Collision Course

Chapter 6

"Casey?"

Ira's voice cut through her reverie.

"What?" She blinked. "Sorry. Must have taken a short vacation here."

"I asked, what's next in your life?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead." She finished picking up the discarded brass casings, trying to reassemble her fragmented mind. "Thought I'd take a little time and figure out what I wanted."

Ira c****d his head. "Don't know if you're interested, but the sheriff could use some more volunteer deputies. And you've got a good law enforcement background."

Casey refrained from pointing out to him the world of difference between operating on a national level and handling crime in the local area. Nothing much happened in Alvarado County, population twenty-five thousand, anyway. But with the budget for the sheriff's office stretched thin, volunteers made up half the deputy roster.

"Yeah?" She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. Maybe this opportunity was the kind of thing she needed to get herself out of her rut. At least she had the skill set for it. "Thanks for the tip. I might check into it."

Ira grinned, a teasing light in his eyes. "We got a new sheriff since you've been gone. Don't know if you've met him yet. Ben Russell?" He winked. "Good looking guy."

Casey sighed. "We've met. He eats at the Half 'n Half a lot. Meanwhile, I need to get home and change. It's about to get busy at the restaurant." She gave Ira a smile. "Nice talking with you."

"Same goes. You come on out here anytime. No charge." He rose to his feet. "Remember what I said about the sheriff."

Casey smiled as politely as she could. Why did everyone seem so interested in pairing her up as fast as they could? Her parents were forever waving someone in front of her, including the sheriff. As if being single was some kind of crime. Or finding someone would solve all her problems. It would be a long time before she trusted another man. If ever. Meantime, her own company suited her fine.

Blotting her face and neck with a towel, Casey zipped and locked her gun bag, pulled her ponytail tighter through the opening in her ball cap and climbed into her truck. Sighing, she backed out of the parking space and turned onto the highway.

It was hot outside but she lowered the window, leaning her elbow on the frame and letting the sun kiss her skin. She drank in the scent of the countryside-horseflesh, hay, cattle, the abundant crepe myrtles. Familiar scents she let wash through her system. Texas aromatherapy. To her left, undulating waves of russet as a herd of cattle roamed the fenced pasture. To her right, horses frisked in the open meadow, nickering softly, tossing their heads.

Despite everything, she loved it here, no doubt about it. And it was a perfect place to decompress. But time stood still for her in Connelly, Texas, population ten thousand and two. She needed to find something to do besides helping her parents out at the Half 'n Half, the combination restaurant/coffee shop they owned. And keeping her skills sharp. Something to give her life purpose again.

Not that she expected she'd need to shoot anyone in Connelly or use her Krav Maga moves on them. But practicing the martial arts moves had become an integral part of her daily routine, as if these things defined her.

How pathetic.

Some days she felt as if she were stuck in blob of cement, unable to move forward or backward. If she could just get a handle on what direction her future would take. But before that could happen, she had to stop being so angry at everything and everyone and deal with the issues causing her rage. Then she could decide the most useful application of her skills and proceed from there.

She had a college degree, for cripes sake, six years with the feds and four in the Army. There had to be something in there that would appeal to an employer. The thought of spending the rest of her days at the Half 'n Half depressed her too much even to contemplate. What if she woke up one day and discovered she'd faded away, destroyed by the resentment eating away at her.

Maybe a stint with the sheriff would help her fill in some of the blanks. She'd have to think about it.

Forty-five minutes later, showered and changed, she walked into the Half 'n Half, waving to her mother at the cash register and stopping to give her dad a quick kiss on his cheek. As usual, the lunchtime customers were jammed wall to wall. Vicki Bromfield, who'd been working there as long as Casey could remember, skillfully wove from table to table, taking orders, refilling coffee cups and water glasses. Delivering orders as soon as they were up on the service counter. Mouthwatering aromas drifted from the kitchen. Her father's cooking was second to none.

Sighing, she tamped down her emotions, put on her apron and her game face and began checking on the customers in the coffee shop side. All of them had some form of computer or tablet open in front of them, eyes glued to the screen.

"Hey, Casey." Jim Garnette smiled at her as she brought him another decaf with a shot of chocolate syrup. "Thought maybe you forgot about us today."

Retired and doing genealogy research, Jim had convinced himself his roots traced to the years of the Texas Revolution. He aimed to prove his eligibility for the Sons of the Republic of Texas, and he'd been at it for weeks now.

Casey sighed, wishing she had a goal of her own. But with her head still so screwed up, she didn't know if she was capable of defining one.

"Are you kidding?" She grinned at him. "Aren't you one of my favorite guys?"

He snorted. "Yeah? Then you need to spice up your love life."

No kidding. But this time around I'll be a lot more cautious.

As she headed to the supply area for the coffee house side, she almost bumped into Ben Russell, all six foot four of him, looking very alpha in his sheriff's uniform. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders.

"Planning to mow me down, were you?" He gave her a crooked grin.