Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EMMETT

I weaved through the crowd gathered to watch the Jingle Bell Parade.

Children were perched high on their parents’ shoulders. Some of the adults stood. Others sat in outdoor camp chairs. But everyone had a bell in their hands or on their person.

This entire event should have been enjoyable. And for most, it was.

But not for me.

Not as I relived all the times I had sat on my own father’s shoulders, shaking a shiny bell. The memories were so vivid—in each one my father’s brown eyes speared me. I rubbed at my chest—the pain there was nearly debilitating. Fuck . His loss echoed through every single aspect of my life.

I was so angry.

He had fretted over everyone but himself. And look where that had gotten him—where it had gotten me.

I peered down at the title imprinted across my chest and frowned. Becoming sheriff—following in Dad’s footsteps—had always been my dream. But now I felt like an imposter.

Would it always be this way?

“Evening, Sheriff,” Dorothy Hart called out from where she sat by her husband, Lester. Her permed white curls were tucked underneath a green toboggan that matched her sweat suit. She was the department secretary, and I wouldn’t be able to do my job without her unwavering support. Not to mention she’d held the position for as long as I could remember.

“How are you two this evening?” I asked, genuinely happy to see them amongst the crowd.

“As good as two young spirits in aging bodies can hope to be,” Lester chuckled as Dorothy reached for his hand. They smiled at each other, and I caught myself longing for companionship that pure. Though, that would require going on a date. And I barely found time to feed myself dinner most nights.

“Well, I hope you two have a nice night,” I said with a salute. “See you on Monday, Dorothy.”

“You, too,” she called as I continued on my patrol.

I spotted my small team of deputies as they did the same. Theo Carver, Jeff Yarbrough, and Bria Sutherland made up my full-time unit here in Ranger Ridge. I had another four deputies stationed in the Valley and two in Spruce Heights along with a number of part-timers. Ridge County was the smallest in Montana and only spanned five hundred residential square miles—the rest being uninhabited mountainous terrain. The population fluctuated depending on the season, but close to four thousand people lived here year-round. And half of them seemed to be in attendance tonight.

Music spilled out of the shops lining Peak Street, and I caught sight of Greer and Rory handing out hot chocolate in small to-go cups to the people huddled around Sips.

I couldn’t help but smile, despite my soured mood. I was damn proud of my sisters for following their dreams—something I didn’t tell them nearly as often as I should.

I took a step in their direction, determined to do just that, when Millie Rushing blocked my path—snapping pictures of my sisters on her phone as they continued to place warm beverages into eager hands. Millie’s parents stood a few paces away with cups of their own and watched the commotion with smiles on their faces.

Mille captured my attention again, and my eyes followed her as she floated about—navigating the crowd effortlessly. Her long hair looked more red than brown tonight in the glow of the streetlights, and it had me mesmerized. The red coat she wore hugged her frame and accentuated her curves I might have dreamt about once or twice.

She had fire and fervor but could be quiet and contemplative at times, too. I couldn’t get a read on her, and if I was being honest, it drove me fucking insane. Being around her was such a conundrum. I felt naturally drawn to her, but I didn’t have any room left in my life for people who could just up and leave at any time.

Someone pushed at my back, stealing my attention away. I spun to find an unfamiliar face staring back at me.

“Sorry, man,” the guy said, taking a step back. “Was hoping to snag a hot chocolate and the darker haired one’s number before heading out.”

Greer was my more reserved sister, but that had never stopped men from pining at her feet.

I had a few inches and some pounds on him, but he appeared to be around my age. He had dark hair that hung down around his jawline, sticking to the scruff growing there. His jacket fit loosely over jeans that had seen better days.

He wasn’t exactly her type, but who was I to stop someone from shooting their shot?

“No worries,” I said with a tip of my head. “Looks like you might have to get in line, though.”

He looked past me to the crowd forming in front of my sisters and frowned.

“Damn,” he mumbled. “Wish I had time to wait.”

“She’s behind the counter most mornings, if you wanted to stop in,” I offered. Greer might not be into the guy, but she’d appreciate his business—or at least, I hoped she would.

“Thanks,” he said, his spirits seeming to lift. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

“Have a good night,” I called as he left.

They were serving the last of the hot chocolate by the time I made it over to them .

“That was a smart move,” I whispered to Greer, leaning down to bump my shoulder against hers.

“It was Millie’s idea,” Greer said with a shrug. “She and her parents helped us whip some up after they finished at the grill.”

Of course it had been her idea. For some reason, that left a bad taste in my mouth.

Not everything had to be a ploy to draw in customers. I knew she was working to help my sisters with their marketing, but this wasn’t how Ranger Ridge did things. We supported one another without the frivolous gimmicks.

“Who pissed in your pudding?” Greer asked, and I schooled my features but didn’t answer.

“You really don’t like her, do you?” she continued, and I glanced over at my straightforward sister. Her face was full of concern, but I just shrugged. Because honestly, I wasn’t sure what I felt for Millie.

One thing was certain, though—what I felt for her was complicated, and that , I definitely didn’t like.

Someone scoffed loudly behind us, and our heads whipped toward the sound. Only to find Millie glaring daggers at me.

Great .