Sheridan thought it would be nice to pick up the Lowell females with a treat, so he stopped at the coffee shop on his way to the school. He got himself one of the milkshake things, Cheyenne one of those macchiatos and the girls bottles of chocolate milk. He left the truck running for the AC but took his key fob to lock the door while he walked into the school to meet them. All four were waiting patiently. Cheyenne, he noticed, did not have the box or flowers in hand, and none of the girls carried a stuffed animal. Well, like he’d told her before, it was up to her how she wanted to proceed.

One of his many psychology classes had expounded on the fact that rape survivors needed to have control of something. This would be her stand.

They walked out and he asked the girls about their day, his eyes scanning the area. No cars moved at all right now. The summer school kids had been bussed home and there must have been a lull in the employees leaving.

They climbed into the truck and Grace squealed happily to find the chocolate milk. Cheyenne got a pretty flush to her cheeks as she saw the coffee in the cup holder, and he shrugged. “I wanted one of those milkshake things and I felt bad not getting you guys anything.”

She laughed lightly as she ripped open the straw and plunged it into the drink, taking a healthy swallow. “We’re going to get fat drinking these things.”

He made a face at her. “Whatever. You can stand to gain a few pounds. You’ve been worrying too much.”

Her expression softened as if she agreed, but she turned to look at the girls and make sure they were buckled in.

“We need some groceries, Sheridan. Meats and vegetables.”

“I’ll come back in to town after I drop you guys off at the house.”

He could tell she didn’t like the idea, but she didn’t say anything about it until they got to the house. “Do you mind of I go to the store with you? Can we ask and see if Olivia would watch the girls for an hour or so?”

Sheridan was surprised, but agreeable. And so was Olivia, once he’d offered enough cash. Before they walked out the door, Cheyenne asked Olivia what kind of dinners she liked.

For a moment, an incredibly vulnerable look rippled over the girl’s face. “Mom used to make the most amazing lasagna.”

Cheyenne smiled at her, nodding her head. “I can make a decent lasagna,” she promised. “I don’t have time tonight, but I will this week.”

Olivia shrugged like it wasn’t important and turned away.

Sheridan had changed clothes and pulled his personal truck from the garage. As Cheyenne climbed into the cab, it felt very … close. Almost like they were on a date.

Sheridan shook off the feeling. They were going to get groceries. That wasn’t anyone’s idea of a date.

The feeling persisted, though, as they drove through town toward the market. They chatted about inconsequential things and Sheridan tried to keep everything light.

The market was packed, as he’d expected. Obviously people leaving work had the same idea, to pick up something for dinner. With a determined shake of her head, Cheyenne pulled a cart from the line and started wading through people.

Sheridan followed her, not saying anything. He was kind of curious, though, because she put things into the cart he’d never even heard of before. Sheridan found himself curious to try them.

“Do you have a grill?”

He gave her an affronted look that made her laugh.

“Did you seriously just ask this Texan if he had a grill?”

She shrugged lightly, and he loved seeing the color in her cheeks and the excitement in her eyes.

They checked out after a small scuffle about who was paying and were back in the truck within about forty minutes.

Dinner that night was surprisingly warm and friendly. Olivia came up from her dungeon and joined them. She didn’t say much, but she did smile several times at the younger girls’ antics.

Sheridan thought that she enjoyed being part of the temporary ‘family’.

Cheyenne had sent him outside to grill a chunk of pork, then managed to pull together one of the most amazing Mexican dinners he’d ever had.

Sheridan rocked back in his chair and folded his hands over his belly. Man, that was good. His belly hadn’t been so stuffed in a long time.

And as he looked around, he realized that the house felt more like a home right now than it ever had.

Cheyenne laughed at something Carolyn said, and some of Sheridan’s worry eased. She'd been very quiet since they’d opened the box from Wade. Almost stewing. He could tell she wanted to do something, but wasn’t sure what.

Sheridan didn’t think the meal could be any better until Savannah retrieved a plate of cinnamon and sugar sopapillas from the microwave, where Cheyenne had placed them to keep them warm.

Olivia groaned with pleasure as she bit into the fried dough, and Sheridan

realized that she hadn’t been this animated and seemingly happy for a long time. Having the Lowells in the house seemed to be good for everyone.

After dinner he went to his office to do some computer work. Cheyenne joined him there a few minutes later, sitting on the couch on the opposite wall. She folded her legs elegantly beneath her, then propped one elbow along the top of the couch, resting her head on her hand.

“Dinner was fantastic,” he told her. “Thank you. Real food is so much better than quickie stuff like we make.”

Cheyenne smiled at him. “Healthier, too.”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad Olivia came up.”

“Me too, actually. I think she enjoyed the dinner, and the company.”

“She’s not a bad girl.”

“I know,” Sheridan agreed. “She’s had it a little rough the past few years. My job has taken a lot of my time and attention.”

“Which is understandable,” Cheyenne said. “This isn’t a big county, but I’m sure you get a lot of work through here. You probably do a lot of things most people have no idea about.”

He tipped his head to her, agreeing, and he appreciated that she’d apparently thought about this. His job was difficult, but he loved having the power to make his community better.

Cheyenne’s eyelids were getting heavy, and he wondered if she realized how tired she was. Turning off his computer, he held a hand out. “You need to go to bed.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Thank you, Sheridan.”

* * *

The next day was Wednesday. Sheridan dropped Cheyenne and the girls off at school, then headed to work. Marlene met him with a scowl. “There are two messages on your desk.”

Uh oh.

The first was from Thomas Applegate, stating that Wade had arrived to work bright and early today. He was scheduled for the next eight hours, so if Sheridan wanted to talk to him he should be available. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to find a ride in, and didn’t remember the phone number.

That sounded like a crock to Sheridan. But Thomas was a little on the gullible side.

The next message was from Eric Groves, Wade’s parole officer. Sheridan pecked out the numbers on his phone.

“Groves.”

“Mr. Groves, this is Sheridan Lane.”

“Hey, Sheriff. I didn’t get your message until late yesterday, and I wanted to check on the paperwork before I called with details for you.”

“That’s fine.” Sheridan reached for a pen. “What can you tell me about his release? It’s been a pretty fucked up affair so far.”

“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine that the victim hadn’t been notified.”

“No one was. I was supposed to be called as well.”

“Ah, damn. Yeah, someone really bungled that, didn’t they?”

“It could have been devastating for the victim. And her daughters. I’ve moved her out of her house because I found signs of surveillance on her property. Someone was tromping around her house, looking in windows. Someone was also at a local bar, drinking soda, celebrating his release.”

“You think it was Shipton?”

“Timeline fits. Confirmed by a witness. Is there still a protection order attached to him?”

Sheridan heard papers ruffling on the other end of the line.

“It looks like it expired while he was incarcerated, so, technically, no. I think under the circumstances it would be easy to attach one onto it.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. He sent the victim a box yesterday, and flowers. Note inside was to his girls, who he gave up parental rights to in the divorce. Is there a school restriction on him?”

More shuffling. “Yes, there is a school restriction on him, but he doesn’t have to register as a sex offender because his charge was considered a marital rape.”

Sheridan cursed. “Okay. It was a delivery person that came yesterday.”

Groves heaved a sigh. “Sounds like he’s going to be a problem child, huh? Between not drinking at the bar and skirting the school, he’s going to walk every edge.”

“Yes. Just like he did before he went in. Victim wants nothing to do with him, but I have a feeling she’s going to have to tell him that in person, strongly, before he actually hears it. If he doesn’t we’ll be slapping that protection order back on him.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let me give you my after hours number.”

He reeled off a line of numbers, as well as an email address.

“If you can, Sheriff, keep me posted on what goes on. I feel like it’s a matter of time before he gets arrested again. He still has three years on the original sentence left to serve if he isn’t careful.”

“Okay. I’ll definitely keep you up to date.”

Sheridan felt a lot better about where they stood now. As long as they had boundaries and Wade kept to them, things would be hunky dory.

He called the elementary school and asked Joy if he could talk to Cheyenne. Within a few seconds he was connected to her room.

Kids were laughing in the background, and Cheyenne’s voice echoed a little. “Okay, guys, read quietly while I’m on the phone. We’re going to talk about the story when I’m done. Okay, I’m here.”

Sheridan loved the sound of her voice, even if she did seem a little tense.

“Well, Wade showed up for work at the feed store, and he did check in with his parole officer.”

“Fudge,” she whispered. “I was kind of hoping for an easy way out of this.”

Sheridan sighed. “Well, the old protection order is dead. It expired while he was in prison. If you want a new one attached, I can go to the judge today. I don’t think Wade is going to get it through his head, though, until you actually talk to him in person. Call it a cop’s hunch. He considers you his property. And the girls.”

“I know. I get the same feeling. Like he’s telling me to be compliant, and if I don’t then he’s just going to roll in anyway.”

Something occurred to Sheridan, and option, and a little spurt of excitement went through him, but he tucked the thought away. He would need to cogitate on that when he could focus on it.

“Right now, you guys are safe. He has a school restriction. He can’t be within five hundred feet of the school grounds. Once you finish this week of school, you’ll be done, right?”

“Yes. I’ll have a few teacher days then we’ll be done till August twentieth, when the school year starts.”

“Okay. We can do this, Cheyenne. I think if we give him enough time he’s going to hang himself. He’s already walking the line. I told the parole officer about everything, and he’s very close to being in violation of his parole.”

She heaved a sigh on the other end of the line. “As long as you don’t mind us cluttering up your house for a while more.”

He barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? I love having you and the girls in my house.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “You know, I enjoy being there too. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for everything you’ve done, Sheridan.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I look at it as balancing the books. I didn’t serve you well last time, but I am this time.”

She laughed lightly. “Okay. I need to get going. Kids are going to riot soon.”

“Okay. Later, Cheyenne.”