Always the Hero

by Anna J. Stewart

“We served together. Iraq,” Matt clarified in case Brodie wasn’t aware of his service. “She’s had a rough go of things for a while.” Until he’d heard her voice, part of him had wondered if she was dead. “She said her car’s a loss?”

  “Totaled, unfortunately. A couple of kids out for a joyride plowed through a red light and jackknifed her. It’s a miracle she wasn’t hurt. Kids’ parents are going to take care of things, but she couldn’t give me a number for a mobile.”

  “She hates those things,” Matt said. Again, not his story to tell. “You can call me. Can I see her?”

  “Yeah, of course. I had one of my deputies clean out her car. Wasn’t much in it other than a duffel and some odds and ends. From the paperwork inside she hasn’t had it very long.”

  “She’s moved around a lot.” Matt walked beside Brodie toward the holding cells. As homey and small as Butterfly Harbor’s station was, nestled in the comforting roots of ancient redwoods and cypress trees, the Durante station was as sharp as glass. Angles, stained linoleum polished to a blinding glare, and walls that echoed.

  “She must be a good friend if you came right out.”

  “One of the best I’ve ever had.” He caught a glimpse of the sign to the cells and stopped. “She’s not in a great frame of mind as you probably saw, so if you’re thinking—”

  “Not thinking anything of the kind.” Brodie surprised Matt by not looking offended. “Just confirming she’ll have someone looking after her. She looks...lost.”

  “Lost is as apt a word as any,” Matt agreed. “Anything she needs to take care of before I get her out of here?”

  “She’s good to go. But before you leave, I heard about the project you’re heading up over in the Harbor.”

  “You did?” Matt asked.

  “Met Gil for drinks last night. He was boasting about what a great job everyone did, especially you and your partner, Lori.”

  “He did?” Was he hearing things? “I have to admit I was surprised to see him turn up to help. This wasn’t a project he was eager to get behind.”

  “Man’s got a lot on his plate,” Brodie said. “Sometimes he loses perspective.”

  “Then he needs to find it again. After those break-ins, those homes became a liability. They attract problems. Monarch Lane was in a similar situation not so long ago, but once Luke started pushing to have windows replaced, facades repainted, there was a significant drop in vagrancies and vandalism.” It also helped that people had started caring again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if his reaction had more to do with who’s pointing out the problems than his being asked to help fund the solutions.”

  “Gil doesn’t tend to see things from a law enforcement perspective,” Brodie agreed. “You know he thinks most of what has gone wrong with the Harbor is his family’s fault. His father’s fault. He takes everything that happens there, especially things that go wrong, personally.”

  Matt gave that some thought. Something he hadn’t considered and it also explained a lot about Gil’s behavior. “Savior complex then?”

  “I don’t think that’s it.” Brodie shook his head. “It’s the show he puts on, but honestly? I’m with you. He needs to find a more tactful way to do things.” Brodie shrugged. “Not that it’s any of my business. Personally, you’re on the right track. You start bringing people back, you start selling those homes—it can only be good for surrounding areas, too. You need any extra hands, you put out the call. We’ve got your back.”

  “Neighbors helping neighbors, huh?” Now that was something he hadn’t considered until now. “Consider the call made. We plan to start up at eight sharp next Saturday.” He shook his hand again and, after Brodie strode back down the hall, Matt took a deep breath. He pushed open the door. “Hack?”

  “Yeah.” He heard the distinctive sniff of tears and steeled himself to ignore them. “I’m here.”

  The last thing Kendall “Hacksaw” Davidson would ever want from him—from anyone—was sympathy. But that’s exactly what struck him when he walked down to her cell. There she sat, on the metal cot, a wadded-up blanket by her side. Her white tee was spattered with blood. A trio of butterfly bandages almost covered an ugly gash across her left cheek. Her long black hair hung limply around her shoulders, but it was her eyes—and the lack of life in them—that hit him straight in the gut.

  “Thanks for coming.” Her voice was so soft, almost imperceptible. Had he not been looking at her, had he not seen shadows of the woman he’d served with behind the haunted, ghostly expression, he never would have believed this was the woman who had served beside him with more courage and spirit than most of the men.

  “We made a promise.” He stopped just outside the cell, forced himself to keep as casual a stance as possible. Hack had been as skittish as a colt for a while now. He’d learned not to push, not to come in too hard. “You call, I’m there. No questions. And vice versa, remember?”

  “As if you’d ever deign to call me.” A slight smile curved her thin lips. She leaned against the brick wall, rested her booted foot on the edge of the bed. All she needed to complete the picture was a tarnished harmonica and a tin tray of food. “You don’t need me, Matt. You don’t need anyone.”

  If she only knew how wrong she was. “I always need my friends.”

  It should hurt to look at her, to be reminded that they had been part of an amazing group of dedicated soldiers who could fight and celebrate in equal measure. Men and women who had put everything—their lives, their very souls—into serving their country. Seeing her now, it was all he could do to keep the ghostly screams of their friends at bay. “You ready to go?”

  “You can just drop me at the bus station.” She shoved to her feet, picked up the duffel the sheriff had found in her car and slung it over her shoulder.

  “No can do,” Matt said. “Besides, sheriff could have done that. You’re coming home with me.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” she said with something akin to fear in her eyes. “Matt, honestly, I just wanted to see you again, for a few minutes. To know you’re okay. That you’re doing well. You look...” She sagged against the bars. “You look really good. You look happy.”

  “I am happy.” He shrugged. “Got myself a great job, good friends. I found a house that’s too big for me. And I met this amazing woman...” His stomach dropped to his toes. “Oh no.” He looked at his watch. It was after two. “Oh man, I did not do this. I did not forget her.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to get back. I need to call...” He swore as he patted his pocket. “My phone’s in the car. Let’s go.”

  “What’s her name?” Kendall called as she hurried after him.

  “Lori.” Even as he said her name he couldn’t breathe. How could he have forgotten? “Lori Bradley. I work with her brother.”

  “Sounds cozy. Just how many cops are in this town of yours?”

  “Enough to keep even you out of trouble.” Matt fell into the familiar banter as easily as slipping into a pool. They could beat around the bush with small talk for endless hours, and for now, he was grateful for it.

  “Matt, I meant it when I said just leave me at the station—”

  “I’m not leaving you anywhere,” Matt said in a tone that had Kendall snapping her mouth shut like a cuttlefish. He tried not to run back to the truck even though it was all he wanted to do. “Your first instinct was to call me and I swore, if and when I heard from you again, I’d be there. Get over it. You’re coming to Butterfly Harbor with me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “AUNT LORI, is this really for me?”

  If Lori needed a remedy for her wounded pride, all she had to do was look into Charlie’s bright green eyes to be healed.

  “It is.” Lori handed the oversize pot to the little girl even as her cell buzzed for the fifth time in the last half hour. Irritated, and feeling more than a littl
e petulant, she ignored it. “You told me you wanted to start learning about plants, so consider this your starter kit.” From the back of the wagon, she retrieved the blue-and-green tool caddy, loaded up with all the items a beginning gardener would need. Charlie wobbled her way to the barren area in the back of the yard and set it in the dirt.

  “Thank you, thank you!” Charlie squealed as Lori handed her the new tools. She plucked them out, one at a time, and set them on the ground around her to examine.

  Lori glanced around, caught Paige’s curious expression as her sister-in-law approached.

  “I thought you were coming with Matt.”

  “So did I.” She looked away before Paige could read her expression. “Change of plans.”

  “This is amazing! Mom, look what Aunt Lori gave me!” Charlie called. “It has colored rocks like the books say you need to attract butterflies!”

  “That’s really lovely of you, Lori.” Paige slipped her arm around Lori’s waist and hugged her. “You’re so good to my little girl.”

  “Your little girl deserves it.” Seeing Charlie’s excitement was all the thanks she needed. Truth was, most kids made her nervous. They always had, even when she’d been one. They were unpredictable, and at times, unkind. She never knew what was going to come out of their mouths and she always felt as if she was bracing herself for a fight. But spending as much time as she had with Charlie and Simon recently, she was beginning to develop an affinity for children. Well, some children at least.

  Being around whispering kids and judgmental teens had helped Lori develop both a thick skin and a quick tongue. Matt had thought her sense of humor bordered on insulting, but for Lori, it was an all too important defense mechanism. One she would be more than happy to surrender.

  “Was I supposed to bring something for dinner?” Lori asked as she saw Holly and Luke stride through the back gate with an oversize picnic basket in Luke’s hand. What else was there to bring? The tables were piled with salads, side dishes, slow cookers and every kind of hot dog ever made.

  “Absolutely not,” Paige assured her. “You brought yourself and that’s all that was required. Besides, I’m kind of hoping to pick your brain over the next few weeks about how to pretty this place up.” She reached up and tightened her ponytail. “You did superb things with the front yard, but I’m afraid I’m at a loss of what to do with all this.”

  Lori had the exact opposite problem. She looked around the expansive property and could imagine explosions of color interspersed with paving stones, dusty moss eking around the edges as clusters of violets, thistles and lavender entwined to fill the bare space.

  “I can come up with some ideas for you. Who are you going to hire to do the planting?”

  “You.”

  “What? Me? But...I’m not a landscaper. And you want a professional.”

  “I want you to do it. We can talk about pricing later, and I’ll be keeping an eye on what you do with those homes on Hollyhock Hill. I just know I want it to be butterfly friendly so that one will stay occupied.” She pointed to Charlie, who had plucked the tiny fairy out of her spot and was hiding her in the sprigs of rosemary.

  “Hi, Paige. Hey, Lori!” Simon raced past them as he pushed his thick glasses higher up his nose. “Mom and Dad brought lots of stuff. Blackberry pie, too.”

  “Oh, yum.” Paige let out a moan that Lori completely understood. “We’re going to have a full house, so I’m off to find a couple more tables. Fletch left some in the garage back there. Keep an eye on them for me?” She pointed to the terrible two kneeling in the dirt.

  “Happy to.” And Lori was surprised to find she meant it.

  * * *

  “YOU’RE DOING THIS to punish me, aren’t you?” Kendall sagged in the passenger seat of Matt’s truck and pouted harder than eight-year-old Charlie after losing at poker.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Matt unhooked his belt and shoved open his door. “I’m bringing you to my friends’ housewarming to punish you.”

  Kendall looked out at the Tudor cottage with the stained glass monarch butterfly window over the front door. “I’ll just wait here.”

  “And the second I disappear you’ll hotwire this thing and take off to who knows where.” He leaned back in, gripped the steering wheel and glared at her. “You have a head injury, you’re exhausted and I’d bet half my year’s salary you haven’t eaten anything other than convenience store food in weeks. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I’m sure you can stand on your own two feet for more than thirty seconds at a time.”

  “You’ve gotten bossy,” Kendall grumbled, but she pushed open her door and dropped to the ground. She picked up her bag and dug around inside and pulled out a black T-shirt. “You weren’t this bossy in the desert.”

  “No, but you were. You’re going to change out here in the open?”

  Kendall blinked, as if his words didn’t make sense. “Would you prefer I join the party in a shirt covered in blood? I don’t think that’s the atmosphere they’re going for.”

  “Fine.” He closed his door and took his time circling around the back of his truck. What he wouldn’t give for that shower and a change of clothes, but the only thing he was thinking about right now was finding Lori. “There’s going to be alcohol.”

  Kendall shrugged as she tugged her shirt over the sagging waistband of her pants. She’d always been thin, but since he’d seen her last, she’d turned skeletal. “Figured. It’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me so much. I’m just along for the ride. Give me a chair and some potato salad and all is good with the world.”

  “You could do with a vat of the stuff.” As if anything could ever make Kendall’s world good again. Matt could hear the muted music and celebrators in full revelry well before they reached the back gate. “I know how hard this is for you,” Matt said when he gripped the gate latch. “Being around people.”

  “Good. Then you know you’ll owe me down the line. Let’s go, Superstar. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

  Never before had Matt been quite so grateful for a large crowd. It wasn’t yesterday on Hollyhock Hill packed, but just about everyone he was on a first name basis with was in attendance, including the former sheriff; Mrs. Hastings, Fletcher and Paige’s across-the-street neighbor; along with Willa O’Neill and her mother and siblings.

  “It’s like walking into a Stepford community,” Kendall muttered under her breath. “I’ve only seen scenes like this on those cheesy TV movies.”

  Matt grinned. He could see where she’d say that. With the lush lawn and a NASA inspired grill currently entertaining most of the men in attendance, this was indeed the very personification of suburban perfection.

  “Matt. About time you got here!” Fletcher broke ranks and pushed through his friends. His welcoming expression shifted to one of suspicion when he caught sight of Kendall. “You, ah, brought a friend, I see.”

  “Hope you don’t mind,” Matt said even as he scanned the yard for Lori. He swore he could hear her, but he had yet to set eyes on her. “Hacksaw Davidson. Sorry, Kendall.” He cringed. “Old habits. We served together over in Iraq.”

  Fletcher’s hostility faded, but not completely. He offered his hand. “Fletcher Bradley. Welcome.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate the invite.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels after returning the greeting. “Matt here rode to my rescue, which is why he’s late. Car accident.” She jerked her head in a way that accentuated the cut on her face. “Superstar’s always reliable in a crisis. You’re Lori’s brother, right?”

  Fletcher’s eyebrows almost disappeared under the too-long hair. “Yes, I am. You know about Lori?”

  “Only what I’ve spent the last hour or so hearing. I’m looking forward to meeting her, but I think that’ll have to wait until Superstar here apologizes for standing her up.”

  “Standi
ng her...up.” Fletcher’s face went blank as he looked at Matt. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “I wish I could.” At first he thought Fletcher was having a laugh, but there was nothing remotely humorous in Lori’s brother’s expression. “Suffice it to say I screwed up again. Where is she?”

  Fletcher took a long drink of beer, longer than Matt thought necessary, as he almost withered under Fletch’s stare. “She’s over there.” He indicated the back part of the yard. “Charlie and Simon talked her into a game of water cannons. Ozzy’s backup. Feel free to make yourself a target.”

  Matt frowned. He’d never seen Fletcher in quite this mood before. “Fletch—”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” Fletcher snapped. “And be ready to drop to both knees where Lori’s concerned.” He moved in, and for an instant, Matt wondered if he was about to get punched. “Remember what I told you the other night? She’s got wounds that never really healed. Lucky you, you just reopened one of the biggest she has. Fix it. Or walk away. Kendall? Or do you prefer Hack?”

  “Either’s fine.” Kendall shrugged.

  “What can I get you to drink, Kendall?” Fletcher asked.

  Matt purposely didn’t look at her, knowing if he did she’d take it as a lack of faith in her still-fragile sobriety.

  “Don’t suppose you have any lemonade?”

  “It just so happens we do. Paige!” Fletch bellowed as he stepped back for Kendall to join the party. “One lemonade please. And a quick checkup if you don’t mind.”

  “A quick...what?” Kendall spun a full circle, panicked eyes landing on Matt as Fletcher grabbed Kendall’s arm and guided her to one of the picnic tables.

  “Paige is a nurse,” Matt explained as his friend was pushed onto a bench and pinned with a look that would have made any big brother proud. “Relax. She won’t hurt you. Much.”

  Matt circled the party, stopping when needed to say hello or grab something to drink. He tried to ignore his growling stomach as the aroma of smoking meat and roasting onions and peppers permeated the air.