"I need to be up anyhow," Tory said more sharply than she intended.

"Right. Ill let you get dressed," Reese said, turning away, nonplussed by the abrupt change. "Coffee?" She asked as she retreated quickly to the kitchen.

"Please," Tory called after her. She joined Reese in the kitchen a few moments later, looking around her in surprise. The room, newly renovated, was modern and equipped with professional appliances. "What a great kitchen! You must cook!"

Reese grinned, ducking her head shyly. "A secret vice." She handed Tory a steaming cup of freshly ground French Roast.

"However did that happen? Werent you forced to eat in the mess hall or something?"

Reese laughed, warming Tory with the rich timber of her voice. Tory relaxed, leaning against the large center cook-island that dominated the space. She sipped her coffee as she examined Reese in the bright morning light. She was in uniform again, the creases in her sleeves and trousers razor sharp, her tie knotted square under a crisp collar. The surface of her shoes sparkled with a flawless shine. She seemed flawless, too. Her black hair was trimmed precisely around her ears, and above her collar. The full front fell rather dashingly over clear blue eyes, a straight nose, and full strong chin. She was handsome and beautiful at the same time, and warning bells began clashing in Torys brain. Women this good-looking generally knew it, and that always spelled trouble. The years had not quite erased the pain left behind by someone nearly as heartstopping as this. She forced herself to concentrate on what Reese was saying, reminding herself she would never make that mistake again.

"I lived mostly off base. Learning to cook gave me something to do, since Ive always lived alone."

"Always?" Tory asked. It was hard to believe that a woman with her appeal wasnt attached.

"Yes, always," Reese replied quietly.

Once again Tory sensed a door closing as a distant look settled in Reeses eyes.

"How is your arm?" Tory asked, retreating to neutral ground.

"Stiff, but the sensation has returned."

"Can you handle your weapon?"

Reese looked surprised. "I think so."

Tory shook her head. "You have to be able to or you cant work. Seriously, Sheriff"

Reese held up a hand. "Please, call me Reese. You cant keep calling me Sheriff in my own kitchen."

Tory laughed. "And Im Tory. Now, draw your weapon."

Reese studied her for a second, recognizing the solemn set to her features. She reached behind her with her right hand to set the coffee cup on the counter. In the next instant, she had pivoted away from Tory, her revolver in both hands, crouched in a shooting stance. The tailored uniform stretched taut against coiled muscles, the gun unwavering.

Torys caught her breath, surprised by Reese's speed and grace. "You pass," Tory said lightly, aware that her throat was dry and her pulse racing. She had to admit the combination of physical beauty and controlled power was a compelling image.

Reese straightened, holstering her revolver. She smiled faintly and saluted Tory casually. "Thank you, maam."

Reese wasnt sure why Tory was staring at her so curiously, but she liked the way she laughed. For some reason, the laughter made her happy.


Chapter Four

After returning Tory to the clinic, Reese circled through town to the station house. Nelson was at his desk, frowning over yet another voluminous report he had to complete.

"Jesus, Conlonwhat happened to you?" Nelson asked when he saw the bruise on his deputys face and the fresh stitches on her forehead.

Reese shook her head ruefully, tossing her hat on her desk. "If I told you the truth, youd fire me."

"Try me," he ordered. He was laughing by the time she finished the story. "I told you the doc could look after herself! Just be glad shes only got one good leg, or she really might have hurt you!"

They stared at one another as he grimaced in disgust. "Oh hell, I didnt mean that. Its a damn tragedy, and here I am joking." He shook his head in discomfort.

"What do you mean?" Reese asked quietly.

"I guess its not a secret - as if anyone in this town has secrets. She was a rower. Did you know that?"

"I know she rows," Reese remarked, recalling the photographs in Tory Kings office.

"She did row. She rowed for the Canadian Olympic team. She was their big hope for a gold medal in the 88 Olympics. Another rower hit her scull in a trial heat just before the games. Cut her boat in half and nearly took her leg off with it. She never rowed again."

Reese turned away, her chest tight. "Is this stuff last nights dregs again?" she said gruffly, snatching the coffeepot from the burner.

Nelson gaped at her in surprise. He was never going to understand this woman. She closed up faster than anyone he had ever known, men included. But he respected her moods, so he just grunted as he returned to the endless paperwork on his desk.

Reese focused on making coffee, forcing the painful image of Tory lying injured in a shattered boat from her mind. Unexpectedly, she flashed on the way Tory had looked asleep that morning, remembering the still beauty of her form beneath the light covering. The image was inexplicably calming. Reese took a deep breath, her emotions under control once again, and turned back to the Chief.

"Im going to start my tour."

"Sure. Hey, grab me some donuts, will you?"

Instead of turning right into town, Reese went the opposite direction to Route 6 and Herring Cove. The fishermen and women were out in numbers, casting in the offshore depths for the plentiful sea bass. Reese parked at the waters edge, searching the horizon. Sunlight shimmered on the cold blue-grey morning water, two forces of nature meeting. There, off to the right, cutting swiftly and surely toward Race Point, was the red kayak. The tension in her chest eased as Reese watched Tory fly across the surface, unfettered and free. Calm once again, she wheeled out of the lot to start her day.

After her second pass through town, she headed east on Route 6, the main highway that ran the length of Cape Cod. A roller blader a hundred yards ahead of her caught a wheel on something in the road, flying off onto the shoulder. The skater didnt get up.

Reese pulled up nearby, lights flashing. She ran to the prone figure.

"Take it easy, son," she said as she bent down next to the wiry youth with short cropped dark hair. "Oops, sorry," she amended as she looked closer, realizing the skater was female. "Are you hurt?"

"Jammed my knee pretty good," the young woman muttered, grimacing as she tried to get to her feet. She had been skating in tight shorts without gear, and the length of her thigh was badly scraped and bleeding.

"Dont try to stand up," Reese cautioned, slipping an arm around her waist. She bent slightly, getting her other arm behind the youths legs and stood, lifting her easily. "Come on. Ill take you to the clinic," she said as she walked the few feet to her cruiser.

"Im okay," the pale young woman protested.

"That may be, but wed better make sure." Reese pulled the rear door open, sliding the girl gently onto the back seat. "Whats your name?"

"Brianna Parker," came the quiet reply.

Reese looked at her carefully. Her hair was very short and spiked; she wore no makeup. She had a small silver ring through the corner of her left eyebrow, a tattoo encircling her right upper arm, and a wide silver band on the middle finger of her left hand. At first glance she appeared like a typical teenager, but on closer examination, the girl had a haunted look.

"Are you related to Sheriff Parker?"

"My dad."

"Ill radio him," Reese said as she slipped behind the wheel.

"Do you have to?"

Reese swung around in the seat to face her young passenger.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Youll need your dads permission to be treated"

"Cant we wait to see if I need to be treated? Hes going to be mad. He doesnt want me skating out here. Besides, Im supposed to be in school."

Reese considered the request. Nelson was likely to be angry if she didnt call him right away, but there was something in the girl's face that swayed her. She could wait a bit.

"Ill have to call him, Brianna - but lets check the damage first okay?"

"Yeah," the young woman sighed. "And you can call me Bri. Everybody does."

Tory pulled into the clinic lot just behind Reeses cruiser. She looked at Reese questioningly as the officer approached.

"Hi!" Tory called, pleased to see her again so soon.

"Good morning," Reese replied, her voice warm. "Im afraid I brought you some early business. The Chiefs daughter took a header out on Route 6 on her roller blades. Banged her knee up."

"Damn," Tory muttered, mentally already planning what needed to be done. "Neither Sally or Randy is here yet. I guess you can handle a stretcher, cant you?"

Reese didnt reply as she opened the door of her patrol car and leaned inside. To Torys surprise, Reese straightened up with the young woman in her arms. Bri threw one arm around the tall officers shoulder for support.

"Lead the way, Doctor," Reese announced.

Tory merely nodded, deciding that she should get used to being surprised by the seemingly totally self-sufficient sheriff. Reese followed her through the building to the treatment room, depositing Brianna gently on the treatment table.

"Ill wait," Reese said. "Im going to need to call her father."

Tory nodded distractedly as she bent over her patient, then as an after thought asked, "Think you can make some coffee?"

"Absolutely," Reese replied with a grin. She found the tiny kitchenette and soon had a pot brewing. She was just pouring two cups when Tory reappeared.