“You’re right there,” Buck smiled cruelly beneath his trademark Stetson. “But I’m much more forgiving than my brother. You’ve got one week, Mr. Connelly. One week to pack up and leave Avalon for good or else my brother will ruin you professionally. And you don’t want that, do you? To bring shame upon that young family of yours?”
Aiden struggled to absorb what Buck Fern was saying. He was blatantly making threats in the hope of running him out of town, but all Aiden could think about was Edmond.
Buck drew closer to him and scrutinized Aiden’s face. As he did so he suddenly straightened in shock.
“You been crying, boy?”
Surprised, Aiden wiped at his eyes. Sure enough they felt sore and slightly damp. He had been crying. As he drove away from Edmond’s house he must have unknowingly shed tears of despair as he tried to distract himself with the melodies from the radio.
“I…” Aiden floundered beneath the sherriff’s interrogation. He didn’t want to start discussing Edmond’s condition with him.
“I asked you a question.” Buck scowled in annoyance as he waited on his answer.
“Yes,” Aiden admitted helplessly. “I guess I was crying for a bit.”
“And what would make a grown man cry?” Buck’s voice lacked empathy or concern. His words were as sharp as steel and he directed them to cut against Aiden and increase his apparent anguish.
“It’s none of your business,” Aiden told him tersely, gripping the door handle and opening up his car as he prepared to leave.
“Everything is my business,” Buck placed his hand upon the open door like a claw, preventing Aiden from departing.
Aiden looked the old man directly in the eye, silently pleading with him to not press the matter further.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“How about I cuff you and take you back to my office? Think you might want to talk then?” Buck threatened.
Aiden closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Clearly there was no way he was going to get rid of Buck Fern and his unending desire to pry into his personal business unless he gave him the truth he sought.
“I went to see Edmond.”
Buck immediately released his grip on the car door and stepped back slightly. He turned away from Aiden, gazing back down the long road upon which they had both been driving.
“I heard,” Buck said, still not looking at Aiden, “about his condition. It is truly a sorry state of affairs.”
“You hear through Clyde White?”
“Mmm.” Buck sharply turned back to face Aiden, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Can I go now?” Aiden gestured towards his car.
“Edmond Copes is a good man,” Buck declared fervently. “He’s a son of Avalon and everyone in this town loves him. Even you.”
Aiden flinched with surprise. It almost sounded like the old sherriff was paying him a compliment.
“I hate to see a good man suffer,” Buck lowered his head and spat into the road. When he looked back up at Aiden, some of the hate that burned behind his eyes seemed to have dissipated.
“Until Edmond is well again, you get a free pass in my eyes.”
Aiden straightened. The last person he expected to show any compassion regarding Edmond’s illness was Buck Fern.
“I do have a heart beating in this old chest of mine,” Buck clasped a hand against his regulation shirt.
“Edmond is a friend. If you take off now, he’ll be hurt. Last thing I want to do is hurt him. He needs us all right now.”
“Thank you?” Aiden said uncertainly. He wasn’t sure he truly understood what was transpiring between them.
“But once Edmond is well enough to get back on his feet, you tell him you’re done with Avalon and that you’re heading back to the city. We don’t need your kind round here, Mr. Connelly. You made an enemy of my brother which means that your days here are numbered.”
“Can I go now?”
“Yeah,” Buck sighed, waving a dismissive hand. “Go.”
Aiden was in the driver’s seat, about to drive off, when Buck reappeared at his window. The old man tapped it gently to instruct him to wind it down.
“Yes, sherriff?” Aiden asked, trying not to lose what little patience he had left.
“How was he? You said you’d just been to see Edmond. How was he?”
Aiden felt fresh tears start to push against his eyes.
“He’s…sick. He’s really sick.”
Buck tilted his head to once again spit upon the ground.
“He’s still got some fight in him though?” he asked hopefully.
“Definitely,” Aiden nodded a little too eagerly. “Edmond isn’t the sort of man to go down without a fight.”
“Yeah,” Buck smiled slightly at this. “I figured.” Then his gaze hardened once more as he looked back at Aiden.
“This thing between you and my brother. It ain’t over, Mr. Connelly. It’s just paused.”
“I understand.”
The old sherriff finally turned and started back towards his patrol car. Aiden waited until he’d pulled away and had driven out of sight before he manoeuvred his own car back on to the road. As much as he wanted to be heading home, he knew he owed Betty a visit.
*
Whenever Brandy entered her apartment the ritual was always the same. She’d cast off her coat, letting it fall across the back of her sofa, and then she’d rush over to her answering machine, buoyed by hope. Eagerly she’d cast her eyes across the digital display and when she saw that it starkly read zero, she’d lean against the nearby kitchen counter, deflated.
Why hadn’t Aiden called? Brandy had even taken to picking up her handset and checking that her line was still working. When she heard the dull drone of the open line her heart would plummet further, almost falling all the way down to her feet.
Filled with longing and despair, she would then eventually drift into her kitchen where she’d begin preparing her evening meal for one. As she boiled pasta and stirred vegetables, her mind would drift back to her last conversation with Aiden. She scrutinized every word, every facial expression, but try as she might, she couldn’t find any evidence to support his sudden abandonment of her.
The sound of her phone ringing made Brandy almost drop the spoon she was holding with shock. No one ever called. The shrill sound echoed around her apartment, shattering her standard evening ritual.
Brandy hurried over to the handset and answered the call. A part of her desperately wanted to hear Aiden’s voice on the other end of the line but it was Rhonda’s jovial tone which found its way to her ear drum.
“Brandy, hey,” Rhonda greeted her.
“Hi,” Brandy smiled thinly as she moved to sit on her sofa.
“I just wondered what you were doing tonight,” Rhonda asked. Brandy glanced around her apartment. She was doing what she did every night; making dinner for one followed by an evening sat eating ice cream from the tub and crying over a chick-flick. She had plans to mope.
“Not much,” Brandy replied nonchalantly.
“Wrong!” Rhonda declared excitedly. “You’re coming out with me!”
“I