I take a long pull of my coffee before putting it back into the cup holder. The warm liquid helps fight off some of the bitter winter chill. I reach for my radio and clip it on to my belt as I unfold myself from the cruiser, but not before grabbing the tin of cookies I picked up at Maggie’s coffee shop on my way here. I should have gotten a coffee while I was there, too, instead of drinking the shit I made myself this morning. I’m worthless when it comes to doing anything in the kitchen. Probably because my mom was so good at it growing up I never had a need to try. Then when I got in the army they fed us. I’d never had to cook until now and what I do in the kitchen should not be called cooking. Burning, maybe.

I roll my shoulder, trying to get the tightness out of it. I should have stretched it out this morning but I forgot, and I know the tightness will soon turn into a dull throb that will agitate me all day. Shaking it off I head into my mom's apartment. She's been staying in assisted living for years now. She moved in about the time I became a Ranger in the army.

It was always her and me, and I think she misses having someone around. I thought she was a little too young to be living here, but once I got a chance to visit on leave one month ago I could tell this was the place for her.

I stop at the front desk, and Chuck, the man who works it, looks up at me. He hops from his chair when he sees it’s me. Chuck isn’t a big guy and he still carries a lot of his baby face on him, which he tries to hide behind light facial hair. His blond hair and blue eyes only make him look even younger.

“Sheriff,” he says, standing straight. I give him a half-smile to put him at ease. Chuck is always like this, well, at least when I’m around. He has put in a job request at the station a few times.

“Chuck.” I nod at him. “Everything good?” It’s the same thing I always ask when I come here. I want to make sure everything is on the up and up and there aren't any problems.

“Everything is great, sir.” He stalls for a moment and I can tell he wants to say more as he shifts from foot to foot. I raise my eyebrows at him. “It’s nothing really, we just got this odd note.” He digs into a drawer and hands me the crumpled piece of paper. I take it from him and look down at it.

Sorry, I took some bread and peanut butter. One day I hope to repay you.

I study the note for a moment. The penmanship is soft and delicate and makes me think a girl wrote it.

“We wouldn’t have even noticed the bread or peanut butter was missing, to be honest, if the note hadn’t been left,” I hear Chuck say, pulling my attention away from the note.

I slide it into my back pocket. I don’t want to give it back to Chuck.

“I’ll keep my eyes out,” I tell him, not really worried about someone stealing food but more about someone having to. We live in a small town and there aren’t many homeless people roaming around, but there also isn’t a shelter for people to go to. There’s maybe one of the local churches, but I’m not sure how much they are able to help.

I go to leave and head toward my ma’s place.

“I applied for the academy,” Chuck rushes to say, stopping my retreat.

I look back at him. The academy will do him some good. I know he’s eager and has some of the drive needed. The academy will show him more of what he’s getting himself into and if it’s what he really wants to do with his life.

“That’s really good, Chuck. Keep me updated.”

He full-on smiles at that. “Yes, sir.”

I give a nod, then turn back to head to my ma’s. When I get to her door I give a double knock and reach for the door handle. It’s unlocked like always. I curse under my breath as I enter.

“Don’t even start, Cole,” my ma says before I even clear the doorway, the same fight we always have about the door being unlocked stopped before it can even start. I get that there is a guard on this place and it’s safe, but I still fucking hate when front doors are unlocked.

“It was locked when I was in bed, but I stepped out to grab the paper and didn’t lock it back.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Besides, someone might want to pop in for breakfast.”

The smell of warm biscuits swirls around me and makes my stomach rumble, reminding me I didn’t eat breakfast. I don’t often eat this early unless I stop at the diner or make toast at home. That’s about all I can cook without burning it.

“Fresh coffee.” My ma looks over her shoulder at me while standing at the stove, clearly cooking something. Probably a million somethings.

I walk into the kitchen and lean down to kiss her on the cheek. “Morning, Ma,” I tell her before making my way over to the coffee pot and pouring myself a cup. I place the tin of her favorite cookies in the cabinet, then lean up against the counter and watch her work. My mom was always in the kitchen growing up. It was her favorite place to be. It didn’t matter it was just her and me. She cooked like she was feeding an army, which works around here. I’m sure people will start making their way into her apartment soon to dig in.

“Wish you would have told me you were coming this morning.” My mom gives a little huff as she pulls the biscuits out of the oven.

I grab one off the hot sheet and take a bite, not wanting to respond. I didn’t tell her I was coming for a reason. Whenever the women around here know I’m coming their daughters and granddaughters crawl out of the woodwork and I feel like a piece of meat being fought over.

I grit my jaw thinking about it. It isn’t that I don’t want a woman in my life, just no one has ever caught my eye. Plus, this is a small town. I didn’t like the idea of running into someone I dated after it didn’t work out. Or worse, one day I do find a woman and make her my wife and she has to run into people I dated.

I know what is coming from my mom next. She’s been on me since I healed from my injury when I retired from being a Ranger.

“I really think you and Susie would make a cute couple. Even cuter babies.” She says it dreamily, turning to look at me. She pushes her short gray hair behind one ear, giving me soft eyes while she smiles. I shove more of the biscuit in my mouth. She rolls her eyes before turning back to the stove to pull off the eggs and dump them into a bowl, but not before giving another little huff.

“Collie, you haven’t even brought me a woman to meet.” Her shoulders drops a little as she places the bowl of eggs on the table.

I swallow the food in my mouth, feeling a little bad. “It’s not that I’m hiding women from you, Ma.” I’m not. I just haven’t dated since I left the army. I didn’t have a desire to, on top of the other things. That part of me felt like it died when I almost lost my own life. I have a whole county to look after right now anyway. I don’t have room on my plate to worry about anyone else.

She walks over to me, placing her hands on my chest. “I just want you to be happy.” She looks up at me.

I want to tell her I am happy, but I’m not sure if that’s true. I don’t feel unhappy. In truth, I don’t feel much of anything. Numb to my own life. When that bomb went off it felt like it took more than a chunk of my shoulder. Something else went missing and I can’t seem to find whatever it is.

“Ma, I’m good,” I tell her, trying to reassure her. She studies my face. “You don’t need to worry about me. Not anymore.” I add the last part because I know while I was enlisted all she did was worry. I probably took ten years off her life when she got the call that I was unconscious and in the hospital going into surgery. That’s part of why I didn’t fight to go back, and I took my retirement and came home.

“Sila.” I hear a man’s voice come from the front door and I know it’s George. My ma steps back from me to greet him. A small smile pulls at her lips before she masks it.

“Hi, George.” She says it like she’s a little irritated. “You came over for breakfast?” she asks, grabbing some plates and setting them on the table that’s filled with a bunch of other breakfast food already.

“I came for your company,” he shoots back. His eyes come to mine and he gives me a wink. I just shake my head. These two have been dancing around each other for months. I know my mom likes him, but the problem is so does every other woman around here. Though the times I’ve been here I’ve never seen him give any of them the time of day. His eyes are always on my mom. I thought maybe I should talk to him, but I think my ma has it handled, and not to mention, I like George. Have from the moment I showed up one day and he was giving her hell about her unlocked door, too.

“Always the flirt.” My mom bats a hand at him in a shooing motion. George grabs it and kisses her palm.

“Only with you.” They stare at each other for a moment. I feel like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t be.

“Morning!” someone calls from the door. Thank fuck, I think to myself. I didn’t want to see what was going to happen next with George and my mom. My moment of relief is short lived when I see it’s Betty coming in.

“Cole!” She almost screams when she sees me standing there. My mom tries to pull her hand from George’s. He reluctantly lets her go. “I was hoping to see you. My granddaughter gave me her number to give you.” She starts digging through her purse and I guess she’s looking for it.

Fuck. I hate shit like this. Do I take the number and never call, or do I tell this woman, “No I don’t want it.” Both seem like shitty options. I give her a smile, trying to be friendly.

My radio on my hip goes off and I reach for it.

“Bannon here,” I call back to Asher.

“Got a call from the bank. They think someone is breaking in and staying in the house on the corner of 4th and Shine.”

“That’s the foreclosed one, right?” I recall them putting up a sign on it last week.

“Yeah, I can have Sam check it out when he gets in if you’re busy.”

I glance around the room and see two more of my mom’s friends have showed up. They’re all eyeing me. The only person not watching me is George, and that’s because he’s too busy watching my mom.

“I got it,” I tell him, then clip the radio back onto my belt.

I walk toward my mom. “You haven’t even eaten yet,” she tells me. I kiss her on the cheek. She grabs a biscuit and a couple pieces of bacon and puts them into a paper towel. “Here, you can’t live off diner food,” she grumbles. I give her another kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Ma.” I head for the door. “Ladies.” I nod at the three older women standing there. Betty is holding out a piece of paper. I take it against my better judgment, no intent on using it but wanting to be polite.

“I’ll call you later, Ma,” I throw over my shoulder as I close the door behind me and head for my cruiser. I give my shoulder a good roll as I feel tension already building in it.

I shove the paper into my pocket and feel the other one I’d put in there earlier. I pull it out and study it for a second. I bring it to my nose for some reason, wanting to smell it, but there is no smell.

I shake my head at myself as I slide into my cruiser and take off toward 4th and Shine.