And I did expect this. Well, maybe not being sheriff, but being more than a run-of-the-mill cop in this small town. But then Daisy up and left when Jackson was just a baby, putting a screeching halt on all our plans. Jackson is—and always will be—my first priority. He comes before anyone else, even if that means passing up on what I used to call my dreams.
My dreams have changed, and all I want in life is to see him grow up, happy and healthy.
“Having a brother as a cop around here has gotten me out of a few jams,” Owen starts. “Having a brother who’s the Sheriff…now that could come in very handy.”
Quinn laughs. “Maybe you should just stay out of trouble.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Owen counters and finishes his beer. Out of the five of us, Owen has the biggest sense of adventure. Which is a nice way of saying he has a lot of growing up left to do.
“You’d be great at it,” Quinn goes on, being the voice of reason. “I know the crime rates around here aren’t staggering or anything, but being in a position of political power—no matter how small—can have a big impact on the community.”
Watching Jackson throw the football as hard as he can, I think back to when he was a newborn and I sat in the hospital room, talking to him as Daisy slept. I promised him the world, and so far, I’ve done a damn good job giving him everything he needs. But I’d love to be able to give him more.
“He’d be proud of you,” Quinn says softly, knowing exactly what to say to get under my skin, not that she does it to upset me. Like our mother, Quinn is freakishly perceptive when it comes to her family.
“I know,” I agree. “But…think about it…if I were the Sheriff, I’d be responsible for the whole county, not just Eastwood. It’s hard enough now trying to figure out who can watch Jackson when I’m at work.”
“You know I’m happy to help,” Mom says, listening to our conversation from inside the house. “Jackson is a great little helper when I’m at the office.”
“Thanks, Mom. But what if I’m called out in the middle of the night, or can’t make it to pick him up from school and you’re out on location for a job?” I look at Archer. “You get what it’s like being on call.”
Archer, who’s a surgeon at a nearby hospital, nods. “I couldn’t just leave either. But Quinn is there to watch Emma,” he adds almost guiltily.
“You need a hot nanny,” Logan and Owen say at the same time. They’re identical twins and do that quite often.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Archer says, earning a quizzical look from Quinn. “She doesn’t have to be hot, but I mean, that won’t hurt.”
Quinn rolls her eyes. “I used to work with several people who had live-in nannies. That way they’re always there, which would solve the issue of being called out to a crime or whatever.”
“A live-in nanny?” I ask dubiously.
“We talked about this,” Quinn reminds me. And we did, several months ago. The only way for me to be the Sheriff around here requires having someone at home to watch Jackson, and while I agreed to it back then, I’m having second thoughts. “It sounds more pretentious than it is.” She tips her head toward Archer. “You know we’re willing and ready to contribute to our town by enabling you to be our Sheriff. Just say the word and we can move forward.”
I take a long drink of my beer, not answering, but not saying no either.* * *
“I want absolutely nothing to do with this.” I put my arm around Jackson, who rests his head on my chest. I rake my fingers through his hair, dark and slightly wavy like mine, and hope I remember to take him to get a haircut this weekend. He needs it. Then again, so do I. I’ve grown used to having longer locks, and it’s one less thing to worry about. Maintaining a short cut requires too much work.
“I’ll handle it,” Quinn promises, nursing Emma with one hand while she opens her computer with the other. “Bethany from my old job swore by this site, and so did the CEO of our company.”
“Sounds expensive,” I grumble. Having invented and sold an app to Apple and then taking a high-paying position at a prestigious software company, Quinn has plenty of money. She cut back her hours of work now that she has Emma, but she’s engaged to a surgeon for fuck’s sake.
Quinn waves her hand in the air, dismissing me. “Think of this as us investing in our beloved community. Lots of people give big donations to the city, you know.”
“If I don’t like this, you’re dealing with it,” I go on. “Which means firing the nanny.”