High Country Cop. Cynthia Thomason

even have a photo ID anymore.”

      “You could introduce him to all these things,” Carter said.

      “I’ll do what I can, but he needs a strong male influence, someone who has a strict code of ethics. I’m just the little cousin he used to push over Holly River on a tire. You could give him hope for making something of himself.” She stopped, took a deep breath. “I know you, Carter. You may think I’ve forgotten that at one time I knew almost everything about you...”

      His eyes clouded. She hoped she hadn’t gone too far.

      “I don’t think much has fundamentally changed,” she said. “You were a good, honest, hardworking boy, and you’re the same now. I’d stake my life on it.”

      He stared at her for a long moment. In those deep green eyes that once were a window to every feeling he’d had, she couldn’t read his answer today.

      “Who else have you asked?” he said. “Maybe a minister in town, someone who’s more familiar with this type of volunteer work?”

      She managed a slight smile. “Only you, Carter. I want you. And Lawton needs you.”

      His eyes widened, perhaps at the frankness of her statement, perhaps at the wording she’d used. “Give me a couple of days to think about it,” he said. “Where are you staying?”

      She told him.

      “I’ll stop by the Hummingbird Inn on Friday and give you my decision.”

      “You have my number on my business card, if you kept it,” she said.

      “I’ve got it somewhere. And Miranda, my decision will only be to talk to Lawton. I won’t be agreeing to anything else at this time.”

      “That’s fine. Thank you, Carter. You can’t know how much this means...”

      He took his cell phone out of his pocket. “Don’t let’s get ahead of ourselves,” he said, punching in a number. “Hey, Richie, would you bring the golf cart up here?”

      Miranda was relieved to be getting a ride back down. She was suddenly tired and drained, and a large blister was forming on her big toe. But still, it had been a good day so far.

      When the golf cart arrived, Carter surprised her by handing Richie the shearing tool and getting behind the wheel of the cart. “Take over, Rich. I’ll be right back.” To Miranda he said, “Hop in.”

      She did. They started down the pathway. “I suppose I could have gone down on my own,” she said.

      “Yeah, and I suppose you could have gone dancing with that blister on your foot.”

      She smiled, deciding that smiling with Carter felt so natural, so good. They rode silently for a while until Miranda said, “I have to admit, Carter, your choice of profession isn’t what I would have imagined for you. I don’t recall you ever mentioning you wanted to be in law enforcement.”

      “I didn’t, especially, but then I sat in front of that college catalog, and ‘criminal justice’ just seemed to fly off the page at me. And here I am, years later, right back where I started.”

      “Well, the fact that you settled in Holly River doesn’t surprise me,” Miranda said. “You always loved this place.”

      “And you always wanted to get out.”

      She twisted her hands in her lap. “Not always.”

      Another silence followed until Miranda asked if he enjoyed police work.

      “I suppose I do. I’ve always felt it was a way to give back to a community that gave so much to me.”

      “Do you have much serious crime here?”

      “No. Haven’t had a murder, well, not that I know about. Few burglaries. We do get some auto thefts, and that’s a problem when the car belongs to a wealthy tourist from Atlanta. Those people always seem to think that locking a car in quiet Holly River is a precaution they don’t need to take.” He glanced at her as he drove. “I’d say our biggest criminals are bears and raccoons.”

      “Do you wear a gun?” she asked, remembering that she hadn’t bothered to look when he was in uniform on Liggett Mountain.

      “Yes, ma’am. I’ve had to draw it a few times. Once I even fired a round in the air when a bunch of tourists from Florida forgot they’d come here to ski, not just drink. But if you’re wondering if I ever aimed at a real person, no, I haven’t. Hope I don’t have to either. Our latest crime involves sprinklers and garden hoses, and I’ll be content to track those down and leave the major crime to the big cities.”

      “I’ll bet you get some strange calls from people wanting you to do things that aren’t in line with crime busting.”

      “I’ve pulled my share of snakes out of sheds and investigated a number of UFO sightings. It’s all part of the job, I guess.”

      “But you enjoy it?”

      “Yeah. As I said, it gives me a chance to be a valued member of the community. That’s important to me because my ancestors weren’t always such good citizens.” He cut a sharp glance her way. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that. My dad, his father and his father before him were only interested in making money. It didn’t matter who got hurt.”

      Like my father did, Miranda thought, remembering the stench of the paper mill Raymond Cahill owned. The factory was just far enough away that the smell never reached Holly River, but on hot summer nights, when the windows were open, folks on Liggett Mountain used to complain. Not that Raymond cared. Until the chemicals used killed her dad and left Miranda and her mother without a father and husband.

      She’d never imagined that Carter would bear the burden of what his ancestors did. She’d known he didn’t get along with Raymond, but his mother, Cora, was always so sweet and caring. She mediated many arguments between the men in her family. “You told me once that you aren’t your father. Remember that?”

      He nodded.

      “Well, it’s true.”

      He smiled. “If I have anything to say about it, I never will be a clone of Raymond Cahill. I’m probably the nicest cop in North Carolina, but there’s a lot of past regret to make up for.”

      They’d reached the bottom of the hill, and Miranda got out of the cart. “I promise to abide by all laws while I’m here,” she said.

      “You don’t know what you’re saying. Some of our statutes are pretty quirky, and you could break a law without even knowing it. But, heck, Miranda, you’re one out-of-towner I’m not worried about.”

      She leaned under the top of the cart. “Thanks for the lift. I’ll see you Friday. And Carter, don’t overthink this whole thing with Lawton. You’ll be a great mentor if you decide to do it.”

      He drove off, heading back toward the hill path, and Miranda walked to her car. She felt strangely sad when she thought back to Carter’s comment about her being an “out-of-towner.”