smiled and looked at the snow-covered, overgrown yard; the fence was in desperate need of a new paint job, much like the house itself. “I’m looking forward to it. You haven’t heard anything lately?”
“Nope. For all I know, they could stay another decade. Sure you don’t want to buy something else, something that’s actually for sale?” He had to razz Hank a little; the fixation on that house was too funny not to.
“Nope. That’s it. I’m in no hurry, and my down payment gets bigger every month.” He looked pleased about that.
Marsh led Hank inside and pulled out an extra mug, setting it on the table beside the open tin of cocoa. “It’s getting cold out there.”
“Yeah, seems to be. Snow is making a mess of the dirt roads.” Hank stirred the powder into his hot water. “I got an e-mail from Bo today. He’s doing great, having a terrific time—burning up in the day, biting flies, scads of rats everywhere. He sent over some pictures of a desert sand storm. You know that scene in Stargate when the storm blows in like a big tidal wave? That’s what it looks like.”
“Yeah? That sounds wicked.”
“You’re telling me. I’ll forward them on to you.”
“Good.” Marsh finished his drink and got up to rinse his cup. “How’s Karissa doing?”
“She’s good. Been managing everything, somehow.” Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The strain of trying to keep Mom from overdoing it is getting to her. It’s getting to Mom too; she’s going crazy. She’s not been doing great this week, but Karissa has stepped up and taken over everything in the house.”
Marsh stared out the window and smiled. He could see it when he was over there. Karissa was by turns sweet and bossy. She ended up with kitchen duty most nights. Paul was thriving on the farm, with all of the love from Grandma and Grandpa, and uncles Hank and Marsh.
Of course, "uncle" wasn’t what Marsh had as his ultimate goal for their relationship, but he could afford to be patient. It had taken this many years for him to get a shot with Karissa, and though progress was slow, he was starting to think maybe he was seeing it. When she’d told him to drop dead a few mornings earlier, there had hardly been any heat in the words, though there had been plenty in her cheeks. He shouldn’t have teased her about the kiss but couldn’t help angling for another one.
“You don’t seem to be getting anywhere fast,” Hank said.
“She’s not ready for it. She’s struggling. But she’s softening toward me.” A package of Oreos sat open on the table, and he helped himself to a couple, then offered it to Hank, who took a few as well. “What’s your take?”
“I can’t figure it out. She seems to have settled into her routine, but the tension isn’t going away, the desperate need to prove herself.”
“She was always like that,” Marsh said, though he knew what Hank meant. This was something more.
Hank shook his head. “Not like she is now. I don’t get it. Sure Dennis was a jerk, of the grade-A variety, but I expected her to recover faster.”
“Everyone does things at their own speed.” Marsh considered their recent encounter. “Maybe I’m waiting too long.” He’d always had a thing for Karissa Carver, for as long as he could remember—way before liking girls was okay. In high school he had dated here and there, had a girlfriend or two, but he had wanted to date the underage Karissa. Her daddy’s shotgun was no longer an obstacle, but now he was pussyfooting his way around her, trying to move her from defensive to friendly. Was he moving too slow? Giving her too much time to grow hard and bitter instead of recovering?
“Too long?” Hank asked. “I’d think she needs more time. That was a pretty big blow she had with Dennis.”
“Too big. Too powerful. I’m afraid she’s shutting herself off, blocking people out. I’m going to have to make a move soon. I just have to get her to start thinking of me as more than your friend.”
“How are you going to do that?” Hank looked amused.
Marsh smiled as an idea formed. “Leave that to me.”
***
Karissa burrowed deeper into her coat as she left the jail the next morning. It was dark and the night sky was full of stars, the moon just sinking below the mountains. She pulled the hood up over her head to stay warmer. Another Friday, another weekend without her son. Karissa fought back the inner chill that seemed to attack at the thought.
She was still ten yards from her car when a nearby truck door opened and a man stepped out. Tensing, Karissa turned to look at the occupant and sighed in relief when she saw it was just Marsh. “What are you doing up at this hour?” she asked as he approached her.
“I couldn’t sleep anymore. I thought maybe you could use some breakfast.” He took her by the arm and redirected her toward his vehicle.
“I could use some sleep.” She tugged on her arm, but though he wasn’t hurting her, his grip was secure. “There’s nowhere to get breakfast at this hour anyway. Not unless you plan to take me to your place.”
He turned and smiled at her, lifted an eyebrow. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
She fought the part of her that was charmed by his smile. “I need to get home. I have a lot to do today.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not taking you anywhere. I just ran to the convenience store for pastries and picked extra up for you. They’re in the car, and you’re welcome to eat and run if you like.” She sent him a long-suffering look and he smiled. “Look, let’s try this again, shall we? I’m sorry I was such a pain when we were kids. Do you think we could call a truce? I have apple turnovers. I remember that they’re your favorite. We could start over, clean slate.”
She was surprised Marsh remembered. How did he remember something like that all of these years later, she wondered, then pushed the thought aside. She gave him a thorough, dissecting look, then decided he looked sincere. That was a thought she wasn’t sure what to do with. She nodded. “Okay, I can accept a truce.”
His grin widened and he opened the passenger door. “Another bonus is the fact that it’s warm in here.”
She climbed into the truck and he shut the door behind her, then came around to the driver’s side. Karissa could already smell the heady fragrance of pastries and see the two cups of something sitting in the console between the seats. “You were pretty sure of yourself,” she said when he settled in the driver’s side.
“Confidence has its advantages. Besides, if you refused, I could always eat the extras later.” He dug into the sack and pulled out a turnover wrapped in bakery paper, handed it to her, then dug in again for himself. “The cups are hot chocolate.”
“Perfect.” She lifted the one closest to her and took a careful sip of the drink, then smiled when it didn’t scorch her mouth. “You cooled it down.”
“Yeah, I don’t like burned tongues much. I seem to remember that you don’t either.”
She felt her brow furrow as she wondered how he remembered that.
They munched on their breakfast, and he pulled out bananas to finish off. “How long have you worked dispatch?”
“Since a little before Paul was born. Dennis and I were both street cops but decided it was a little dangerous to have both of us on the beat when we had a child.” She remembered their conversation about it when she suggested she apply for dispatch instead. “Or at least, I felt that way. I don’t know that Dennis cared either way. As long as the money kept coming in.” She pressed her lips together to keep from saying any more. It was still a painful spot for her.
“Don’t get me wrong, I know officers don’t make a huge amount,” Marsh said, “but it wasn’t like you lived lavishly, if your car and stuff was any indication. Couldn’t you have afforded to stay home with Paul? You had both been working a couple of years.”
A twinge of irritation slipped into Karissa’s chest, but she pushed it away; this was a truce, and she could be nominally honest with him, in any case. “He had student loans. I had a small one myself, but I was serious about paying them off as fast as possible, and I started saving for a house. Just before Paul was born, Dennis’s car broke down and he had to have a new one.” The thought still steamed her. “I don’t mean a new-to-him car. I mean new off the lot. He didn’t even ask, he just took the savings and used it as a down payment, then signed on a huge monthly payment. That required me to keep working and kept us in that little apartment.” She laughed but felt no amusement. “The car was paid off the month he moved out. And then there were the credit cards he racked up. I’m not saying he was a major spendthrift, but we could have been more sensible.”
“Fifty or a hundred dollars extra a month adds up quickly.” Marsh nodded in understanding.
“Yeah. And I got stuck with half of the credit cards, and he got to keep his pricey SUV.”
“Sounds like you should’ve gotten a better lawyer.”
Karissa smiled for real this time. “Oh, his child support payments are covering all of Paul’s expenses and a little extra. I’ll have the rest of the bills out of the way within a year. When I move out on my own again, the child support will not quite cover the rent, but we’ll manage. I’ll be debt free and my check will stretch just fine. Someday I’ll even be able to replace the car.” Thankfully, it hadn’t acted up recently and she thought she could nurse it along for a few more years.
“At least something worked out for you.” He brushed back a stray curl in front of her cheek, bringing goose pimples to her neck and arm. “And now you’re home.”
“Yeah, I’m home.” She tried to ignore the effect his touch had on her and focus on the conversation. “I never realized that none of the places I lived since I left here felt quite right. I made a home after I was married, trying to make everything perfect, but it never felt like living here does. Even when we move out again and I end up in another apartment, it will feel more like home simply because I’m back here.” She made eye contact and felt warmth in her chest when he turned one of his brilliant smiles on her. “It’s good to be home.”
“Yeah. It’s good to have you home, where you belong.” He reached out and brushed his fingers down her cheek and along her bottom lip. It brought back the vivid memory of their kiss and she felt her defenses against him crumble a little more.
That scared her, and Karissa moved back against the door to finish the last bite of banana. “I better go. I have to get back to the farm, take a nap, then run Paul to Pueblo. I have a busy day and you have school.” She fumbled for the door handle and was out of the cab in seconds. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Marsh’s forehead creased, but he smiled. “Thanks for sharing with me. I’ll see you later.”
Karissa nodded and shut the door, then hurried to her own car and slid into the cold interior. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous all of a sudden. She couldn’t be falling for Marsh. They had never liked each other, never tolerated each other until now. Besides, she didn’t need a man in her life. She needed her life to be her own, under her own control. After what she had been through, she had no intention of letting any man back in.