The Police Chief's Bride

by Elana Johnson

  “It’s beautiful,” Norma said, and she sounded choked up. Sure enough, when Deirdre looked at her, she was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I have some allergies,” she said.

  Deirdre didn’t believe her for a second. No one had allergies in December, when there was very little pollen in the air.

  “I believe we’re doing some brief caroling,” she said. “I have all the tracks on a thumb drive. You said I could use a computer hooked to some speakers here?”

  “That’s right,” Norma said, fully composed now. “We’ll man the music from my station right here.”

  “Perfect. And then gifts. Done.” Deirdre closed the folder. “That’s for you. If there’s anything you need between now and Friday, let me know.”

  “I’ll make sure the desks are moved,” Norma said, and Deirdre nodded as she stood. She loved short meetings, and she loved keeping her word to keep them short. She couldn’t help looking toward Wyatt’s door one more time, and Norma caught her.

  “You know, he’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

  Deirdre’s every defense went up. She did not want to talk about her personal life with anyone, least of all her boyfriend’s secretary.

  Ex-boyfriend.

  She sighed. “Thank you, Norma. See you Friday.” She walked out of the police station with her head held high, remembering the last time she’d had to make a conscious effort to do that. Wyatt had come running after her then.

  He didn’t this time.

  She stewed over what to do about him as she drove back to work. She’d spent most of the weekend with Meg and her dog, Father John. They’d gone paddle boarding and spent hours on the beach, reading, drinking fruity slushes, and talking. Mostly about Meg and what kind of man she wanted, but Deirdre had opened up a little bit. And by that, she meant she hadn’t shut completely down when Meg had asked about Wyatt.

  But the answer was always the same.

  I don’t know.

  A few days later, Deirdre sat on her couch, the plan for the department party spread all over the coffee table in front of her. Setting up for a party of this magnitude was no small matter, and she had two pages of notes, with what needed to be done in what order to maximize the time she had.

  Sometimes she took an assistant with her to setup and monitor the party, but Christmas was one of the busiest seasons for weddings, parties, and celebrations. While the actual holiday was still two weeks away, everyone wanted to get their party or show done so they could enjoy the holidays with their families.

  Her phone rang, and she glanced at it. “Dalton.” She nearly fell forward in her haste to grab the phone, and she couldn’t keep the anticipated hush out of her voice when she answered with, “Dalton?”

  “Hello, Deirdre,” he said, immediately clearing his throat. That wasn’t good. Or maybe it was. She’d heard him do it so many times over the years, usually right before he came clean about something.

  “What’s going on?” She forced herself to only ask the one question, though many more piled behind her tongue.

  “Your daughter wants to know what you’re doing this weekend.”

  Someone else spoke on his end of the line, and Deirdre’s whole heart trembled. Had that been Emma?

  “Tomorrow,” he clarified. “Emma would like to know what you’re doing tomorrow afternoon and evening.”

  Deirdre’s mind blanked. Whatever she had on her schedule, she’d clear. She looked down, everything spinning wildly out of control.

  She saw the papers on the coffee table. The party. “I have a huge event,” she said. “The holiday party for the police department here in Getaway Bay.” She thought quickly, not wanting to lose this opportunity. “But I’m free Saturday and Sunday. I could come up there.”

  Scuffling and low-level talking came through the line. Deirdre hated this feeling of helplessness, mingled with desperation. Would she get in trouble for seeing Emma, if her daughter initiated it? She wasn’t sure how all the rules of the protective order worked, and she should probably call her lawyer the moment she got off the phone with Dalton.

  “Apparently, Emma has some play practices,” Dalton said. “But she has agreed to perhaps get together with you. Have dinner or coffee.”

  Deirdre just kept breathing, the movement in her lungs coming faster and faster with every moment. “That’s great,” she managed to say.

  “We’re going to the courthouse in the morning to find out about dismissing the protective order. I’ll let you know what we discover.”

  “Thank you, Dalton,” Deirdre said, on the verge of tears. She didn’t want him to hear that though, and she straightened and took a deep breath.

  “Can you hold on a sec?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Deirdre waited, listening intently though he’d obviously tried to hold the phone away from his mouth. He told Emma to leave, that he wanted to say something to Deirdre without being overheard.

  Her heart continued to pound, faster and faster still.

  “Are you still there?” he finally asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Look, she’s upset with me because I want to tell you everything.”

  “Okay.” Deirdre wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. “I’ve never asked for that. Only what you or she wanted to give me.” Which had been almost nothing since she’d left the North Shore. The longest she’d gone without hearing from Emma or Dalton was seven months. Seven long, painful months where she had no idea if her family was even alive. And the only reason she’d texted then was because the island had been hit with a tsunami, and she’d finally had a reason to text to ask them how they were.

  Still alive, had been his response.

  “She’s not doing well,” he said. “And I don’t know how to get her to do anything. She’s flunking out of school, hanging out with the wrong kids. I’ve even caught her vaping a couple of times.” He sighed, and he sounded so frustrated. Deirdre held the phone to her ear, numbness spreading through her.

  She didn’t know what to say, though the vindictive part of her wanted to throw everything he’d ever said to her about how overbearing and controlling she was right back in his face. He’d had no idea what it was like to raise Emma alone—and that had started long before the actual divorce.

  She supposed he did now, and that was probably punishment enough. “I’m so sorry, Dalton. She’s not an easy kid.”

  “No, she is not.”

  Deirdre thought, her mind moving through different solutions. But the truth was, she didn’t live on the North Shore anymore, and she wasn’t going back. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I proposed that we think about moving down to Getaway Bay,” he said. “We could co-parent easier there, and she could ease into having you in her life again.”

  Deirdre blinked rapidly, turning around as if someone would be there to tell her this was all a dream. “Is that what she wants?”

  “She doesn’t know what she wants,” Dalton said with another sigh. “And she doesn’t get to make all the decisions.”

  “I won’t see her or talk to her until the protective order is out of play,” Deirdre said. “I have to protect myself, and if I say something wrong about her hair, I don’t want her crying wolf again.” Her own vitriol, though slight, surprised her. She’d spent so many months pining for a relationship with her daughter, and yet not just any relationship.

  A healthy one.

  “We’ll find out about that tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you for telling me how things really are.” And they weren’t good, fine, or great. “Is she going to be able to graduate?” Students had to take a certain number of classes—and pass them. Just because Emma was only fifteen didn’t mean her grades didn’t count for anything.

  “She has to retake a math class,” he said. “And maybe this English class she’s currently failing if she can’t get the grade up by the middle of January.”

  “Okay,” she said, because what else was there? She cou
ldn’t give Dalton parenting advice.

  He cleared his throat. “And Deirdre? I just wanted to say I’m sorry too. For everything. For believing her over you. For not getting her to dismiss this silly protective order before it even went before the commissioner. For all of it.”

  Deirdre’s throat closed. This was what families did. They talked. They forgave. They came together to heal.

  She didn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t. “Thank you,” she said again. “Let me know what you learn at the courthouse tomorrow.” She could research it online too, but she fell back to the couch after the call had ended.

  Hope shone in her soul for maybe the first time in eighteen months. She’d experienced some level of joy and happiness since arriving in Getaway Bay. But she’d never really felt hopeful.

  She warmed, and her excitement grew. She jumped up, grabbing her phone, and she called the one person she wanted to share this news with. Share her life with.

  Wyatt.

  “Deirdre?” he answered. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Where are you?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes at the simple sound of his beautiful, deep voice. She couldn’t speak over the lump of emotion in her throat.

  “Deirdre,” he said. “Can you speak, sweetheart? What’s wrong? Is someone in the house?”

  “No,” she managed to say. “Can you come over?”

  Only one breath passed before he said, “I’m on my way.”

  And in that moment, Deirdre knew she didn’t deserve a man as good, as loyal, as kind as Wyatt Gardner. But she wanted him all the same.

  For the first time since they’d started dating, she had hope. Hope for a better future with her daughter. Hope for a life she wanted to live. And hope that she could learn to trust and love a man again.

  If she’d have known she needed hope to light her way, she’d have started searching for it earlier.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. She had it now, and that was all that mattered. And hopefully, she’d be able to set things right with Wyatt too and get him back into this new, hopeful life she wanted to lead.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Wyatt drove on the erratic side from his house to Deirdre’s, which was only about ten minutes. She’d claimed she was okay, but she’d barely been able to speak. He couldn’t help the paths his imagination took, and he envisioned everything from her being gone from the house to chilling on the front steps with his favorite pizza.

  His heart bobbed around inside his chest, nothing anchoring it. He thought of her stories about how she’d come to love lemon drops, and he really hoped the call had stemmed from something good, not something sinister.

  He turned onto her lane and approached her house a little slower than he’d been driving. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Her car sat in the shallow driveway, and the door was closed. After pulling next to her, he jumped from his Jeep and hurried to the front door, calling, “Deirdre?”

  “Just a sec,” she said, and that was good. She could speak now.

  Wyatt remained on high alert, scanning left and right as if the danger would present itself from there.

  She opened the door, and Wyatt knew the most dangerous thing was now standing in front of him.

  He found himself unable to speak as he took in her yoga pants. The tight pink T-shirt with the words Team Bride across the chest. She wore bare feet and her hair piled up on her head in a messy bun.

  “Hey,” she said, and while her voice was strong, a river of uncertainty flowed through her eyes. He felt the same thing cascading through his whole body. Her chin trembled, and Wyatt took her into his arms.

  She cried against his chest, and Wyatt let his own emotions storm through him too. “It’s okay,” he said several moments later. “Let’s go inside.” He wasn’t sure what kind of neighbors Deirdre had, as she kept so many people at arm’s length. She hadn’t spoken of them much, and Wyatt hadn’t even seen that warning sign that she might not be ready for a relationship with him.

  He’d always thought it was him who needed to overcome certain hurdles.

  They went inside, and Deirdre kept her face turned away from him while she wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Something happened, and I wanted to tell someone.” She lifted her eyes to his then. “I wanted to tell you.”

  Wyatt’s chest vibrated with every breath, but he didn’t know what to say.

  “Wyatt, can we try again?” She folded her arms and looked at him with a level of vulnerability that made him want to erase every bad thing from her life. “I made a mistake,” she said. “About us. You are the one of the best things in my life, and I don’t know why I didn’t….” She shook her head. “I need all the good things I can get.”

  He studied her for a moment, already knowing he’d take her back over and over again. “I know you internalize things differently than I do,” he said. “But I’m willing to be by your side through whatever happens.”

  “You are?”

  “Of course.” He approached her and took her hands in his. “Deirdre, I’m falling in love with you, and I hope that doesn’t scare you. We can go slow. I’m not in any hurry.”

  Deirdre closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I’m falling in love with you too.”

  Wyatt shut his eyes too and tipped his head back. Being loved was the best feeling in the world, and he couldn’t believe he got to experience it twice.

  “I called Dalton.”

  Wyatt snapped his eyes open. “Your ex-husband?”

  Deirdre smiled as she stepped back. “Yes, and he’s going to the courthouse tomorrow to find out how to cancel the protective order. That was why I called you. I wanted you to know.”

  “Wow.” Wyatt didn’t know what else to say. He honestly didn’t care why she’d called, only that she had. It didn’t matter that he’d just ordered dinner from FoodNow—his chest squeezed. “I have food coming to my house.”

  Deirdre started laughing, and Wyatt pulled out his phone. “Give me a second. I’ll see if they can deliver it here. Then you’re going to tell me the whole story.” He tapped and found that the driver hadn’t left the Hawaiian barbecue joint he’d ordered from.

  He looked up as Deirdre quieted. “Thank you for coming,” she said, everything laid out between them.

  Wyatt abandoned the app and tossed his phone onto the couch. He took Deirdre’s face in both of his hands and looked right into her eyes. “I’ll always be here.” He kissed her, and she kissed him back.

  The past two weeks of misery melted off of his shoulders, and he couldn’t believe this good woman had chosen him.

  An hour later, Wyatt and Deirdre had finished all of the pulled pork and macaroni salad, and she’d told him everything about Dalton and Emma.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked. They currently sat on her couch, and Wyatt had her tucked against his side while he leaned back. He was full and warm and absolutely content to stay with Deirdre until she kicked him out.

  “He’s going to call in the morning,” she said. “And if they really do file the paperwork to cancel the order, I’m going to wait until the judge says for sure that it’s over.”

  “Of course,” he said. “But then what?”

  “I don’t know,” Deirdre said. “Honestly, I don’t. She hasn’t changed, and while I want to be able to text her and go to any store I want without fear of running into her and getting arrested, I’m not sure I need to open myself up to get hurt again.”

  Wyatt considered her. “I understand that,” he said. “And it’s smart. Maybe it’ll just be a slow healing process.” He gave her a small smile. “I’ve been through that.”

  She snuggled deeper into his side, and satisfaction and love moved through Wyatt. “I’m sorry I freaked out about your family.”

  “I’ve already forgotten about it,” he said. “But you made an impression on Amelia and Scott. When I told them you’d broken up with me, Amelia was very worried
.”

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  Wyatt pressed his lips to her forehead. “She seems to think you make me happy. That you’re perfect. Oh, and Pru—my next-door neighbor—said you’d come back because she read it in her tea leaves one morning.” He chuckled, glad when she joined in with him.

  She tipped her head back, and Wyatt claimed her lips. “And to be clear,” he whispered, barely putting any space between them. “You do make me happy. And I think you’re perfect for me too.”

  She didn’t have to speak to give him the best response in the world. She simply kissed him again.

  “That tree skirt goes on the tallest tree,” Deirdre said the next day. “Wyatt, can you move that last desk for me, please?”

  He did what she said, because the stress level inside the police station was at an all-time high, and all they were doing is decorating for the holiday party.

  But Deirdre had descended on the station with boxes and bins and her friend Meg, and Norma had not been ready. So Wyatt had jumped up from his desk and started moving things where Deirdre wanted them. As the minutes passed, the tables got set up and covered. The trees decorated. The gifts placed just-so on the tree skirts.

  Meg lit candles that smelled like pine trees and snow, and while Wyatt had never seen snow or a pine tree, it felt exactly like a white Christmas. Not that he’d ever had one of those either.

  Deirdre had though, and she beamed around at the normally industrial space and said, “Now this feels homey.”

  She’d pushed all the desks to the sides of the room to create more space. The trees and food tables sat against the back wall, and long tables took up the newly opened space. They held the candles, as well as silverware in red and silver and green napkins.

  Deirdre moved over to Norma’s computer and started fiddling around with the music. Several minutes later, Meg called, “Food’s here,” and several people started carrying in the crispy chicken sandwiches Wyatt had loved.