The Sergeant's Unexpected Family
Page 18
Someone called out to the pastor, and he patted Mary on the arm. “At least think it over. Now, duty calls. Something about judging pies. Wouldn’t want to miss Clara’s delicious strawberry rhubarb.”
Brody turned back to Mary. “You’ve been helping in the church office?”
She began walking again. “The new secretary wasn’t familiar with the program they had, and I gave her some basic pointers.”
Several people waved and called out as they made their way to booths that were set up to display local crafts for sale.
Brody nodded to them, but he had no idea who they were. “How do you know all these people?”
“I met some of them at the luncheons and others through Randall Burke.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal.
“What luncheons?” How did she manage this whole existence without him noticing? And how did he feel about that? Glad. Yeah, he was glad she was fitting in, making a life for herself here. But one that apparently didn’t include him. And his determination to stay aloof, not to get involved was now mocking him as he yearned to be a part of the life he imagined her living.
Her brow furrowed, she peered at him. “You’re the one who first told me about the luncheons way back when I mentioned my idea for camp. It’s a soup kitchen, but everyone agrees there’s less stigma with the term community lunch.”
“Of course.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted her to be a part of Loon Lake, with or without him. He saw how much she enjoyed being accepted and being a part of this town, especially considering her past. He rejoiced in her fitting in. And she had. She’d been busy building this whole other life without telling him or including him. Without him. Period, full stop.
“I said we’re going to try our luck.” She had stopped in front of a sign that said Fish Bowl Toss. Hanging stuffed animals lined the sides of the small booth. Glass goldfish bowls were on a table at the back.
She gave him a sheepish grin when he raised an eyebrow. “What? It’s for charity.”
He clamped his mouth over a laugh and raised his hands, palms out, to indicate he wasn’t judging her.
She handed over a few bills and took three squishy balls from the attendant. “Elliott, pick out which prize you want.”
After three shots and three misses, she bent down to Elliott in his stroller. “Sorry, sweetie, I guess I was too confident in my abilities.”
Brody pulled out his wallet. “Let me try. Like you said, it’s for charity.”
The attendant handed him the three balls he’d retrieved, and she took Elliott out of the stroller for a better view.
Brody made all three shots and laughed when Mary stuck her tongue out. Damn, she was beautiful and he was in so deep, he might never crawl out.
The attendant pulled down a large stuffed panda and handed it over. “Your dad’s a good shot.”
“He’s not my son, he’s my nephew,” Brody replied and winced. And again with the foot in the mouth.
But it felt more like a knife to the chest. He wanted to watch Elliott grow up. Wanted to be there not just for those first faltering baby steps but for those tentative steps into adulthood.
What if Mary started a new life away from Loon Lake? He’d be nothing more to Elliott than a picture stuck to the refrigerator and a disembodied voice on the phone.
* * *
Mary did her best to enjoy the rest of the afternoon and evening, but she could see how uncomfortable Brody was with people treating them like a family. Her hopes for convincing Brody that what they shared was more than friendship with benefits were fading. No amount of wishing would take away the fact Elliott was Brody’s nephew, not his son.
As much as she enjoyed sitting with Riley and Meg, witnessing the way they gazed at one another or the simple touches between them made Mary’s heart ache. She wanted that for herself, and if she wasn’t going to find that with Brody, she needed to accept it. And as much as the thought hurt, she might need to look for it elsewhere.
“Something wrong?” she asked as they loaded their things into the truck at the end of the night.
Brody sent her a surprised look. “No. Why?”
“You had a fierce scowl on your face.” She knew he might have been uncomfortable today, but she hadn’t detected anger.
He put the cooler onto the truck bed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay. I guess I shouldn’t have dragged you here.” She glanced around at the other families loading things into their cars. “I guess we don’t belong.”
“You didn’t drag me.” He turned to look at her. “And you and Elliott belong here just as much as anyone. You’re now a part of this community.”
She put the folded blanket on the back seat next to Elliott’s car seat. “I meant we need to be careful what sort of picture we present.”
“We’re friends enjoying a summer picnic and concert.” He raised the tailgate. “I’m glad I came.”
“You are?” Could she have misinterpreted his behavior today?
“Sure.” He slammed the tailgate shut. “You got some new business, right?”
Was that what he’d thought this was about? Was that why he’d come? “Yeah, but—”
“Then it was worth it. Not a wasted outing.”
She licked her dry lips, ignoring the heaviness in her chest. “You’re right.”
“Ready to go?”
“Yes.” No, her heart screamed.
Chapter Twelve
Was she imagining things? Looking for trouble where none existed? Mary bunched up her pillow but couldn’t find a comfortable position.
After the picnic, they’d come home and put Elliott to bed and gone up themselves soon after. She and Brody had made love, but he seemed to be holding back, putting up his defenses. Instead of spooning while they fell asleep, he’d rolled onto his stomach. Had the townspeople seeing them as a family spooked him?
And how much longer could she hold out hope before facing reality? Questions twirled around in her head, making sleep impossible. Sighing heavily, she slipped out of bed. Maybe a glass of water would help.
She checked on Elliott and went to the window to let in some night air, but as soon as she raised the sash she smelled it. Smoke.
Rushing back to the bed, she shook Brody. “Wake up.”
His eyes flickered open. “What?”
“I smell smoke.”
He jackknifed into a sitting position. “In the house?”
“No. Outside. I opened a window in Elliott’s room. I could smell it, but I couldn’t see anything.”
He jumped up and began pulling his pants on. “You and Elliott should go outside just in case.”
“Okay.” She was already on her way to get her son. “Should I call the fire department?”
“Let me check it out first,” he called from the hallway.
The back door slammed as she got Elliott out of his crib and wrapped a blanket around him. Carrying Elliott close to her, she ran from room to room upstairs, sniffing and turning lights on before going downstairs and doing the same thing. She grabbed her cell phone off the counter where it was charging.
She clutched a protesting Elliott to her chest and ran out the back door, her gaze going to the bunkhouse—her new office—and the plumes of smoke coming from the open door.
“Brody?” she yelled, and Elliott began crying. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetie.”
She moved closer but remained a safe distance away, not wanting to expose Elliott to the smoke. She called for Brody again before using her cell phone to contact an emergency dispatcher and explain the situation.
After what felt like an eternity in which she felt helpless, he emerged from the burning building, carrying something in his arms. Coughing, he sank to his knees, dropping her framed photo of Loon Lake and her laptop onto the grass.
> She ran over to him. “What the heck are you doing?”
“Getting your—” He broke off in a fit of coughing.
Had he lost his ever-loving mind? “Stop it. The fire department is on their way.”
“It’ll be too late.”
He started toward the building again, and she grabbed for him with her free hand, but he slipped away.
She wanted to scream and cry, but one glance at a confused Elliott told her she needed to remain calm. But dammit, she’d never felt so helpless in her life. A childhood spent at the mercy of strangers didn’t compare to this.
The scream of sirens captured her attention, and she ran into the front yard. The first to arrive was a sheriff’s department vehicle, and Riley Cooper jumped out and ran to her.
The next hour passed in a blur of fire trucks, police and paramedics. After checking on Brody, Riley came and sat with her and Elliott on the porch steps. He assured her Brody had been given oxygen by the EMTs and shouldn’t require anything more unless his symptoms worsened. Riley helped keep Elliott entertained until he got a call to respond to another situation.
“Want me to get Brody to come and sit before I leave?” Riley asked, but she refused and he left.
She was having flashbacks to the day of the car accident and Elliott must be, too. And she wasn’t sure she could deal with her overwhelming emotions, plus Brody. The paramedics and all but one fire truck had left when Elliott fell asleep. After putting him back to bed, she went through the kitchen and stepped outside.
Brody spotted her and came over. “I’m sorry about your office. I saved what I could.”
She glared at him, grinding her teeth, her pulse racing. She had to take a deep breath before she could speak. “How could you?”
His mouth dropped open. “That’s the thanks I get for saving your things?”
“Who told you to do something so stupid?” She pushed his shoulder with each word. He could’ve been killed. Just the thought stole her breath.
“Stupid?” His eyebrows slammed together.
Her arms flailed around. “To put your life in danger for some stupid stuff.”
“Stupid stuff?” His head jerked back. “But you said how much—”
“I don’t care. It’s just stuff.” And it was true. Nothing was worth risking his life over.
“But you were so proud of having your own office.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” No possessions were more precious than his life.
He threw his hands up. “Obviously not.”
“I’m not happy because I have some stuff.” She ground her molars.
“Will you quit saying stuff like it’s nothing?”
“It is nothing. I’m happier than I’ve ever been because I have a place to belong.”
“Not anymore.” His voice had risen several decibels.
“I’m not talking about a building. I have Loon Lake and all the people in it.” Tears rolled unchecked down her face and dripped onto her shirt. “That’s what matters to me...not physical things. Home to me is going into town and having people waving hello or Meg Cooper calling and asking if I wanted to join her for a girls’ night out with some friends.”
“But I didn’t want you to lose your st—” He clamped his mouth shut over the last word. Someone behind him cleared their throat and he turned around.
“Sir?” One of the firemen stood there looking uncomfortable at overhearing their argument. “We’ve finished mopping up. No more hot spots.”
“Thanks.”
“If you’d like to follow me, I can show you where the fire started. We believe there was a short in the electrical wiring.”
Brody followed the fireman, and blinking back tears, she turned and went into the house.
* * *
Brody found Mary in her bedroom, tossing clothing from an open dresser drawer into a beat-up old suitcase on the bed.
“What in the world are you doing?” he demanded from the doorway, his fingers fisted around the doorjamb.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
What the...? He squeezed his fingers until they were white under the soot still clinging to them. “Define this, please.”
She stopped moving and glared at him. “I’m not going to fall for someone else who sees me as disposable.”
“Disposable? Where did you get an idea like that?” Damn her for lumping him into the same mold as his worthless brother. He was sick and tired of always being the person responsible for having to pick up the pieces. “I was the one saving your stuff. How does that make me see you as disposable?”
“Because you risked your life...risked leaving Elliott and...and me.” She choked out the last word and threw her arms wide. “And for what? A bunch of meaningless, replaceable stuff.”
“But I was doing it for you.” He stepped into the room. “Those things were all you had in the world.”
“You still don’t get it.” She stalked toward him.
He stood his ground. “Maybe you need to explain it.”
“I love you!” she shouted at him, and when he backed away, she followed him and poked him in the chest. “I love you...heart in my throat, can’t imagine my life without you, love you. And you’d rather run into a burning building than stay safe with me. Is that clear enough for you?”
Love? He started to choke, but this time it wasn’t from smoke inhalation. No way. They were enjoying themselves. Scratching an itch. What they shared wasn’t supposed to go that far. Anything else would be a grave mistake.
She lifted the bag off the bed with a grunt. “I’m not going to put myself through that. And I’m not going to put Elliott through that, either.”
She swept past him, and he let her. He stood by like some dumbass while she collected Elliott and stomped down the stairs, baby in one hand, suitcase in the other. He stood motionless at the top of the stairs while she went out the front door and shut it behind her without looking back.
He trudged to the upstairs window and watched as she strapped Elliott into the back seat of her car. Then she threw things into the trunk, climbed into the front seat and slammed the door, the sound reverberating in the still air. He resisted the urge to run down there and tell her he loved her.
He stood in the window long after the car disappeared. He stood leaning against the windowsill until the sun was high in the sky.
You knew this had to end. You’re not that guy.
He debated getting in his truck and going after her. But what would that accomplish? Let her cool down and...
And what? Decide she wasn’t in love with him? Her words had stunned him, ripped through him. So instead of following her, he took a shower and put on clean clothes. But he could still smell the smoke. As if it had seeped into him.
Not bothering with coffee or breakfast, he walked to the barn. Chores would keep his hands busy even if he couldn’t shut off his mind. Where was she? He let the animals out and cleaned their stalls. Would she leave Loon Lake?
A car door slammed. Mary? He dropped his tools and rushed toward the opening of the barn. More doors slammed before he got there.
The sight that awaited him in his driveway was not something he could’ve predicted. Judging by the number and variety of pickups, half of Loon Lake was on his farm. The truck parked closest to the barn looked familiar, as did the attached trailer. Sure enough, Bill Pratt, the farmer who’d dropped his calf off, approached him.
Bill tipped his cap. “We’re here to help.”
“Help?” Brody stood with his jaw slack, trying to take it all in.
Ogle Whatley stepped around Bill. “You tell us what you want done and we’ll do it.”
I want Mary back. What was he thinking? Life was better alone. Uncomplicated. He was fine. Or he would be in a few days.
Ogle clapped Brody on the back and squeezed his sh
oulder. “We’re here to clean up and haul away the ruins and rebuild, if rebuilding is what you want.”
“Why would you all do that?”
“Simple,” Ogle said. “You’re a part of this community, son, and we look after our own. Bill here brought his trailer to haul away the debris.”
True to their word, the men got to work loading up the burned debris. Brody went into the barn and got gloves to help.
Brody wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he looked up to see more cars arriving. He left the men and strolled over to the newcomers.
“We’re here to be sure everyone gets fed,” Tavie called as she got out of a car.
She sniffed as she approached. “Glory, Brody Wilson, you smell like smoke. Don’t tell me you’ve been sneakin’ down to that new mini-mart for cigarettes.”
“Of course I smell like smoke, Tavie.” Brody pointed to the burned rubble that used to be Mary’s office. “Hel-lo.”
“You don’t want that precious little guy to be breathin’ in secondhand smoke,” Tavie went on as if he hadn’t spoken.
The thought of Mary and Elliott felt like a dull knife to the gut, and Brody waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and stalked off to the horse fencing. He knew he should be working with the others, but he needed to take a moment. Mary and Elliott were gone. Each time that thought entered his head, he felt the loss. How could Mary love him? He was a freakin’ hermit who lived with a bunch of unwanted animals. She’d been in town a short time and already knew more people, had more friends than he did.
Ogle strolled over to the fence and rested a foot on the bottom rail. “Tavie. Don’t take it wrong.”
Brody shrugged. Ogle had been within earshot when Tavie had badgered him.
Ogle rolled a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “It’s her way of lovin’ people.”
Brody raised his brow and glanced askance at the old man.
“When I got back from doin’ my time in ’Nam, I was so wrung out I didn’t even tell her when I was a-comin’ home, but she was there when my plane landed with a big smile and a huge flag. I was wearin’ my uniform, and back in those days, people weren’t so grateful for your service like they are nowadays. Tavie, she stared down anyone who tried to say somethin’ negative.”