“You think the sheriff is responsible for Sam’s disappearance? Or are you just trying to frame the sheriff for his murder?” She paused. “He’s dead, isn’t he? My father.”
He nodded. “I think so. I’m sorry.”
She swallowed hard as if fighting tears. She wasn’t just smart. She was also tough. She had to be growing up without a father to watch out for her. “Did you kill him?” she asked.
“No.”
She stared at him as if trying to read the truth on his face. Her eyes might be the same color as her father. But other than that, they were completely different. Sam’s had been cold and cruel. Maisy’s were warm and kind. Something Lincoln should’ve realized sooner, instead of seeing only what he’d wanted to see.
“I didn’t kill Sam, Maisy,” he said. “I give you my word.”
“Then why didn’t you come clean about your mama’s relationship with Sam?” she asked.
The question took him by surprise, but it shouldn’t have. He should have known Maisy would be smart enough to figure it out. Especially when she had done enough investigating on Sam’s previous life to bring her to Simple.
“How did you find out?” he asked.
“When I talked to Sam’s sister—I’d call her my aunt but she made it clear she didn’t want to be my aunt. She didn’t like my daddy either.” It looked like Lincoln wasn’t the only one who had judged Maisy by who her father was. She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but he knew it did. “Anyway, when I called her, she thought my mama was Tonya Hayes. I guess your mama was the woman Sam was dating the last time his sister talked to him. Sam’s sister didn’t know anything about my mama or Sam getting married or me. She just knew about Tonya and her son, Lincoln. I guess he had sent a picture of the three of you to his mama before she passed away.”
Lincoln shook his head. “I don’t know why he sent a picture of me. He couldn’t stand me.”
“At least he hung around you for a while. He left as soon as I was born. Before he even got to know me. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so determined to find him. I wanted to give him the chance to . . . love me, I guess. Which is just plain stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” Lincoln knew what it felt like to desperately want to be loved. He’d wanted Sam to love him too. He realized that now. After his father passed, he’d been starved for male attention. Unfortunately, his mama had chosen the wrong replacement. “I don’t think Sam could love,” he said.
Maisy sank down on the moldy hay bale sitting in the corner and pulled off her beat-up cowboy hat. “It’s weird that I should feel so sad about him being dead when I didn’t even know him. Especially when he sounds like such a jerk. It makes you wonder why our mamas fell for him.”
He walked over and sat down next to her. “I’ve asked myself that same question.”
“My mama said he was good-lookin’ as sin. But maybe she just said that because I look like him.” She glanced at Lincoln. “Is that why you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
He conceded. “Okay, I might’ve hated you a little.”
“And you don’t now?”
“You’re growing on me.”
“Sorta like a toenail fungus you can’t get rid of?”
“Exactly.”
She laughed, but then quickly sobered. “He was mean to you, wasn’t he? That’s why you hate him.”
Sam had been mean and abusive to Lincoln, but that wasn’t why Lincoln hated him the most. And now he realized that Sam wasn’t who he’d hated at all.
“Yes, Sam was abusive. And I hated him for it. But I hated him more for what he did to my mama—or what I thought he did to my mama. I tried to blame your father for my mother’s suicide. But Sam had been gone for years when Mama killed herself. Which left only one person to blame. Me. And nobody wants to blame themselves. It’s easier to blame someone else.”
Maisy stared at him. “I didn’t know your mama took her own . . . I’m sorry.”
“I am too.”
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen. Just a punk kid who gave my mother all kinds of grief.”
“All kids give their parents grief one time or another.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”
He nodded. “In my head I do. But in my heart, I still see myself as a bad boy who pushed his mother to suicide. I guess that’s why I’ve worked so damn hard at being this perfect lawman. I’ve been trying to make amends.”
“You’re far from perfect, cowboy.”
She said it teasingly, but she was right. He wasn’t perfect. And as Lucas had pointed out, neither was anyone else. Everyone had their imperfections. That didn’t stop people from loving and being loved. He had been so busy trying to reach the point where he was worthy of love that he’d missed out on enjoying the love he had. And he had a lot of love. Love from Chester and Lucas and all the Double Diamond boys. And love from Dixie. She loved him. He knew it. He had seen it in her eyes and felt it in her arms. If he let her go, he was the stupidest man on the face of the earth.
He got up. “I need to go, but let’s do this again sometime.”
“You want to meet here in the sheriff’s garage?”
“How about the soda fountain? I’ll treat you to a Coke float for being such an asshole to you.”
“And a burger and fries. You were a major asshole.”
He laughed. “Fine. I’ll even buy you a piece of pie with a big scoop of ice
