She drew in a breath, trying her best to gather her thoughts, which had scattered like snow geese. “Hello. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not. We said nine thirty. It’s just a few minutes past that.”
“I got hung up at Will’s preschool. They’re having a Christmas party next week and I’m supposed to take cupcakes, but I didn’t know how many or what kind. Plus, there’s a girl with gluten allergies, so I needed to ask if I should bring something she could eat and the mom who is organizing the party was busy talking to another one of the mothers who is on the game committee and I didn’t want to be rude and break into their conversation and...”
She stopped, mortified when she realized he’d taken on a slightly glazed look. “Sorry. I’m rambling. It’s a bad habit of mine when I’m nervous.”
He gave her a curious look. “Why are you nervous?”
Rats. Had she really just said that? Running off at the mouth and spilling inner thoughts she absolutely shouldn’t were apparently also bad habits of hers when she was nervous.
She certainly couldn’t tell the man he left her tongue-tied and jittery, like a junior high school girl with a crush on the cutest boy in school.
“It’s not every day I chauffeur the local sheriff to work,” she improvised quickly. “Maybe I’m worried you’ll find fault with my driving. Are you allowed to give me a ticket when you’re a passenger in my vehicle?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not officially on duty.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” She managed a smile, though she still felt completely ridiculous. “Are you ready to go?”
“I think so.”
That was a stupid question. Would he be waiting at the door for her if he wasn’t?
“What can I do to help?”
“I just need a little room to maneuver these things.”
“Of course.” She stepped to the side as he reached to pick up a brown leather laptop case hanging on the doorknob.
“I’ll grab your bag,” she said.
Though he looked as if he would like to argue, he handed it to her and she again told herself to ignore the little current of electricity that passed between them.
He had only a few outside steps to maneuver the crutches off the porch, but she couldn’t help hovering, muscles tensed and ready to spring into action if he stumbled.
He handled the steps as if he’d been doing it for a long time, which again made her feel foolish. He easily made his way to the car and opened the passenger door before she could reach around and do it for him.
“I can set those in the back,” she offered, gesturing to the crutches. He handed them over and she slid them and the laptop case into the backseat on top of the children’s boosters.
“Thank you again for doing this,” he said after she walked around the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat.
“It’s no problem,” she said. She couldn’t let it be. The actual driving time between their neighborhood on Riverbend Road and the sheriff’s office and jail in Shelter Springs couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Certainly she could handle thirty total minutes in the man’s company, no matter how nervous he made her.
Always a careful driver, aware she usually had children to protect in the backseat, she drove more cautiously than usual, pausing at stop signs a second or two longer than she would under normal circumstances and signaling well in advance of her turns.
She hadn’t lied when she said driving with him made her nervous, even though she knew it was silly.
Haven Point rarely had much traffic and she reached the town limits without delay and took off around the lake and north toward Shelter Springs.
The beautiful blue waters and soaring, snow-covered mountain range on the other side managed to soothe some of her nerves. Conversely, the man beside her seemed to grow more tense with each passing mile.
“Are you okay?” she finally asked, wondering if he found the seat position or angle uncomfortable for his leg.
“I hate this so damn much,” he muttered.
He wasn’t talking about her seat or her driving, she suddenly sensed. Depending on someone else for something as basic as his own transportation couldn’t be easy for a man like Marshall.
Poor guy.
She had a feeling he was going to be driving his own vehicle long before his doctors advised it wise.
“You’re already getting around better than you did a few days ago,” she pointed out. “Soon enough, these few weeks will just be a bad memory.”
He didn’t look at all convinced. After a few more minutes, he glanced in the backseat at the empty boosters.