by Cheryl Wyatt
Midnight lifted his head and looked playfully all of a sudden toward the door. “No, boy, he’s not coming over again today.” Midnight sighed and set his head down.
Chloe knew the feeling.
“Lord, if You think my program will benefit this town that Mom and I have already come to love, help me find a way to make this work.”
Chloe might not go to church, but she knew where her drive, talent and strength came from. She also knew it was given to her for the benefit of helping others. She’d use it to the best of her ability.
Pen reunited with paper, Chloe jotted notes from her Chicago team that would benefit building an identical Refuge team—assuming the city council approved her plan.
“Ugh.” Chloe set the notebook down and rubbed a hand along her face. Once she moved herself to Refuge, she’d need to replace herself on the Chicago team.
“Time for a switcheroo.” Chloe fed Midnight, then opened the Chicago team’s financial books. She needed more funding to get the Refuge clinic off the ground. Time for more grant writing, her least favorite chore.
Chloe pulled the ponytail holder out and pressed fingertips to her temples.
A knock sounded at her door. She grabbed some ibuprofen to fight her growing headache on the way to answer it.
When she opened it, Mandy, Celia and Amber stood grinning like cats with canary feathers springing from their mouths. “Hi!” they said in unison.
“Hi.” Chloe moved aside, glad for the distraction but suspicious of the smirking faces.
Clearly, they were up to something.
“Have a seat. Rescue me from paperwork.”
Rather than enter, Celia burst in and dragged Chloe toward the door. “Nope, chica. You’re coming with us.”
“Wait—what?” Chloe dug her heels into the floor. “I don’t want to leave Midnight alone and—”
Amber snatched the leash and headed toward the dog. “Got him. He’s coming with.”
With Celia still dragging her out the door, Chloe twisted toward Mandy. “Um, where are they taking me?”
Mandy tugged her elbow. “We are friend-napping you.”
They stepped outside in a giggling drove. Two more women waited in a Hummer. “Manny bought it for Celia. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Amber helped Midnight into the back.
“Yes, it’s to die for. Now, where are we going?” Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at the gaggle of women shoving her into Celia’s new ride.
A platinum-blonde woman reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Sarah Petrowski. We’re taking you to breakfast.”
“Then to show you the greatest places to shop in Refuge,” Amelia Dillinger said.
Chloe smiled. “I remember you from the other night.”
“Yes, and by the way, Miss Maple is a Mister.”
Chloe giggled. “Does Chance know yet?”
“Ben figured he’d let Reece inform him of that.”
The women chuckled together. It felt good to be surrounded by new friends. “Thank you all. Seriously, I so needed this friendly invasion.”
“Sure. And later this afternoon, we’re taking you to a PJ cookout.” Amber clicked her seat belt.
Celia wiggled her brows. “Where Chance will be.”
An older woman added, “As will you. Hi, my name’s Mina.”
“You look like the sensible one of the bunch.” Chloe latched her seat belt and felt a sense of adventure rise. “Please tell me you’re not part of the cupid posse that I see has multiplied from three women to five.”
“Six,” Mina said, then snickered behind her hand.
Mandy grinned. “Mina’s the mastermind behind it all.”
Chloe should protest. She really should.
She should demand they turn this car around and take her back instead of help run her heart and dreams into trouble over a man who was the very reason she couldn’t concentrate on work today.
Instead she found herself sitting back, laughing and enjoying the ride.
Chapter Eight
Saturday morning Brock ran with Chance to St. Louis in Manny’s truck to bring more of Ivan’s furniture to Refuge.
“Dude, I’m hungry. Can we stop and eat?” Brock asked on the way back. He plucked sunglasses from the dash as they entered Refuge.
They’d skipped lunch to get more things packed, and Chance’s stomach was protesting too. “We’ll have to hit a drive-through. I left the nurse with Dad but her shift is almost over so we’ll need to drop by there until Ben, Amelia and Reece show up.”
“They’re watching Ivan today? That’s cool.”
“Yeah, they offered. And the nurse came in early so we could leave sooner this morning. Ben and Amelia invited me to the PJ cookout and offered to watch Ivan since I haven’t gone in a while. But I feel guilty about them missing the cookout and for leaving Dad, who feels like a burden.”
For some reason, Brock stayed silent and smiled.
They purchased lunch and arrived at Ivan’s. The home health nurse handed Chance her paperwork. “Not much has changed. His blood pressure is better today but still on the high side of normal.” She eyed the four fast-food bags, which contained salads. “He’s already had lunch and is napping.”
“Thanks for making him lunch and coming in early.”
“Sure. See you Tuesday.” She pocketed her stethoscope.
Chance extended a salad sack. “We brought you one.”
Her cheeks tinged. “How thoughtful. Thanks.” She took the bag, waved and left.
Brock chuckled. “She’s shy, like you.”
They unloaded furniture then came inside to eat.
“Dude, I know you’re a man of few words, but not with me,” Brock said. “You’ve been unusually quiet since nurse-lady left.”
Salad in hand, Chance released a long breath and sat. “High blood pressure can lead to another stroke.”
“If Ivan’s doc is concerned, he’ll increase his meds.” Brock crammed forkfuls of salad in his mouth.
“Then he won’t have energy to do his therapy.” Chance stared at his food. His appetite fled. He fought the despair that dogged him over Dad’s tumbling health.
“Dude, you need to eat. You’re losing too much weight.” Brock jabbed a fork toward Chance’s salad.
“Stress.” Chance forced food down his throat, but the romaine lettuce he normally loved went down like leather.
A vehicle pulled up outside. Probably Ben and Amelia. Chance didn’t look. “I wonder if they brought Reece. She’s good for Dad.”
“She has a birthday coming up.” Brock made no movement to go to the door. Chance didn’t either, figuring it must have been a neighbor arriving instead of Ben and Amelia, because they would have walked right in.
“She’s gonna be seven, I think.” Chance chuckled. “She told Dad to get better soon so she can beat him at chess.”
Brock laughed. “She probably could.”
“Yeah.” Chance forced another bite down then shoved the salad at Brock. “Here. I’m done.”
Brock normally would have scarfed up Chance’s leftovers. But he shoved the salad back. “No way. Eat.”
Chance managed a few more bites. “I miss Mom’s cooking on weekends.” The salad turned sour in his stomach. “Today is, would have been, her and Dad’s anniversary.”
“I know.” Brock poked around Chance’s salad for grilled chicken remnants, then put Ivan’s salad in the refrigerator.
Silence reigned over the room for several moments.
“I’m surprised Chloe didn’t call yet today to check on Ivan.” Brock pulled the blinds open to peer out the window.
“She’s probably catching up from being in Chicago. She had to get some work done, she said.”
“Well?” Brock stepped across the high watermelon-colored-carpet and fisted his keys.
“Well, what?”
“How’re things going? You two looked pretty interested in each other at dinner last night.” Brock looked out the window again, then turned and lowered hims
elf to the sofa. Thunder clouds roiled in and started spitting serious rain. “She’s single. You’re single…”
Chance went to shut the blind Brock left open and paused. What was the white van in his driveway, and where was Manny’s truck parked there a moment ago? “Bro, someone stole Pena’s car.”
Brock snickered. “Nah, he let a friend borrow it. They dropped off the van.”
“So you’re driving the ugly utility van and expecting to pick up chicks?” Chance laughed.
Brock shook his head and ignored the question. “Back to Chloe. I saw Mandy at the DZ after I left your place the other day. She gave me the scoop.”
Chance leaned against the dresser they had yet to move into Ivan’s bedroom. “If you’re so interested, why don’t you get her number?” If Brock called her, Chance might have to break his fingers.
“She wasn’t making eyes at me last night. Besides, I like strawberry blondes.”
Chance laughed, thinking he wouldn’t tell Brock that Chloe’s hair smelled like strawberries. “She wasn’t making eyes.” Crazy he’d even suggest so. Last thing he needed was another distraction from work. Right? “Was she really making eyes at me?”
“Dude, maybe not intentionally, but yeah. There was definite interest brewing that very first day before she caught herself and snapped back into professional mode. You caught her off guard. No doubt.”
So the powerful, unexpected attraction had been mutual from the get-go, according to Brock. “You think?”
“Absolutely. And you two hit it off at the movies. Her pupils totally dilated on you.”
“Nah, it was the light.”
“From her blinding smile? The one that got you so goofed up you lost your manners and made her stand on the steps for like two whole minutes when she got here that first day?”
Chance laughed. “I was trying to decide if I should let that dogzilla of hers in the door. Fine. Okay, I admit she was prettier than I expected. The kind of pretty that turns heads.” The kind of pretty that could pose too big a distraction. “I barely have mental and emotional energy for everything as it is. Not that I mind taking care of Dad.”
“But caregiving would be easier if your dad minded…in every sense of the word.” Brock chuckled.
Chance eyed the window. “Seriously, where’s Manny’s truck?”
“So I hear Miss Maple ended up being a Mister.”
“Stop changing the subject, but yeah, Ben had Reece inform me of that. She wants to be a vet when she grows up.”
“She could. Kid’s sharp as a tack.”
Chance folded one ankle over the other and flipped a blind panel up again. Streaks of light beamed in. “What’s really up with the van? ’Cause I’m not buying your smack story.”
Brock shifted on the couch. “Just tell Ivan I instigated everything.”
Chance unfolded his ankles and twisted to stare at his friend. “What are you up to?”
Brock grinned. “You’ll see when the guys get here.”
“The guys? Is everyone coming over or something?”
Brock shrugged and spun his keys on his pointer finger, then started whistling as he rose from the couch.
Seconds later, teammate Vince Reardon’s custom-built motorcycle rumbled into his yard. Joel’s Expedition pulled in beside it. Chance watched the guys exit. A strange feeling swept through him. Had they not been smiling, he’d think this was a PJ meeting. “Am I getting kicked off the team or what?”
Brock snickered. “I couldn’t be so lucky. C’mon.” They opened the door and stood on the landing wet from rain.
“Dude, can I put my bike in your garage?” Vince peeled off his helmet.
“No problem.” Chance stepped inside and grabbed the garage door opener.
His teammates and team leader filed into the home he would share with his dad for who knew how long.
“Hey, what’s up?” Chance said to Joel, who walked over and lifted Ivan’s medical bag from the floor.
Joel attached the bag to Ivan’s wheelchair. “We’re kidnapping you and your dad. You’ve been too isolated, bud. I’m ordering you to come hang with us at the PJ cookout.”
“Ordering me to the cookout. Can you do that?”
Joel grinned. “Petrowski says I can.”
“And just how do you think you’ll get Dad there?” Chance followed Joel toward Ivan’s room.
Joel shrugged. “It’s not like he can outrun us or fight off five combat soldiers who are toting him to the car.”
“True.” Chance laughed. “This is crazy, you guys.”
“We miss you, man.” Manny clapped a hand on Chance’s shoulder.
A freight train of emotions deposited a lump in his throat. “I don’t know what to say.” He’d missed getting together with them on weekends, but hadn’t been able to since Mom’s illness and death, then Dad’s stroke had upended his life.
His entire team undoubtedly remembered this was Chance’s parents’ anniversary and had taken time to plan this outing for Ivan’s sake. The last thing the old man needed was to sit home moping about everything he’d lost.
Brock knocked on Ivan’s door, then stepped in, followed by Joel. After significant grumbling and what sounded like a minor scuffle, Ivan apparently conceded because when Joel wrestled the chair back out, a scowling Ivan was in it.
A triumphant Joel grinned behind him. Brock too.
Ivan glowered at Chance, who stuck his hands out. “Whoa now, Dad. I had nothing to do with this.”
Ivan grunted and looked away. But Chance didn’t miss the tears gathering in his eyes. Like Chance, he knew these rough-and-tumble men were total softies on the inside. They shared an unbreakable brotherhood and left no man behind.
Not on the field, not in life.
Ivan’s tears meant he was touched by this abduction of mercy. “If you’re forcing me to go, then get my bag!”
“Already got it, sir.” Joel lifted the strap.
Chance didn’t expect his dad to be still about it, but an unexpected smile broke over Ivan’s face. It magnified as Joel and Brock struggled to push the clunky chair over the high carpet. Chance needed to rip it out and put tile or something more suitable in. But he’d hoped Dad wouldn’t need the chair permanently. He refused to rethink it right now.
“What’s this charade all about anyhow?” Ivan bellowed.
Joel leaned in and whispered something to Ivan, then aimed a thumb at Chance.
Ivan grinned and mumbled something to Brock that made him laugh. Everyone faced Chance. Ivan grinned wider.
“What’s so funny, old man?” Chance grinned back at his dad. Good to see him having fun like this again.
“Maybe they’re creating a conspiracy to help those little grandbabies along.” Ivan’s eyes twinkled.
Chance’s smile faded and he paused midstep. “Huh?”
Ivan’s grin exploded. Chance’s team looked stricken with a guilt plague all of a sudden. All of them.
“What’s he mean?” Chance blocked the path of all.
Vince smirked. Joel shrugged, and Ben bit his lip.
Brock’s ears turned red. “Chloe’s sort of coming to the cookout. Ivan says she’d make pretty babies.”
“And Brock thinks she’d make you a good wife.” Ivan hissed out a laugh. Good to hear it, although he hated being the brunt of the joke. “Come on, guys, lighten up on the matchmaking. Give the girl a chance to settle in first.”
“So you’re not opposed to dating her?” Brock asked.
Chance snorted. “You kidding me, man? Bring it!”
Ivan’s eyes still twinkled when Joel loaded him into the rented van. That his team went to this much trouble to get them out of the house on what would have been a dreadful day meant more than he could articulate at the moment.
Chance swallowed and clapped a hand on Brock’s back as he eyed the others. “Thanks, man. Thanks to all of you.”
They nodded.
Brock eyed Chance, not with sympathy but respect. “You’ve
been through a lot. Isolation doesn’t help. Sunshine, laughter and a little socializing will do wonders.”
Speaking of sunshine, Chloe’s face rather than the sun came to mind.
“Shotgun,” Chance called and climbed into Joel’s passenger seat. “How’d you come about inviting her?”
Joel pulled onto the road. “The girls went over there with the welcoming committee. You know Celia and Amber.”
“Yeah. They jump at the chance to accost any newcomer to Refuge and invite them to gatherings.” Which reminded Chance that Dad’s shy new nurse was also new to Refuge. He needed to let the committee know so they could extend their welcome to her.
“And you know Sarah and Amelia.” Joel upped the AC.
“They can’t stand to see anyone left out.”
“Mina masterminded and Mandy was all over it. Val’s out of town with Vince’s sister at a bike show or she’d have been in the thick of it too. Mandy set it up.”
“Ah. Chloe’s mom, Mary, works part-time for her at the doctor’s office next to the hospital.” Chance slanted the vent. Cool air fanned his face. It was hot today. Nice outside.
“I’m pretty sure Mandy invited Mary too. But she took a rain check. Something about having to hang at home because the company she gets greenhouse supplies from was delivering things throughout the day,” Joel said.
Chance eyed his dad when he and Brock passed in the utility van. “Thanks, Joel. Dad looks happier than I’ve seen him in weeks.”
“No sweat. So, tell me about this Chloe girl.”
Chance blushed. “Not much to tell.”
Joel grinned. “Not yet.”
“Not yet, but thanks,” Chloe said to the sweet blond-headed boy named Bradley who held a tray of Mountain Dew Apple Dumplings up to her nose. As tempting as those sweet-smelling treats were, she first wanted the meat and corn grilling on the patio, courtesy of PJ commander Petrowski.
“Sarah, your yard is gorgeous.” Chloe looked around at the beauty of vibrant flowers, edging and shrubs.
Aaron pulled his bride close and kissed her temple. “I owe most of it to her.”
“I had help from my dual little landscapers.” Sarah smiled at five-year-old twins, playing with Reece in the yard. Midnight romped in the thick circle of squealing, leaping fun, as did two dogs named Shasta and Mooch, whom Midnight instantly bonded to.
