Sweet Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #2) - Ivy Layne Page 0,7

then set the ice back on the tray and picked up my fork. My last meal had been a long time ago, and The Inn’s kitchen was one of the best in town.

Cinnamon-scented stuffed French toast, fluffy biscuits, scrambled eggs, and crispy links of local sausage. No way was I letting this go to waste. Royal took my cue and dug into his own breakfast. West didn't knock on the door until we were almost finished.

Sawyers Bend was a little busier than your average small town, given all the tourists that moved in and out on a regular basis, but Weston Garfield didn't typically see a lot of crime. That had changed since Royal's father died two months before.

Prentice Sawyer had been shot and killed in the family mansion. The second oldest son, Ford, was in jail for his murder. And Royal's black sheep of an older brother, Griffen, had inherited everything. Since then, the town of Sawyers Bend had skidded off the rails.

According to Hope—Griffen's new wife and one of my best friends—someone had tried to kill Griffen twice, finally breaking into Heartstone Manor with a gun, intent on taking out as many Sawyers as he could.

Added to the rumors that there’d been some trouble at The Inn, I was betting West Garfield had been a busy man.

He greeted Royal like an old friend and took the seat beside mine. Before he got started, he eyed the basket of cookies and brownies. “I know you're not gonna hoard all those for yourselves.”

With a shake of his head, Royal passed over a packet with a crumpled cookie and one holding a brownie. West opened the cookie and fished out a piece. “It's a good thing you stay out of trouble, Daisy. I've never been susceptible to bribes, but these cookies might do it.”

He sat back in the chair, his eyes fastened to my cheek. I couldn't see what it looked like, but it throbbed, and my skin felt stretched tight. Swollen. It was a good thing I had Grams and J.T. to work the front counter at Sweetheart. I didn’t need customers seeing me like this.

“We have your early-morning visitor locked up. Unsurprisingly, he's not talking. He do that to you, Daisy?”

“It was dark, and I was trying to find the staff entrance—” I ran West through the events of that morning. When it was happening, it seemed like it took forever. In retelling it to West, I realized only a few minutes had passed from the moment I bumped into sweatshirt guy to Royal pulling him off of me and pinning him to the ground.

West took careful notes, his face impassive, eyes serious. “Is that everything?”

“That's it,” I confirmed and drained the last sip of my cappuccino.

West tapped his pen on his notebook before standing. “What you did was very brave, Daisy. I know Royal and Tenn appreciate you stopping him before he could cause them more trouble, but the next time you run into a stranger in the dark who’s intent on committing a crime, you don't confront them. You run the hell away. Understand?”

I hung my head. It wasn't that I didn't understand. I did. I agreed with West. He was absolutely right.

And given the chance, I would have done the same thing all over again.

I was only somewhat stupid, so I didn't tell West that. Instead, I raised my head and said as contritely as I could manage, “I understand.”

West nodded. “If you think of anything else, let me know. I'll talk to you later, Royal.” He left, closing the door behind him.

Royal looked at me. “You just lied to the police chief, didn't you?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. If I'd had my phone, I would have called for help.” I thought about the man in the sweatshirt holding that box up to the air intake vent, and I shook my head. “No, I wouldn't. I mean, I would have called, but I also would have tried to stop him. I'm not saying it was the smart thing to do—”

“—but it was the right thing to do,” Royal finished for me.

“It was the only thing to do.”

I knew better than anyone that sometimes choices weren’t about right and wrong.

Sometimes choices were about what you could live with.

I'd be living with this swollen cheek for a while, but if The Inn had to shut down because of a cockroach infestation all of us would suffer. There were other places to stay in Sawyers Bend, but none attracted