Behind His Blue Eyes by Kaki Warner

couple, thinking they were as mismatched a pair as he had ever seen.
    Sheriff Brodie was a big fellow, taller than Ethan by a couple of inches, and even broader than Deputy Redstone. He had dark brown hair and eyes, a slow smile, and a handshake that left Ethan’s fingers numb.
    But what struck him most about the man was his stillness. Such a lack of vitality might have been mistaken for dullness, if not for the utter confidence in Brodie’s relaxed manner and the intelligence behind his probing gaze.
    On the other hand, Mrs. Edwina Brodie—or Ed, as her husband had introduced her—was opposite in every way. Fair, to his dark coloring. Tall and slender, whereas he was broad as a bull. As gregarious as Brodie was subdued. But the biggest difference was her total lack of guile—or perhaps, restraint—which allowed every emotion that flitted through her mind to show on her pretty face.
    And what Ethan saw now in those wide blue eyes was fear. Or, as Audra had said, the panic of an overwhelmed woman at the end of her rope.
    â€œHow long will you be staying in our little town, Mr. Hardesty?” she asked, in the drawling, up-and-down cadence of the South.
    â€œI’m not sure, ma’am. But I’m enjoying my stay so far.”
    â€œThat’s wonderful. Isn’t that wonderful, Declan?”
    Declan nodded. Propping a hip on the corner of his desk, he rested his crossed arms on his thigh and watched his wife.
    â€œHeartbreak Creek isn’t nearly as rough as it looks,” she went on. “Why, we’re even getting a newspaper. Isn’t that exciting?”
    Both men nodded.
    â€œAnd as soon as the railroad comes through, we’ll have our own little depot.” She prattled on for a few more minutes, then seemed to lose steam. “Well . . . I can see y’all have business to discuss, so I won’t keep you. But do come by for a visit while you’re here, Mr. Hardesty.”
    â€œI will, ma’am.”
    â€œWonderful. That’s just wonderful. We’ll look forward to it, won’t we, Declan?”
    Declan nodded.
    She pulled on her bonnet, tucked in a loose strand of light brown hair, tied the streamers in a bow by her cheek, undid it, and tied it by the other cheek. Satisfied, she clasped her hands at her waist . . . in a grip so tight Ethan could see the whitening of her knuckles. He supposed if he had a new baby and four stepchildren waiting at home, he might be a little tense, too.
    â€œWell . . . I should get back.” She said it without enthusiasm, as if hoping one of them would insist she stay. When neither did, she gave a brittle smile and picked up the basket. “The children are probably tearing the house apart even as we speak. I declare, there aren’t enough hours in the day to keep track of them. Especially with a new baby and all.”
    She did look tired. Her eyes looked bruised, her shoulders drooped, and that pinched look around her mouth gave the impression that she was using what strength she had left to hold something in.
    Like angry words. Accusations. Or, God forbid, tears.
    Ethan had grown up with two sisters. He recognized the look and knew what that fine edge in a woman’s voice meant.
    Clouds on the horizon. A storm on the way.
    Hoping to divert it, he said with robust joviality, “A son, I heard. Congratulations. Have you named him yet?”
    She flashed the first unguarded smile he’d seen from her. It changed her face entirely, giving him a glimpse of rare beauty beneath the weariness. Ethan understood then why the sheriff had been smitten with her.
    â€œWhitney Ladoux Brodie. I know that’s a mouthful, but they’re family names, you see, and it’s only fitting that he should carry names from both of us, don’t you agree?”
    â€œI do.”
    She looked at her husband.
    He smiled and nodded.
    If Ethan hadn’t heard the sheriff make the