Finding Peace: Baytown Boys

by Maryann Jordan

  “Okay, okay,” Brogan said, pulling Ginny back into his embrace, peering deeply into her eyes as he took the pulse of her emotions. Wiping a stray tear, he said, “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’m kinda proud of myself,” she whispered in return.

  The family pushed back from the table and the men did the cleanup while the women headed into the den. Ginny flopped back on the sofa, suddenly exhausted. Katelyn sat next to her, leaning her head onto her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re with Brogan. He needed you.”

  “I needed him,” she whispered, her heart so full, she was almost afraid the spell would break.

  Corrine sat on the coffee table in front of her, taking her hand in hers and, with tears in her eyes, said, “Oh, my darling girl, what you’ve been though. And to come out so much stronger. We women do that you know. We carry our families, bear our children, and often carry the weight of the world on our shoulders…and we are stronger together. And you…oh, Ginny, I could not have chosen a better woman to be with my Brogan.”

  In that moment, Ginny realized she had held back from people for so many years—afraid to make friends, afraid to let others in. And now, to be enveloped into this loving family, she blinked back the tears. Just as her heart was full to bursting, Brogan came over and said, “Babe, let’s go home.”

  She stood, accepting hugs from everyone. When she came to Pops, his eyes misted over as he said, “All kinds of people in this world, darlin’. Some good from the start but they let life tear ‘em up and they get nasty. Sounds like that’s happened to your parents. Coulda happened to you, but it didn’t. ‘Cause there’s others in life…they take what comes…make the world a better place. That’s you, darlin’. And I’m glad to have you part of us.” He wiped his eyes and then added, “Humph. I’m sure you got some Irish in you.”

  With a laugh and final hugs, she snuggled close to Brogan as he tucked her into his side. “Come on, honey. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

  Looking up, she asked, “Take me home?”

  “Oh, yeah, babe. No place I’d rather be than home with you.”

  27

  Ginny sat in the workroom, staring at the board, along with the files open on the table in front of her. They had gotten lucky with the DNA from on the back of Carly’s pants, but it did not match anyone in the system, so that ruled out Torrin Shadwell. At least for that offense—who knew if they were looking at more than one assailant. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t too likely in any case.

  Al Barton was still a possibility, but Ginny did not see the older man as physically accosting the women, wondering about his strength, or lack of it. But, if she had learned anything as a cop, ruling out someone based on an assumption was stupid.

  Martin Tobaski. She looked at the name and wished she could nail him for being a jack-ass, if nothing else. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed, recognizing her professionalism was taking a back seat to her fatigue. Long days of work paired with nights of passion with Brogan were making a happy, but tired, policewoman.

  Sam walked in, his face slightly red from being outside. “Hey, Ginny,” he greeted. Unscrewing the cap to an ice-cold water bottle, he took a long swig as he leaned against the counter. “How’s it going?”

  “Brain is fried,” she admitted. “You know what’s so frustrating? These names up on the board. They’re just a few names we’ve come across, but honest to God, it could be anybody! Someone we haven’t looked at. Someone who lives here, works here, shops here, vacations here…the possibilities are endless—”

  “Hey, hey, calm down, Ginny,” Sam said, walking over and sitting next to her. “You’re right, but you gottta take this one step at a time and not get so worked up. You’ll end up with an ulcer, like me…high blood pressure, like me…hell, overweight, like me.”

  She stared at him for a moment, really looking at him for the first time in a long time. Not as a fellow officer, but as a man. A man whose wife was worried about him. Placing her hand on his arm, she said, “Sam, how are you doing? Really doing? Not the bullshit you give us here.”

  “Damn, cut to the chase, why don’t you, Ginny?” he chuckled, then sobered after a moment. Sighing heavily, he said, “This stays between us?” At her promise, he confessed, “Been a cop for most of the past twenty years, after doing a ten-year stint in the military. Love this job. Love this town. Loved working for Mitch’s grandfather when he was chief and then for Mitch’s father when he ran this place. I’m now on my third Evans as a chief and still love it.” Leaning back, he ran his hand over his face, taking another long swig of water. “But, it’s taking its toll. Physically. Wife’s been after me to work on my diet and exercise. And, she’s brought up retirement.”

  The idea of the Baytown Police Department without Sam struck her, realizing that, in some ways, Sam was a bit of a father-figure to her. Sucking in her lips, she stayed quiet, understanding this was about him…what he needed.

  “Anyway, I’ve said nothing to anybody…not even to my wife, knowing she’d start planning our retirement trips.” Smiling, he said, “I married a good woman. Married my high school sweetheart and never regretted a moment. She’s taken care of me for many years.”

  Understanding slammed into her and she squeezed his arm. “You want to make sure you’re around to take care of her, don’t you?”

  He smiled at her comment, nodding. “Yeah, I do. I want to make sure I’m around to do all the things we’ve always promised each other we’d do.”

  The two sat quietly for a moment before she said, “When will you make your decision?”

  “Not sure, so that’s why I don’t want you to tell anyone.”

  “Absolutely,” she promised again.

  “But, I feel the winds of change blowing, Ginny. It may be sooner than later.”

  “I’ll support you whenever you make the decision and be proud to have served with you.”

  His smile lit his worn face as he stood and tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin. With a last glance at the board, he said, “I’m back out on patrol. Your shift was over a while back.

  Don’t make yourself crazy over this, Ginny.” And with that, he was gone.

  She turned back to the board and continued to stare for a few more minutes, wishing something would jump out at her.

  Brogan stood at the podium, his heart in his throat, as he faced his fellow American Legion members. His sweaty palms gripped the edge of the wood, the microphone appearing to rise snakelike in front of him. Dropping his gaze to the front row, where the other officers sat, his eyes found Ginny, smiling at him, encouragement and love shining in her eyes. Swallowing deeply, he took a breath and began.

  “Never figured I’d be up here, but always appreciated y’all brave enough to tell a little about your experiences. ‘Specially those that weren’t so good. We like to wave the flag and we nod and smile when people say they’re thankful for our service. But sometimes, I kinda want them to leave me alone, ‘cause there were things that I’m not so proud about.

  “Most of it was good…I did my job, did what I was told to do, and came home to my family. Pretty successful, I guess. But there was some fucked-up—uh sorry…uh…oh, hell, there was some fucked-up shit that happened and I witnessed something in a village that not only stayed in my head, but stayed in my nightmares.”

  He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes again and staring out into the faces of the gathering. Instead of reproach, he saw slight nods. A few men wiping their eyes, their own memories slipping back. His gaze moved to his father and Pops, as well as the other Baytown Boys’ fathers, and he wondered what their generation in the war had seen and done.

  “Anyway, I know Ms. Spencer has talked about the importance of talking about things that happened and I always figured that was kinda worthless. Talking about something isn’t going to make it go away. But, I got to where what was stuck in my head was messing with me to the point that I wasn’t enjoying life anymore. Didn’t feel worthy.” Shaking his h
ead slightly, he concluded, “But I finally listened, talked to someone…well, actually it’s ongoing counseling, and I have to admit that I’m finally learning that what I saw was not on me. I didn’t cause it and couldn’t stop it. So, I’ve still got memories, but I don’t beat myself up over them anymore. They come, I deal.” Shrugging, he glanced back down at Ginny and said, “Uh…I guess that’s it.”

  Walking back down the short steps to his seat, he was stunned as Pops stood and started clapping, quickly joined by the others. Blushing as he reached his seat next to Ginny, he complained good naturedly, “Leave it to Pops. Fuckin’ crazy.”

  The evening sun hung low in the sky, the glistening water of the Bay the perfect backdrop for one of Mitch’s beach parties. Ginny had participated before, but always as a single and, she had to admit, being part of a couple was a lot of fun.

  She and Brogan, along with Katelyn and Aiden formed one team for beach volleyball with Jillian, Grant, Zac, and Callan on the other. Katelyn was a killer athlete and drilled the ball over the net as many time as Aiden did. Not a bad athlete herself, Ginny still found her shorter height to be a barrier with the much taller players. Finally, after missing the ball a couple of times as it sailed over her head, she yelped as hands on her waist hoisted her up into the air allowing her to slam the ball back over the net, surprising their opponents who let the ball drop at their feet.

  Laughing as Brogan slowly let her down, she turned in his arms, his hands still skimming her waist. Looking up, she was mesmerized by the way his eyes reflected the sun over the water. Twinkling blue stared back at her. Her hands clung to his biceps as his fingers flexed against the soft skin at her side. In the distance, she heard Mitch call out that the food was ready, but her mind was purely on the man in front of her.

  A slow smile formed on Brogan’s lips as he bent to kiss her. A soft touch of lips, then deeper as she leaned into his body. He pulled away, wanting to take the kiss so much farther, but he knew there would be time later tonight for that.

  Whispering against her cheek, he said, “We better get in line before it’s all gone, babe.”

  With a grin, she nodded and the two of them walked up onto the deck of Mitch and Tori’s cabin.

  Settling down a few minutes later with plates on their laps, Ginny leaned back against a log near the bonfire. Brogan told her that when they came back from the military, Mitch and the rest of the Baytown boys had hauled the large logs from a neighbor’s farm and cut them to place in a circle around the fire pit. It allowed visitors to either sit on the logs or sit in the sand and have something to lean back against, which was what they were doing now.

  The area was big enough to hold most of their group sitting on the sand with a few others in beach chairs to the side. Callan and some of his Coast Guard buddies were on one side, entertaining Jade and Belle. Jason and Gareth were in a discussion about the businesses in town. Jillian and Tori were bringing out trays with graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows for the group to make s’mores.

  Ginny sat next to Brogan, their legs, hips, and shoulders touching. Occasionally she glanced up and noticed the shared smiles of the others as their gazes landed on her, and instead of filling her with anxiety, she felt a warm peace slide through her.

  “What’s got you grinning at your hamburger?” Brogan asked softly, his eyes focused on her.

  She twisted her head around and for a moment was lost in his eyes once more, before leaning in to say, “Nothing much. Just happy, I guess.” She glanced at his empty paper plate and, before she could offer to get him more food, he tossed it into the fire and curled his arm around her.

  “Babe.”

  With that one word, she knew he wanted her to share. She glanced back up, twisting slightly so she could see him better. Leaning forward, not wanting anyone else to hear her confession, she said, “I’ve never had this before.” Seeing his brows lower in question, she added, “This kind of relationship. You…but not just you. All of this.”

  “All of this?” he asked, concern filling his face as she struggled to find the right word.

  “My family was never like this. Other than when I was first in the Army and thought I had good people to work with, I’ve never had this kind of camaraderie. And when that all went to shit, I felt like I had no friends. No one I could trust. It stole my peace. And I was just sitting here thinking, I have my peace.”

  “Baby, special is all that you are,” Brogan said, softly. “Before you, this was just me with a bunch of friends, but I was angry…tied up in knots…pissed at myself and the world.” His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest before he added, “But you’ve given me a new life…a chance at finding my own peace as well.”

  Her lips curved up as she settled into his embrace, her plate still on her lap.

  “Better eat up, honey,” he encouraged. “A strong wind could blow you over.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got you as my anchor.”

  The cool blue of his eyes flared hot as he whispered in her ear, “Always, babe. Always.”

  The clanging of a utensil on glass brought their attention to Mitch, who was standing with Tori at his side, both smiling as they gained all eyes on them. Pulling Tori in close, Mitch grinned at the crowd of friends and said, “Got an announcement to make, and figured this was as good a time as any to make it.”

  The large group quieted, and Ginny noted the air of expectation hovering over the area. Sucking in her breath, she wondered if the news was what they all hoped for.

  “Tori and I are expecting a baby,” Mitch announced, the words barely leaving his mouth before the whooping and shouting began.

  Cries of congratulations rang out as toast after toast was made. Ginny watched as Tori grinned, her hand resting on her still flat stomach. Jillian and Katelyn rushed to hug her as the men circled Mitch with hugs as well.

  Hanging behind, to allow the closest friends in first, Ginny watched as Brogan approached Mitch and her breath caught in her throat as she saw him blink back tears. Her man…her large, muscular, tatted, ex-Marine, bar owner man had tears in his eyes. She swallowed several times, breathing through her nose to battle back the sting of tears herself, before moving in to offer her own congratulations to her friends.

  28

  She is beautiful in the morning. Brogan walked out of his bathroom, staring at Ginny as she lay in his bed, the sheet barely covering her breasts, her sleepy smile greeting him.

  “Hate that I have to go in early,” he said. “This would’ve been the perfect morning to make love again, the sun coming up.”

  She stretched her arms toward the ceiling, the sheet slipping to her waist. “Well,” she tempted seductively, “are you sure you have to be at the pub so early?”

  “We’ve got a delivery and it’s on the schedule for seven this morning,” he said, then shook his head, “but this does suck. You’ve got a late evening shift, don’t you?”

  Ginny rolled to her side, propping her head on her hand as she stared at him, standing in the doorway, his jeans tight in all the right places, worn at the knees and crotch, his tight, Finn’s T-shirt molded to his muscular chest, and the tats down his arms—which she still needed to find time to ask him about. “Ugh, yes,” she confirmed, “and you’re right, it does suck when you’re standing there looking all lickable and I just want to lay in bed with you.”

  He planted a knee in the bed, leaning down to capture her lips. “Lickable?” he muttered, as his mouth plundered hers.

  For a few minutes, they forgot about work schedules, deliveries, and cases as their lips and tongues danced together. Pulling back regretfully, Brogan heard her little groan and grinned as he kissed her once more before standing.

  “Be safe today, honey,” he said, a strange sense of worry filling him.

  “Always,” she replied easily, throwing back the sheet, smiling as she watched his eyes drop from her face to her toes and back up her nude body.

  “Damn, woman,” he said, grabbin
g her by the shoulders and hauling her against his body, her front plastered to his as his lips latched on once more.

  Laughing, she grabbed one of his t-shirts, jerking it over her head, and gave him a little push. “Off to work,” she said, “or I’ll never let you leave this room.”

  “You comin’ here when your shift’s over?”

  Nodding, she said, “Yeah, I’m off tomorrow and, since you managed to get Aiden to open tomorrow, we’ll have a nice morning at the beach.”

  A minute later, in his truck, Brogan looked back toward his bungalow, seeing her wave as she stood at the door, MB circling her legs, and his heart pounded heavy with an unknown dread.

  Both of them missed observing the man, lying past the dune, his binoculars now hanging about his neck as he slid down to the beach, completely out of sight.

  With a final pat of MB, Ginny left Brogan’s house about an hour after he did, deciding to run by her house to water her plants. Opening her front door, she stepped inside, smiling as she always did when looking at her little house. Throwing open the blinds, she let the sunshine pour in as she looked over at her plants on the table near one of her windows. Walking into her kitchen, she started the coffee and then filled a pitcher with water and walked to the living room to take care of them. Leaning her hip against the table, she thought about her little house. Sweet. Nice. Comfortable. Small. Sighing, her mind wandered to Brogan’s bungalow. Definitely not as nice. And even smaller.

  Wonder if cats eat houseplants? As soon as that thought ran through her mind she startled. Giving her head a little shake, she headed back to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee.

  Her backyard neighbor was in his yard trimming a tree as she took her coffee out on her little patio and waved to him before sitting down and putting her feet up on the other chair. Sucking in a deep breath, she knew where the thought had come from. So far, she and Brogan had bounced between her house and his. Hers was larger, more of a home, and in town so it was closer to their work. His was small, somewhat run-down, but was right on the water. She had a nice master bedroom and bath, but her bed was much smaller than his and if she bought a bigger bed, it would significantly cut down on the space of the room. She loved the loft space in her house, but admittedly, seeing Brogan in it caused her to giggle—he nearly whacked his head on the sloped ceiling.