and so will Joe,” she immediately said, appreciating Jewel’s offer. The children were clearly upset by what was happening which was understandable. Some of them may have had run-ins with the law or been disappointed with the systems put in place to protect them. They would need Jewel’s reassurance about what was happening.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything more,” she added and without waiting, rushed after T.J. and the police officer.
As she caught up to them, Deputy Rawlings eased T.J. into the backseat of the cruiser, then he took the wheel.
Macy quickly got settled in her own car and followed a safe distance behind the cruiser. She followed it into the parking lot for the police station and got out of her car, but as she headed toward the door, Deputy Rawlings stopped and faced her.
“It might be best for you to go get a coffee while T.J. and I talk.”
She thought about her son being interrogated by the officer. She didn’t like the thought of it, but she also didn’t want to anger the deputy. Taking a deep breath, she looked away and realized Fisher and his dad were across the street in front of Miss Sue’s.
They watched intently, clearly aware that something was up. A condemning look immediately came to Fisher’s face, but Buck’s features were more supportive. A second later, the older man took a step toward them and after some initial hesitation, Fisher followed his dad.
Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the police officer and decided to voice her concerns. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea that T.J. speak to you alone.”
Deputy Rawlings’ lips tightened into an ascetic line as he ripped off his hat, frustration and anger evident in every brusque movement. “Why do you want to make this difficult? I’m not taking T.J. into custody. I just want to ask him a few simple questions.”
“Is there a problem, Macy?” Buck Yates asked as he stood beside her.
She glanced up at Buck, avoiding Fisher when he took a spot just to the right of his dad. “One of the teens has gone missing from the ranch and Deputy Rawlings wants to speak to T.J. about it.”
Buck nodded and pushed his hat back, adopting a stance that was more casual than that of the officer. “I’m sure the deputy understands how troubling this is for both you and T.J. That he needs to handle this carefully. Right, Deputy?”
A muscle clenched along the officer’s jaw, but he nodded slowly. “Certainly, Buck. I know how to deal with this.”
“Good. How about you join Fisher and me for dinner, Macy? Give the deputy and T.J. some time just to chat.”
Protest gathered within her, ready to erupt, but Buck slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her so she kept her tongue. When the deputy took her son away, she forced a weak smile at the older man.
“Thank you for the invite, Buck, but I’m not sure I could eat a thing right now.”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said and applied gentle pressure to turn her around. He guided her in the direction of Miss Sue’s, Fisher quietly following behind them.
Inside the restaurant they were quickly seated at a booth. Buck took the one bench and sat in the middle, giving her no option but to slide along the vinyl of the other booth bench until Fisher could sit beside her.
The waitress came over and handed them menus.
She had intended not to take one, lacking any appetite, but Buck’s half-lidded look brooked no disagreement.
After a short perusal of the menu, she ordered a soup and a half of a fresh roasted turkey sandwich, earning a satisfied nod from the older man.
Neither Fisher nor he seemed to have any problem with their appetites since they ordered the blue plate specials, which included not only the soup of the day, but chicken-fried steak with white gravy, squash and cheese casserole, green beans and a choice of dessert.
After taking their orders, the waitress brought over tall glasses of iced tea, a dish of summer slaw and a basket heaped with warm corn bread and sweet cream butter.
The enticing smell of the corn bread made her stomach growl. She placed a hand above her belly, but Fisher picked up the basket and offered it to her. “Would you like some?”
She smiled and thanked him. After buttering the corn bread, she took a bite and sighed as the dulcet flavors of the corn and butter filled her mouth.
“This is good,” she said, but then quickly added, “but not as good as that jalapeño corn bread you used to make for us when we were kids, Buck.”
“That was really tasty with your five alarm chili, Pa,” Fisher said, but then stuffed a big piece of buttered corn bread in his mouth.
Buck laughed and forked some of the summer slaw onto his bread dish. “The four of you could sure eat,” he said with a chuckle.
Fisher nodded, recalling the many nights that Macy and Tim had joined his family for a meal. “Those were good times.”
“Yes, they were,” Macy said. A sad sigh followed, however.
“It’ll be okay, darlin’. Don’t worry about T.J.,” Buck offered, but Macy dipped her head down until her chin was nearly burrowing a hole in her chest.
Upset by her dismay, Fisher reached beneath the table and laid his hand over hers. “It will be okay,” he also reassured.
With a long inhale and a sniffle, Macy nodded. “Yes, it will be okay. I’ll make it okay.”
He had no doubt of her sincerity, but worried about whether she could make good on it. T.J. seemed to be bringing her nothing but trouble and possibly the boy needed a man’s influence in his life. A man who would be there for him.
When the waitress brought their meals, he withdrew his hand from hers and they all dug into their dinners, hunger bringing a long stretch of quiet to the table.
Macy finished her meal quickly, but he and his dad had quite a lot to eat. While he ate, he offered Macy a small piece of his steak and she tried it, murmured her approval. Slowly he and his father finished their meals and by the time dessert came, they convinced Macy to get some peach cobbler.
When they were finally finished, Macy offered to pay to thank them for their company, but his father insisted it was their treat and that they should do it more often.
“I’d like that, Buck,” she said.
Then something inside of him—something Fisher didn’t understand and didn’t want to acknowledge—had him saying, “I’ll go with you to the sheriff’s office.”
Her mouth opened as she prepared to refuse him, but then she abruptly snapped it shut. “I’d appreciate that,” she said instead.
In front of the restaurant she hugged Buck and thanked him again before the two of them silently walked side by side to the sheriff’s office.
Inside the police station, one of the other deputies manned the front desk. As he realized who had entered, he sheepishly glanced down at the papers on his desk, but Fisher wasn’t about to be dissuaded.
“You know me better than that, Bill. Where’s Deputy Rawlings?”
Bill shuffled the papers into order before addressing them. “Deputy Rawlings is still with the suspect.”
“The suspect?” Macy nearly croaked. “When did he become a suspect?”
Before the other man could answer, Deputy Rawlings stepped from one of the back rooms. He grimaced when he noticed them standing by the front desk, but swaggered over, his shoulders thrown back. Hands cocked on his hips.
“Macy. Fisher,”