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The brothers share a loaded look, and to keep my hands busy, I place one hand against the sling where it covers Audra’s tummy and run my other through the short crop of hair on her head before breathing in her comforting scent.
“Okay. We’ll get it loaded into the back of Har’s SUV and then follow you over to your place to get it unloaded.” Duke grabs the trash bag as Finch and Rhett grab a box each and I’m left alone in the small space of my camper. Empty, it looks old and worn, but it’s more than that to me.
Sure it’s an older model, and I didn’t have a lot of things to make it homier, but it’s my — our — home. It’s the one place that made me feel safe again. It’s gotten me through sleepless nights with a newborn. It’s been my safe space as I build a business that I’m proud of. We’ve seen so much of the country from this camper, and while it wasn’t easy, the safety it provided has always been priceless to me.
It’s not much, but it’s mine.
I step down and pull the door shut behind me, not bothering to lock it since it’s clearly not going anywhere.
“You all set?” Jedd asks while peeling gloves off his hands.
“Yeah.”
Just as I speak, Rhett, Finch, and Duke come back through the engine bay.
“Oh look, it’s the lazy asshole,” Rhett goads.
“Yeah, must be nice having everyone else do the heavy lifting while you sit on your behind,” Duke chimes in.
“Living the lap of luxury, hiding out in the back of his shop.” Finch grins as he delivers the barb at his brother.
Instead of getting mad at his brothers, Jedd just flips them off while smiling. “Fuck off. Mrs. Gantry couldn’t get her Honda in here any other day this week, and it was overdue for the oil change. Air filter was clogged to shit too.”
“Sure it was,” the three of them chorus together.
Audra squeals and kicks her legs in her sling.
“She is the freaking cutest, man. I just can’t,” Rhett says.
“She’s definitely a looker. She gets it from her mama.” Jedd winks at me before his gaze goes behind me.
Rhett chimes in “It’s all that black hair with those eyes.” He wiggles his eyebrows in my direction.
“Both of you keep your defective eyeballs to yourself.” A voice comes from behind me.
I turn to find Harlan standing at the front of the engine bays. Our eyes meet and hold. His gaze steady and calming.
To me, he says, “Ignore those knuckleheads. Mom dropped them on their heads when they were babies.”
I snort out a chuckle.
He’s in his work uniform, and since I was busy getting me and Audra ready this morning after he left, we didn’t see him again before he went to work.
Black cargo pants, tactical belt, long sleeved cotton shirt under a short sleeve button down, he looks every inch the sheriff with the gold star pinned to his chest. A black ball cap with Everette Sheriff’s Department stitched across it sits on his head.
The uniform alone makes me want to tremble with anxiety, but I force it back down. He’s done nothing but make me comfortable since I’ve been here. But I can’t help the knee-jerk reaction at the sight of a cop.
And every inch of Harlan Calhoun screams cop.
Officers of the law are supposed to mean safety. They’re supposed to mean help is here. But that hasn’t been my experience with them.
I suck in a lungful of air before the kernel of anxiety can turn into full blown terror.
“Where is everything?” Harlan asks his brothers.
“Loaded into the back of your SUV,” Duke says.
“There are only two boxes in it,” he says to me instead of his brothers.
