Dangerous Game

Deputy Sheriff Trish Franklin wished she could be a thousand miles away; in fact, anywhere butWinfield,Wisconsin. Still in her uniform, she drove the sheriff's Jeep down the familiar wooded road. Dread sat in her midsection as solid as a brick. The tears she'd held back for two September days--ever since Sheriff Harding had shown her the bad-news letter--suddenly poured down her face. Blinded, she pulled off the road onto the entrance to a grassy private road. She bent her forehead to the padded steering wheel. How could God let this happen?Grey Lawson stared out the bus window. The farther north he rode, the more he noted early-autumn golds and reds in the late-afternoon light painting the trees passing by the window. Grey wished he could stop the bus and just start walking anywhere--anywhere but where he had to go. Behind him on the crowded bus, a baby cried, sounding frustrated pushed past its limits. Grey understood the mood.But I have no choice. She needs me. I owe her. I love her. An old guy sat crumpled up beside him, a man who'd grown old behind bars. They'd gotten on the bus together, sat together. But they hadn't exchanged a look or a word in hours. Now nearing nightfall, the bus slowed. "Ashford!" the driver announced. The old man beside Grey finally stirred. The bus stopped and he unfolded himself from his seat. Standing, he cast a departing glance toward Grey. "Good luck," he mumbled. Grey nodded. He watched the old guy shuffle to the front and lower himself step-by-step to the street on the obviously poor side of town. The bus finished letting off the few other people for this stop and then started up again. The bus driver announced, "Next stop, Winfield!" Grey tried not to look back but couldn't help himself. The old guy stood, clutching his suitcase, looking around. No one was there to meet him.Good luck, old man.Grey closed his eyes and prayed that the old guy would find a warm bed and friendly smile before nightfall.Finally, Trish quieted and leaned back against the headrest. Tears still dripped from her chin. She drew in the fresh pine-scented air through the open window.If I'd suspected this was going to happen, Lord, I'd have stayed in Madison.Guilt, instant and fierce, scored her like a sharp stinging claw. No time for regrets. She had to face reality. And reality was Grey Lawson was coming back to town--and it was facing her father and telling him this hard truth. He had to be told today. But she didn't have to face her father alone. Three of her brothers would be with her. She started the engine and pulled back onto the quiet county road. She glanced at her watch. She was already late. Her brothers should be at her father's place by now. * * * Grey recognized the scenery on the highway into Winfield as if he'd seen it recently, instead of seven years ago. He stood and walked, swaying with the bus's motion toward the driver. He gripped the cool metal rail beside the driver and asked, "Can you let me off at the next intersection? It's closer to home and I'm walking the rest of the way." The driver glanced at him sideways. "You don't have luggage stowed underneath, do you?" "No, just this." Grey waved his slack duffel. "Sure. No problem." Grey remained where he was, swaying and bobbing with the bus's movement. The intersection of Cross-cut Road and the highway loomed ahead. The bus slowed; Grey moved down the metal stair and waited for the door to part. As soon as it did, he stepped out. He paused while the bus door closed and the long vehicle pulled away. Then he tugged up the hood of his gray sweatshirt and started down Cross-cut, heading toward home. He had a warm bed and a welcoming smile waiting for him. But from just one person, and his arrival might cause her harm.How can I prevent my return from hurting her?Trish turned west onto Cross-cut. Mist was beginning to form in the low spotsCote, Lyn is the author of 'Dangerous Game ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373442430 and ISBN 0373442432.