“How long are you going to hold me here, Sheriff?” I asked, having already been at the station for two hours.

“You understand that you’re in a lot of trouble here, Cameron, don’t you?” The sheriff gave me a stern glare.

“I only attacked when he was trying to rape her. Ask her.” I nodded toward Alison, who was visible outside the interrogation room window.

“Oh? He says you tore him away from a make-out session with your little sister and beat him unconscious. The doctor says he has broken ribs too. Maybe some internal bleeding.”

“That’s all?” I asked, irritated at being held up, or even detained for that matter.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’? You just beat a high school kid half to death.”

“That guy wasn’t in high school.”

“He graduates in a couple of months, but he’s still in school.”

“Is he eighteen?”

“Yes, but, I’m asking the questions here. Do you deny his claims?” he asked, anger in his voice.

“Sure do. It’s like I told you.”

“That you walked in, saw him attacking Alison Masterson, your sister, and…?”

“She’s not my sister.” I rubbed my arms, hating the chill in the interrogation room, but not wanting to ask him to turn up the temperature.

“Stepsister then.”

“Not even that.”

“You attacked her boyfriend,” he finished, tired of my interruptions.

“Pretty much.”

“So, by your own admission, you intended bodily injury to this boy?”

“Sure, he was trying to rape Ali… he had slapped her. He’s lucky I wasn’t angry.”

“What? You think you’re some kind of badass?” He leaned in so close to me that I could smell the garlic on his breath from his lunch.

I didn’t look away. If anything, I leaned closer, closing the distance so we were nose to nose. I held both hands out.

“So you want the cuffs?” he asked me.

“No, I’m not cuffed. That’s the point. So unless you pull a gun on me, yes, I’m the baddest of the bad asses in this room. I was defending Alison, and when he bum-rushed me, I put him down hard. I don’t like having to beat on people, but in this case… rapists are on my list of exceptions.” I knew I was pushing my luck, but the guy had been grilling me for two hours.

The cop pushed me back, hard. I didn’t really want to fight him, but I understood all about power and perception. I didn’t break eye contact, instead I got into his comfort zone. The fact that he’d pushed me without swinging or pulling the cuffs showed his fear. He created distance between us. The way he’d come after me troubled me. I was no hero, but I hadn’t expected to be hauled downtown and treated like the criminal.

I sat down, about to confront the sheriff about that. The door of the office slammed open, and an older woman in a business suit came in amidst a cloud of cigarette smoke. She gave me a wan smile before turning her attention to the sheriff. An unfiltered Camel smoldered in her clenched hand.

“Is he under arrest?”

“I’m investigating, and...”

“Don’t talk to him,” she told me, interrupting the sheriff.

“I’m trying to get to the bottom of...”

“So you have two witnesses who say your nephew tried to rape Alison Masterson and my client fought him off. Why isn’t your nephew in here, instead of Cameron?” She waved her hand at the desk I was sitting at.

“Your nephew?” My eyebrows raised.

“Shut up,” they both shouted at me.

They argued with each other. I stood up from the chair and let it flip over backward. Neither of them noticed me walk out of the interrogation room, right past them. My mother, Bill, and Alison were in the main lobby, talking with a deputy when I approached.

“So Sheila bailed you out?” Bill asked me.

“She the suit lady?”

“Yeah, she’s the lawyer we keep on retainer for the ranch.”

“Oh. Well, the sheriff didn’t arrest me, but I don’t think they are done arguing yet.” I nodded toward the office where the voices argued louder and louder.

“So you’re free to go?” Mom looked at me, then toward the front door.

“I should be. I guess the douche bag was the sheriff’s nephew.”

“Tim,” Alison corrected softly.

“What?”

“His name is Tim. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll be back.” I turned to the deputy standing by my family. “Did they end up arresting him?”

His expression froze somewhere between priceless and ‘oh shit’.

“Did they?” I moved my body in front of him.

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he found his voice. “He’s in the hospital being evaluated. He’ll be charged once he can be moved. You really did a number on him.”

“Sorry about that. I was holding back,” I muttered, and playfully pushed on Alison’s arm, sending her crashing into Bill.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself. You okay?”

“I am now.”

I had to fight the urge to not grin back.

“So are we free to go?” I asked the deputy.

“I don’t...” The office door slammed open, and Sheila stormed out.

“And if you don’t charge that kid, I’ll sue this department,” she threatened.

When she got to us, she barely looked in our direction.

“You’re good to go.” She power walked out of the station without stopping.

The deputy watched her figure disappear down the street in silence. He turned back to us and scratched the back of his neck. “I guess you’re good to go.”

“That lady scares me,” I whispered to Ali.

“I doubt it.” She pushed me with both hands and almost made me stumble. She snickered and smiled for the first time.

“Kids…” Bill’s instant fatherly tone broke the tension, and I cracked up, finally.

“Let's go get ice on your hands. And since we’re all in town, we can pick up your outfits,” Mom told us.

I looked at my hands, swollen and slightly crusted with blood from both Tim and me. I nodded and headed outside. Mom had driven my Jeep into town when the sheriff had put me in the back of his cruiser to bring me to the station. Bill tossed me the keys to drive, and the girls piled into the back seat as Bill and I took to the front.

“You know, the sheriff may hold a grudge,” Bill started.

“No jury would convict me.”

“No, probably not. Okay, let’s drive over to Gillie’s first, then how about we grab some lunch at the diner?”

“Sounds good.”

* * *

We bought Western-style clothing for the wedding at Gillie’s. When Alison tried on different shirts and came out of the changing room to look in the mirror, I tried to look uninterested.

Gone was the little girl with acne, and a slender woman a year out of high school had replaced her. I couldn’t quit stealing glances her way. She captivated my imagination as I replayed how she’d stayed strong throughout the ordeal.

Later, while we ate our lunch, the family filled me in on what had been happening in and around town, and why Mom hadn’t told me about her and Bill.

Mom’s tone held no apologies. “We wanted to make sure. Things ended bitterly the first time, and we wanted to make sure this time that we were doing it for the right reasons.”

It made sense that she’d keep some of her life with Bill apart from me. My first reaction would have probably been poor based on their history, and old feelings of hurt and pain would have flared up. I probably would have tried to talk her out of it.

“I’m sorry for how I was back then. I really wish you both the best,” I told them lamely. With reflection, I meant the words, and I relaxed into my new life that was going to include bigger changes than just coming home.

The lunch crowd was pretty much gone when we entered, but before we could leave, plenty of folks stopped in. I recognized many of them from the couple years I’d spent here before I joined the Army.

Most folks had heard about what happened, since a small town meant no secrets. Without much else to do in a thriving cattle community, people got bored, and listening to the police scanner brought folks out in droves. I kept my responses down to a polite howdy since I wasn’t sure if I was free and clear yet. Most understood, but some left puzzled, Tim’s guilt already decided in their minds.

The talk made Alison uncomfortable. I wanted to ask my parents if we could leave, but a heavy hand gripped my shoulder, fingers digging in around my collarbone. I stood with slow, but prepared, deliberation expecting the sheriff.

As I turned, the grip tightened harder. Alison’s eyes flashed a worried look. Bill stood up to face the stranger before me. He stood at my height with broad shoulders and steel gray hair closely cropped. His white cowboy hat hung low over his fiery blue eyes. The resemblance to Tim was unmistakable.

“Boy, you and I are going to have a talk.”

I pushed his hand off me. My strength in knocking off his grip surprised him. He regrouped to confront me, his body close enough I could smell the stale coffee on his breath.

“Back off, Carl,” Bill said softly, his voice hard.

“I’m guessing you’re related to Tim. So talk,” I told Carl.

Carl’s hands opened and closed into tight fists. “You hurt my son something bad. Bruised his throat. Doc says that it could have killed him.”

“You forgot about the broken ribs, busted nose, cut over his eye. Why worry about a bruised windpipe?” I asked him. I didn’t care if it pissed him off.

“You tried to kill him.” His chest heaved as he struggled to stay in control.

“No, if I try to kill someone, they usually get bagged and tagged.”

I stepped in close to his face, my cold military persona overtaking my personal feelings. I took his measure. Carl faced me head on, unlike his coward of a brother, the sheriff. My knuckles cracked in anticipation of another fight.

“So are you some kind of badass then?”

“Naw, I’m just a regular guy, but I don’t mind beating the ass of a would-be rapist.”

“He wasn’t trying to rape that stupid cunt...”

A hard slap that knocked the taste out of his mouth echoed in the heavy air. The hand that delivered it wasn’t Alison’s, as she sat in shock. Bill stayed across the table from us. My balled fists clenched at my sides, although I double-checked. Mom shook the pain from her hand as she stood beside me, her eyes blazing in fury.

“Don’t you talk about her like that,” she said, with a loud voice too big for such a small woman.

“Now I see where she gets it from,” Carl said as he raised a fist.

Stupid must run in the family. When he turned his gaze toward my mom and raised his hand, he lost notice of me. Not wanting this to end like it had earlier, I gave him a quick but hard flick with my knuckles in his groin. The breath left his mouth, and his face turned green as my punch to his sack made him nauseous.

“Please, no fighting in here!” Jeanie, the manager, rushed out from behind the counter.

“Nope, no fighting,” I agreed. “I think he’s just got an upset stomach.”

“I’ll help you get him out to the bench out front.” Bill smiled at me.

“Fuck you guys,” Carl rasped, his breath coming out in gasps. Sweat broke out on his reddened face.

He stomped out the door, and Bill flashed me a quick grin before his face got serious again. He was paying the bill when the sheriff’s cruiser pulled in front of the diner. I tensed, not wanting to go back to the station and thinking the worst. It pulled away.

“Does trouble always follow you around?” Alison asked me, bumping my shoulder.

“Usually.” I kept my eyes on the road outside. I knew in my gut that admiring the fiery young woman would only lead me to trouble.

“Let’s go, dear.” Mom took my arm under my elbow, and we headed out. Thankfully, the rest of the day remained quietly filled with wedding plans we needed to finish before the big day.