Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (26 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2
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She bumped knuckles with him as she eased one hip onto the table. “Crushed it.”

“And she or he wasn't suspicious?”

“No reason to be. We squeeze in last-minute clients whenever possible, and with Dad's illness, people are cutting us slack. Besides, she was thrilled to get the price tag on this event, and she's calling a local farmer to secure the pumpkins and gourds we'll need to put together this new look. We've tossed the autumn bouquets in favor of gilded fall harvest and canning jar lanterns. Country shabby chic gone upscale.”

“Gilded pumpkins sounds weird to me.” Drew kept his eye on Amy and the dog, but he wasn't unaware of Kimberly's proximity. Cotton, fresh and clean, like newly folded laundry, spritzed with a hint of that fruity floral stuff. Oh, he was aware, all right.

“Well, you're a man.”

He turned then, grinning. “I was afraid you hadn't noticed.”

Did the flush on her cheeks mean something? Or was it the August sun?

“Kimberly, watch me hit that buoy!” Using pinpoint accuracy, Amy hurled the stick and hit the marking floater as Rocky launched himself back into the water to swim for it.

“Awesome!” she called before shifting her attention back to Drew. “She's got quite an arm, Drew. Does she play baseball? Or softball?”

“Yes, but not this past summer. I wasn't there to run her back and forth like I usually do.”

“She should be playing,” Kimberly declared. “That's a God-given talent right there.”

“It's hard when you're working an hour away,” he admitted. “And that's if everything is smooth. On a bad commute night or if I'm in the Manhattan office, it's longer. When I was just working corporate, it worked out all right. But once we hit the campaign trail, everything got bumped.”

She stared at him. “At that rate, you spend over five hundred hours a year commuting instead of hanging with the kid. I don't get it.”

“Gainful employment. Life in the tristate area is unaffordable unless you're raking in monster bucks, and I wanted her in a good school district even if it meant a longer commute.”

She directed her gaze toward Amy. “I'm sure she'd vote for more time with her dad. Her Team Slade mentality seems pretty ingrained.”

“That's why kids don't get to make the decisions,” he answered. “It's my job to think about finances, safety, education, neighborhood and opportunities.”

“Do you think our parents stumbled into living here by accident?”

Her question threw him off track. He glanced around. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Grace Haven is gorgeous now,” she explained, “and it was a great little town back then, but do you think they knew how much better this was than so many other places?”

She was right. He'd had a dream childhood here; they all had. He'd shoved that realization aside at some point, letting the loss of his buddy overshadow years of good times. “Maybe it's not so rare as it seems,” he offered softly. “Maybe you and I took a wrong turn after Dave died and forgot to weigh in all the good stuff.”

* * *

Kimberly had come to the same conclusion. That's exactly what they'd done. Ironic that it took coming home for both of them to see it. “I wonder if she'd like to play on the fall league team.”

“We'll be gone by the beginning of October,” Drew argued.

“That gives her a month and a half,” Kim answered. “She'll have to be in school here for September, right?”

“Yes.” He sounded hesitant, as if he hadn't really faced his current lack of options.

“So?” Kimberly eased off the table and faced him. “Why not keep her busy with a chance on the team while she's here? She can run and throw. Is she any good with a bat?”

“Better than good. She's got quick wrists.”

“Then give her the opportunity to shine. The kid's got talent, and Coach Cutler is a gender-neutral guy. If a girl can make his team, she plays.”

He stared, surprised. “You mean play on the boys' team?”

“If she makes it, she plays. And Corinne says the coach is awesome. He's developed a lot of great young players.”

“She'd play with Callan?”

“He's a little older, but again, it all depends on the skill level of the athlete. Come on—you know all this. You played here.”

“This wasn't part of the plan,” he argued, but she'd piqued his interest. “Amy was supposed to be safely tucked in a fun and challenging athletic camp, then a boarding school at least through January.”

“Well, she thwarted that, didn't she?” Kimberly laughed up at him. “What were you going to do about school? Have her skip a month?”

“No, I just hadn't gotten that far ahead in my thinking,” he admitted. “But you're right, I'll need to take care of things tomorrow. Get her registered. Which means having her pediatrician send her records to the school and get anything else they need. Kids complicate things.” He said it with a pretend glare in Amy's direction, but Kimberly read the truth. He loved his daughter. Amy's age meant that she'd been born before Dave died, but there had never been any mention of Drew having a child, and folks knew these things in small towns.

Drew must have read her mind. “Her mother died just before Amy was three years old.”

Kimberly winced. “I'm so sorry.”

Drew's strained expression said he shared the emotion. “We met while she was in grad school at the University of Rochester. We had a lot of fun together back when I didn't weigh up consequences like I do now. We parted ways when she graduated. She wanted me to move downstate. I refused, not knowing she was pregnant. Then we lost Dave. I felt like a loser, like nothing I did was right, and Eve called me the next year to say we had a daughter.”

“That's quite a year.”

“It sure was. I think hearing about Amy saved my life.” He watched as Amy dashed around the park trees with Rocky in pursuit. “I felt so guilty about Dave's death. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I couldn't function. I was a danger to myself and others on the force.”

His admission showed her how foolish she'd been. She thought he'd dealt with Dave's death and moved on. While her family recognized the danger in police work, Kimberly had laid the blame squarely at this man's door because a good partner always had your back. He hadn't—and Dave had died. Shamed by her own shallowness, she listened quietly, at last.

“When I learned about Amy, I resigned from the force and moved downstate.”

“You started over.”

“Not at first,” he admitted. “I wasn't quite done being stupid. I drank too much and did a pretty good job of alienating most of Eve's family and friends. Eve's parents are affluent people who were probably appalled by my behavior, but through them I ran into Rick Vandeveld. He saw something redeemable in me.”

“He gave you a job.”

“Starting at the bottom in security, yes. He gave me a hand up at a time when I hated myself. He showed me how important it is to be a great dad, a hard worker and a man of faith. I owe him a great deal.”

“When Amy's mother died...” Kimberly wasn't sure how to phrase her question with sensitivity. “Weren't her grandparents a factor in Amy's care?”

“You mean did they want to keep their only grandchild instead of letting her be raised by her rabble-rousing father?”

“It couldn't have been easy.”

“It wasn't, but I was working for Rick then, and I'd stopped drinking. And Eve and I shared time with Amy. They didn't like it much, but Eve understood me better than most. She knew having a child would breathe life back into me. And she was right.”

“She sounds nice, Drew.”

This time he turned to face her. “She was. We both realized we weren't meant to be together, and she was engaged when she was killed in an accident. And then Amy was with me.”

“Well you've done a great job because she's a delightful kid.”

“Thank you. I think so. Right now she's a great kid with a very wet dog.”

Rocky loped their way, paused and shook, spraying droplets of lake water all over them. “Amy, you did that on purpose.”

“I did no such thing.” Her grin belied her words. “I just happened to come this way. Rocky did the rest. Can we take a walk along the lake?”

“You're not hungry?” Drew paused. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Fine. I'm never real hungry when it's hot like this.”

“Me, either,” Kimberly agreed. “Then fall hits and I want to eat every high-carb comfort food known to man.”

“Right!” Amy smiled in instant agreement. “We're so weird.”

“No argument there.” Drew laughed as Amy poked his arm, then slung an arm around her shoulders. “Come with us, Kimber. It's a perfect night for a walk along West Lake Road.”

Kimberly glanced at her watch.

“I'll make sure we're back in time for your mother's phone call,” he promised. “And maybe we can grab a basket from the Shrimp Shack on our way back. We can munch and walk, a perfect summer supper.”

She almost said no, but when he tipped his head slightly, their eyes met.

She blushed, inside and out, and then she had to say yes just to prove she was in complete control of this attraction. Whether she was or not didn't matter. She appeared to be in control, and that was enough for now.

“Will Rocky be all right with the neighborhood dogs?” Kimberly asked as they curved down the lakeshore street. “The folks on West Lake Road are fussy.”

“They don't like dogs?” Amy asked.

“They don't like being disturbed is more like it, but I think if we're with the police chief's daughter, we're okay.” Drew snapped Rocky's lead onto his collar. “And Rocky won't react to the other dogs unless I tell him to.”

“I noticed that with Mags,” Kimberly said. “He's trained to ignore other dogs?”

“Unless given a command, and then he does whatever needs to be done.”

“Which wouldn't be pretty,” Amy added. “I got a call from Grandma and Grandpa today.”

“Reaming you for wasting their money by ditching camp?”

“No, Grandma said she understood totally and that the camp agreed to refund the money in return for them not suing because they had no idea I'd left. And Grandma said she was going to donate the money to a good cause, and I said it would be nice if she donated it to Rory's classroom of kids.”

“Amy, that's so nice of you to think of that.” Kimberly squeezed the girl's shoulder, impressed.

“Well, Rory had just finished telling me that some of the kids are from migrant families and might not have boots or warm coats to get through the winter, so it kind of made sense. Rory doesn't know yet,” she added. “I thought it would be smart to wait until Grandma's check gets here.”

“Kimberly? Out for a walk? And Andrew.” Lieutenant Alejandro Gonzalez set aside his lawn clippers and walked toward them, smiling. “I heard you were back.”

“News travels fast.”

“I'm not so sure it was the news of being back or buying three tubs of buttered popcorn to support the baseball team. Bertie Engle was singing your praises when I passed by their place this morning.”

The Engles were the best, supporting local groups long after they'd raised their own kids and could have shrugged things off. “They're good people.”

“They are. Is this your daughter?”

“Amy, this is Lieutenant Gonzalez. He works with Kimberly's dad at the police department.”

“Hi.” Amy stretched out her hand quickly.

The lieutenant shook her hand and raised an eyebrow toward Drew. “Seems we've both done our homework.”

Kimberly took that as her cue to walk on with Amy. “We're going to hook right at the next block and put in our shrimp order, okay?”

“Perfect.” Drew's smile said she read the situation correctly. “I'll keep Rocky with me.”

“Okay. Jandro, I'll call you later if there's any change with Dad.”

“Thank you, Kimberly. And we'll keep praying.”

CHAPTER NINE

D
rew waited until Kimberly and Amy were out of earshot, put Rocky at ease, then faced the lieutenant. “I made sure I updated myself on command before coming into town.”

“And when one of my officers spewed your name last night because you annoyed him, I figured I better find out why you were here.”

“And?”

“I called Pete, he explained things to me and then I checked out your credentials. You've made quite a name for yourself in security, Drew.”

Drew wasn't sure what he meant by that, because good security should be nameless and innocuous.

“It's not easy running security for big firms these days, and politicians are worse. So Pete and I were talking.”

Drew waited quietly.

“He was wondering if you'd be interested in coming to work here. On the force.”

“I would not.” The words flew out before Drew had time to soften them. “I don't do police work. I do security. Big difference.”

“A gun's a gun,” Jandro argued sensibly. “And Pete told me your job description changes if Vandeveld gets elected. Why not resettle here if that happens? You grew up here, you know the geography, the townies, the layout by heart.”

A frisson of unease met an ounce of new possibilities at the base of Drew's neck. “I'm not a cop anymore.”

“You'll always be a cop,” Jandro pointed out. “Not much sense pretending otherwise. I didn't mean to mess up your date,” he went on, and motioned to wear Kimberly and Amy were disappearing around the corner. “But our department's looking at a series of unexpected changes. Pete thinks you'd fit in, and you have the experience to do a good job. I'd like you to at least think about it while you're in town. See if it's doable.”

Ludicrous, yes. Doable? No.
“Jandro, I—”

“Something to think about,” the older man advised easily. “You've got two months before the wedding, plenty of time to give us a look-see and make a decision. Pete's run a clean department for almost twenty years. We need someone like that to take his place. Not just smart but wise. I think that person could be you.”

Drew couldn't have heard him right. He glanced around, then met Jandro's eyes. “Are you talking about the chief's job? You're asking me to apply for the chief's job?”

“Yes, what did you think?”

Drew hadn't thought. He'd assumed they were talking about rejoining at the street-cop level.

“Just between you and me, if Pete beats this thing, he's going to retire. He and Kate want time to travel, do the things they've put on hold for thirty years. My wife's company is pulling her to State College, Pennsylvania, to head up the Eastern Region headquarters, so I'll be leaving in fourteen months. It would be wrong of me to apply for a job I know I'm qualified for but won't be here to do.”

“That's an upright thing to do, sir.”

“That's how we've always run things, and how we intend to see it stay,” Jandro replied. “But that leaves us without a head man once Pete makes his announcement. There's no one in the department right now with the fairness and wisdom it takes to lead. We need a certain number of years and experience, Drew. You've got both.” Jandro clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Something to think about. I told Pete I'd mention it if I saw you alone. And then you came walking down the street. But you head on now—I've kept you from two pretty girls long enough.”

Drew started to walk on; then he swung back. “Lieutenant?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

The middle-aged man gave him a quick salute. “My pleasure.”

His brain shuffled the information Jandro had shared as he approached the popular seafood dive on the elevated western shore. The opportunity the lieutenant offered was unexpected, but came at the opportune time. He'd already decided to set down roots with Amy.

Could it be here?

It was something to consider, but he needed singular focus right now. Jandro would need to be updated on the wedding time-change once the new details were confirmed. He crested the small hill and Kimberly waved him over to the far side of the casual eatery. The counter clerk handed them the broad, flat box filled with spiced fried shrimp, chicken and sweet potato fries, and Drew looked from Kimberly to Amy and back. “You decided you were hungry, I take it?”

“About the minute I smelled this stuff.” Amy popped a hot chicken bite into her mouth, screeched and grabbed her water cup. “Oh, my gosh!”

“The sign says, Fresh, Hot Food.” Drew pointed out the banner-sized signs hanging on all four half-open walls. “They mean it, kid.”

“I'll say.” She breathed deep to cool her mouth, then pointed outside. “Can we sit at one of the picnic tables and watch the boats go by?”

“Sure.”

Kimberly led the way over, brushed crumbs from the table, then laughed at Amy's face. “Rustic is good, honey. And the sun is a natural disinfectant.”

“You're sure it's okay?” Amy glanced around, unsure. “I could go get a cloth and wash this down.”

“Oh, she's been in the city too long,” Kimberly noted. “The land of hand sanitizers on every corner has spoiled her for us common folk who dust off seats and tables the way normal folks do.”

“Amy, it's fine. Most likely we won't die,” Drew assured her.

“Hey, I'm just being careful.” Amy frowned at both of them, then brushed crumbs off her bench seat. “Okay, I've got this. We brush old, germ-infected food off the table with our hands—”

“That way the birds get a snack later,” Kimberly confirmed.

“And then we eat the food with those very same hands.” Amy sent a pointed smile their way. “Right now I wish I hadn't aced life science and didn't understand bacterial reproduction ratios.”

Kimberly laughed harder. “You throw like a boy and talk like a scientist. You're a fun mix, kid.”

Amy slid into her seat. “Thank you. In fairness to me, it should be stated that flocks of pigeons like to gather on picnic tables in our area, so rules may vary from state to state.”

“I'll grant you that concession.” Kimberly took one of the Cajun shrimp, popped it into her mouth and sighed once she swallowed it. “If I lived here, I'd eat here every night.”

“Or at Josie's Bayou,” Drew reminded her.

“Or Stan's,” Amy added.

“I'm doomed.” Kimberly made a face at them. “Too many good choices.”

“Which means you don't cook?”

Kimberly made a face. “No. The cooking gene skipped me.”

“Luckily, I do.”

She paused. Caught his gaze. Stopped chewing. And when she tried to swallow, she started coughing, which wasn't the romantic gesture Drew was going for. He grabbed a glass of water and handed it to her. “You okay?”

“Almost.”

“Dad watches the cooking channel.”

“Amy.” Drew put a warning note in his voice, one she was sure to ignore.

“Well, you do.” She held up another chicken strip. “He makes me seasoned chicken when the weather's nice.”

“Why when the weather's nice?” Kimberly asked. “You can't eat chicken in the winter?”

“I deep-fry out on our patio,” Drew explained. “We're on the seventh floor, and I don't like to make the entire apartment smell like cooking oil, so...”

“But we've done a lot of takeout this year,” Amy acknowledged. “Since the campaign got started, life's been different.”

She wasn't complaining; she was stating a fact. So why did Drew suddenly feel like a first-class loser for putting Rick's campaign ahead of time with his daughter?

“Life has a way of doing that to you,” Kimberly agreed. “When you live in Grace Haven, you have nine months of perpetual motion. Autumn kind of roller coasts into Christmas and New Year's, but then it's as if the clock grinds down. Winter settles in and for three months everything goes slow and easy. Except for backbreaking shoveling, of course.”

Drew grimaced on purpose.

Amy sighed. “I love snow, no matter what Dad says. And I love being in a small town like this, even though it's not tiny, like I thought. It's just right.”

“Drew! Hey, good to see you, how's everything?” A former high school teammate stopped by their table.

“Perry, it's good, man.” Drew stood and shook his hand. “My daughter, Amy. And you know Kimberly Gallagher, don't you?”

“Only because I used to gaze from afar,” Perry admitted with a smile. “Kim, I'm sorry about your Dad's health issues. He's on our prayer list at church. Tara filled us in, and she's keeping us updated.”

“Thank you, Perry.”

“You're welcome. Drew, where are you staying? Are you back for good?”

He shook his head, ignored Amy's pleading expression and motioned north as he shaded the timeline for security's sake. “We're using the rental apartment at the Gallagher house while we're in town. We'll head back downstate in November.”

“Well, make sure you stop by the big Christkindl Market if you're still here, then. It's the first weekend of November.”

“What's a Christkindl?” Amy asked.

“A German Christmas fair with all kinds of food.”

“Lots of arts and crafts and unique things to buy,” Kimberly added. “And a Christmas angel picked to wander the grounds and take pictures with kids.”

“That sounds so beautiful.” Amy sent a wistful look to her father. “A Christmas angel, Dad? How cool is that? Can we go? If we're here?”

“Aren't you supposed to be eating?”

Perry laughed as Amy scrunched her nose. “I'll let you guys get back to your food. I just wanted to say it's good to see you, man. Real good.”

He clasped Drew's hand, and the solidity of the handshake and the words made Drew's world feel more balanced.

Kimberly's phone alarm buzzed. She stood, grabbed one last fried shrimp and held up the phone. “I've got to head back so I'm there when Mom calls. I'll see you guys in the morning.”

He didn't want her to walk back home alone. He wanted to stroll with her, listening to the sounds of summer surrounding them, but it was time to clamp a firm lid on things even if he didn't want to. “See you then.”

She headed down the short drive to the lower road along the shore. He tried not to watch, but he did watch, hoping she'd turn back and maybe smile his way. Wave.

She didn't, and that meant she understood the self-imposed rules, but right now he'd like to kick the rules to the curb, put the past where it belonged and see what the future might hold.

They couldn't, of course. He'd follow her lead and tuck the attraction aside. “Kimberly is way fun.”

So much for putting Kimberly on the back burner.
“She's cool.”

“And she wears the best clothes,” Amy continued. “She always looks perfect, no matter what she's wearing.”

He paused midchew and looked at her. “Since when did you start caring about clothes?”

Her answering frown and flush made prickles of unease race up his back.

“I don't really care about clothes,” she assured him, but the way she said it meant the opposite was true. “I just think she looks great.”

No argument there, and how was he supposed to stop thinking about Kimberly if his own daughter kept bringing her up? “She's beautiful, but did you know she was a tomboy just like you growing up?”

“No.” Surprise and doubt lifted her brows. “I don't believe it, either. There are pictures all around her mother's office, of Kimberly, Emily and Rory, all in dresses.”

“That's for effect,” Drew explained. “Kate would want the office filled with feminine things because it sets the mood for formal events. But I don't think I saw Kimber in a dress until she was a high school senior, and that was by accident.”

“How?”

“They'd rented a limo for the senior ball, the limo was in an accident and all the kids were stranded in the pouring rain. Kimberly's brother, Dave, and I heard the call, and we took our cars to the scene and gave the kids rides to the ball so they wouldn't be soaked to the skin. The other three girls were in tears.”

“But not Kimberly?”

“No.” Funny, he'd forgotten how nicely she'd taken charge with the other girls. They'd stopped back at the Gallagher house and Kimberly had taken the girls inside. A little fresh makeup, a blow-dryer and a spritz of hairspray later, they looked wonderful. “Kimberly doesn't panic. That's another thing you two have in common. So it's okay to be a tomboy, kid. And to clean up well.”

She blushed, and that sounded the second nail in his father-of-a-preteen coffin. Liking clothes...blushing...

The reality of handling an adolescent and puberty by himself smacked him upside the head. With no babysitter, and an hour-long commute, there was too much unsupervised time in Amy's future.

But that was the future. This was now.

First thing tomorrow he'd set up the basement office to facilitate what he and Daryl needed to do as prep work for the wedding. And once Amy was back midday, he'd take her over to Grace Haven Elementary and get her registered.

And if she wanted to play ball for the next six weeks?

He'd give her the chance to try out. Kimberly was right. A talented athlete like Amy needed to pursue her own dreams. He'd forgotten that in the quest to help Rick attain his new goal, but being here in his old hometown made him remember that being a parent should come first.

He dropped some folded cash into a prayer box outside one of the gracious stone churches dotting Center Street as they walked back to the village.

“What's that for?” Amy asked, curious.

“I slip money into the first missions' box I see whenever God gives me a wake-up call. It's a way of saying thank you for trying to make a stubborn guy like me smarter.”

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